Today marks the beginning of another April. This is THE month for me, the one we lost Tony. Last week I was chatting with a friend, and she asked me how I was feeling with the anniversary coming up soon. Also noting that it will be 3 years and how many people told me that would be the hardest year.
Of course, now I’m sitting here overanalyzing what that meant. Did they mean the third year itself as you pass time after the second year and complete three? Or do they mean the 3rd full year as you head into year four?
Isn’t that ridiculous? Why am I stewing over the semantics of what year those that came before me deemed their hardest? My journey is not the same as theirs. My grief journey is my own. I am not beholden to anyone else’s timetable.
Most of the people that told me year 3 was the hardest, described it as the year they really came to terms with their loved one being gone forever. I had that overwhelming sensation 18 months after Tony passed. My stress and anxiety over his death went through the roof. I remember breaking down and grieving for how much of my life I was going to live without him here. That is also when I developed the spot of alopecia. Thankfully my hair grew back in, and I haven’t had another flair up since then.
I did feel some melancholy today as I turned the calendar to April, but I was not consumed by it. Maybe it’s because I turned on the Taylor Swift Eras Tour while I worked. It’s hard to sit in a funk when you watch someone doing what they love.
I know as the days get closer to April 20th I may not feel as graceful as I do right now. The last moments we had together will take hold in my memory. As always, I plan to give myself room to take the month and my feelings as they come. It doesn’t really matter what year I’m experiencing. As I’ve said before, this will never not be hard.
