Monday mornings are typically tough getting back into the grind but when your person’s birthday consumes that first day of a new week’s energy you can barely make it through the day let alone the week. This is the second birthday without him. These milestones seem to be flying by faster and faster but the space Tin filled seems to be just as big as the day he passed. It sometimes feels like I am drowning in the waves of emptiness. There is no other way to describe it.
Once again the sweet sting of social media hits with Facebook reminding the world that Clayton’s birthday is July 15th. Everyone just saw my post to him on our 4th of July anniversary so when the “Send Clayton a Birthday Message” pops up 11 days later on everyone’s feed they feel a little more of what is my daily normal reminders. One after another after another I’m reminded every day.
There isn’t much time between the anniversary of Tin’s death, the anniversary of my father’s death, Tin and my anniversary marked yearly with a huge national reminder accompanied with fireworks and than his birthday. Forget a Monday being exhausting, when everyone is stretching and emerging for spring and the start of summer, I just want to hibernate. April through July is emotionally draining and just like that the summer is half gone and I have little time to build the walls up before the stormy waves of another my birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas without him arrive unforgivingly.
I can see the tide rising already. Summer starts to peak and vacationers begin to complain about having to go back to their lives. Kids dread going back to school and parents start to long for more quiet at home. I know they don’t get it but all I have is quiet at home. I wish they wouldn’t wish for a temporary version of what I am permanently living. I guess that is the dark gift we have all been given – pure appreciation for each and every second. I feel like the universe threw his hourglass at me and I missed catching him. Now I’m left cut deep by glass shards and looking down at all our sandy spilled memories. So many people take for granted that they get another chance to flip their hourglass and watch the sand flow while I can only use those scattered grains to try and rebuild my castle made of sand.
