Pause

I think I drove my friend, Angie, absolutely to the edge of reason the last couple weeks or so.  I kept arguing with her that it made no sense to me why people celebrate or even observe their loved ones death dates.  To me, that date is full of horror and pain- it was for my girl and it was for me.  July 5th is something to get through, but not something I want to make a big production of, I told her.  She looked at me, honestly perplexed, "Nicole, not everyone thinks that way.  In fact, I think most people see it as a way to honor their loved one's life, and remember the good times."

My name should be Negative Nellie; this I admit freely.

 But look, I honestly wasn't being pessimistic this time.  I just couldn't make any sense of the concept.  Why honor the day someone was taken from you?  Wouldn't you honor their memory on the day they came into the world, like you do live people?  On their birthday?  Doesn't that make more sense?  The only good reason I could think of to even acknowledge someone's death date on their tombstone would be so those passing by could do the math, and figure out how long the person had lived.  Is it not life we are honoring when we remember our loved ones?

Angie gave up after about the twelveth round of this discussion.  She has the patient of a saint, but even she has limits.  Me?  I am nothing, if not stubborn and frequently argumentative.

Like all of life's mysteries to me, I researched it on the internet.  I finally found something that made some shred of sense to me.  The moment your loved one died, your world stopped, along with theirs.  The same was true for extended family and friends.  Things stopped, and a focus was put on how that person's presence affected your life, and how their absence would, as well.

Additionally each year, when people honor a loved one's death date, there is a pause.  I imagine to many it would not be as brutal as that original date, but there is, in fact,  a pause.  It is a time to reflect  again on what that person brought to your life, and may continue to bring, even after their death.

I could get with this.

I may not be ready to set off balloons or hold a candlelight vigil just yet, but at least I can see a good reason to honor this horrible day.  It's out of respect.  Recognition.  Appreciation.

I get it now.  It's what I do everyday that I am without my girl.  There is no need for me to circle it on the calendar.  But it does have the power to stop me in my tracks.  Or put me on bed rest, as it were.