This is not a new song, it's from Physical Graffiti, an album that came out in the mid 70's. But, as happens from time to time, random songs pop in to my head. This time though, I don't think it's quite so random. I don't know why, but a couple days ago the song appeared in my brain. Probably because I had been thinking about the the time, ten years ago, leading up to this date. I started thinking about the lyrics and, while they're not a perfect fit, they sum up nicely what it's been like. As I wrote a couple weeks ago, this month contains some memorable days both good and bad.
Today is the first of each. Even though yesterday we celebrated the first birthday for the little Diamond (shown here with her "smash" cake) today is her actual birthday.
This one is actually fairly early on in the "smash" process. Shortly after I took the picture I had to walk away for a couple minutes and regain my composure.
Because today is also ten years since Diane died. As I stood in the driveway (smash cakes should be an outside event whenever possible, for obvious reasons) I couldn't help but reflect on how spoiled the grandkids would be had Diane and Caitlin been here. I could clearly imagine Diane beaming, could almost hear her laugh, as she watched this little gem destroy her own personal chocolate cake. I thought of something the Oldest One posted about Caitlin referring to the Heir to the Throne as "her" baby when he was an infant and transferred all those feelings in to yesterday. And to every single event involving each of the grandkids for the last ten years. Today too. So, feeling the emotions get the best of me, I chose to walk away rather than allow my sadness to intrude on a day of joy.
Removing myself like that probably isn't the healthiest way to deal with grief, I recognize that. But, at this point in my life it rarely lasts more than a few moments. Whether that's a function of a normal grief life-cycle now or me willing it away I don't know. But it's been a long time since it brought me, quite literally, to my knees.
Time has a way of marching on at it's own pace. Despite our best efforts to change it. In that respect not much is different since we marked a decade without Caitlin. In my humble opinion, grief marches at it's own pace too. At least it should if we allow it to.
That's a lot easier to do after ten years though. I read something recently by Patton Oswalt about the sudden passing of his own wife. He wrote about how, after doing something for 102 consecutive days, you should become quite good at it. And yet, 102 days after his wife's death, he felt no better about any of it. It was really well done, quite profound and right. on. point. If I can figure out how to link it here, I will. Done. Give it a look. But as I was saying, grief needs to move at it's own pace. I've mentioned here before about how making it through the first year is all well and good, but that the "seconds" will hit you hard if you're not aware of them. I feel like that's one of my missions in life now, to spread that information around to people that may find it useful.
It's taken me a lot longer to get to where I am now than I thought it would. Literally. I started this post this morning at the coffeehouse, but I wanted a picture or two that I only have on my home computer.
And, I took a side trip to the cemetery. It seemed like the thing to do. I took Diane a rose, "talked" to her for a little bit, and headed back home. I used to to do that a lot more often (I promise, no more links today) but the last time I was there was, I think, last fall when the Boy Child and I took the grave blankets there.
I don't really have a feel for how I want to wrap this up so I think I'm going to default to one of the aforementioned photos
Ok, one last thought from the cemetery. When we picked out the headstone I had a verse inscribed on the back. I don't remember where I heard it originally, I've searched the interwebz a few times looking for it (most recently about thirty seconds ago) but can't find it's origin so I can't give props. But, to paraphrase it -
Know the gift you have been given. And realize the gift has not been taken from you, only the wrapper. For once you have been given the gift, it can not be taken away.
Maybe it can help someone else. I know it helped me. So did believing that these two were together again.
Peace
So much love to you. On anniversaries and always. <3
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