The Last of the Firsts
For the last eleven months, I've waddled through Life Without Dad, hitting one "first" after another. The first Father's Day Without Dad, the first Christmas Eve Without Dad, etc, have all come and gone, including the First Birthday Without--both his and mine. I thought I was all done.
But as April melted into May, I realized that I am not out of the woods yet. May 1 brought the first anniversary of my Sister and my Brother-in-law's wedding--the last day I ever saw my Dad wearing formal clothes. This past weekend Brenda & I celebrated our own fifth anniversary, and this year we didn't modify it to go visit my father before he went into the hospital for what turned out to be a colossal waste of time, and the beginning of the end.
Tomorrow is the first anniversary of my dad's last major surgery, and the opening act in the little three and a half week long joyride that was his final performance.
So, after actually spending a few months going through my days not thinking about him for about half the day, Dad is back in the forefront. Fittingly, I got another one of those damned Charles Tyrhwitt catalogs in the mail today. For the uninitiated, Charles Tyrwhitt are London purveyors of fine men's dress shirts and ties, of which I was a customer for birthday presents, back when my dad was alive (personally, I never touch the stuff).
And so now I realize that June third is truly the last of the firsts.
lighting simulationist, crossfitter, former drinker.