Next Monday is my birthday, and tomorrow I'm going to celebrate with friends, and I'm really looking forward to it.
This past Wednesday, it was two years to the day that my mother died. I think we need to recognize and acknowledge these "death days" as well, even if it's only quietly, in our hearts. I'm saddened to realize that I don't remember what day it was when my father died, except I think it was the beginning of June.
I've been holding things together pretty well, even feeling pretty cheerful a bit of the time, but today a particularly perceptive friend at work asked me if I was okay and I nearly broke down. So I realized that I'm pretty much okay by dint of running faster than I can feel.
And that doesn't change the fact that I'm looking forward to tomorrow, and Monday, when I shall be 52 years old, and those who are going to celebrate with me tomorrow need not worry that I'll be sunk in gloom. I shan't.
I just needed to stop and feel for a moment. Then I'll move on.