Day 362- Anxious Days

The countdown to the anniversary of Shayna’s passing continues. It’s just a few days away now.  I don’t think I’ve been as cognizant of a particular date for as long as I have been of this one since I was a kid and was counting down the days to Christmas.  I know nothing magical will happen on that day, but for some reason I just want to get it behind me, look at it in my rear view mirror.  it’s a day I dread, but i want it to get here quickly and get it done. I want to get past all of the first. First Labor Day without Shayna, first vacation without Shayna, first Halloween, Christmas, New Year’s, Derby Party, Mother’s Day.  Father’s Day, today,  is the last of the firsts.  I remember clearly last Father’s Day being with Shayna. She had just returned from her week in Orlando at her national volleyball tournament. She was so happy.  She gave me a t-shirt from the venue. We had steak. I remember her sitting in the seat next to me enjoying her blood red rare steak- just the way she liked it. I think I actually got the temperature on her steak right that time.  

Yesterday, on Facebook the posts started going up, people making tributes to their fathers.  Many posted in tribute to their father’s in heaven.  My father’s still here. I’m glad for that.  The problem though is I am here and my daughter is in heaven.  How fucked up is that?  This is not the way this was supposed to happen.

I’m taking the day off of walking today. I’ve been hitting it hard, five miles a day every day for a long time.  My knees are swollen- as bad as they’ve ever been, as bad as they were when I first did Insanity 7 years ago. It’ll be weird not having that time this morning.  I dreamt last night I was on a walk and I looked down and my Fitbit was gone, but a piece of it was embedded in my wrist.  I traced my steps back to find it and finally found it smashed into pieces on the ground, covered in dust as if it had been laying there for months. I able to find all of the pieces and put it back together.  This was just one of a series of dreams all of which were slightly disturbing.  In another I was sitting in a restaurant that specialized in making nothing but breakfasts.  Pretty much just eggs, toast and orange juice on the menu.  I ordered eggs over easy, toast, bacon and orange juice. Every one at the table got orange juice except me.  Then, there was the classic dream that I have all the time only each time it’s different.  In my dream I’m 55 years old, but I’ve only been out of college for a couple of years, my job sucks. I’m not making much money. They tell me it’s because I have no experience. I’m complaining to someone about how my best days are behind me and that I really have nothing to look forward to because I can’t start over at 55.  Ah… dreams.  So strange.  

Yesterday, I hear from Tywana that Kayla has had another dream visit from Shayna. i’ve agreed to not share Kayla’s dream visits from Shayna. That’s between the two of them, but part of the communication is that Shayna reminds Kayla that she only comes to Kayla.  I’ve had some dreams about Shayna.  A couple might have been visits, but nothing like the one’s Kayla has.  I have to admit I’m a bit jealous, but I understand their bond and maybe it’s just not in the cards for me to have those visits.  I’m ambivalent.  I’m so happy that Shayna is still coming to Kayla.  However, I wish I could have that kind of communication with her.

Yesterday I got some time alone and this is the weekend of the US Open Golf Tournament.  The one thing I always ask for Father’s Day is just to have the chance to watch the final round of the US Open.  I used to be a fairly avid golfer.  I always at least watch the major tournaments.    I haven’t played much in years now though. I hardly saw any of the Memorial Tournament. It’s just not the same anymore.  When I get this time alone I turn the TV on to catch some of the action.  Tiger Woods is my all time favorite player and, of course, he’s not playing again. Tiger hasn’t played in so long they aren’t even really talking about him much anymore.  Phil Mickelson has missed the cut. The guys I used to get really emotionally attached to watching are gone from the game. I watch a while and turn it off.  Maybe I’ll watch the final round this afternoon, maybe not.  I’m not sure.  Things change.  One of the things that requires the most wisdom is knowing when to let go of them.

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