On this, the 2nd anniversary of daddy's death, 2 years and 2 days since I last saw him, and 2 years 25 days since I last spoke to him, I am trying something different.
Last year on this day, I took off from work. I wasn't sure whether I would be a wreck or not. I was. I went to mass, then promptly returned to my darkened bedroom with a bottle of scotch. I did cry a little. And I drank almost the whole bottle of scotch. I kind of made sure I would be a wreck. They say you can call things to you. I realized soon after that day that it's true. If you plan out a day to be miserable, God's gonna make sure you're miserable.
This year, I am at work. In fact, I am "working" as I write this. I'm going to a waxing appointment after work and then home to dinner with a loved one. I have stopped calling him. Yeah, business as usual. Daddy would've wanted me to "quit dawdling" and stop whining and get with the program, so here you go, dad.
I bet he is having a steak dinner with a bloody Mary while watching a tango show. I would love to join him.
I haven't eaten a good piece of red meat in months.
"Why in the hell would you do that to yourself???"
I don't know, daddy. I don't know.