Yesterday was my Pop Pop's birthday. Each year I travel to the hill of his gravesite to celebrate his birthday. I've always been silently teased by the irony, but ultimately understood by my family for this ritual. When I was a kid my Pop would sneak roll ups of salami and bags of seed cookies when my Mom wasn't looking-a betrayal to the current diet he was sworn to follow. He would quietly look at me from across his kitchen, lifting his pointer finger to his lips. Secret's safe with me.
I bring seed cookies to his grave, dig a little hole in the soil in front of his tomb stone, and push lit candles into the soil for the wind to blow out. Over the years I've convinced myself that I know he's still near me because eventually the wind blows, and for a moment he's still here. Sneaking seed cookies and rolls of salami when my Mom isn't looking.
This year I got caught up in whatever tedious detail that was on my plate at the time, and I forgot his birthday. And his seed cookies. And since I've remembered that I've missed it, I've been beating myself up for not only what I've missed in 24 hours, but what I've missed in the past year. Since I've "moved on." Since I've "grown up."
I think it's interesting how we keep track of our weeks and days, well, nowadays.
It's been a year since I've posted. And not even figuratively. Down to the week, one year. In the past year I've caught myself saying "since" and "until" more and more. But since and until what?
The ebb and flow of the since-and-until can be terrifying when you've forgotten where you're standing right now, all because you were too busy holding on for the storm you were told was coming tomorrow yesterday.
Each year I renew my calendar with a new starting point. January renews our calendar, but it leaves the fiscal year in the red, the zodiac's spliced and the seasons in flux. What used to be arbitrary dates are now pillars in our personal history creating anniversaries much stronger than calendar days. We catch ourselves living day to day looking forward to whats coming our way, but constantly reminding ourselves of the past. Never present, never focused, never living in the minute.
I've let some days fall off my calendar, forgetting that they've even passed. With a little effort, I've picked up some new dates to add to the 365. Some dates have passed that still leave me heartbroken, others not. Some dates make me blush, others still make me nauseous. Some dates remind me of bright blue walls and exhaust fans, and some remind me of pools with sprinklers.
I'm living in the ebb and flow of the since and until, and it's terrifying and comforting at the same time. I don't know what I'm waiting for, or what the until is. For the first time in a long time, I've stopped counting my weeks since the big fall. I'm not waiting for things to get better, they just are. But some of the big questions still remain. What am I moving towards? What's next.
It's been 11 months since I switched jobs, one month until I can finally celebrate a happy anniversary. One year since I finally started rowing again, one month until my big vacation. I don't know whats next, what I'm waiting for, or what I think is waiting for me. I guess for now, I'll just go with the flow, or in my case, with the breeze.
Happy Birthday
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