After doing a triumphant morning run on Monday, I was caught unaware yesterday by the two year anniversary of my dad’s sudden death. It’s not that I didn’t realize April 9th was coming. It was more that I was busy enough that I kept it out of my mind. My body remembered though.

When I woke up Tuesday morning, all the euphoria from Monday was gone. Since I was only thinking of it as “Tuesday,” and not “April 9th,” I didn’t realize why I was so bummed until the day was almost over and I was forced to write the date on something. Once I printed the numbers – 4/9 – I literally sat back in my seat. Then I brought up Facebook and wrote, “Well shit. I just looked at the calendar. No wonder I woke up blue today. I miss my dad. :-(“

Some anniversaries suck.

So I took the day and wallowed in feeling sad and mourning. I drank too much wine. I listened to songs we listened to together. I thought about him. I missed him. I had conversations in my head where I veered between bitching at him for being gone and trying to catch him up on all that’s happened since he left. I talked to my mom. I had support from friends and family all over.

When I woke up this morning, I felt pretty crappy. No more full bottles of wine for me while training. I didn’t wog then, but I will tonight. And I feel so much lighter for letting myself have that day. Funny what happens when I stop fighting things.  My mood now is back to happy, back to looking forward to training. 

And so the roller coaster coasts.