I celebrated 50 trips around the sun on November 12, 2018.  My daughter hosted a surprise party for me and I was surrounded by friends and family who declared “The Best Is Yet To Come!” and other forward-thinking platitudes.  To be honest, I didn’t mind turning the corner.  As I hit the mid-life mark, I was happy in my life.  I felt more confident in my self, my profession, my parenting, my relationships.  My daughter was heading down the home stretch at CSU, my son was putting his final pieces in place before he locked in his decision to play D2 baseball at Lake Erie College, I was loving my new job at Andrews Osborne Academy, and I was proud of the work we were doing with Thoroughbred Aftercare and CANTER Ohio.  I had discovered the art of self-care, and while I did have to say goodbye to some old friends, I realized that some relationships are not good for your mental and emotional well being.  In all, I was looking forward to closing out a challenging 2018 and welcoming 2019.

Then my dad died.

To say that this single event ushered in a year of ruction is an understatement of the highest order.  Watching my dad slip away for the better part of two years was difficult…every day he was a little less my dad, and I grieved this loss as it was happening.  But to suddenly have this void where he was been caused me to question everything.  I didn’t know who I was without him.  I didn’t know how to be who he wanted me to be without his guidance.  I don’t know how to be.  I listen for him.  I search for him.  I visit the cemetery to talk to him.  But none of those things could fill the empty chair at the head of the table at Easter — the first one without.  Then a father’s day to acknowledge but not celebrate, a day at the pool without him sleeping in his chair.  An anniversary that would have marked 63 years of marriage — how do you let it pass without a card for the one left behind?  How do we DO Thanksgiving and Christmas?

I celebrated 51 trips around the sun on November 12, 2019.  I did it without my Daddy whose birthday was November 9th.  My dad always said that I was his gift.  A beautiful mess.  I’ll never hear his voice again, or be loved like that, or maybe even be loved at all.

But as we turn the page to 2020, we will have made it.  We have survived that first year without.  Relationships have changed — some for the better, some for the worse.  I’m so thankful to work at a place I love, and am so proud of how my children are just slaying it at a) her grownup life and b) his first year away from home.  So I’ll celebrate the little things when they come.