I was asked awhile ago by someone if I would always be so affected by all these anniversaries.  I had no answer except “I don’t know.”

People respond differently of course to death.  After my mom died, the anniversary of her death was this point of reference in my summer that was daunting.  I lost her when I was eight months pregnant with Raffi, never got to say goodbye in person, and even though it was something I expected at some point (she was an alcoholic), I did not envision it when she was 61. The first anniversary I took the day off, went to the beach for the day to reflect and think.  It was my mom.  I loved and missed her, I wanted so much to share the things that were happening with my newborn, ask her the gazillion questions that I had, say I was sorry.  Until you become a parent, you cannot appreciate the flaws that you so readily criticized. Subsequent anniversaries it slowly got less daunting.  I think there was even a year that I may have gotten through the day without even realizing. It is not that I still don’t miss her. It is more a veil that is always there, thin like, that if I tap into, I can go there at any  point verses this day that is overwhelming.

Violent death I think is this different animal.  I don’t know to be honest. I am only 2 1/2 years out.  What I can say is up to this point every single significant day affects me. And when there are two people, it doubles. I cannot even fathom more.

I am writing this on our 9th anniversary. However dear readers, I am going to share a secret, we eloped. At first, no one knew.  Well, the person who married us on this day did as she “fake” signed the documents. It was a secret we joked that we would take to our graves. Or maybe tell our kids someday. We just did not want to wait. But today, today is the day we had our family and community join us in our marriage which was just as important to us.  We got married on a waterfall in Gifford Pinchot National Forest. It was magical. Days like these, I am quiet and reflective. This one I am still out and doing the things I need to get done (adulting). I laugh with my dark humor though.  This week is National Suicide Prevention Week.  Of course our anniversary is this week.  May is Mental Health Awareness month (that is when they died).  Of course it is.

So, in addition to two wedding anniversaries, I have two birthdays, and her birthday being five days before mine sorta clouds that, so lets say three, and  their death day.  That is not counting the countless holidays that are infused with memories of them, of us, of family together. I rarely take the meds I have been prescribed, but each Christmas eve and Christmas I have taken full doses.  I just cannot be in my head with the memories of what was and what should be (at this point my seven year old in the wonders of what that holiday is). Last Christmas eve, when the kids came running up the stairs when “santa” came, I lost my shit. I went upstairs and sobbed uncontrollably for what felt like an hour. I look at the pictures and say, hmm, well you look like crap. I keep trying to show up for these things, fighting the urge to go hide.  I need to do it for Raffi, it’s not fair to her. if I don’t. But I wonder at times how she will look back at it all?  She doesn’t miss how I look, how very sad I am. I cannot imagine that she is not aware of them missing.

On Jesse’s birthday, I go away. This past January it was just an overnight. This day, I need to be away from life, responsibility, and reflect on him, on us. For their death anniversary, we go away, far far away. I cannot be anywhere near Portland.  This year I got away a week ahead of it and the week following. It was better that way. Bella’s birthday, we go away for a few days. I tell my patients, trust me, you don’t want me here.

I have found with time that the leading up to anniversaries are much worse that the actual day.  Don’t get me wrong, the day often sucks, is bittersweet, and tears are shed. I have learned that even if I am in a decent place (notice the lack of good, that is another piece completely), my body will still have a complete set of reactions going on whether I want it to or not, escpecially in that week leading up to it.

I have learned to try to have more compassion for myself. Learn to have more realistic expectations, know that some will be easier than others, and that I may be completely side swiped at any point with how it may affect me.  I have learned to ask for help.  I have also learned to say hey, this is coming up, I may be wonky.  These are all challenging for me as I am not a person who likes to admit they are weak. But I have also learned to change that mindset.  Because most importantly, it is not weakness to admit these things, it is self love. It is strength.