less traveled

Last night I received a call from my brother. He wanted to know how my birthday turned out. I put on my game face, so used to doing so, it's pretty automatic now. So, I lied and said it was good. Don't get me wrong, my mom came to visit the day BEFORE my birthday and we did have a grand day together, shared in full with my husband, but my actual birthday...well, sucked. I missed my dad from the moment I woke, and didn't stop feeling his absence until sleep took me at day's end.

Besides pining for my dad, my new age this year comes with a caveat I'm not yet ready or willing to accept. You see, my doctor told me in February that at age 37 your chances to conceive plummet. I could have gone a lot longer not knowing that little nugget of information. And plummet? Couldn't she have done better than that? To make things worse, my period had just slapped me in the face with yet another failed fertility treatment. Happy birthday!

I felt blue, lost, lonely, and infertile. I sat down at the edge of the lake and looked out over what remained of Autumn's purply plum and burnt orange leaves. The last bit of warm evening light lit the trees on the opposite bank enhancing the dramatic reflection on the cool flat water, and I felt a panic in my chest. An intense desire to somehow be able to stop time gripped me. How desperately I wanted to hold onto to something that I knew I couldn't. And the fleeting evening light intensified all of those feelings of time unraveling. I wanted to hang on to my dad, my fertility, my hoped for pregnancy, and as the November light quickly faded I felt all those things being taken away from me, too. I'm fully aware that time marches on, that is all too real now.

I've tried to embrace change in the past and have even found comfort as I've watched the glorious beauty of nature cycle around me. But this day, my 37th birthday, beauty evaded me. My longing consumed me. I felt a sense of loss in a way I'd never felt before. And without being able to do anything about it, the last of the light disappeared.

We've been under a tight deadline to finish some outstanding projects around the house, what with winter coming and no heat in the house and all. Then we found out Sean's dad and Carin were planning on a November junket to Iowa. This plan had been in place for awhile. It was meant to be a hunting trip for the boys, and a catch up and fuss over the new cottage event for the girls. Then Orion died last month and we figured Bill wouldn't make the trip at all. He called last week and said they were still planning on coming, they'd be here the 14th. Holy Cow. I was thrown into my "Oh, my God, everything must be finished and perfect before they arrive" mode and have gotten a lot done in a week. The charming Vermont Castings gas stove was installed, I finished the shelving in the laundry room, bought a sweet and yet practical window bench/storage unit for the dining room, bought rugs, put the privacy "glass" film on the bathroom windows, started on the curtains, bought the remaining rods we needed, framed photos and hung them, figured out a system and installed it for my jewelry, started finishing the beadboard in the hallway, took out the screens and put in the storm windows, and our friend Jon buttoned up the rest of the electrical stuff in the bedrooms and is finishing the light fixture for the living room...WOW, nothing like a little in-law visit to put a fire under you, huh?
Last night Sean's dad called to tell us they can't make the trip. They are in the midst of building their dream cottage and it's almost done, so we can't blame them. We were actually more surprised that they were still going to try to make the trip at all. I am terribly disappointed, though, that we won't get to see them. It's our chance to have Sean's family during the holiday season. Selfishly, I was looking forward to a little father-in-law time for me while I am missing my father. And, boy, we sure were gettiing things done with the impending visit pushing us along. I do hope we keep up the motivation to finish these outstanding projects so we can finally feel like we are at a finishing point. I also hope we can get something on the schedule for another visit so we have something to look forward to. Maybe I can turn it into a game to see what I can get done by the 14th anyway. Get the door hung on the bathroom, finish the guestbedroom, finish the hearth around the fireplace, new handles on the new bench, finish curtains... or maybe tonight I'll just go home and curl up in front of my new "fire" and read a book until I have a date for the next visiting guest. *sigh*

My first birthday without my dad. The entire day passed without the phone ever ringing with his voice greeting me on the other end of the line singing me happy birthday. No silly message when I came home. No card in the mailbox to tell me he loved me. No moment where the world stopped spinning while he made me feel special, the way only a father can. It was a day that came and left without him, like all the other days keep coming and going. It seems impossible to me that he is gone. It seems impossible to me that the days can continue without him. Impossible. And yet, the days keep passing.
In our move, things got a little more than jumbled and I can not find the last birthday card he sent me. I want to hear his voice in my mind while I reread those words. And pretend he is still here. But I can't find the card.

My first entry. My roller coaster entires begin. We'll see where it takes me.
No need to start at the beginning. I'm just jumping in at the moment. I'm sure you'll catch up.
Buckle up and hang on. It's liable to be a doozie.