It has been exactly one year since my father passed. I cannot believe it has been that long, I know it didn’t happen recently but I also don’t believe it has been a year either. One year without my father, what a strange thought. Still doesn’t feel real truthfully, but alas it is. That’s just the facts I suppose.

Today has been a weird and frustrating day. Woke up for an appointment at 7:20, where I ended up going to the completely wrong office. So I ended up going to my 8 o’clock appointment at 8:20 instead. Great start to the day. I already knew it was going to be a difficult day and that almost set me off. Luckily for me my doctor went to the wrong office as well, so even though I was 20 minutes late for my appointment my doctor was 15 minutes later than I was. Such is life.

After my late appointment, I ended up going home and doing nothing for most of the day until I decided to go on a short walk. I was a bit in my feels at this point and just needed to get some fresh air. Ended up going to a nearby park and sat in one of the seats of a baseball stadium. Now I was planning on sitting there and thinking about memories or what have you, and I did for about half the time. I do fear that I got hungry, which occupied my head for the remainder of the time I was sitting there. So I walked home, unfeeling, and got some food. Nothing notable really happened the rest of the day besides me getting tired and agitated. I’m not sure if I am agitated because I am tired or agitated for whatever feelings I am feeling. It’s probably a combination of both though let’s keep it real.

This agitation I am feeling though is directed at my family the majority of the time. These past months I have just found myself feeling as if I don’t belong at home. Everytime I come home I feel so out of place; everything is different. I can’t even describe it properly, I just feel like the first astronaut on Mars. But really I think the biggest difference is the people inside of it. My family has changed drastically I feel. I won’t get into specifics, but everyone is acting differently for one reason or another. I’m not blaming them at all for this, it is completely understandable and I’m sure I have changed as well, but coming home to whatever this is just drains me.

All of this to say I miss my dad. I miss the stability and reason he had. I miss watching and talking about sports with him. I miss his humor, as dry as it was. I miss his quiet demeanor, and the way he somehow knew everything in the gosh dang world. This house is missing him dearly. We all have lost that rock we all relied on to keep us standing and are trying to find out how to do it on our own. Life is different now and always will be. I will always have a part of myself missing. Nothing will ever be able to fill that gap, but over time it will grow smaller and it will hurt less. It has already shrunk from a year ago, but it still hurts pretty bad.

A few weeks ago (maybe almost a month now) I went up to Boston to go see the Red Sox play against the Cubs in one of their last games of the season. I was with my mom and two of my Dad’s friends along with one of their wives. I was looking forward to seeing them play as the last time I did was back in 2018.

Of course that was the plan anyway. Instead, the game got moved due to a giant storm blowing through, because of course there was. Why wouldn’t that happen to me? So instead we took a tour of Fenway, which was still cool, but definitely wasn’t the same. It also wasn’t the same without my father, as he is the whole reason I am a Red Sox fan. But I didn’t let missing the game get me down too bad, I was still excited for the playoffs and to see how the Sox did.

Well we got crushed by the Yankees in possibly the most humiliating fashion possible. I could only sit in front of the tv in my Red Sox hat in anguish. For some reason this playoff disappointment hurt more than any of the other recent ones. I suppose in my head sports are something that I still have that connects me to my dad, and I know out of all the sports he enjoyed, he enjoyed baseball the most. So the Red Sox mean a little more to me than the rest of the teams I support now. I hope next season goes better.

I didn’t really know how I was going to react to today. I didn’t know if I was going to be fine, emotional, or what other emotions there are. But after I showed up late to my appointment and said my last name to the front desk worker after she asked my date of birth, I knew. I almost broke out into tears right then and there. But I didn’t, and shockingly I haven’t cried the entire day until writing this blog. Grief is weird as I have written before. It isn’t a logical thing; you can’t predict how you’re going to feel ever. Like a week ago, I watched the “One Shining Moment” video on YouTube of the 2019 March Madness (college basketball) and practically burst out into tears. Like the heck is wrong with me? Nothing, grief is just weird.

A year later. Somehow I’m still here, living, surviving, doing what I do. Wouldn’t be here without all my family or friends though, so thank you for everything you have done to help. It means more than you know. But here’s to another year of grieving, hopefully easier than the last. May God bless you all.

Love you dad.

(Maybe Tomorrow by Stereophonics)