New chapter

I can't believe it's been a year.

A year ago today, my mother went through her daily routine: woke up, got Daisy the dog ready and on her leash, then went to the nursing facility to spend time with Dad. He had a relatively good day, with minimal progress, and lots of dog petting. I love that he had finally gotten to a point where he recognized his beloved dog. And when I say beloved, I mean beloved. He called me Daisy by accident more than once.

I was just finishing up audition season here in Chicago, and after six long weeks, was prepping to hop on a plane to get home, see my Daddy and check out his new digs. Mom held the phone up to his ear (like she had done every day before) as I told him that I couldn't wait to see him, and I'd be there first thing tomorrow, and I loved him.

I never got the chance. He passed peacefully in his sleep that evening.

The flurry of events that followed are recounted below in previous posts. It was the most heartbreaking, supportive, frustrating, cathartic and beautiful week of my life. You can't prepare for that series of events, no matter how logically you try. It brings out the truest content of everyone's character. I learned a lot about the people in my life that week, both positive and negative, uplifting and devastating.

I am forever changed by that chapter of my life. But it's time to close that chapter.

It's doubtful that I'll ever stop mourning, but I made an agreement with myself that after a year I'd turn a corner. And after countless phone calls, chats into the wee hours, and extensive sessions of therapy, I think I'm ready. Mom and I promised each other that we'd be together on this date, and we are; she's here with me in the city. We're still a family and we will honor this time as such.

I miss him every day. That won't ever change. But the further away I get, the more I understand about why things are the way they are. I don't have to like them, but I do have to live with them. A piece of me died with him that day, but it's up to me to use the remaining pieces to live, just as he's always expected of me. Only now he's got a balcony seat to the show.