So when I said that I'd blog every day, apparently I meant every weekday, because the weekend went by with nary a peep from me. I actually sat at the computer a few times with the intent to blog and then lost the will. Father's Day did me in, I'm afraid. I felt compelled to write something deep, or at least touching, and I had nothin'. Not a thing.
One of Riley's favorite books for a while was Joseph Had a Little Overcoat, the moral of which is that you can actually make something out of nothing. I find that while I have nothing at all on Father's Day, that nothing feels like something, something that's blocking me up and keeping me from writing about anything else.
Two facts: (1) John only ever experienced Father's Day as a father-to-be; (2) John hated made-up holidays. The fact that he never got to experience a "real" Father's Day was troubling to me when Father's Day came around after he died, but by the same token, I knew he wouldn't have wanted to do anything to celebrate other than spend time with the kids and me. Besides, at that point the twins were about to turn a year old, I had just returned to work after a nearly two-month leave in the wake of John's death, and Hallmark foolishness was not particularly on my mind.
The next year, Father's Day was much harder. Maddie and Riley were about to turn two, we were in a rough spot developmentally and I was coming apart at the seams but pretending to hold it together. I felt John's absence last year acutely both from the standpoint of really wishing I had a partner in the very difficult job of parenting and from the standpoint of how much the kids were missing by not having John in their lives. John was an amazing person, and a very different person from me. In some ways, we were quite similar but in many we were complementary rather than supplementary. There's so much the twins would have learned from him and enjoyed about him, and Father's Day last year made me sad for them, for the loss they are not yet truly aware they have suffered.
This year, Father's Day was surrounded by plenty of distraction: the move, the new job, the limbo between houses. I confess—and it does feel like a confession, as though I've done something wrong that I need to absolve—that John was not much on my mind this Father's Day. I was happy to spend time with my dad and stepdad and other family and friends, but I spent little time reflecting on John or his absence. Some might see this as a sign of healing or moving on, but I think it's more a sign that I've got a lot on my plate right now.
From nothingness to everythingness: today Maddie and Riley are three. Three whole years old. The family celebration will be this weekend, and the precious post-work dinner/bedtime sequence of events would have left an actual-day celebration of any substance feeling crowded and rushed. So as far as M&R are concerned, their birthday is not until Sunday. Growing up in a family of divorced and remarried parents, I'm used to celebrating big events on days other than their calendar occurrence, so this does not feel strange to me at all. Plus, three year olds have little to no concept of dates, or at least mine don't. So for us, this Sunday will be June 22 this year.
That said: HOLY SHIT MADDIE AND RILEY ARE THREE! They are glorious and wonderful and hilarious and perfect.
Three. Happy birthday, my babies.