Dates

I was filling out some insurance forms recently and I needed the date that I started my current job.  It took some digging, but I finally found it.  I have a colleague who can rattle off his start date from memory.  He can also tell you the start and end dates of his prior employment.  I am not like him.  I have limited space in my brain for dates and I reserve it for the big ones, like birthdays and anniversaries.

I don't tend to dwell in the past, so I like that birthdays and wedding anniversaries are usually celebrations of the present (little pun intended).  The significance is in the time that has elapsed since the event, not the event itself.  Birthdays are a celebration of an age attained, not a rememberance of the actual birth (although, that might put an interesting twist on some of the kid parties we've hosted).  I guess, in a way, it is an affirmation of the event that started it all, an extension of the joy that was present then.  I like all of this.

I have trouble figuring out what to do with anniversaries of events that were not joyous.  It is almost as if they work in reverse.  Instead of each passing year increasing the joy, each year can soften the pain, sometimes.  When it's the anniversary of something ending, it's hard to stay in the present.  In some ways, there is no present, just a larger gap, more distance.

Today is the anniversary of the death of my son.  If I think about it, I can't help but find myself in the hospital, sitting with my wife.  She held him as the doctor turned off the machines that were keeping him alive.  It's been thirteen years, and I really don't want to be back in that room.  But then, I don't really want to forget the last time I touched my son either.