We are nearly 10 months in to this journey through our first year without Ryan, and yesterday another holiday came and went. It doesn't seem to matter how big or small the holiday, each one is a reminder that he's not here, no matter how desperately I wish he were.
We've never been huge celebrators of Canada Day (and by that I mean we don't create elaborate plans or parties or anything), but we always mark the occasion somehow. A Jays game. A BBQ with friends. A day spent outside. There have been plenty of Canada Days with evenings spent on the back deck watching neighbourhood firework displays. The perfect types of celebrations, actually, for a young family.
This year, with Rich out of town and my dad visiting, I had little urge to do anything at all really. Because no matter where we went, or what we did, if my TV and social media accounts were any indication, the world would be full of families young and old celebrating the day.
And you know what, sometimes, "people" are still too much for me.
Sometimes, for me, a day well spent is one where I'm safe inside my house, hiding from the reality that life has moved on. And that can be especially true on holidays.
In the end, my dad and I went out for about an hour. But that was about all I had in me. The couch and my backyard felt like much safer spaces for me yesterday. And I think that's okay for the times it feels right.
I spent the 149th birthday of my country longing for my little boy who wouldn't be quite 10 months old. Maybe -- maybe -- Canada's 150th will be a bit brighter.