The Special Days Feel Empty

The Special Days Feel Empty

The special days feel empty.
They once felt like a gift, a dance even;
They were warm music,
Something to enjoy, something to sit in,
Delight in.

They were days of gathering,
Of celebrating, of eating together, of laughing.
The sum was greater than the parts.

But today felt so ordinary,
Full of responsibility
And mundane obligation.
The day felt stripped,
And of disjointed parts.

So I made crepes for dinner,
And tried to create the magic
But it didn’t work.

The special days feel empty

Father’s Day, June 18, 2023 (Day 187). I don’t feel weighed down by grief today, but did have a realization late afternoon that I was sad and disappointed the day was what it was. I wrote this in that moment.

Bagels for breakfast, leftovers for lunch, and I scrambled to produce dinner: crepes, my go-to to comfort the boys. They love them.

As it was, the day felt anything but special, apart from the sweet gift and notes from the boys first thing. I did appreciate their excitement to say Happy Father’s Day and give me their creations, as we call them. I also appreciated a few unexpected gifts from friends and texts along the way. But, after the early interaction with the boys, the day became the usual day of providing and managing all of it alone. Against the backdrop of rich family culture memories, the day inevitably felt empty).