my annual guinness

For our book club this month, we chose Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. I read a few of her books in college so I was excited to revisit her again without the distraction of other required class reading. However, I didn't realize this is a book about grief. (It begins with her husband's death and tracks her experiences in the following year.) And I didn't think about the fact that I'd be reading it during my personal, annual "re-grieving period." (March and April are infected by a constant playback of those months in 2008 when my dad became especially sick and then died). Let's just say, it's been a tough read.

As difficult as it was to get through, I thought it was really interesting to see how much of her experience with grief mirrored my own, in relation to losing my dad. Of course hers was by far more awful, but considering your relationship with a parent is completely different from the one you have with your spouse, you'd think the losses would feel worlds apart. But she gives a strikingly honest account of the regret, self-pity, confusion, doubt, and helplessness that marked her grief, my grief, and I suspect, many other people's...all for completely different reasons.

It's now been three years since he passed away. I hardly ever blog about it because no one needs to read my own Didion-esque account, but it's still very much a presence in my mind. Today would have been his 63rd birthday, and as sad as this makes me, it also concludes "that period" for another year. Brian and I have shared a Guinness on April 25th every year in his memory - it's a nice little tradition that I look forward to. (Although this go-around I'll have to stomach an entire one by myself, and when you're alone, I hear it's unacceptable to take this down in Irish Car Bomb form). I'm definitely happy to gain a little forward momentum now that I've finished the book and am closing out the month as well. Onward and upward, right friends?