Untitled: or How I'm Trying To Do 8th March Differently.
8th March is my father’s birthday. Up until 7 years ago, it was always a celebration in our home, especially because he always took time to celebrate the women in his life: his wife and his three daughters. It is a much less celebratory day, now, as each year is a harsh reminder that he is no longer with us. This year, I am determined to do something different with this day, which usually throws me into a pit of grief and despair. (Along with Christmas, my parents’ wedding anniversary, family birthdays, etc. The list is endless. The emptiness he left is vast and wide and infinite. Ugh. I miss him so damn much.) Our family, like so many others around the world, has dealt with so much grief recently. I can’t tell you the number of funerals, church services, burials I have attended, or not been able to attend in the past few months. It is exhausting. It can break you. Especially when the one person who would comfort you, or help you make sense of the madness, or tell you that everything