October 31st. The dreaded day that broke my heart so many years ago. The day that I had one less parent to help guide me through this world. The day that I was no longer daddy’s little girl. I remember this day last year and the grief that I felt. Alas, this day has crept upon me again. This time though, for the first time in 18 years I did more than lay on my couch and cry.
While I didn’t get dressed up or pass out candy, I did manage to take my LoveBug to a Halloween dance party for toddlers at the library. I didn’t want to fully commit to buying him a costume since I wasn’t sure if I’d go through with leaving the house, so I dressed him up as a cowboy with clothes we had at home. We also stopped by a friend’s Halloween party. LoveBug didn’t know what was going on, but he was excited to be around new people. He ran around the living room passing out fist bumps and dancing to the music. I was surprised that I really enjoyed seeing everyone so happy and didn’t feel sad. The last few years of my father’s life, he was blind. He didn’t even know what I looked like. The fact that I can see my son and have this experience with him is a gift. So although something in me feels guilty that I did not grieve, a piece of me feels grateful that I have this moment.
This could be a turning point for me. It is bittersweet though. A love taken from me and a love given to me. They say that having kids changes a person. Bringing a life into this world has given me something that was long lost: joy. Spending this day with my son has helped me turn a day that has caused such sorrow into a day that heals the wound in my heart.