Where did the time go? It's June again and rather than wait until the week of the anniversary to deal with it, I'm trying to prepare and deal with it now. Not sure what that is all going to entail but distracting myself and trying to forget about it certainly didn't help. It happened and while the anniversary is nowhere near as bad as the event was itself, there are still a lot of emotions bottled up inside, emotions that are very much like a sealed and shaken bottle of soda, just waiting for the moment someone unsuspecting opens the cap.
There's still a lot I have not dealt with. Other than a few cards, I have not spoken with my dad since the impact statement I made in November of 2004. I talk to my mom fairly regularly as she calls me (collect but at least it's not too expensive). Part of the reason for this stems from our very rocky relationship when I was growing up. He was never an easy person to talk to, he was often volatile, and you just never knew what would set him off so it was just easier to avoid him which really was a shame because we're very much alike in our interests. When he did take the time to actually talk (as opposed to venting about my mom or older sister), he had a lot of knowledge and is a very intelligent person but very very often unapproachable. His constant anger and dislike of people and the world eventually drove us all away and so, in the years since the murder (which, as far as that goes, wasn't all that surprising a thing to have happened considering how volatile he was), I never really talked to him. A big part of that has been that fear of rejection as he had rejected me so many times while I was growing up. It had always been easier to control the relationship I have with my mom (especially now) but I never felt that way about my dad.
There are a lot of difficult and conflicting emotions to wade through and for the most part, I'm alone in that journey. For many, it's easier to just move on and forget about it but really, it's not that easy or that simple. It may have been almost 11 years but the impact of that day is still there. The loss of parental units (even if that loss is incarceration and not death) is still a loss and it was at such a time in my life where that loss was very acutely felt. I was 22 years old and still in need of some parental guidance. Since that time, I have been more or less swimming the waters of adulthood alone with no one to really get any advice from. Eleven years later and I'm still having trouble accepting that I'm pretty much on my own.
