The 29th has some kind of weird power over me. I try to control it, I try to ignore it. I try to make it fun, cool, or memorable. I try to forget that the 29th exists. I try to pretend it’s no big deal. I try to downplay it. No matter what I try, it never leaves. It’s always there, right in the back of my mind, itching to come out and be noticed. I know (without meaning to) exactly how many days we’ve gone without Mike. Today marks 1400 days. Yesterday was our three-year-and-10-month anniversary without him.  Forty-six 29ths. Two short months from FOUR YEARS, which sounds like a long time. Almost a quarter of Drew’s and a third of Emrie’s lives. When I try to just let time flow and not obsess about the dates, I cannot do it. I can’t stop. Somehow I am oddly addicted to the passage of time.  I don’t know if I’m the only one or if this is normal. Does everyone obsess about anniversaries? And I don’t mean big anniversaries like the third birthday without Mike, the second Christmas without him, or our 20 year anniversary coming up in August. Those are big things, and they are impactful and that will never ever go away, I know this. What I mean are the monthly anniversaries. Will I ever quit thinking about those?

I wonder sometimes if I am hypersensitive to time. If everyone is like this, or if it is just me. I rank the 29ths, as they pass,  in categories of “the good, the bad, and the ugly.” Yesterday was a really good 29th. Probably my best. We rode four wheelers, we saw some breathtaking scenery, I went out to dinner with Drew and just enjoyed his company. It was a very, very good day. I would definitely put it in “the good 29ths category.” But it was still a 29th. And, believe me, there have been some really super bad 29ths. Even when I try to pretend them away, I’ve had more than one perfectly good week ruined by a simple date on a calendar. I contemplate this sometimes and wonder if it’s just me making it up to be a bigger deal than it really is.  Maybe I am creating this drama in my mind. If I could just stop being uber vigilant about counting the days maybe it would go away. I try to stop counting. I have made up little games in my mind to try to forget. I even tried changing time zones on my phone so it would completely skip the 29th, but I have known from Day One exactly how many days Mike has been gone. I have my doubts that this is healthy. I wonder sometimes how to change my mindset. I know that your thoughts control your words, your words become your actions, etc. I “get” that it’s really important to control my thoughts. But sometimes it’s harder than it seems. I wonder sometimes why this is such a big deal to me. Why it’s so important to know how many months. Why I can’t quit with the 29th obsession.  I certainly don’t mean to. I don’t want to think of my life in little tiny sliced up sections of months, days, and years. I just want to be normal and not have this constant thought of anniversaries and times and dates rolling around in my mind.  I don’t know how. Maybe this is helpful for me. Maybe this is part of what is helping me get through all of this. I’m curious if everyone else goes through the same thing or if I am unique and weird and crazy. Another facet of grief that sucks, making me constantly wonder if I’m just a nut job or if I’m going through this just like everyone else does. I really do wish that grief, dirty biotch that she is, wouldn’t try to control my thoughts.

A huge part of it, I am certain, is that I can’t let this life of Mike’s not matter. I can’t let the memories go away, I can’t let him have lived and been forgotten. I think that’s what it boils down to. I have to mark in my mind, at least, the days that have passed since that beautiful soul left this earth. I’m afraid that if I don’t, no one will.  Above all, he can’t not have mattered. We all move on, the days go by, we are all happy and forward-thinking and trying to live our lives, but in the back my mind it is always there. I can’t let it not matter. His life was too important.