A Heartbreaking Work

June 10th makes it 2 years since Dad died. I made it through the 10th okay, but was pretty much a mess all day yesterday (the 11th) - I think it's because that was the day we finally got to the house in Pennsylvania, and the day I called all of the relatives, making it more of the "real" day for me. I've been thinking lately about all of the strange stages and phases of grief I've traveled through so far. Time, it seems, continues to move too fast and too slowly - some days it's like the first day he's gone, then yesterday I spent hours trying to figure out if it was the 2nd or 3rd anniversary.

Somewhat related, I tried to re-read "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" and ended up leaving it on the night stand at the JW Marriot in Washington. I read it when it first came out and didn't think too much of it, but I thought that now maybe I would "get it" since my circumstances have changed. Nope, still not a fan. I'm probably bias because I know (and like) someone who doesn't get portrayed very well in the book. But I still don't buy what I think is one of the main themes - that people who have been sideswiped by grief are members of a special club that "regular" folks could never understand, and it's okay to (on some level) write everyone else off. Dad's death doesn't make me part of a special club, and if it does I guess I don't want to be a member.