The Anticipation and Knitting

I'm just wondering, is the anticipation of a certain day/date worse than when the actual day/date comes to light? I only have scenarios regarding my mom's death in my mindframe here.

For example, my mom died on a Saturday morning. Since that day every Friday night I feel like crap and am antsy while anticipating the dawn of a new Saturday. Then Saturday gets here and I just kind of get through it. Not easily yet not so difficult either. Just one foot in front of the other kind of get through it.

And then dates on the calendar. The 19th was yesterday. One full calendar month without my mom. I've never been one to actually count days and weeks when someone dies but I've also never lost anyone who I've felt it necessary to do so for. It's different this time since it's my mom and so I have this fascination with being able to at least know the number of days or weeks it's been since she was alive. All very weird to me. But I digress. So the 18th was a very crappy day and all day I kept acknowledging in my head that the next day was the dreaded 19th. But the 19th got here and it actually was the best day to get through since the previous 19th.

My point being, I seem to be having a harder time anticipating certain days/dates than making it through the actual day/date itself. Why? Because leading up to it is worse than just tackling it head on?

This grief thing is so foreign to me. I can be having a good old time (yeah, weird huh? not ashamed to admit that even though my mom died a month ago I do have some days where I'm actually getting along pretty good and actually enjoying myself while still grieving). And then I'll see something around my house, like these little washcloths that my mom always made for my daughters that drove me nuts, and I'll fall into a hole for couple of minutes. Or I'll be at my parents' house and I'll find something and think "oh I can't believe she saved that" and fall apart. The first time I saw her hand-writing after she died I lost it. And then I quickly realized that her handwriting is everywhere on all these notebooks and papers she kept. And I knew I'd be seeing her handwriting for a long time to come. So I fell and then picked myself back up.

I had to go through her craft stuff today as I was cleaning. Or should I say a portion of her craft stuff. That woman had some darn craft supplies. I found her knitting needles and lost it. She completely enjoyed her knitting. And it was bond that she shared with my grandma as she was my grandma's only daughter who really had the passion for the art of knitting. When my grandma dies my mom was supposed to get her knitting needles. Except now my mom is gone before my grandma and my sisters and I don't knit. And my mom isn't here anymore to get my grandma's knitting needles passed to her.

I'm willing to try to learn. Except I'm left handed and I've tried to learn before. I really wish I could learn this time. I have enough yarn from my mom to make afghans for years. And there is nothing like a homemade afghan to cozy up in. Steve always tells me to get a hobby. I just might do that.

Hmmm...me, a knitter?

Who knows. Strangers things have happened.