Many widows who now count their journey in years talk about the death march - the physical and emotional experience in the lead up to the anniversary of their partner's death. No matter what else has passed, including re-partnering, the body keeps those memories and marks time.
My grief shows itself physically. For the last week or so, I've been feeling like crap - unable to eat, sleeping even worse than usual, actually feeling the effects of my life-long tendency not to drink water, very short with J and struggling to deal with the 2 year old meltdowns that have appeared.
So it looks like my death march has begun, even though the 'deathaversary' isn't until June.
I've actually been feeling pretty good. University starts next week and I've reached the milestone of being able to take my wedding rings off - the time felt right.
So I've been trying to think 'why now'. I've know all along that I've been grieving on a two-date rhythm based on when Mr Trifectagirl got sick, and then passed. And for my experience, the illness date is the stronger of the two and the anniversary of him getting sick is 6 weeks or so away.
Then it dawned on me as the calendar flipped into February there is a third date I hadn't been conscious of, February 22nd - the date of the surgery that lead to his illness. The surgery I still believe that if he'd listend to doctor's orders, he could have avoided in the first place.
It doesn't help that prior to the 22nd I have J's 2nd birthday, the first without his father, and cupid day. Not that it was big for us, it's just freaking everywhere and a reminder of what has gone.
At least now that I've identified what's going on, I can do what I can to take care of myself.
I still don't feel like eating, though.