The first anniversary of Zach’s death is coming up. I’ve spoken before about how the 14th of each month was an important day of remembrance in the early times. Now the true anniversary is upon us. At one time I was planning a complete review of the events of that evening. Now I don’t think that’s going to happen. It won’t happen in the next week anyway. I do still intend to do that but it will come out in its own time.
My therapist commented that there are many examples of humans treating the first year after a death as particularly important. My feelings today are not any different than what I posted a couple of days ago so I won’t belabor the point.
Before last November 14th, life had a certain kind of meaning that seemed self evident. Those ideas were shattered and this blog is a testament to the difficulty of picking up the pieces, to reconstruct meaning.
My therapist early on suggested that I read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning but after a few more sessions said I should wait. That was in the summer when I was depressed. I will ask her about it today but I know that meaning must come from within not without so I will continue to look – and think – on my own.