I have mentioned to a few friends and office mates my secret wish for February to not happen or for it to be over soon, that we’d jump right to March after January. This is unusual because for the longest time it’s August that I wanted to skip because of the excitement that the -ber months bring.
No, it’s not because I am single and unattached and February is Valentine’s Day. I’ve been single and unattached for 30 Valentine’s already. And, ironically, the first time that I sort of felt the pressure of Valentine’s is when I was with my last girlfriend, ca. 2003. I had no idea on how to celebrate it with her and so I ended up giving her a rose-shaped glass on a stick and then I drowned myself in paperwork again. It was the least bit romantic, not even creative. And that was the last. No romantic Valentine’s day celebration for me, before or after the fact.
But please don’t get me wrong. February is the month of the year that accommodates the adjustments that need to be for our 365 and 1/4 days. And I find it interesting. This year just seems different.
Truth is that, because it is still fresh, memories of what our family underwent on February last year floods my memory until now.
On this same day last year, it was Papa’s 2nd day at the hospital. He left home (we brought him there) on February 10 and he never got back. We laid his body on the grave a full month later.
The memory is not painful. Just sad. Or maybe I’m just denying. Truth is.. I miss him. I never got to hold his hands when he was alive and healthy. It was cold when I last held it because it was then that he breathed his last.