No, really. Twist a little harder.

Apparently, today was the day we buried Nick a year ago.
I had not thought of this. Honestly.
I remember the funeral, but not the date. It seemed somewhat irrelevant by that point.
My father (gotta love him) felt badly that I was so sad about Nick's angelday, and that he had not called. I did not say anything to them about it; I guess it just materialized in his failing memory and he realized he had been remiss in sharing the tears.
He called today, his voice cracking, sniffing out how he had been thinking about "my little family" and wanted to let me know how much he loved me.
Not putting two and two together, I dutifully returned his call, to see what was up. (Maybe mom was sick?)
He made small talk for a few minutes, then gave a dramatic pause to ask how I had been feeling.
I told him I was feeling much better now that the date had passed. Life moves on, you know, and I have to keep going.
"I still remember how upset you were", he said.
Yup.
"And how I wanted to make everything better for you, my baby."
That's sweet, daddy. Thank you.
"How cold is it there today? Is it snowing?"
Um? It's cold; no snow. (??!)
"Do you remember a year ago today how we were out in a blizzard?"
That is when he decided to launch into reliving all the minute details of the funeral. The burial. The aftermath.
I don't mean to sound unappreciative or anything. Really.
But I HAD been feeling so much better. Really!
So far today, I hadn't even thought about any of it once.
For a moment, I thought he had to have the wrong date. Had it really been four days?
And that got me to thinking.
Nicholas was delivered on a Thursday evening. On Friday, I was discharged from the hospital, and we made the funeral arrangements. Saturday was all booked up, so we had to wait until Monday to have the service. Many people missed it because of work.
Thank you, dad, for remembering for me.