.

.

by Anneke Haku

You can imagine the surprise of those around me when I worked the Fathers Day following my dad's death in early June. "How can you be working already?" They questioned. "It's so soon."

I told them I needed the money, which was true...I did. But impending bills were not the reason I went back to work. I was there because of a desperate need to be normal.

When Christmas came six months later, I found I was too broke to make the drive to my grandparent's for the big family get-together. Work again was my excuse, but this time I think it had more to do with the unpleasant idea of opening Christmas presents surrounded by uncles. Other people's fathers. It wasn't so much the idea that it would be such a sad time. I think I was more worried I would actually enjoy myself. God forbid I should laugh.

New Years Eve was nothing less than obscene. I was at the home of my brother-in-law, who was in the advanced stages of bone cancer. His family and friends were not only in pain, they were exhausted. We rang in the New Year together, as best as we could. Sitting around the TV, flipping between live footage of Time Square and a cartoon marathon, I was the only one awake when 2000 rang in. Again another holiday successfully kept in check. How did I get through it? This is no holiday. It's just another, normal day.

It's true that holidays are hard for me, but when the time comes to celebrate at least there are friends and family around for support. Everyone is hypersensitive to your feelings and they acknowledge that something is missing. But you move on together and try to remember it's okay to miss someone and still laugh.

I find myself missing the non-holidays. The everydays. This past weekend my father-in-law was sweeping his garage. He was using a push broom and making a pile of dirt in the middle of the floor. As I watched him I found myself remembering how dad used to sweep our garage. I would hang out and bug him, questioning the logic behind sweeping a garage floor. I miss that.

Time goes by and we are left to create our own revelries. If I could choose one day to have back it wouldn't be our Christmas in Mexico or the birthday I got my first bike. It would be that Sunday in August when my dad made me wash the car before I went to the movies. Just knowing my dad was close by, sweeping the garage.

Missed A Program?
Healthworks on Videotape

If you missed seeing Healthworks on Prairie Public Television, you still have a chance to keep up to date with these important health issues. Order a videotape copy of any of these interesting and informative programs for only $24.95 per program. Order online or call 1-800-359-6900 to order your copies today.