June is the worst.

So here we are at June again. I don't care for June. Not one bit.

It seems like my emotions respond to the anniversaries, milestones and memories of Brian's passing even when I don't have a conscious recollection of the specifics of the date or event that triggers them. 

There are some obvious ones - his birthday in March, the day in late April when we received confirmation that the mass was, in fact, cancer and the day we first learned the word "cholangiocarcinoma" in early May. June includes the date we stopped treatment, the date of his passing and our wedding anniversary. 

Then there are the not so obvious triggers -- like the start of the NBA playoffs, mother's day, Eastmark Awesomefest, and the first Friday concerts. My brain has permanently tied these events to the memory of Brian's illness and death. 

This makes spring and early summer a really shitty time for me. 

I thought the firsts would be the worst and they were definitely tough. My 40th birthday was a little over a month after he died and it was BRUTAL. The first holiday season was pretty terrible too, but it wasn't the worst. I was prepared for those dates. I knew they were coming and that they would be tough. My friends, family, and church rallied around me to make sure I was supported. Those firsts were not easy, but they weren't the worst. 

The worst is the stuff that I didn't see coming. The sucker punch in the gut when I turn down the aisle in the grocery store and see that egg rolls are on sale and then realize there's no one else on the planet who knows why that's funny.  

The worst is the thousands of little paper cuts I get every day when someone says a joke he would have appreciated or when I accidentally put the cheese on a taco before the sour cream or when something is obnoxiously loud or when Tess goes swimming or when I realize that the good friend I'm talking to never even met him. 

It feels so fresh for me, but it's almost two years old now.  Life has gone on (as it does and should). For the most part, the people around me don't know anything about the person I was before this and the only thing they know of Brian is what I've told them. That's the worst. 

It's a bit of a catchphrase.