19,543
“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”
I have spent the better part of this year anxiously watching the calendar, dreading this day. Each passing day has felt ominous, like a doomsday countdown.
Today marks the 19,543rd day of my life, matching exactly the age my grandfather—my mother’s father—was when he took his own life. Today is also the fifth anniversary of my mother’s death. Merely a cosmic coincidence of morbid timing, noticed only in my own mind, this fact is utterly meaningless to the outside world, and yet has lived in my headspace, deprived me of sleep, and invaded my well-being in too many ways.
Since February, when I had this tragic realization, I have felt an undercurrent of dread, as though this specific date would somehow become an inevitable pattern. My grandfather’s decision, made just twenty years before I was born (although it feels like it may as well have been a century) lingers in my mind. I have occasionally feared my own struggles might lead me toward the same fate, and yet this realization also has given me the confidence to emphatically say “Hell, no!” to the gremlins that sit on my shoulder.
Arriving at this day feels like an achievement. I wish I could say that one conversation or one therapy session lifted the burden, but healing is not so straightforward. Each day, I take small steps. I remind myself that I am not alone, that I have the love of my wife and family both to rely on and to nurture. I focus on the simplest tasks, like helping with homework or reading a short chapter in a book. Over time, these little actions have strung together into a lifeline that has helped me weather the worst moments.
I am spending today honoring the loved ones I have lost, including my grandfather and my mother. Their memories remind me that life is certainly fragile and precious. By recognizing this pain, I am giving myself permission to see this day as a turning point and lay out a path that encourages me to carry on. Acknowledging this journey lets me live with greater empathy for myself and those around me.
I may not have the answers for tomorrow, but today I can say “I made it!” And so, here I am, grateful for all that life has brought. Now I will keep going, one day at a time, to face each challenge and savor in each success.
[Camus, Albert. “Return to Tipasa.” Lyrical and Critical Essays, edited by Philip Thody, translated by Ellen Conroy Kennedy, Vintage Books, 1970, pp. 169–175.]