dilemma of epic proportions.

The anniversary of the day that she passed away is soon approaching. I don't want it to. I'd like it to be May forever and ever. I'd rather not have the calendar flip over to June 1st, because then... that's it. I can tick off another year in my head. Another year without her. Another year of feeling lost and sad and longing for something that I can never, ever have.

May 31st is the day that one of my oldest, dearest friends is getting married. This day is so important to her. It's important for me to see it happen. It's important for me to consciously take steps to maintaining our friendship, even though it's no longer so convenient to see each other. I'm supposed to sit at a table by the door and instruct all of her guests to sign ceramic platters so that she can get them glossed and kiln-fired and will remember forever who came to her special day every time she puts out appetizers or carves a turkey.

Now the memorial get-together for Tanya has been scheduled a day early; not on the June 1st that I'd booked my entire life off of, but on May 31st, when I'm supposed to be helping Christy get married to her high school sweetheart. And I'll be miserable, the whole time. As if her wedding being on the eve of the worst day of my life wasn't bad enough, I'll now be sitting at a table by the door fighting back tears for the memorial that I can't go to, for Tanya's family members that I won't see. For not being able to look out at the pasture with all of those special, loved people, and feel connected to her.

The literary juxtaposition of the whole dilemma is just too much. Celebration and mourning, all at once?

My stomach is in knots and I don't know what to do. The wedding starts at one o'clock; the get-together starts at two.