By "today" I don't mean the 24-hour period I'm currently experiencing. I mean the date. As far as I'm concerned, compared to the date ten days after it, the Ides of March is as pleasant and enjoyable as a champagne picnic with your true love on a deserted beach in June.
March 25, 1978: I lost six pints of blood from intestinal hemorrhaging. The reason I didn't die is because it was a slow hemorrhage and I didn't go into shock. Had that happened, I wouldn't be here now.
March 25, 2004: My dad had emergency open-heart surgery after having two heart attacks. Had he not had surgery, the next heart attack would have killed him.
March 25, 2010: My mom suffered the medical crisis that killed her 24 hours later.
Admittedly, some good things have happened on March 25--or at least one good thing. March 25, 1988: I first met Matt, my gay ex-fiance who remains one of my dearest friends. And there have been 40-odd March 25ths in my life where nothing especially memorable, either good or bad, happened.
But the fact that it's a date when I almost died, one parent almost died, and another parent began to die, is, to me, reason enough to feel fairly creeped out and weird each time it rolls around.
Tomorrow will probably suck more in certain ways, though I convinced a friend to hang with me for a while so I'm at least distracted a little from the fact that it's the first anniversary of my mom's death. Today my sister and I are going to spend some time together and do something so we're not just alone and freaked out all day. I also have a party to go to tonight, which I'm really ambivalent about--I don't want to stay home and fret, but I also worry that I won't feel especially social or cheerful.
I've been told it gets easier each passing year, but it's still weird, and there will always be dates at the end of March that just freak me the hell out.