I am wearing a mask and gloves this morning and I am cleaning out my studio and my bedroom and there is this flashing of your face and the touch of your hand, so hot with fever. It catches my breath and my heart begins to beat a bit harder and I feel the familiar ache and the sudden bowing of my head. I miss you Dad. I can’t describe life without you. In four short months the world has gone completely crazy. I wrestled with God after you died, because I couldn’t bear the pain at first and honestly there were moments when I didn’t want to be here without you. Then I would see something really beautiful, like a sunrise (I didn’t sleep much at first) and I would see Lily running full on in the snow and Joe looking sad and I would think, I need to be here because I still have work to do. I would then get through another day, one heavy laden day after another and sometimes I would think I am getting Dementia (Glasses on my head, bills not paid, hair not combed) but the hospice grief therapist assured me that was perfectly normal to feel completely fractured. Christmas came and went and I don’t remember much about it except I cried every day and felt like I was having an out of body experience. We were in a KOA camp, in an RV with no running water and we had a Christmas eve bonfire with a couple of young kids who managed the camp. I gave her a snow globe which made her cry and I held her (she seemed so lost and clung to me like a small child, when in fact she was in her 20’s and I thought this is so surreal, me comforting her when I don’t seem to have an ounce of energy left in my body) But I managed to sit with her for about an hour before I excused myself and went to bed and cried myself to sleep. Then the new year came and I don’t remember that either. I had strange dreams and no appetite and my clothes started to hang off my bones and I thought “Who is that?” when I looked into the tiny mirror in the RV. Old and oh so tired. Then the day came when we had to officially say goodbye and it had been a month since you died and so I said yes to the church you adored and gave your life to and I sat in the balcony with my close friends who came to say goodbye to you and support me. They clustered around me and held me and I felt loved for the first time since you left. I was surrounded by hearts that were there for me and worried I might not be okay. That day I came into my body a little bit. The following day we drove to the Military cemetary where Joe and I sat in the front row and a gun salute was shot from the men in uniform and though I was warned it would be loud I jumped so high and my heart slammed in my chest anyway. I got up and spoke about you and cried a bit and watched the faces of the family and friends gathered and then I was in an eatery with cousins and your sister and we had some smiles and some tears and then it was time to go back to your apartment and face plant on the same bed you passed away in and cry until I thought I might die. Joey was a gift to me as he just sort of stayed behind me and if I looked too clutchy and pale, he would hold me for just long enough for me to stop crying. I was thankful. We started very soon after you passed to dismantle your life. You had shown me how to do the loss of your most beloved when Mom passed and you got rid of her stuff right away. I understand now why that works. For life to go on, you have to move it out. At least I did. I put your watch on my wrist and felt once again like a kid playing grown-up. The day we laid you to rest a very dear friend Marilou,( you loved her too) actually loaned me the money to buy a house. We moved your stuff out and put your home on the market and then moved into our new house and we had just moved in when the water main broke and then the scorpions came and stray animals and no propane delivery for 3 weeks and we (I) felt like a straight jacket might be in order and no sleep came and just when we got all of that settled, the pandemic came. Yes, Dad, a pandemic. One that closed the whole world in large measure. (Much like the heart pandemic I have had since you’ve been gone) You would have been amazed at how quickly our whole world turned upside down. I know I would have brought you up to Quarantine with us and we would be watching the views together and laughing and crying and talking about the unspeakable together. I know I would have worried about you and you would have worried about me. I just miss you so much. I can’t believe the changes. That said Bernie Saunders just dropped out of the race, and your favorite Elizabeth Warren did too. We would be praying together and pondering everything that has transpired and talking about death (which was our way after everyone died in our family but you and I) Now it’s just me. I remember you saying about a year ago how crowded heaven must be. That billions of people had passed over and how huge it must be. I think about that and today I thought about you..in heaven 4 months now with Jesus. Wow, fishing I hope…this summer I will go to the river and spread your ashes. If the pandemic hasn’t wiped out everything. I don’t think it will, I do think there is work for me to do. That something beautiful is coming, with the ashes and the river. I just miss you.
The Keeper Of Me 