There’s just been a lot I’ve wanted to tell you in the past few days. About random silly things. And serious and scary things. Things that a week ago I wouldn’t hesitate to say.
My grandmother turns 92 this weekend and we’re throwing her a surprise party. A fish fry. Like we used to have when I was little and the front yard was full of screaming kiddos. I wanted to tell you. Because I’m feeling nostalgic and oh so happy to sit cozily back down into a memory.
After we stopped talking I spent Wednesday afternoon peeling shrimp at my best friend’s house. For an hour it was just me and these gooey little shrimps standing in front of her kitchen window watching the sun go down. Watching so many pups walk by. Honestly it was relieving. It was nice to just breathe without thinking about reality. I wanted to tell you, but realized the reason I couldn’t was my own fault.
I finally found my office keys and you were the first person I wanted to tell. I shrieked with joy as I pulled them up out of their tricky hiding place. Because for months you’ve heard me say how I don’t lose things and that I can’t believe I lost the keys to my office.
Forrest has a new bed. We finally found one he likes. And he snoozes lazily in front of the window in my bedroom all day. Its incredible and I just know you’d get teary if you saw it. I really adored how much you loved dogs.
There’s more, of course. Things I know you’d love. You’d celebrate with me. You’d ask an intriguing follow up question or you’d look me dead in the eye and tell me exactly what you thought.
It’s odd how quickly someone becomes an integral part of life. It’s even more odd how quickly they fade away. How there is a boundary that once didn’t exist. A line of communication that we had to cut off at the quick.
Because even though they are gone. . . the books we both were reading. . . well, the plot lines are still thickening. And our parents are still saying silly things. New music is still being released and the people we love are still seeing miracles happen. Our journals still open to pages filled with each other’s names. Hard days still happen and the automatic reaction to dial a certain number doesn’t go away.
Will it ever go away? Reaching back for comfort. For a steady hand. The wondering if you made the right choice- does it ever go away?