It's your birthday, again. Except that it's not anymore. 'Happy Birthday', I think, but it's not really happy either, is it?
I texted your father to invite him to lunch - somewhere at a beach, or maybe that place with the snails near Girona - but he is offline, too.
It's hot again, another scorcher, and your daughter got up late (teenagers!) and I can't decide where to go, what to do. You always drove to those funky places out in the middle of nowhere; I've only found one again, and it was closed, shuttered up, abandoned.
What might we have done to celebrate your birthday? Maybe we would have gone to France, where your daughter wants to go to practice her French. But where, how? I haven't got the wherewithal to take her.
Remember how much our French sucked in Carcassonne? How the waiter spoke Spanish anyway so it really didn't matter? How we visited Machado's grave, saw all the bits of poetry and small tragedies people had left there, and thought how sad to be buried with your mother?
If I had let him, your father would have stuck your ashes in with your mother, in with her parents, in that pantheon to too little too late. One thing I do know is how much you don't belong there.
Where you belong is here.
Here, where I remain unable to grasp the idea of the world without you in it. Grief? Oh, yes, grief is a process - I learned that the hard way - and I've done all that, but this world still refuses to make sense without you.
So your birthday is still your birthday. We are going to find a cool, quiet place and order a meal you would have liked, and I will remember a new anecdote to relate. (I'm afraid that this year your daughter will roll her eyes. Teenagers!)
We might split one of those ice cream desserts you used to love. Because today will always be your birthday.
1 - 4 - 3
http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/
GRASP (verb) 3 : to lay hold of with the mind : comprehend
'13 Untitled (Sally) 51,668;
'12 Barcelona Clash 51,878;
'11 Mojo Madness 52,793;
'10 Changing Directions 53,400;
'09 Daybreak 56,565;
'08 Vacant 52,486
I cried... thinking about you today. Cyndi
ReplyDeleteSorry for the tears. Thanks Cyndi. For thinking, and for reading! Miss you <3
DeleteSad and beautiful at the same time!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Gabriella!
DeleteKymm, this is so poignant and beautiful and heartbreaking.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Linda! < 3
DeleteThis is a killer! This is one of the best pieces of writing I've read that deals with loss of spouse. Your work is magnificent and I am grateful for having had the chance to read it. Hard not to well up in response. :(
ReplyDeleteSo nice of you to say, Tom!
DeleteThank you for your words, and I'm glad it spoke to you.
This was definitely one from the heart. < 3
Such a tender tribute, heartbreaking and honest.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Tara!
DeleteThis gave me goosebumps. Even though someone passes and is no longer here with us, they never really go away.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Janna! Some stay longer and closer than others...
DeleteI like that the daughter and father-in-law are a connection to her. Or to be more precise, the three characters in this story seem to be primarily bound together by his wife, and now they are what remains after she is gone. I think you brought that out vividly and subtly at the same time!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your comments. I love that your read this as "her". Thank you for stopping here, 24!
DeleteOh wow, Kymm. This is heartbreaking and wonderful at the same time. Some of your turns of phrase are just heart-stopping. A lovely, lovely tribute. You've got my vote. Thanks for linking up. Don't forget to come back and vote.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Tri! I promise to be a better Trifectan before the month is over!
DeleteBeautiful. A wonderful evocation of love.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Sarah!
DeleteI'm glad s/he has decided not to mourn in silence, but to find a way to remember and to celebrate.
ReplyDeleteOh, but the mourning is still silent.
DeleteThank you for your sweet words, Jody!
That's just beautiful. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Annabelle!
DeleteI was so heartbreakingly surprised by this piece. you set it up from the beginning, but it was still incredible where you took it. This is exactly what grief is. Always remembering, never forgetting.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely thing to say! Thanks so much for your words, Tylia, and for never forgetting.
DeleteThis is what I take from this, Kymm, as my own tears are falling. A love that will last-always, and forever. What a stunningly beautiful tribute you've written.
ReplyDeleteTake what you will, Valerie, and leave your tears freely : ) Thank you so much for your beautiful comments, always!
DeleteOh Kymm, this is stunning work. You've nailed grief beautifully and heart-wrenchingly.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Suzanne! You are always so kind. (I feel like I've stunned, nailed and wrenched you... lol Sorry!)
DeleteThere is sadness, but I think there's also a hint of acceptance in this and it's a nice touch.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Draug. There's definitely acceptance (finally!)
DeleteBeautiful, Kymm. So sad, but optimistic in a way.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Christine! Yes, I meant for optimism to be poking up from the bottom of it all...
DeleteVery lovely.
ReplyDeleteWe talk to our loved ones who are gone, and we wish them happy birthday, and we have conversations we might have had across the kitchen table. You've captured that deep loss and need for normalcy, so beautifully and realistically.
Thanks so much, Joanne! We watch for messages in the clouds... Wonder if that butterfly might be them...
DeleteThis is just so wonderful. I'm all choked up. Lovely writing.
ReplyDeleteWow, thank you, lumdog! Sorry for the choking, though...
Delete