Bunny is not a Phoenix

my daughter and i went out together, just the two of us, for supper last night. Olive Garden. it was nice. just the two of us. i wore my pendant as i always do when i leave the apartment. the waiter saw it and thought it was pretty. he then asked if anyone was joining us and my daughter said, "my husband is at night school." i touched my pendant and said, "my husband isn't here tonight."

we went out together because she works all weekend and knows how bad Tuesday was, and how bad Sunday will be. she’s upset that she cannot take off to be with me but that’s life. she works so hard and i put on a good face for her. “Sy Fy weekend horror movies, honey. sewing, quilting. i’ll be fine.”

but Sunday will be the last day of my personal week of this Powerful Omniscient One Year Milestone. i’m thinking of hosting it every year. i’ve learned things i knew and things i didn’t know. i’ve learned that i do not match anyone else’s journey.

i read and have been told that the anticipation of these milestones is sometimes far worse than getting through that day. my own year milestone for him, over him, whatever, has lived up to my imagination’s hype. instead of being worried over something that played out less than expected my mind was preparing me for what it knew my soul would feel.

it was rough. the echoes of that day, that week, the funeral on Valentine’s Day are in my head and try as i might, i cannot push them out. they are unconquerable right now so i’ve let them take over. maybe it’s supposed to be this way for me. maybe it's the healthiest way for me. i am such a sensitive person. i focused on sewing as i cried. i kept the television on with one ridiculous show after another, while i cried as i worked, but i was alone for the period of time when i most needed someone with me. some lives do not allow for what we need even if we try to make arrangements, but oh, what i would have given to have someone come sit with me. stay with me. hear me talk about him. he is such a lovely man.

i needed someone with me to talk to, to be with me, to talk about him to. i love him so very much. oh, God, it’s like a fire licking away at me. i burn with it. i love him and he’s not coming back. he’s gone and i break at the concept. how can i do this without him for another day much less another year?

i miss his touch. he was always touching me; my hand, the small of my back, my hair, my skin. he loved touching me and i loved being touched by him. my mother wasn’t affectionate. my first husband hated touching me. i think he’s a closet amoeba. if he could have reproduced alone, he would have. but my Dragon loved touching me and taught me that my body wasn’t abhorrent. he taught me how to make love and be loved.

snippets of songs run through my head whether the song pertains to my loss or not.

“give me a kiss before you leave and my imagination will feed my hungry heart. leave me one thing before we part, a kiss to build a dream on.” ~ Satchmo

“10,000 miles, my own true love, 10,000 miles or more. the rocks may melt an th seas may burn if i should not return.” ~ Mary Chapin Carpenter

“i’d rather be dreaming than living, living’s just too hard to do. it’s chances not choices, noises not voices, a day’s just a thing to get through, living’s just too hard to do.” ~ Loudon Wainwright

the night after my Dragon died, my children were with me. we were together sleeping in the same room. there was a radio in the next room, unplugged. never worked. we all woke to music. Sara McLachlan’s “Angel.” the exact part that was playing was the chorus.

“in the arms of the angels, fly away from here, from this dark cold hotel room and the endlessness that you fear. you are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie, you’re in the arms of the angel. may you find some comfort there.”

that’s the part that was playing when my son got it to stop. and by that i mean he set the radio in the middle of that room away from the wall because it still wasn’t plugged in. but it was the room where he died. it was the room of the door crashing open and the paramedics and police coming in to fail us both. we had all three heard it and we all wanted so much to believe it was a sign that he was "in the arms of the angels." i can’t listen to that song without sobbing.

i love him and i wish i could talk to him. i just want to see him once more. i want to see his eyes smile at me in love. i want to hold his hand and walk along the beach.

i want what that song says, ‘love will come and set me free.” ~ Brett Dennen

so as you can see i’m having a very rough time. for me, there has been no glimpss of sunlight. there has been no release from this since that moment his heart seized.

“cast me gently into morning for the night has been unkind. take me to a place so holy that i can wash this from my mind, the memory of choosing not to fight.” ~ Sarah McLachlan.

we drove away from the ocean after the funeral, after i put all the rocks and shells and sand dollars i’d collected back on the beach, right at twilight, at the water’s edge. i have all the ones he collected. only his. because I want only him.

we made it to New York before crashing at a motel. i have no idea what the desk clerk thought as i walked in carrying a black box of ashes and a folded American flag and a broken arrow. i don’t give a flying f*ck. it would have been dishonorable to leave the flag and the broken arrow and i was not leaving my Dragon alone in the truck. oh, God, the thought brings me to my knees. him alone in the dark. but he's not afraid of the dark and i love it because i can see Heaven better.

the next day when we saw the sign for the state line of where i am supposed to live now my daughter pointed out a cloud. the photo is below.

i had been crying thinking he would not know where i was when she pointed it out and said simply, “he knows, mom. he’s watching over you.” she went into this monolog about how he’s the Dragon and covert was his middle name and black was his favorite color. she said he knew where i was every moment he was alive and that it was a little scary how good he was at it. so of course he knows now that he’s really become a dragon and is flying about in Heaven.

so if you’re watching and listening, my love, i miss you. i love you. i want you. it will always be this way.

~~ the year has been hard. the anniversary has been awful. i’m his Beach Bunny, not some beautiful golden phoenix. i am not rising from the ashes, his ashes, “a new person with a new life filled with wonderful memories of his shining love to carry with me on my new adventure.” (someone actually wrote that and got it published.)

i’m not like anyone else. i’m like me. my life has been different than some. i had no loving childhood, no happy first 44 years of my life. my happy life didn’t start until i was 44 and my Dragon found me slinking from shadow to shadow trying to stay out of sight. i'm so very tired of living but living is all i'm left with. just living day to day. i’m doing what he and i talked about. Bunny will stay his bunny keeping his ashes close until i die. then our ashes can be blended and given to the ocean we both loved so very much.

as for Valentine’s Day? let it come. let it do it's worst. i’ve already drowned. i’ll look at the majesty of the rollers coming in from the bottom of the ocean.