When my father died.
The shock was so great. It was so deep and raw that I turned my face away from it and instead focused my eyes on my mother. And her pain.
I barely cried.
I did gasp and bend and wrap my arms about myself. The pains of it was physical. An ache the I couldn't rub out.
I remember calmly discussing things with my mom. This is the way we both are. No time for anything else. Lets focus on what needs to be done....and do it.
Let's figure out the steps that need to be taken...and take them.
I held on tight to my moms voice. Forcing calmness inside my own. I figured that if I was calm then she would be as well. I'm almost sure that she was focusing on the very same thing.
I insisted on calling the family. I needed to spare her the grief of others. The tears and the sobs that bound over the line and enter into your heart becoming your own. Compounding it. Thickening it.
I needed to do this for her.
Three phone calls later found me on the floor of my bathroom, hunched over with the phone to my ear.
Grief. Is a powerful thing.
Grief. Is an emotion that the heart simply cannot stand to feel.
It torments us. It rips at you and smiles while it does it.
5 months later. I stand over my Fathers headstone.
Towering over it. Casting the shadows of my body upon his name.
Above me the sun and below me dirt.
The wind is fierce and warm. Which is nice. Very nice.
It picks at my skirts and plays with the hem. Swirling it around my body. It tickles my ankles and kisses my toes.
This warm wind plays with me. It seems to be a million hugs afloat. Flying and whirling and smiling. Trying to find just the right person to land on.
I am assaulted by warm windy hugs. Spirits at play. light and laughter.
In my hand is a plastic bag. The wind kicks at it and it goes flying out of my hands.
"Oh no." I watch the bag and the wrappers inside tumble over headstones and hop over rocks.
I take off after them.
It seems to me as soon as I get to one of the shiny purple wrappers...the wind blows it further out of my reach.
I run. I stop. I bend. It blows. I giggle. I run.
I am focused on these wrappers. Scattering. A small smile plays on my lips.
I hear behind me. "Laurieeeeeeeeeeeeeee leave it go. Well get em later"
But I still giggle and run. I hope over headstones and saying "oop sorry" to the ones I tripped over.
"Laurieeeeeeee! What is that girl doing!" I can hear my aunt. There is a smile in her voice.
I stop. And the bag stops as well.
I am out of breath. I lift my face to the sun and I laugh. My breath blowing out of me.
The wind picks up my pony tail and blows it over my cheeks like smiling kisses.
I look back and the wrappers are gone. Blown to who knows where. Out of my sight.
As I walk back to my family the sun is warm and the wind has died down a bit. I do believe that it has found the right person to land on.
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