—“Do not go gentle into that good night. … Rage, rage against
the dying of the light.” –Dylan Thomas
DAY 1: it’s been 7 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days since the lights went out in my universe.
I’m afraid to go forward. I’m afraid to let go. The past hurts me.
There are things worst than death.
Living with a partial heart & soul is of them.
I carry this burden, this trauma, this deep loss…I carry it….
don’t know how to lay it down.
I have a sense people are sick of my bullshit, my lamenting, my screaming, my anger, my negativity, my loneliness, and mostly, mostly…
my lack of existing.
And the thing is….I don’t give a damn what they think. I don’t give a damn.
I am already with the people who love me.
DAY 2: Dreamed about Kay.
She was sitting in mom’s kitchen as she always had. Sitting in the wooden chair munching on Doritos or something like that.
When she saw me come in she nonchalantly remarked,
“Hey Kimmie. What’s up!”
I stood stunned. I stood staring.
“What are you doing here?” I squealed.
I ran up to her. I ran as fast as I could. I ran like a child running to her mother, her nurturer.
I began kissing her all over her face, her cheeks, her eyelids ….
Kissing. Kissing. Kissing.
She smelled of clean air…something that had been hung out to dry in spring.
That’s all I remember.
DAY 3: Jordan had a tattoo put on his back on Wednesday.
If I were 20, I’d do it too. Even 30. I’d have my angel someplace on my skin to see and touch everyday.
But not now…..not now.
For she is tattooed within my mind, my brain, my internal organs, my essence, my soul.
Eternally. Always. Forever.
DAY 4: I have another sister.
Her name is Tia.
She sat on the cold floor with me in the emergency room as I screamed and yelled and cursed the darkness.
Together— we sat with Kay for the last time stroking her hair, running our fingers over her skin, her eyebrows, her arms.
I remember spinning in circles uttering, “What should I do? What should I do? What the hell should I do?”
She held my hand as I gave the eulogy for the best friend I ever had. She grasped it fully and tightly as I tried to find my way to the podium, as I read ee cummings, as I stood there like half a human being.
She calls me everyday. She loves me everyday.
She listens without ceasing when I utter things like, “Why the hell am I still living? Why would God leave me here without Kay? Why can’t I be with her?”
And she makes me laugh when I want drown inside my own tears. She makes me laugh when I least expect it.
DAY 5: A little girl told me I look old today.
She walked up to me at school and said sweetly, “Mrs. Robinson, you look older than you did last year.”
8 months ago I would have lost sleep over that statement.
I would have made an appointment for Botox, dermabrasion, laser resurfacing, and a chemical peel.
I would have raced up to the Mall and bought Vitamin E and Hydroxyl Acids.
I would have called Kay and moaned, “I’m Old! I’m Ugly! And not only that, but I’m FAT!
And she would have retorted: “YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. YOU ARE AMAZING. YOU ARE CURVACEOUS LIKE SOPHIA LOREN.”
I didn’t care this time. It all seemed so superficial and plastic.
But I do know this: Crying, Unhappiness, and Loneliness makes one look OLD, OLD, OLD!
AND I DON”T GIVE A SHIT.
DAY 6: Watching American Idol was a bit of “Still Waters”
My god, Jenifer Lopez reminds me of Kay. Everybody told her that.
She never leaves me. Never. Never. Even in the midst of Still Waters.
DAY 7: Sanity and insanity are held together by a VERY thin thread.
Today I am somewhat sane, but it I let go…I mean, really let go—release all of it completely, entirely…let it flow into the river of reality…let it flow into my consciousness….let it flow into the universe….
our everyday existence without Kay, our futures without Kay, growing old without Kay, not being able to call her, love her, kiss her, hold her again on this earth…..