I have my first byline. My first paid byline, mom! It's in the online magazine Kveller. I think it is right--the name. That's what you would have been doing--you'd be kvelling.
Dad had his birthday and then, six days later was your anniversary.
It's a hard day.
For sixty-four years June nineteenth was a celebration of love. The kind of love that you had. The yell at each other, make up, hold hands for a while kind of love. The sleep in a chair by your love's hospital bed kind of love. That's what we celebrated every June Nineteenth. That's what my sister celebrated when she chose it as her wedding day.
Now, now it's a day where we try to act like we don't remember how you would do stuff. We made no mention of the fact that it was your anniversary when we celebrated father's day, and my sister's anniversary. No mention at all.
I didn't handle that part so well. Even though dad was with his new girlfriend, I had to talk about you. I had to remember you. We talked about you and baseball. How a client took you to the famous Don Larson Perfect Game. You came home sad and down because "No one hit anything. No one got a run. " We laughed. We missed you. I needed to remember.
I need to remember that your blood is still in my veins. Your heart still beats with my heart. I am here. I am here and since I am, you are still here.
When I am gone. When I am where you are, my blood does not flow through Lotus' veins. But my heart will still beat. I have given her my heart and yours too.
I miss you mom. Happy what would have been your 67th anniversary.