Letters to Sir

Someone once told me that talking to me was like having 3 different conversations at the same time.

Hard to keep up

Hard to follow

I’d just laugh

When that person is gone, it’s those moments you miss the most.

I remember the crease between his eyebrows when he was deep in thought.

I remember the uncertainty in his voice when he would confirm we were, in fact, picking back up a conversation we had dropped 30 minutes before.

It’s not that I’m having multiple conversations.

It’s just I forget that people can’t see what’s going on in my mind as it’s happening.

That I’m not live streaming my thoughts.

That I’m not a movie.

I wish I was.

I wish every day that I was a character in a film

That at the end of the scene, I’d hear ‘CUT’

I could leave behind their story

I get to pick back up my happily ever after.

I can go back to being Christan

Matt’s still alive

And my world isn’t buried 6 feet down

***********************************************************************

“If you leave, He’ll leave.”

“That’s not true, Sheila. He doesn’t have to move out with me.”

“But he will. You can’t take care of yourself and he’ll think that he has to.”

I’m sitting with Matt’s mom in her she-shed-in-the-house.

I want to pursue custody of my daughter.

It’s her home.

I want to be respectful so I’m letting her know my plans.

If she wants no part of it, I’ll move out.

I don’t want problems.

“I can take care of myself. I can move out, right now. I just can’t start this process and then you backout on me. Justus is the most important. I’d completely understand you not wanting to take this on.”

“If you leave, He’ll leave.”

***********************************************************************

“Do you know the words to La Bamba?”

“No.”

“I do.”

I sing it.

I don’t really know the words

I make them up as I go

I think as long as I start the next line how I ended the one before it, no one will know

He knows. He always knows.

“That’s not ‘La Bamba’,” he says, chuckling.

“You said you didn’t know it so how do you know?”

“Because I know.”

I laugh

“Whatever.”

***********************************************************************

We sit back from the party

It’s midsummer.

It’s my first one as an adult.

It’s my first one sharing it with someone

We’re the only two people that haven’t been drinking

He brought a tandem chair.

Two seats in one.

We’re wrapped around each other

It’s been a good day.

Someone brings out a guitar and starts strumming

We immediately look at each other when we hear the chords for ‘La Bamba.’

I shrug, “Everyone knows it ain’t a party til someone pulls out a guitar and starts playing ‘La Bamba’.

We laugh so hard. And then I lay my head on his shoulder

***********************************************************************

“Would you?”

“Would I what?”

I turn to look at him.

“If you could know when you were going to die, would you want to know?”

We’ve come to a red light. He finally turns to me.

He simply says, ‘No.’

“I would. But not for me. I’d want to know so that I could prepare all the people I’m leaving behind so they don’t hurt so bad.”

We’re on our way to Ohio for my Grandmas funeral. She died July 1st. It was our anniversary.

He reaches for my hand.

“You got me, Babe. Everything is going to be fine. I’ll get you through this.”

The light turns green and he lets my hand go.

***********************************************************************

I hear his house shoes shuffling down the hallway.

I wipe the tears from my eyes.

I didn’t cry until we had left Ohio.

I tried to be strong.

I tried to make sense of what I was thinking and feeling.

About what I was actually grieving for.

He comes in and he knows. He always knows.

He stands there in his boxers and a white t-shirt, hands clasped in front of him.

“Can I lay with you?”

I can only nod.

I feel him climb in and scoot closer.

He lifts his arm and I slide in to lay my head on his chest.

It’s his favorite thing.

“I hope I die before you do," I say.

“Why is that?”

“Because I don’t think I’d be able to bury you. I don’t think I’d make it. I love you so much.”

I start to cry again.

This time he says nothing.

Just pulls me closer.

***********************************************************************

“Do you know what Darla said to me today?”

I look up at him.

He’s just came in from work

“What did she say, Sir?”

He’s beaming.

“She said I look like a Bad Ass!”

He started growing a beard for me.

He was worried about the grey but I told him salt and pepper is a thing now.

Women dig it.

It’s his first beard he’s ever grown.

Neither one of us knows how to groom it.

I bought him a kit. (He died before he could use it.)

I smile at him.

“Its cause you ARE a bad ass, Sir.”

He laughs and waves me off but I know it makes him feel good.

He is a ‘Bad Ass’.

Not because he’s a thug and fucks shit up.

It’s because he’s kind, gentle, loving.

He’s the first MAN, I’ve ever known.

And now he’s gone.

***********************************************************************

“They let me see him.”

The paramedics told me neither of us could come to the hospital.

She went anyway.

She said they told her she could come in.

She called me from the parking lot

“They won’t let me in.”

I already knew that was going to happen.

She comes home

“They let me see him. They snuck me back there.”

I don’t care who goes back. I just wanted someone to be able to be with him.

“How was he,” I ask.

“He lifted both his hands and feet for a count of 10.”

That’s good. He’s going to be okay.

Everything is going to be okay

But she’s a liar.

I didn’t know that then

***********************************************************************

Sheila finally gives me alone time with him

He’s on the ventilator

They say that the last thing to go is the hearing

When they tell me that all I can think is that that’s also the last thing you get

I’m weird

I bring a scratch off with me

We scratch it off together

We lose but I expected that

The machine breathes for or with him, who knows

I suspect mostly for him

He’s going brain dead

1…6…1…6…1…6…1

That’s when he breathes

I put my phone up by his ear

I brush his hair back

I kiss his forehead

I tell him that I love him

I play ‘La Bamba’

1…3…6…1…3…6…1…3…6

He heard me

***********************************************************************

“I was thinking he could wear that shirt you got him.”

I don’t say anything. Just stare in my lap

“You know, the pink one.”

I know which one.

We got it at Meijer.

He was unsure about wearing pink

I convinced him it was a thing

“He strutted in while I was watching tv showing himself off. He really liked that shirt.”

Why are we doing this?

Why are we picking his clothes out?

He’s not even dead

I want to scream, “He’s still alive!”

Instead I ask what kind of shoes were we going to have him wear

“He doesn’t need shoes. No one is going to see his feet.”

I feel stupid

***********************************************************************

There's an Echo

Nobody told me about the Echo

They unhook him from the ventilator. They turn off the alarms.

I can't do this

I don't want to do this

He needs me to do this

He needs me to stay.

I think he dies immediately

Without the ventilator, his chest doesn't rise

I hold him

I watch him start to turn purple because of lack of oxygen

He's not going to die

God is going to save him

God isn't going to take the best thing to happen to me

He's not going to bring me back from the depths of hell to take the one thing that gave me the courage to persevere

His heart rate is at 25

And something changes

I watch his face turn pink

I know he's fighting

I know that he's coming back to me

But that wasn't what was happening

I had just watched him die

And I never even knew it

They should've told us about the Echo

How could he leave me?

***********************************************************************

“I need this pitcher. I’m going to make some tea for when people come back to the house after the services.”

I want to grab her hand. I want to make her put the pitcher down. It has the tea he just made in it.

He never taught me how to make his tea.

Now he’s dead. I’ll never know how to make it.

He’ll never make it for me again. Its priceless.

I want to grab her hand. I want to make her put the pitcher down.

I just watch her pour the tea in the sink.

Listen to it go down the drain.

And know that I just lost another piece of him I’ll never be able to get back.

***********************************************************************

It’s awkward.

We’re sitting across from each other

My mom and sister had no couth about it. It was obvious when they left us in the room together

“Christan, I don’t know what to tell you but it takes time…”

“I know, Dad.”

I’m pacing.

Sit down, get back up, move some stuff around.

Got to keep moving so I don’t think.

Or maybe I am thinking and it’s just not good and that’s why I’m moving.

“When I thought I was going to die…what I’m trying to say is…Oh, I’m getting this pain in my shoulder.”

I look over at him.

I’ve never had a heart attack but I’ve had plenty of panic attacks.

I know what’s happening to him. He’s panicking.

I ask him where it hurts. He shows me. I push on it to make sure.

“Right here,” I ask.

He nods and winces at the same time. I chuckle.

“Its not your heart, Dad. Your having a panic attack. We don’t do this. Your trying to have a Daddy-Daughter moment and it’s giving you anxiety.”

***********************************************************************

“I know you!”

I look up

She reminds me of Merida from Brave

But she’s Melloney

Matts sister.

We’ve hardly ever spoken

Matt would tell me stories about who she used to be

I never believed him

Now I know he told the truth

The Melloney he told me about is the one who’s standing in front of me

She’s beautiful and happy

Not aloof and quiet

We pay to get in

We separate

She comes to me later while I’m shooting pool

“I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

I don’t know what to say to her

And then we hear it

“Spirit in the Sky’ starts to play

I know our expressions mirror each other’s

“I know”, she says. “It’s been happening a lot lately”

He’s here with us.

**********************************************************************

There was a crazy lady where I grew up.

We called her ‘Crazy Mary’.

She had baby shoes and toys hung in the tree in the front yard.

We would make up stories about what happened to make her crazy.

She’d cuss and yell at you if you got near her.

I remember laughing at her.

I remember instigating her to yell and cuss.

I remember that I was a dick.

I think I know what happened to her now.

I think the tree is a shrine.

I’ve become ‘Crazy Mary.’

***********************************************************************

I think I’m turning into ‘Rain Man.’

Definitely

Definitely, Rain Man.

I started doing weird shit

I was always weird

But this is something different

I’m evolving

Maybe I’m devolving

Tap, tap my fingers when I start to lose it

I’m walking and I see a white van

Then I tap, tap

My heart is breaking

I want it to be him

Now I just keep my head down

I don’t want people to think I’m crazy

Spent my whole life trying to be a part of something

Now I’m losing everything

And I’m not even being bad

Definitely

Definitely, losing it

***********************************************************************

When I stood in the store and I could feel the attack coming on, I prayed.

“Papa…Papa…please help me.”

I used every technique I could think of.

Couldn’t stop it

Ran out of the store

He’s dead

Gotta buy for one now

He loved this

He loved that

I started crying

But it wasn’t a regular cry

It was one of the ones that you keen

It reaches something inside you

Maybe if you pulled that something out it would be your soul

I cried from my soul

I sat down

She came to me from across the parking lot

She sat down

“Why are you crying?”

“He’s dead.”

“Who is?”

“My fiancé’.”

“Just now?”

I shake my head no. “Almost 3 months ago but I just realized it.”

I know I look crazy

Maybe I am

I don’t know what’s happening inside me

“I was on the phone with my sister when I seen you”

She had pulled over

Her nephew died that morning

He died like Matt

We talk

She calms me

We laugh

I cry

I don’t look at her much

I feel ashamed

Maybe she cried

“You should write all these things down. It could help someone.”

She doesn’t know I already am

She doesn’t know that she confirmed what I’m doing

Maybe she does

Maybe Papa sent me an angel

I realize I’ve not even told her my name

“Hi, I’m Christan.”

I extend my hand

She chuckles

“Hi, I’m Sheila.”

I laugh so hard

Definitely

Definitely, Rain Man

***********************************************************************

“What are you doing?”

I reach into the cabinet for a can of beans.

“I’m reorganizing my cabinets.”

At the back of the cabinet is a can of ‘Chili Mac’.

Matt bought it a couple months before he died. It was his favorite.

I start to reach for it. Change my mind and hide it behind a can of ‘Corned Beef Hash’.

I feel the burning in my eyes and close them tight.

I walk into the living room and pick up the scarf I’m working on for a Christmas present. I start crocheting , bobbing to my music.

“What are you doing,” he asks again.

“I’m crocheting a scarf for someone for Christmas.”

I look at the crochet hook I’m using. Matt bought it for me for Christmas last year.

The burning in my eyes comes quicker and hotter than before.

I sit my crochet project down and walk to my plants.

My sunflowers sprouted a couple days ago and my forget me not’s started sprouting yesterday.

I’m so happy to see my seedlings grow.

“What are you doing now,” I hear from behind me.

I turn around.

“I’m carrying on.”

I can feel the heat of my tears. This time I let them fall.

***********************************************************************

AUTHORS NOTE: The story that I depicted here is 100% true. I tried to go with the simple approach and keep the memories I had generic enough for others to relate to while still holding onto personal aspects. I have more entries but this is my first submission on the site so I edited. I am a walking miracle and I mean it when I say I've been to the depths of hell and back My fiancé died unexpectedly from a stroke two weeks after my grandma died during a global pandemic. There were times I was positive that I was losing my mind. I can attest that the only thing worse than grieving a lost loved one is wondering if your mind has finally broken. Our minds are a very powerful thing. I wanted to give hope and encouragement, when I had none, and maybe help someone else get through something I'm still in the process of doing myself. This is a work in progress...I hope that anyone that reads this, will take the time to give me honest feedback and some positive encouragement to continue what I think could be life changing for others experiencing a loss like this, especially to know they are not alone. GOD BLESS!

I wonder what they think we they see me walking

I always walk listening to music

But they can’t see my earbuds

They just see me, moving, with passion

Singing and letting out the steam of what’s boiling inside of me

I’m listening to ‘All time low’ by Jon Bellion

I’m listening to ‘Weak’ by AJR

I’m listening to ‘Outnumbered’ by Dermot Kennedy

I’m jamming

I’m feeling something other than what’s festering inside of me

Letting steam out of this boiling pot

Do they think I’m weird to shake the branch’s?

To lift my face to the shower

To feel the droplets hit my face

To have something in that moment

Other than my loss

My void

My emptiness

I wonder if they think, ‘I bet she lost someone’.

‘I bet her whole world collapsed’

‘I bet she is trying to find herself again’.

I know they think I’m on drugs

I know they think I’m crazy

I’ve become ‘Crazy Mary’.