I’m sitting here staring at a Fat Tire beer knowing that Mary should be here at the Brave’s ball game right now. She and Tony were invited to her friend John’s birthday party at the game tonight. She would have taken a half day off and gotten here just before they had to leave for the game. Then she would have spent tomorrow and the weekend with me or Julie and the kids. I can’t decide whether to drink the beer or not. Mary liked Blueberry beer.
I wish I could explain how comforting it is to write about her, to write her name, Mary, to see her in my minds eye waving at me. Here she is not gone, she is sitting beside me. She is around the corner or down the hall, playing down at the creek with the kids or teaching Cindy to cook.
This weekend Julie and the kids are moving in with us and Mary’s not here to help reorganize downstairs. She has much more common sense about things like that.
I have managed to keep Mary in a side pocket this week so I could finish my tasks at work. It has been hard and I am tired. Carrying two faces around, two personalities, splitting a heart in two pieces just to complete a day is beyond anything I’d ever thought I’d have to do. So this weekend I will go to my wailing wall and release what anguish I can. Two weeks from tomorrow would be their rehearsal dinner for their wedding. It’s like counting down the days till the volcano erupts.
I still have to take her things out of the boxes we put them in. I just stare at them.
Just finished my 22oz beer. Cried, laughed, sighed, and am pretty much incoherent right now. I can hear Mary saying "oh, momma, go to bed".
Tomorrow is Danny's check up. His weight's up a little so we'll see what happens.
Little Bit of Mary
Everybody wants a little bit of Mary, something to remember her by.
Something they can cling to, more than just a memory,
Something that’s a part of her life.
Everybody wants a little bit of Mary, to carry with us where ever we go
Her blanket to wrap up in, her shirt to wrap around us,
A letter where she wrote “I love you”.
She touched us all in so many ways
Hearts unfolded under her gaze
Everybody wants a little bit of Mary, to share with the people we meet.
A cookbook with her fingerprints, her long dangly earrings,
A hat that she crocheted for wintertime.
But her rings and her shoes and her music and hats
Won’t be enough for a lifetime to last.
Our hearts must encompass the love that she spread
Stitching our souls with an unending gold thread.
Everybody wants a little bit of Mary, she already has a little bit of us.
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