I must have known... 11041994

I must have known. 

I woke up that morning around 6 a.m. without the aid of the alarm clock.  My eyes flew open and I lay there.  It was quiet.  I reached over & turned off the alarm… turned off the telephone ringer… and just lay there.

After a few minutes, I got up & began my day.  It was a Friday; it was my 21^st birthday.

I labored over what to wear – even though I knew I wouldn’t really be going anywhere that day.  I picked out my favorite skirt & ironed it, then laid it out on my bed next to the sweater I’d wear with it.  On top of the outfit, I placed my underwear and tights.  I spent a few moments smoothing everything out on the bed, ignoring the blinking light on the answering machine.

It was 7:30 a.m.

I decided on a bubble bath, followed by an intense hair washing session.  My hair was long then, and relaxed, so I would need to follow up with a blow-dry (that would easily eat up an hour & a ½) and a long, laborious curling iron routine.  By my estimation, it would be noon before I was finished bathing & styling – I hadn’t even factored in time for meals.

Lunch – frozen pizza made in the microwave.

When it was all said & done, it was 2 p.m. and I watched As The World Turns before getting dressed. I didn’t check the messages on the answering machine.  

At this point I had no reason to linger & couldn’t find any other procrastination tools.  And so as I walked the 1 block between my building & his, I encountered schoolchildren skipping home – their little voices shrill & excited as they faced the weekend.  I should have been excited about the weekend too – it was my 21^st birthday.

They all stood when I entered.  My mother. My grandparents. Two of his best friends. 

And I knew.  He was gone.

I turned into the corner behind the entryway & began to wail.  They surrounded me – all of them.  It was similar to the way he had enveloped me in his long arms after telling me of Tia’s death.  And Alex’s death.  And I wanted him to envelope me this time too, because if he could, that would mean he was still here.

I pushed them all away & ran to his room.  The bed was made.  That had probably been my mother’s doing.  A simple cross lay on his pillow.  That was probably my grandparents.

“When?”

My mother stroked my back.  “Around 6 this morning.”

I must have known.
For my uncle & fairy godfather: QuiQue. I miss you & love you & still think of you everyday.

Just like a laser laser love...

Pretend that the only thing standing in between you & your next life-affirming breath was the blog post listed below...

Wait... WHAT smells like gravy?

Now, go read it.
And laugh. & then laugh some more.
And stop to turn around & clutch your stomach as you laugh. 
Then turn back to continue as you wipe happy laugh tears from your face.

Thanks to Jen Frase for this little piece of brilliance.