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 21st
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 21st 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.
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