April 19

 

 

I know I should talk about other things, because honestly, my moment by moment daily life is mostly happy. However, even that comes back around to how much I miss Angelo. It's funny, since I didn't see him more often than once every 2 weeks or so, but he was in my thoughts so often that it felt like he was always with me. Now, I suppose he is. What I'm left with is an overwhelming urge to take care of my grandmother. Before Angelo died (and before his trip to the hospital) she and I spoke every other day depending on how busy I was, and saw each other a couple of times a month. When I went for long periods without seeing her, I'd miss her the way you'd miss a buddy you hadn't seen in a while. Now, I find myself calling her more than once a day, and making plans to do things with her at least once a week. It's not because I am afraid she will die, since honestly, I didn't expect for Ang to die when he did, but it's more that I feel a deep need to stay tethered to her, for her benefit as well as for mine.

I keep seeing people I haven't seen since he died, and when they tell me how sorry they are or when they ask me what happened, I feel myself biting back tears. Eventually, I will run out of people to tell, but I don't know that I want to stop telling the story. Not of his death, but of his life. Not of how he was there and then he was gone, but how he was always there, for my entire life, even when he was not there, he was there. Easter was the first holiday without him, and it was difficult. His space at the head of the table was so empty. I didn't need to cook foods I knew he'd be able to swallow easily (although I ended up doing that anyhow). My mom and grandmother didn't have to leave at any specific time, knowing that he had had enough and needed to get back to his room to sleep. It was a lovely day, all in all, and he would have really enjoyed it. Being at my house was always one thing that kept HIM tethered to the rest of us, because of the years of memories that even he could recall.

I forgot to mention that I read the ee cummings poem at the church during his funeral service, and up until that point I'd been tear-less. At the funeral home viewing his body for the last time. During the ride to the church. During the service, I was silent and emotionless, but as I got up before the church, in front of his flag draped coffin, I lost it. I read the poem sobbing. It was absolutely the most perfect eulogy I could have come up with. I always carry his heart within my heart, and I know I always will.

 

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