Atomictumor

I love you, GAC.

Its been a long year, like we all knew it would be.  Like I told G, the next day was Saturday, and the day after that was Sunday, the world kept turning.  Birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, they all creeped on by, slowly at first, and then with the normal pace of life.

I tried like hell to reach you.  I went outside every night, and tried to force my mind through the veil of the meaty, physical world, into wherever you were.  I was so afraid that you needed me, that I had to help you through something, that you were all alone, afraid, sad, lost.  Sometimes I got through, like that first Sunday, when I was in the bathroom alone and heard you so clearly as we talked.  Remember?  That was when I asked you to look over your parents, told you that I’d be OK, and you did.

The strange coincidences involved in those situations, the kind of stuff that its so darn easy to believe as coincidences, or dismiss, seem so natural now.

I wish I knew where you were, and what you are doing.  PigpenJuicebox and I had a conversation on the way to school one day, and he suggested that maybe you have a special TV that watches us.  That’s cool.

Thanks for dancing with me in February.  I was down, honey, it was a hard day, but I felt you so clearly holding me, and telling me it was OK.  It lifted me up, and sent me another step forward to where I am today.

Thanks for being with the boys.  There were so many nights that I felt you rubbing their heads, as we said our nightly prayers (we started doing that after you died.  Ironic, huh?), looking after your sweet boys just like you did when you were here.  I know you walked every step with them, and you still do.   They honor you, those kids are amazing.  They manage to have your loyalty to friends, your open heart.  Sometimes, but just rarely, I see your face in them.  You know, tho, I’ve always sucked at telling who looks like who.

I found love again, like you figured I would.  I remember telling you that I couldn’t love anybody but you, and you said that’d be asinine, or something like that.  Those bedroom nighttime “what-if” conversations that I guess everybody has, turns out you were right again.  You’re a pretty smart cookie.

Its nice, because I get the feeling that she loves you too, in a way that I don’t understand.  She certainly isn’t bothered by you, and she’s gone to tears over what happened between you and I once or twice.  She loves me, and thats what you wanted.  More importantly, she loves our punk kids.  She’s a little nervous (and she’ll probably end up reading this, so this is kinda weird) stepping into such big shoes.  I’d tell her that her feet are bigger than yours, but I don’t think that’d help.

Its a testament to you, my little cookie.  You got your family off to an amazing start.  You picked me up, and taught me how to love.  You made me what I am today, and I’m very happy with what I am today.  You helped make those boys the amazing things they are.  They made it through this unscarred, full of the childhood enthusiasm and happiness, they’re not stunted, they’re not angry, and I think that’s because of who you were.  Sure, I guess I had a little bit to do with it, but thats probably because of how you molded me over those 10 years, baby.

You will always be honored and loved in my family, little girl.  You hold such a beautiful spot in my heart, and I will always love you with fervor and intensity.  The beauty of that is that I’ve learned that you can love two that way.

Still kinda wonder how the whole thing works when all three of us are dead, if its some kind of weird heaven love triangle or something, but I’ve been told by wise people that that sort of stuff works itself out, and I guess maybe you already understand how.

That reminds me, I’m envious in a way.  You KNOW.  All the questions, all the wondering, all the theoretical conversations and theories we had over the years about what happens after death, whether enlightenment, nothingness, or something in between, you’re already there.

You’ve convinced me that theres not nothingness, but in that dream I had where you were sitting on the end of the bed, talking to me, and I asked you “What is the secret?”, your smiled at me, turned your head, and left.  That was totally you, you punk girl.

You always liked keeping a good secret from me.

I love you.  Its been a good year, honey.  A hard one, a weird one, but a good one.

Nice talking to you.  Come visit anytime.