Saturday, January 30, 2010


It's here. Three years. Death today, birth tomorrow. This order of things is the reality of our everyday life, something that just is. But on the page like this, in one sentence, it seems kinda crazy, doesn't it?

I am here too. I expected, when I wrote that last post, that between then and now I would have a lot to say. And I did. I just didn't get to say much of it. Some of what it was I might try to say still. Most is gone, struggled through and dealt with, probably messier than if I'd had that chance to write at the time, but gone nonetheless.

We've been walking through significant dates here for a bit. Hebrew calendar moves around from year to year with respect to Gregorian, and this year, yahrtzeit, the Jewish anniversary, fell on this week. My sister and brother in law came over. We lit a yahrtzeit candle, had good food, and raised our glasses a couple of times. Monkey, reasoning that this is A's Jewish birthday, wanted to blow up some balloons. Surprisingly, there was enough air in an old (as in from her birthday last spring) helium tank to fill three and a half. She drew on them, writing his name in three languages, and drawing faces. She only popped one. After they are completely deflated, she wants me to put the smallest one, the one with just the face drawn on it, into the drawer whereI keep her A artwork.

We didn't go to the synagogue to say kaddish that evening, leaving that part for Friday night. So we did that yesterday.

We didn't really have much of a plan for the weekend. Making brownies, again, as per Monkey's request. That's tonight, soon. Going to the cemetery, that's tomorrow. I've had this vague idea that there should be good homemade food this weekend, and so I've made some. Unlike last year, our friends have been calling and emailing. One family asked to stop by today. We will see another tomorrow.

Like most of the week before, it's been a close to usual Saturday here, and, unlike last year, when the ordinariness was unbearable, I am ok with it. I miss him every day, every ordinary day. I miss him today too, and in this way, today is just another day.

I haven't cried yet today. But as the clock ticks towards the hour that is listed in my chart as the official time "it was confirmed," I feel the tears. They are starting to build. Not yet, but later. After the brownies are baked, and the candle is lit, and Monkey and the Cub are asleep. Unless, you know, they come before then, which, I am suddenly feeling like they might. I guess it's not all that ordinary after all.