It’s on the table.
You can do this. We can do this. We talked about all of this last night, in detail, so right now we’re going to do exactly what we planned. Start with the suits, hangers and all, and set them in the first box, as is.
Oh God, E! I’m crying so hard I can’t see!
Here’s a tissue, babe. Take it so you can see.
I look over at the table he made me put in here last night and sure enough, there’s a tissue lying next to the box. It really is like he’s in here with me. I can feel his presence. I feel stronger, and suddenly I know everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. I can do this.
Thank you for the tissue. I can do this. You being here helps.
I’m here for you. Always! Now grab the suits and put them in the box. Let me know when you’re done.
K.
I grab the first suit, my favorite. Even though I can’t smell him anymore, I can still feel him, and all the times I held him in my arms while he was wearing this suit. I close my eyes and remember the last time he wore it.
“You know that’s my favorite suit, Scottie.”
“That’s why I wear it.”
“Actually, I changed my mind.”
“You did?”
“Yep! Your birthday suit is my favorite.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll change immediately when I get home from my appointment.”
We never did make it to dinner that night.
I know you’re thinking about him. I can feel it and it’s okay. You’re doing great, Dee! Give me a hug.
To ground myself, I open my arms, hold them in the space in front of me where E would be if he were here. I close my eyes, wrap my arms around myself, and squeeze. I can feel my E with me.
Thanks for the hug. I’m going to grab his pants now.
Take your time, sweetheart. You can do this. There’s no rush.
E’s right. I can do this! With him beside me, I can. So with renewed determination, I get to work, remembering something from each piece of clothing I put in the boxes.
There, they’re in the box.
For the next few hours I pack up the rest of the closet, his drawers, and the toiletries I never had the heart to move. I also pack up all his personal things scattered around the house and throw away all his favorite foods. The ones I keep buying and tossing when they rot or expire. It was hard but E helped me through it. I cried, he made me laugh. I reminisced, he listened.
I need a drink.
I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You deserve one. Take my hand, let’s get you that drink.
Hand in hand, we walk into the kitchen. With the first shot poured, E makes a toast.
To moving forward!
I hold out my shot, repeat his toast and let the clear liquid slide down my throat. The burn from the tequila is a welcome relief. God, I needed it.
Another?
Abso-fucking-lutely!
E makes me eat the food we prepared the night before and we both take our sandwiches outside so we can enjoy the sun together. I look over at Ian’s house. I haven’t seen him in a while and I have no plans to see him anytime soon. What I’m going through is too hard and way too personal; I need E, not Ian. He’s become a good friend and I hope one day he’ll eventually understand the reason for my absence.
I also feel at peace. E kept telling me how proud he was of me and that he knew I could do it. His support made all the difference and I know he’s close—I can feel him.
By late afternoon I was completely done, both mentally and physically. All the boxes are taped and set out in the garage. Eventually I’ll bring them to the Salvation Army, but for now, I’m leaving them in my garage.
Later, we decide to watch a movie together and fire up Netflix. He jokes about wanting to watch a movie like A Nightmare on Elm Street, he then follows with Ghostbusters. He thinks he’s so funny. I know he’s joking so I hit back with The Notebook, just to see what he says. After he begs me to keep his balls intact, we settled on Money Pit, a true classic. He’s never seen it, much to my surprise, since it is right up his alley. He ends up loving it and we laugh and joke through the entire movie.
After the credits roll, we spend the rest of the night talking, laughing, and drinking. Drunk texting is hysterical! The later it gets, the drunker we become. The gaps in time between the texts say it all. Autocorrect has a field day. How we even understand each other is a miracle, but we stay with it, texting back and forth until I fall asleep with my special phone in my hand.
E’s packing up his house next weekend. I know it’s going to be brutal for him but I’ll be by his side, just like he was for me.
LAST WEEKEND WE PACKED UP all of Dee’s husband’s things. She needed me there with her and it killed me not being able to comfort her the way she deserved to be comforted. Still, I know that I achieved just that, albeit virtually.
Dee knows I haven’t stepped foot in my old house since I moved out just after she left to go back to her childhood home and I’m a basket case. We decided we were only going to pack up my wife and son’s personal belongings and that I’d leave the rest to a moving company. She wanted to plan the whole thing out like we did for her husband’s things but there was no way I was going to spend a minute longer in that place than absolutely necessary. Get in, throw everything in the closest box, and get out. And that’s exactly what I told her.
Fuck that! There is no way in hell I’m doing this twice.
It takes us over an hour just to get me over there and through the front door. I had to stop at the entrance to the alley because the memories that assaulted me had me paralyzed. The highlight reel of my life began to play in an endless loop. I taught Alex how to ride a bike in this alley, his delight as fresh as if it were happening at that moment. But it went deeper than that. Teaching him how to walk, then run and climb. Indian guides, T-ball, holidays, birthdays, and, of course, karate. Watching him experiencing new things for the first time. Seeing things through his eyes. The pride in the little things and the sheer joy in the bigger ones. The beauty in this world was extinguished when he took his last breath and the pain of not being able to comfort him… And then there are the dreams and hopes, the future he’ll never have. And it hurts…so fucking much!
How am I supposed to live without them?
I also couldn’t park in the garage. I opened it but quickly pushed the button to close the door. I remember seeing it empty after the accident and that feeling of emptiness almost had me turning around. Dee helped me. Dee always helps me. She flooded my phone with stupid GIFs, funny quotes, and silly memes.
Once I finally make it inside, she has me sit on the couch, not the floor like I want to. Old habits die hard. I have my bottle of Johnnie Walker and I know she has her bottle of Patron. After she has me drag in several boxes, we each have three shots before she makes me stop. She tells me she won’t be able to help me if we get too drunk and even though I don’t want to stop drinking, I do. I quickly set up the boxes and sneak in an extra shot, straight from the bottle because it’s times like this when the glass is just pointless.
Dee then has me set up my phone to text with voice command. Like she did last weekend. She uses every distraction she can dream up. Her support and all our playful exchanges help me gather the strength I need to move forward.
Okay, babe. I’m right next to you. Let’s do this. Take my hand. Close yours around it, just like we did last weekend. Feel me, E. Breathe me!
Okay.
We finally move, but when we get to my old bedroom, I freeze and stop texting. I know Dee can feel me completely shutting down and is probably picturing me running out of the house without packing up a single thing. I know it’s not what she wants me to do and I don’t want to let her down. I also know it has to be done.
I can feel you shutting down. I know you want to run but you’re so strong, E, and you have me. Can you feel me?
Yes.
Okay, you have two of the boxes we just set up. Let’s go into the master be
droom. Follow me and grab those boxes. Come on!
I love when her texts get all bossy. I picture her squaring her shoulders and jutting out her chin as she gets ready to lead me around by my ear. And in the middle of this hell, I actually crack a smile.
I’m coming, Ms. Pushy!
Good boy! Now, phone on the table. Start loading. Grab what you can get to first.
Packing up Alyssa’s things is hard and takes a really long time. Even though I’m not going to keep anything in here, I don’t want strangers going through her personal things. That being said, everything I touch breaks my soul just that much more.
But, Alex’s room…well, let’s just say, that’s a whole other story.
It’s exactly like it was the day he left to get his yellow belt. “I can’t do this,” I say into the empty room. But just as I turn to leave, my phone pings and through my tears I see the classic picture of a cat hanging from a tree with the caption, “Just hang in there.”
“God, Dee,” I laugh despite myself, then sink to the floor and sob. “Just hang in there, yeah, right.”
E! I need you to text me.
Shit! I left Dee hanging. The thought makes me think of the stupid cat picture and I shake my head and chuckle. It also brings me back to the present and I look around Alex’s room, the room I custom designed and the urge to share it with Dee is overwhelming.
I need to tell you about his bedroom.
God, E…
I remember building his bed. It’s a bunk bed I designed to look like a space shuttle. There’s a ladder attached on the outside to get to the top bunk and a cockpit in the front with a bench seat that’s a toy chest. I even added a real steering wheel to make it more authentic.
Wow, E, it sounds wonderful.
Leave it to her to be so thoughtful.
It is. It’s white with red and blue trim, I even added the American flag.
He loved it, didn’t he?
My son being referred to in the past tense shatters me. It makes it all the more real that I’ll never see him grow. There will never be a graduation. He’ll never attend college, fall in love, get married, or have kids. He’ll never get that chance. He was stripped of all that and it’s so fucking unfair!
I can’t do this! I start shaking. My breath becomes quick and shallow and my vision blurs. The only thing that saves me is the constant ping of Dee’s texts.
E…!
I need you to answer me!
Are you there?
EEEEEE!
I’m coming to you! Text me your address!
E! ANSWER MY FUCKING TEXTS!
Oh fuck! She has to be freaking out.
I can’t do this, Dee. My wife’s things were hard but this…
Breathe, E. We have all the time in the world and I’m not going anywhere. I’m next to you on the floor. I’m sitting with you. Are you sitting with me?
Yes…
Take my hand. Lean back against the wall with me. Take a deep breath and tell me more about his room.
I close my eyes and stretch out my arm, clasping it around where hers would be if she were here. I can feel her and I know I’m not alone.
We had all the walls painted with murals of astronauts and aliens. Cartoon figures standing on the surfaces of planets. And the ceiling is dark blue and covered in glow-in-the-dark stars arranged in constellations. Deeee…
I can’t stop crying!
Tell me when you are ready to stand up again and we will. We don’t need to rush this. We’re in no hurry!
FUCK!
I can’t do this! She should be here with me. I need her to be here with me. Now I know how she felt last weekend and I hate it!
E, I’m not ready yet.
What does she mean? What’s she not ready for?
Let’s have a shot. I know you brought Johnnie in the room with you. Pour us a shot.
She knows I’m not ready and this is her way of giving me some time. We knew Alex’s room was going to be extremely hard so she had me bring my bottle of Johnnie. I swallow the whisky, straight from the bottle, enjoying the burn as it slides down my throat and smile when I read:
I need another.
Another lie, I really do love her.
Me too.
By the time I finish packing up the house, the sun is already starting to set. I stopped drinking hours ago. I want to get out of here the minute I’m finished and the rest of their personal things didn’t require me being numb to get it done. I load up their things into my car and voice text with Dee all the way home.
As exhausted as I am, I still need her. We drink some more and she gets me to watch a movie. She lets me choose, so I pick a Michael Bay movie. I cringe when I think about the movies I suggested when she packed up her husband’s things. After going through what I just went through, I’m not surprised The Notebook was what she came back with. I almost want to indulge her but I seriously need to see shit get blown up. When the movie ends, I notice she’s stopped answering my texts. She’s always told me if she falls asleep texting me it’s because she didn’t want to say goodbye. I know she’s fallen asleep and I leave her with…
I love you.
Next up, the one-year anniversary of their deaths. I’m dreading that but at least I won’t have to go through it alone.
TODAY’S THE DAY WE’VE BOTH been dreading. I dreaded packing up their things; that was brutal but for some weird reason, when it was all done, l felt this weird sense of peace. Today’s the one-year anniversary and we’re heading to where they’re buried to visit them. I can’t believe it’s been a year and I’m sure we would never have made it this far if we didn’t have each other.
Dee and I have been texting about this day for a while now and last night we had another long talk about it. The entire night to be exact. We decided that we should do it together, through texts, like we’ve done everything else.
Dee had her in-laws take her daughter so she could do it alone. I’m sure they wanted to visit him too, but I’m happy they respected her decision.
Once I make it through the gates of Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City I text Dee. I can’t believe I’m here and that I’m actually doing this. I’m freaking out and can’t stop shaking. I don’t want to do this. It’s like digging into my skin with a jagged knife and opening up painful wounds that haven’t completely healed.
Dee says this is necessary. A necessary evil, that can go fuck itself.
Are you there yet?
Yes, I’m at the cemetery. Are you at yours yet?
Unfortunately, I am.
Yeah.
Did you bring the gifts you got for them?
Sure did, Dee. Did you bring yours?
Yep.
Since we knew that the one-year anniversary was coming up and we knew we’d be visiting them, we each got a small gift from the Hometown Fair to put on the graves. I can tell by her texts that I’m not alone in the freak-out department. Her texts are usually flowery and drawn out, not blunt like they are now. I have a feeling she hasn’t left her car.
Have you left your car yet?
No, and I don’t want to.
I agree. I just want to go home, plant my ass on the couch with a cold beer, and forget this day even exists.
I don’t want to be here either, Dee. But we both know it has to be done.
Okay, E, you’ve always been the brave one. You first.
My bravery went out the window the minute I drove through the entrance of this terrible place.
I can’t believe we’re doing this. I take a deep breath, wipe my tears, and add:
Hell, Dee, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have been brave enough to even be here in the first place. I’d still be at home!
I wish we were at home joking and drinking.
I wish that too, sweetheart. This is really hard.
We’re acting like this is the last time we’re ever going to see them. In a sense it is, because this time, we’re truly accepting that they’re never coming back.
&
nbsp; Remind me again why the fuck we need to do this?!
Instead of answering, she texts me a different question.
Have you ever visited them?
I’m sure she knows I haven’t been here much.
Once in the beginning. You?
I’m sure she has.
Yeah, a few times. I came on his birthday with his parents and my daughter and a few times on my own. It was too hard though, you know? You and I have come so far and each time I’m here…I just sit next to his headstone and sob. I feel like for every forward step I’ve been taking, coming here sets me two steps back.
They’re really not here, you know. I feel them every day and I know you feel him too.
I know. You and your damned big brain.
It’s nice to see she’s trying to lighten the mood. Her distractions always seem to help ground me.
I’m not even going to joke about big things right now. But, like you did in our early texts, you just made me smile. So, thanks, love.
God, E, is this ever going to get easier? Why is this still so hard?!
I’ve asked myself those questions every day since the day they died. I really wish I had an answer for her but, sadly… I don’t.
I don’t know, babe. Honestly, I don’t think it ever will. I think that’s why we’re both still sitting in our cars, stalling.
Okay, I think that the only way that we’re ever going to be able to get out of our cars is if we’re childish about this.
She’s about to throw out another one of her crazy ideas and they always make me nervous. I just hope that this one will get us out of our cars.
Childish???
Yep, let’s count to three and get out at the same time.
You’re right. Childish, immature, crazy, and stupid, but you’re right.
I’m right about my idea being childish, immature, crazy, and stupid? And thanks for that by the way! Or I’m right about doing the counting thing?
All of the above and you’re still stalling! Let’s just rip the Band-Aid off together. 1…
Oh God, E! I’m scared shitless… Okay…1.
2.
I can’t do this…2.
I can’t either but we are doing this…3.
Saving Each Other (Saving Series Book 1) Page 13