The sound Eric makes when he sobs is
so similar to the sound of when he actually laughs
it has always stopped me in my tracks. I always have wanted to make him really laugh.
He yelped, I think she is gone.
I remember running together to their bedroom. You were still, no
blinking, no
rasping.
I don't remember who called the funeral home. Eric didn't want to do it and it seemed that hours passed but I could be wrong. Tara said to write all this down, that you'll forget it so soon.
I remember finding the toothbrush he used to clean your teeth, the feeling of concrete pouring through every vessel in my body, muttering pithily that it's never too late for improvement. Drove to Krogers down the street and got you a new toothbrush. Blue, one of your favorite colors. This was one day, maybe two days prior.
Dense swath of golden grown bouncing with the two steps the gurney took down to the mini van. I ran to you one last time to feel the cheek bones in my palms and to touch the ball of your nose you used to say was just like your father's. I'm so sorry ma'am.
I remembered when eric cut your hair. He sent pictures with a colon and parentheses smiley. You were looking right at the camera, a peaceful grin. Sometimes I feel like she sees right through me he said. He was very proud of your new look. Your thick beautiful hair could work with anything.
I was giving your morphine the day before. You were panting and moaning. Eric said he wanted to do it but he couldn't stop wheezing. I took the vial, stroked your hair and face, poured it under your tongue. I wanted to give you something.
a keychain with a fuzzy lavender persian cat
knock off statin glass lily tile
wind chimes every year
a heart shaped rock, angeles national forest.
a pill to make it all stop. every piece of every feeling.
I sat on the bed next to you holding your hand. "Please Please Please" playing unrelentingly in my head. I am so sorry. Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another, but how would it sound reversed, yes maybe like retoneha ogeh eem....monkey chatter I couldn't pause. Your labored breathing, wet cloth to your lips. How does she seem? Eric in the doorway, bags under his eyes just as hard to see.
I left with my sister to get groceries. We grabbed canned margaritas in your honor. Kirkland tequila, salt rim, poured out of the same faded blue plastic pitcher as the orange juice and lemonade from the backyard. We pulled up to the house to find a white GMC in the driveway. A cross dangling from the rearview mirror, a cheap plastic sphere with a bulb in it on the dashboard. Fuck. Darting out of the car, every step a calculation, a thing of major consequence, like if i'd make this connecting flight.
In the doorway of the bedroom was a short woman iin glasses, tan and wrinkled with a dyke hair cut. Playing rain sounds off her phone she had just finished a prayer. Eric told you he likes white noise and celtic music. I am surprised but turn my mind from the temptation to ask, really? The connecting flight is too close. I see Eric is not crying. You were resting. "I'm Carakay. Like carrot cake, a little sweet, a little spicy" she said.
When you had left, we all kept checking
on you. Eric shut your eyes and curled up next to you. I remember thinking that we are all children and maybe even all mothers.
There was a moment. I thought there'd been a huge mistake or a miracle. Leaning down to hug you, a pulse thumped off your chest.
Jesus fucking christ, you're back.
You remember everything.
We love each other so much more than any anything and we are saying this over and over.
I say i'm so sorry and you say honey it's okay, we just didn't know.
We ask each other if we are happy and we say yes, yes, yes and did I say I love you yet
and I want to have a margarita with a salt rim and I want to pet your cats and I want to show you this lake you could paint
and i want to meet your girlfriend, and hear about everyone you've ever fallen in love with and I want to read a book together
let's watch Godfather.
My heart beats off your body and I have to laugh.
My heart began inside you. And ever since, you showed me what it all could be.
I knew you were gone when I saw the speck of grey by your iris. Like the statue on Easter Island. National Geographic bundle from the thrift store, girls come check this out.
I am crying over a basket of fries. The light could be dimmer, the room could echo less.
Nica sits across from me listening again
this time about how i can't sleep, cause every time i close my eyes I see the easter island on your eye.
A butterfly flaps its wings
A basenji in los feliz ran in front of your car at a yellow light
you met eric summer of 1980, a black bikini
you bleed and bleed on a camping trip together
miscarriage
invitro fertilization and you save and save
you play "my girl" and miranda and I fight over who you dance with
you forgot to pick us up from school a few times
work gave you a break then they let you go.
Nica looks at me, she is warm and curious and kind and I think a thought i've had so many times,
that you really would have loved her.
