Morning all. I hope you are set for a good day. We have snow and more cold bearing down on us so I am going to be running around this morning to make certain we have everything we need in the house before the bad weather returns. Admittedly we are still under drought conditions so we could use the snowmelt. I’m just not fond of the single digit temps that are following behind. But for now, timers set and fifteen minutes are on the clock. Let’s see what our brains kick out.
Huh. Not quite what I was expecting. I like it, it was just unexpected.
Friday, January 30th: The tears came without warning.
The tears came without warning. One moment she was fine, the next minute her body was convulsing with sobs. It was a little thing that set her off. Even as she clutched the edge of the countertop and let the grief wash through her, she knew the cause. She just hadn’t been expecting it.
She thought she was through grieving. That she did her crying, wailed against the unfairness of loss and was beginning to move on. Then she saw that stupid little toy sitting next to the sink. It came in a prize from one of those cereals he liked to eat. It didn’t matter to him that the cartoons featured on them were ones that didn’t come out until he was in college or beyond and weren’t nostalgic. In fact, she was certain he preferred the mystery of the cartoon creatures pictured on his fruity and sugar laden cereal just so he could puzzle them out.
She looked at the little toy. Remembered him pulling it from the box, opening the plastic and deciding the goofy grin on the little plastic creature would be perfect to set by the sink to make the task of washing dishes seem less onerous. Their dishwasher had broken at the time and they were taking turns washing until they could save up for a replacement.
“He named him Harry,” she recalled. Her vice came out as a harsh whisper, her belly still clutching in fits and starts of grief even though she wiped the last of the tears away. He liked to talk to the little toy when it was his turn to wash dishes and for a moment, she could almost see him standing there talking to the little thing.
Grief comes in waves, she was told. She thought she passed the last of those stormy waters. “I guess not,” she told herself. She let the image fade. He was gone now, the funeral long since over. This wasn’t even the house they shared. His death set off a chain of events that propelled her out of her life. After the funeral she left. The funeral had been quiet. They were new to the area and hadn’t made many friends. The ones they did make were more acquaintances. They sent cards but didn’t feel the need to attend services.
It made the security detail happy to have a minimal crowd consisting of her and the staff of the funeral home. Neither of them had any family to notify let alone have in attendance. When hearing it, the agents looked relieved. They called it fewer complications.
They relieved her of more complications when packing. Personal things that could be identifying were removed. The generic cereal box prize wasn’t considered worth confiscating and so Harry joined her in exile. Her testimony was given, her name changed and her life started fresh.
She took a deep breath and wiped her tears. She turned to the sink and released the counter from her death grip. She turned on the cold water and splashed a little on her face, hoping to remove the worst signs of this recent bout of tears. She had a meeting in half an hour and did not want to look as though she had been crying.
Ten til Midnight 