I haven't had a good cry in a while. I'm cleaning the kitchen now, 6:15am, before all have risen for the day. Dinners dishes in the sink, homework open at the table.
I've taken the leftover chicken bones and squeezed the last meat from the bones. They are in the crock pot now with an onion and a carrot coarse chopped. Id learned from a Philippines friend that leaving the onion skin on will give the broth color, and it's easier.
This damned Tupperware was sitting in the way of me cleaning. As I started putting it together to complete it and get it put away I saw that little name.
My hips and knees hurt all of the time these days. Osteo arthritis. I'm still coaching these little twelve year olds but I can barely get across the gym at times.
I'm not sad. I just think about you all the time. That doesn't make me cry. But this morning I thought... I sure would walk next door right now and lay down beside you, at 6:20am on a week day, with no warning. The top blanket would be that woven heavy blanket. I'd tell you about my hips. I'd tell you that cleaning the kitchen like a mouse in the night reminds me of you. I wouldn't need you to say anything.
It's been thirty minutes of continuous crying now, I'm just typing out these thoughts to capture this moment.
Oh, there was an agm last weekend. But you'd already know all about it so I wouldn't need to bring it up. You wouldn't bring it up either, because we all know what's happening there and there's nothing else to be said. I love you.
It's now 655 and my little early riser is up. She's cold so she's still in her pajamas but has put a large pink winter coat on. I've seen a similar coat at my basketball games in my youth.
I'm sort of afraid to confess this... but I brought that tupperware to your house this summer. Rebecca had filled it with fresh cut up veggies to snack on during her drive from Victoria to the Lake. I mocked her for not having just stocked up on chips and gummy candies to keep her awake on the drive. But then when I was getting ready to drive your van back from the lake to Calgary, I filled it up with veggies for my drive. I meant to tell you to take it back to the lake.
ReplyDeleteMaybe you should pack it up and mail it back to Rebecca in Victoria so she can see Arta's handwritten name on it and have a cry too. This is all her fault.
I am inured to the crying (yes, that i a word Arta would have used with the little ones). I do not use my own Mac cord plug in, I use Arta's (which has "ARTA" written on it in big block letters). So... I get to have that reminder of her every day. oh ya.... and bring me back my Arta tupperware!!!!!
ReplyDeleteHello dear ones. 4:44am. So grateful to happen on this beautiful post and love note replies. In my clinic earlier this week, a child had put together ever duplo I had in a tower that required tiptoes to complete. As we looked over the masterpiece, there, in the middle of the marvel was four tiny letters - ARTA. She is written on our hearts and on our practical, everyday tools. Thank you for your post.
ReplyDelete