Remembrance

I wrote this on June 11, 2023 - Lissa's birthday and the first after her death.

I got hot chocolate and a muffin and planned to go to a park to sit near the water and eat my treats. As I was nearly there, “Close to You” by Maxi Priest came on the radio – Lissa and I used to sing that song and chuckle over the “huh huh huh huh” part near the end. I pulled into the parking space at 6:11 a.m.

After eating, I walked down near the water and wrote “Happy Birthday, Lissa. I miss you” in the sand, knowing it will be washed away as the waves lap closer to the shore. I saw a duck family with a bunch of young ones paddling in the shallow water. I went over to the play area and sat on a swing for a few minutes. But I couldn't relax.

I drove to a nearby cemetery, which overlooks the lake. I walked a bit, and settled on a bench on the hill, looking out at the sparkling water. It was wonderfully cool after the heat we've had recently; I had to wear my hoodie because it was chilly with the wind off the water.

I talked to Lissa and cried. I told her I missed her and that I hoped her energy was dancing on the water somewhere. I told her Janet and I want to do something in her honor. She had so much more love to give, and we want to continue to share her love. I told her that I wished she were still here.

I walked around a bit, looking at the headstones and grave markers. It's a peaceful place. All I could hear were birds and the rustle of the wind through the leaves. I noticed that someone had a bunny lawn statue near their marker – bunnies will always remind me of Lissa since she was so tickled by the baby bunnies in the flower pot near her house. I found two feathers – one white, which is supposedly a sign of encouragement or hope or a sign from a passed loved one.

I am not alright. I will be better at some point, but for today, my heart is breaking all over again.