Although a week after Al passed I painted two complete rooms and had my ceilings in the living room and kitchen repainted, I must move on. Today is a day I have no plans. These type of days are my hardest.
So, I didn’t want to cry. I have been in his room and even though it makes me so sad and gives me a pair of wet eyes, I need to talk to him by looking at his personal stuff. Shoes, pictures, all his cars, coca cola. It just speaks of who Al was.
I cooked down some chicken and when it was cool, I de-boned it. To this I added mushrooms, small potatoes, carrots, celery, a few apple slices, some frozen mixed veggies. Along with tons of spices I smell an aroma that makes my mouth water.
Then I went to my desk. Under the cubby hole of it were papers galore having to do with Al. I just dug in and started going through all of it. Sorting what I thought I may still need and others placing in different piles.
This led to a cleaning out of my desk drawers. Now it looks so empty. All I see is my things. I boxed his up and filed them and dated them and placed them in their proper storage area.
I don’t mean to hide you away dear brother, but I have to move on. Don’t worry, there are plenty of things I can’t even touch yet as my heart still breaks when I look at certain things. I could never forget you brother.
When Mom passed a way, Dad was still living. I used to go to my phone and dial her number wanting to tell her something and then stopped, realizing I couldn’t. When Dad died, and I lived in the house with Al, I used to play the answering machine for a long time just so I could hear his voice.
Now with Al being gone I have gotten a little smarter. I made a little video of you a week before you died. It not only has your face; it also has your voice. I have it placed ever so gently in a special file on my computer. Any time I think I am going to forget your voice I can play it.
I can not hear my Mom’s voice any longer. I can barely hear Dad’s, but yours, I have forever. So you never have to worry buddy boy, I have you with me in my heart and spirit, even with your room looking so different.
I watered Al’s plants and I now have four open Peace Lilies open. You are alive brother dear. Whether I go into your room, or into your bathroom or even here in the living room, I see you everywhere.
So all paper work is properly filed. Soup is finishing cooking. It is dreary outside with a little chill. Only in the fifties today. It is going to rain. Spring flowers are blooming and the trees are budding.
Life is becoming new but for today, some things never change, and I am remembering you.