I’m in love with a man named Michael. This is more than a bit strange, I will admit, and it has caused occasional confusion when I refer to him as “Mike” or “Michael” in converstion with those who knew the father of my children.
Luckily, Michael’s nickname is “Flash.” He is funny, sweet, creative, generous and understands and accepts my past and present grief. And he loves my children. And I love his daugher.
He has had his experiences with death, too. Brother, mother, grandmother.
Marley and Avery have been with their dad’s Mom and her husband in NM all month. I’m so proud of them. It’s broken up my 21 month string of single motherhood and only now, after three weeks, am I decompressing from the constant vigilance of it all.
Why am I surprised that I still miss Mike every day? I suppose a piece of my heart will forever be broken over what happened.
Sometimes it’s worse, especially when the pain of my children becomes apparent. When Avery says “I really want a dad. If I could just have a chance…” as earnest and wistful as if he were trying out for the baseball team. Or when Marley becomes upset that she is different from everyone in her class and I ask her what she means, and she says that she is the only one whose dad has died.
Those things make me very very sad.
At times I think about how difficult this has been for all of us and I just want to cry. Sometimes I do. I feel like a refugee in many ways. Haunted by a past life that is simultaneously vivid and dreamlike, but unreachable. Gone.
This week, I am going to get some beehives put in my yard. May be getting some chickens in a few weeks, too. Both just kind of fell into my lap through friends of friends.. Mike and I had always talked about doing these things together.
He had a passion for gardening, sustainability, good food. I mourn this connection that we had and am haunted by the fact that we never will get to share these new barnyard hobbies.
Flash does not share these particular passions with me. But he has a passion for my passions and is a really good sport about it.
How can life be so strange and wonderful, sad and dark all at the same time?
I never knew.
I am in love with a woman named Christine.