On the day that you died

Caroline and Hannah at Adam and Alexis’s wedding

Hannah, on the day when you died, fifteen years ago…

I wanted to die and leave with you.

When you struggled to breathe, I laid down next to you and watched you labor with your body as your soul sought its release.

I couldn’t eat or drink, but only cry.

I watched people come and go, checking to see if your death was close.

I heard my sister-in-law, Linda, watering the garden, cleaning the kitchen, and finally sitting on the rug at the foot of your bed, quietly holding space for us and praying.

I didn’t move from your side for nine hours, an hour after you took your last breath.

I watched Ryan and Andrew and then Caroline sit by your side and fumble with their goodbyes.

I watched Bill take over, managing the hospice team, the priest, our boys, as I was helpless to do a thing but stay near you, even though your soul had left.

Once Bill left to pick Adam up from the airport, I lit candles and talked to you. I bathed you, put rose lotion on you, and put you in the white dress that you had worn to Adam’s wedding rehearsal seven months ago.

I watched Adam cry and say his goodbye, as we waited for the men from the funeral home to pick up your body.

I sat on the stairs and watched as they carried your body, wrapped in the rose-scented bed sheet, out of the house. I couldn’t stop crying.

Hannah, on this day, the day that you died….

I spent a sleepless night, anticipating what this day would bring.

I drank coffee and did the morning puzzles, an activity I started 18 years ago when I needed a distraction from the stress of your hospitalizations.

I watered the garden and the indoor plants.

I walked Beans through the woods and around our neighborhood.

I called to check-in with Linda, Caroline’s mom, to see how her preparations were coming for her daughter’s wedding.

I moved tables and chairs with Bill, preparing for Caroline’s rehearsal dinner at home this week.

I finalized my grocery shopping list for the dinner.

I gathered the glassybabys that would decorate the tables.

I wrote this piece as I reflected on Hannah.

I pampered myself with a pedicure, to get ready for the wedding.

I ate dinner and watched the Mariner’s game.

I toasted you with champagne.

Today is a different day than it was 15 years ago. A simple, ordinary day filled with chores and relaxation and special preparations. These days, I do my best to take care of myself, my flowers, my dogs, my family and friends. I haven’t cried once today, although the day’s not over yet.

Hannah and our family at Adam and Alexis’s rehearsal dinner

I no longer want to die. But I sure wish Hannah were here with me to help me get ready for Caroline’s wedding.