I finally decided what I want for a tattoo. I was organizing my bookshelf with my new books from the signing last week, and I came across an older favorite about a couple where the hero was in the military.
I decided to look through my old emails with Josh. The tattoo idea came to me as I was scrolling through them. I’m glad that technology was so advanced in our time, and we didn’t need to wait days or weeks to receive a letter in the mail, as romantic as that idea is.
Reminiscing through old emails, his term of endearment caught my teary eyes. Sunshine. Josh always said that no matter how gloomy it was overseas, thinking about me was his sunshine. I’d give him courage and will to fight.
I immediately sent Jen a message asking her where Ryder got his tattoos done and made an appointment. Nosy Jen began to ask a million questions, but I told her it was just a thought I had. This is something I want to do alone.
Part of me is freaking out, pacing around my house before I need to leave for my appointment. Another part of me is happy I’ll have a piece of Josh permanently with me.
I went back to art therapy this week and found a wistful peace. I thought a lot about Josh and cried, yet I found a release. Liza has been a continuous support, and Sam subtly throws some reflections my way when I’ve gone to Mikayla’s class.
Between the three women and Liv, I have no way of failing. Deep down, I know Josh would want me to be happy. So I’m finding my happy while honoring him.
Checking the time, I hop in my car and drive to the tattoo shop with the sample of Josh’s handwriting.
I discuss my idea with the tattoo artist, Joel, and he seems confident that he can use Josh’s handwriting for the tattoo. I had one card he gave me for our anniversary a couple years ago where he wrote sunshine on it.
The artist has me fill out a consent form as I wait for him to get the design ready. The buzzing of tattoo guns around the small studio jolts me. I have no idea how much this will hurt, but I know it will be worth it.
Liza challenged me with the task of cleaning up Josh’s clothes and shoes in the next couple of weeks. This is something that eventually will have to happen. The longer I hold out on doing it, the more I’m resisting the way of life. This is both of our journeys, and I need to accept that.
My heart beats furiously when Joel calls me in and by the smirk on his face, I do a poor job of hiding my nerves.
“It won’t hurt too much. First, I’ll put the stencil on so you can make sure you like the position.” I nod and watch as he prepares my skin and rubs the stencil on my left wrist. After looking at the reflection of it, I smile.
“It’s perfect,” I tell Joel.
“Great. It’s important you don’t move. If you need me to stop, let me know and I will.”
“Okay.” I gulp and wait for the stinging buzz to begin. I breathe in as he pierces my skin. It feels more like a dull pricking than any real pain.
“All done,” Joel says.
“What? That’s it?” I look down at my wrist and see Josh’s handwriting in black ink.
“Yeah, told ya it would be a breeze. What do you think?” He smiles.
“I love it. Thank you so much.” I sniffle, willing myself not to cry in front of him.
“Glad you do. I’m sure he was a good man.”
“He was.” I nod slowly. “Thank you.”
Once home for a few hours, I wash the tattoo how Joel instructed and apply the lotion. The dull raindrops hitting the roof make me sleepy, so I grab the blanket that drapes over the back of the couch and bring Dixie up to me, careful to leave my left arm away from her.
With reruns of Gilmore Girls on the television, I rest for a little while. Liv and Jen are both away this weekend, traveling with Rebel Desire for their performance at some charity. I stare at the bookshelf adjacent to the television and wonder when I’ll be able to read my romance novels again.
It’s days like this that I miss Josh the most—the rainy, lazy kind. We used to spend unnecessary amount of time picking a movie when he’d eventually let me have my choice. We would lie on the couch, the blanket thrown over us, and do anything but watch the movie.
I close my eyes as the memory washes over me like the cold rain falling outside. I shiver and continue to play the moments that were only ours.
I widen my eyes to prevent the tears from falling, scratching my forehead. Dixie cuddles deeper into my side and I mindlessly stroke her fur.
Josh and I tried to have as many days like that as possible since he was away more than he was here throughout the years we were together. After all the waiting for him to be home permanently, I can’t believe they deployed him again. His fatal deployment. He was respected in the Armed Forces, but…
I inhale deeply, the stubborn tears now trailing paths down the sides of my face.
As respected as he was, he still had a duty to fulfill, and when command called on him, he was there to serve.
I turn my head to look at my new tattoo. I miss him so much. The only man I ever loved. I vowed ’til death do us part, and it parted us earlier than I imagined.
I focus on the show again, trying not to replay every detail from our time together. I want to remember him with a joyous heart, not a resentful one.
Bored, I stand and stretch. The rain continues to fall at a slower pace. I look out the window by the door, Dixie at my feet, and open the front door. I slip outside, feeling the cool moisture surround me. Dixie’s cries are background music as I walk out from the covered porch and stand in the rain. Holding my arms out, I look up at the gloomy sky. Cold droplets fall on me. I close my eyes, feeling the rain. Allowing the sensation to fill me, aware that I am alive.
I laugh at how bizarre I must look, yet I don’t move. This is a feeling of freedom I’ve been lacking. Dancing in the rain is what every childhood dream is made of.
I knew the task of cleaning Josh’s clothes would be impossible, so I called reinforcements—Liv and Jen. I made sure to schedule them a week in advance, so they would be free to help me. They bounced in at nine this morning with hot coffee and a box of assorted doughnuts.
After showing them my week-old tattoo and eating more doughnuts than I should have, I led them to my room. Now, I sit on the floor in a heap of Josh’s shirts, reluctant to let go.
“As difficult as this is, I’m so proud of you,” Olivia smiles.
“Me, too. I’m glad you’re moving forward. Josh lives in your heart, and this is just physical stuff,” Jen adds. “It’s a normal passage in your situation.”
“I know.”
I fold the shirts and pack them in a box, glad someone in need will have use for this. I will be sending this stuff to a shelter that helps veterans suffering from PTSD. I keep one tee shirt and his Vols sweatshirt. That’s reasonable, considering it’s been almost a year and his stuff is still in place as if he lived here.
“What about these?” Jen holds up a pair of shorts from the dresser.
“You can pack those.”
“Is there anything specific from his bottoms you’d want to keep?” she asks.
“No.”
We clean out all of his belongings, and I only cry a couple of times. I’m grateful Josh was a simple guy. It would be too hard to go through a bunch of other stuff. Being military, he was always organized and precise. The only things he kept were small gifts I’d given him. Those I’m keeping, and Olivia is in charge of storing those in a container for me.
I stand and stretch after finishing with his tops. “Is it too early for a drink?” I ask the girls.
“Never,” Jen answers.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Liv grins.
“Oh, I left the bottle of wine in the car.” Jen hits her forehead with the back of her hand.
“That’s an easy fix. Sangria?” I smirk.
“Perfect,” she says and walks out to get it.
Olivia links her arm in mine and walks to the kitchen. “You’re doing a good thing.”
Her reassurance covers me like a blanket. I’ve been working on my guilt of “ridding” Josh from my life with Liza. She’s explained time and again that moving forward and cleaning his belongings is not getting rid of him. It’s a healthy step in living my life once more.
It wasn’t an out-of-this-world breakthrough or epiphany. It’s been small steps in the same direction that has allowed me to make it to this point. It helps that I’ve allowed those I care about to support me.
I think about Cole and all he did to help me after Jen’s wedding. His silent consolation. I haven’t seen him since the day we had it out. I hate that our friendship has torn because I truly love his company, but I’m not ready to give my heart to anyone else.
Jen comes right back in with a bottle of white and the three of us begin working on the sangria. A few minutes later, we’re sipping on the sweet goodness.
“I guess if some people have mimosas for brunch, we can have sangria,” I say.
“Yup,” Jen exclaims.
“How was your trip last weekend?” I ask them. I have no idea what charity Rebel Desire was performing at. All I know is that they had traveled to Illinois for it.
“It was good,” Liv glances at Jen. I notice a subtle shake of the head from Jen and pull in my eyebrows as I look between them.
“What?”
“Nothing. It was a good performance. We spent time around the city after,” Liv continues to talk.
“Why do you two keep looking at each other?” I cross my arms.
“We’re not,” Jen defends.
“Okay, now I know something’s up with the way Jen got all jumpy.”
“I didn’t,” she whines.
“Let’s just tell her,” Liv looks over at her cousin.
“Liv,” Jen warns. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, especially today.” She opens her eyes wide.
“I’m right here,” I chirp.
“It goes on record that I did not agree with this,” Jen points at Olivia.
“Okay, drama queen,” Olivia rolls her eyes. “It’s on the record,” she says in exasperation.
Olivia looks at me. “It’s nothing bad, and please don’t feel at fault.”
“When you start like that, I’m already feeling guilty.
“Shush. Thing is that Cole is pretty messed up. Emotionally. He’s being so hard on himself for hurting you. He’s arguing with the guys and Peyton. He barely went out with us in Illinois. After the performance, he went back to the hotel.”
“He looks like crap,” Jen chimes.
Olivia turns and glares. “You want to tell her or no?”
“You may continue.” She holds out her arm for Olivia to speak.
If I weren’t so upset about what she’s telling me, I’d laugh at their exchange.
“Anyway, he misses you and thinks he fucked up a friendship by having feelings for you.”
The last thing I want is for Cole to be unhappy. I hate hearing that he’s fighting with the guys. They’ve been together for so long, as friends and bandmates.
“If things were different…”
“I know.” Liv grins.
“They could be different,” Jen mumbles.
“Why don’t you make yourself busy filling your mouth with that sangria?” Olivia tells her and this time I laugh.
“You two are unique.”
“Thank you,” Jen bats her eyelashes. “At least I made her laugh,” she rubs in Liv’s face.
“Brat.”
“Cole is a great guy, and I miss talking to him. I’m just not what he needs. I should say, I can’t give him what he wants. Someone else already took all my love. In a different world, maybe.” I shrug.
I never bothered looking at him, or anyone, as more than a friend because Josh was always in my life. Yeah, I can appreciate a good-looking man, and Cole is handsome. He’s a great guy. He has a temper when he’s upset, yet cares fiercely for the people in his life. I’ve gotten to know him throughout the years, and had my life been different, he’d probably be my choice. But I can’t think in what ifs and alternate worlds because this is the only reality that exists.
Cleaning out Josh’s stuff is a big step, but I’m not ready to clear out my heart for another man.
“Had Josh never been in the picture, would Cole have had a chance?” Jen turns serious.
“Maybe.”
“So with time?”
“I said maybe, Jen, but Josh was in the picture. He was my husband. If you lost Ryder, would you be able to love another man?”
“With time, I would. It would be challenging, but I know he’d want that for me. We’ve talked about it. And as jealous as it makes me, thinking about it now, if I were gone, I’d want him to find someone who makes him happy again. What’s the point of staying alive and not fully living?”
“She has a point,” Liv says.
“Damn straight, I do,” she brags. “Life is meant to be enjoyed. How can we do that without friends and love?”
“You’re wise when you want to be,” I answer her.
She offers a cocky smile and refills our glasses.
Jen and Olivia stay until everything is packed up and ready to be picked up for the shelter. Full on Mexican food and sangria, I grab one of my favorite romantic comedy novels and attempt my first read since Josh’s death.
It’s less painful than I imagined, what with all the progress I’ve made. As I read, my mind wanders to my conversation with Olivia and Jen. I do miss seeing and talking to Cole.
Could I eventually open up to someone? Will the fear of also losing them linger?
I’m processing my grief so I can be Bri again and continue to live a life I’m proud of. At the age of thirty-three, that very well means another relationship. It’s the way life works, but at this moment, I am still working on rediscovering myself. Finding my own sunshine on a gloomy day.