My daughter just left with my in-laws for the weekend.
I can’t believe I’m going to be packing up Scott’s things tomorrow. I know he isn’t coming back but I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to not see his things mixed with mine; I’m still not ready to let him go.
I know you’re not ready. We’ll be together every step of the way.
I love how well he knows me. Just seeing his words, and knowing I have his support, makes all the difference in the world. He makes it okay to keep moving forward.
You’re right. I’m not ready, I’m panic stricken! I know he isn’t coming back but DAMN IT, E! This isn’t right. We shouldn’t have to be doing this!
I completely agree, and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here to hold your hand through the entire thing. YOU’RE SAFE!
Can you come over tomorrow? Please?! I’ll just text you my address and wait with your bottle of Johnnie Walker, my bottle of Patron, and a couple boxes of tissues… I’ll wait!
Ahhh, sweetheart, I love you and there’s nothing I’d rather do—
He doesn’t get to finish his text. His answer is unacceptable. My thumbs fly over the keypad at warp speed. I don’t want his excuses, I want him!
Don’t say it, E! There is no “but”! You CAN come over to my house. This stupid rule of ours is complete BULLSHIT! I can’t stop crying. I FUCKING NEED YOU!
You’re breaking my heart, Dee, but you know we can’t. We need each other too much right now to cross that line. We still have harder things ahead of us. Things we can only get through if we’re together. Please know though, I’m here. Maybe not physically but I’m right here with you! Me, Mr. Walker, and that stupid box of Betsy Johnson tissues you made me buy.
HAH! Only you could make me laugh through my tears. And even though I don’t like it, I understand.
Try to get some rest tonight, sweetheart. Tomorrow’s going to be a hard day.
He’s absolutely right, tomorrow’s going to be brutal.
I didn’t sleep a wink last night—I couldn’t. E and I spent the entire night texting. We talked about what we’ve been through and planned out what we still have in front of us. We set up all the moving boxes and got everything in place. We also discussed our rule about not meeting. I love that he’s here with me and right now I’ll take him anyway I can have him. His love and support is what’s kept me going since the accident. But damn it! It would be so great to actually have him here, in my arms. I know it will happen. One day we’re going to get through this, healthy and whole, and he will end up in my arms.
I make myself a pot of coffee and check that all the moving boxes are still in place. I make sure there are plenty of boxes of tissues ready; I’m so going to need them. I also have my bottle of Patron open with a shot glass waiting to be filled. I know it’s too damn early to drink but I really don’t give a shit. This is the hardest thing I’ve had to do since the funeral. Though the difference is, this time I have E. I have his love and support and I know he has a bottle of Johnnie Walker ready so I won’t be drinking alone, at least after this shot. I down my first shot. Breakfast of champions and all that. But in reality, it’s been a long time since I’ve had to numb myself. Right after I push the cork back into the bottle, my phone pings.
Are you up, babe?
Yes, but you’re supposed to be sleeping.
I couldn’t sleep. I know you’re upset and nervous. I tried to sleep but when you’re hurting, I’m hurting.
I love you for that, and I know we planned everything out and got everything in place but I’m still not ready to do this.
Not even close.
Dee! I’m going to guide you through this. It’ll be just as if I’m standing next to you. I know you won’t be able to say much so when I ask just use the letter “K” so I know you’re with me.
K.
Switch your phone to voice command and hold out your free arm and open your hand. Take my hand and hold it.
I do as he says, then extend my arm and close my fingers, just as I would if I were holding his hand.
K.
That’s it, Dee! I’m clasping my hand around yours and squeezing it. I feel your hand in mine. Do you feel mine?
I can feel your hand but I’m scared, E. I can’t do this. Why are we doing this?
I know you’re scared, sweetheart. But we both know we have to do this. I’m here holding your hand. Let’s walk into your room. Tell me when you’re there.
I try to walk into my room. I sleep here every night but right now my legs won’t work.
I’m here. Oh God, E!
I know, baby. Are you looking at your closet?
I’m still frozen by the door as I text to answer him.
Yes.
Good job! We have all the boxes we set up last night and I know we put one by the closet. Let’s go in, together.
K.
I suck in a large breath and squeeze my hand tighter against his for support. Then I walk into the closet, grasping E’s hand like a lifeline.
I’m in.
It’s crazy how many times I’ve been in here over these past horrible months and was okay with it; but now I’m not.
No, we’re in. I’m in here with you. Feel my presence, Dee. Feel my support. I’ve got you!
Oh God…
We’re in.
Good girl! I’m going to let go of your hand now so you can grab his clothes. Put your phone on the table we set up.
I take a deep breath and do as he says.
It’s on the table.
You can do this. We can do this. We talked about all of this last night, in detail, so right now we’re going to do exactly what we planned. Start with the suits, hangers and all, and set them in the first box, as is.
Oh God, E! I’m crying so hard I can’t see!
Here’s a tissue, babe. Take it so you can see.
I look over at the table he made me put in here last night and sure enough, there’s a tissue lying next to the box. It really is like he’s in here with me. I can feel his presence. I feel stronger, and suddenly I know everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. I can do this.
Thank you for the tissue. I can do this. You being here helps.
I’m here for you. Always! Now grab the suits and put them in the box. Let me know when you’re done.
K.
I grab the first suit, my favorite. Even though I can’t smell him anymore, I can still feel him, and all the times I held him in my arms while he was wearing this suit. I close my eyes and remember the last time he wore it.
“You know that’s my favorite suit, Scottie.”
“That’s why I wear it.”
“Actually, I changed my mind.”
“You did?”
“Yep! Your birthday suit is my favorite.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll change immediately when I get home from my appointment.”
We never did make it to dinner that night.
I know you’re thinking about him. I can feel it and it’s okay. You’re doing great, Dee! Give me a hug.
To ground myself, I open my arms, hold them in the space in front of me where E would be if he were here. I close my eyes, wrap my arms around myself, and squeeze. I can feel my E with me.
Thanks for the hug. I’m going to grab his pants now.
Take your time, sweetheart. You can do this. There’s no rush.
E’s right. I can do this! With him beside me, I can. So with renewed determination, I get to work, remembering something from each piece of clothing I put in the boxes.
There, they’re in the box.
For the next few hours I pack up the rest of the closet, his drawers, and the toiletries I never had the heart to move. I also pack up all his personal things scattered around the house and throw away all his favorite foods. The ones I keep buying and tossing when they rot or expire. It was hard but E helped me through it. I cried, he made me laugh. I reminisced, he listened.
I need a drink.
I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You deserve one. Take my hand, let’s get you that drink.
Hand in hand, we walk into the kitchen. With the first shot poured, E makes a toast.
To moving forward!
I hold out my shot, repeat his toast and let the clear liquid slide down my throat. The burn from the tequila is a welcome relief. God, I needed it.
Another?
Abso-fucking-lutely!
E makes me eat the food we prepared the night before and we both take our sandwiches outside so we can enjoy the sun together. I look over at Ian’s house. I haven’t seen him in a while and I have no plans to see him anytime soon. What I’m going through is too hard and way too personal; I need E, not Ian. He’s become a good friend and I hope one day he’ll eventually understand the reason for my absence.
I also feel at peace. E kept telling me how proud he was of me and that he knew I could do it. His support made all the difference and I know he’s close—I can feel him.
By late afternoon I was completely done, both mentally and physically. All the boxes are taped and set out in the garage. Eventually I’ll bring them to the Salvation Army, but for now, I’m leaving them in my garage.
Later, we decide to watch a movie together and fire up Netflix. He jokes about wanting to watch a movie like A Nightmare on Elm Street, he then follows with Ghostbusters. He thinks he’s so funny. I know he’s joking so I hit back with The Notebook, just to see what he says. After he begs me to keep his balls intact, we settled on Money Pit, a true classic. He’s never seen it, much to my surprise, since it is right up his alley. He ends up loving it and we laugh and joke through the entire movie.
After the credits roll, we spend the rest of the night talking, laughing, and drinking. Drunk texting is hysterical! The later it gets, the drunker we become. The gaps in time between the texts say it all. Autocorrect has a field day. How we even understand each other is a miracle, but we stay with it, texting back and forth until I fall asleep with my special phone in my hand.
E’s packing up his house next weekend. I know it’s going to be brutal for him but I’ll be by his side, just like he was for me.