Rainy Days (fifth installment)

You can find the fourth installment here.

Somehow, I made it through the funeral. I actually managed to appear quite stoic throughout most of the service, a relatively easy task since most of the time I felt numb and outside of myself. My only spark of life occurred at the closing of the viewing period, just prior to the beginning of the actual funeral. The funeral directors were preparing to close Micah’s casket prior to the actual service; due to the physical damage Kai sustained, it was agreed that his casket would remain sealed. As one of the directors approached my son’s casket, I suddenly experienced a choking sensation, as if my windpipe had been constricted by some unseen hand. I also had the protective urge to push each of those men away from my child. My mother, ever sensitive to sudden changes in my mood, took hold of my hand in hers and began to audibly pray. Aaron, seated on my right, took his cue from our mother, wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into him. The panic eased as I sat there surrounded by them, but I felt a flicker of anger that my mother would call upon Him at this particular place and time. Why couldn’t I make her understand that God stopped listening to me a long time ago?

Finally, the service was over, the last dinners were consumed and for most, this period of grief and mourning was beginning to past; family and friends to return to their own lives and routine. It took several weeks and a few mild squirmishes with Aaron, but I finally convinced my family of my need to return my own home. They were increasingly worried and concerned by the lack of tears and emotional displays, even weeks after the funeral. I was unable to express to them the utter blackness and despair that consumed me, such that nothing touched me, not even the thought of being alone.

I tried to quit my job, however, my boss refused to accept my letter of resignation; he placed me on an extended leave of absence instead. The extended family concluded that I wanted to quit because of the ample insurance payout and Kai’s 401K that could potentially support me for the rest of my live if I chose to. My mother and brothers, however, suspected the real reason, which was that I simply no longer cared what happened to me or my life and that I only wanted to spend my time waiting until I could see Micah and Kai again. They let me return to my house, but kept up regular visits, each alternating casual drop-bys several days a week.

Weeks turned in to months and as concerned as I knew them to be, not even they could continue to devote all of their time to me. They each had their own families, employers and interests and were gradually forced to resume their previously established patterns. Daily visits became daily phone calls, which eventually became weekly and then occasional visits. I was alone.

I listened to the water drizzling through the trees outside on the deck in back of our house. I could almost hear the rain water as it was greedily consumed by the thirsty earth this late summer afternoon. I relished the brief respite from despair the rain always brought to me. Over the past few months, this has been the only time I could freely think about Kai and Micah without feeling overwhelmed and doubling over in pain.

Out here in the rain, with no one around, for those brief, stingy moments, I could remember the love and joy that surrounded and radiated from this house. I catch gentle echoes of Micah’s giggles and laughter as he and his dad tossed a football at each other in the back yard. I can feel Kai’s strong arms gathering me into him as we stand together on the deck watching Micah stubbornly struggle with a pup tent because refused either of our assistance. I can feel the scratchy brush of Kai’s jaw as it caressed mine when he leaned in close to tease that our son was “stubborn, just like you.” If I concentrate hard enough, the light summer breeze carries a tantalizing whiff of Kai’s shaving lotion given to him during our first Christmas together. I can feel my lips curve into a smile as I think about the dozens of other fragrances I had purchased for him over the years. But aside from an initial obligatory wearing, he routinely returned to this fragrance. We had only been dating about 6 months at this Christmas. And every year since, he would remind me that this would always be his favorite fragrance because “this was the moment that I knew that I would love you always.”

I had been sitting on the deck for a couple hours, long after the rain shower had ceased, so completely caught up in my memories. I suddenly caught a whisp of movement out of the corner of my eye. I scanned the area trying to detect further movement, near the gazebo, I think, I mused out loud, which stood towards the outskirts of their property. I looked closely for a couple minutes but there was no further movement. I turned away, about to dismiss the entire incident when. . . yes. . .there! Yes, someone was there.

I was too far away to identify the person or persons and while I briefly gave thought to chasing after them, I was suddenly unable to work up enough interest and felt overwhelmed by fatigue. I started towards the patio doors.

Besides, whoever it was would be long gone before I could even reach the gazebo, I tell myself. I figure it was probably couple of kids probably playing hide and seek. Maybe I'll go out and check the gazebo later for damage.

I had all but forgotten the odd incident by the time I woke up later that day. This was typical for me these days. I continued to find it difficult to work up much interest in anything anymore. I cooked only to sustain my body, I had lost any pleasure I used to have in eating. I limited my movements in the big house to the downstairs guest bedroom, kitchen and living areas. The one or two times I ventured into Micah’s room, I felt such an overwhelming sadness, that I had not been able to muster the courage to return. The thought of sleeping in the master bedroom without Kai was unbearable.

The past couple months though, I have made more of an effort to be more sociable. Not so much out of any desire to be around people, but because I figure I needed to do something to allay my family’s growing concerns that I was losing my mind! Their startled and frightened expressions, as they slowly took in the obvious weight loss and the complete lack of attention to detail displayed in my dress and grooming finally penetrated my consciousness. It just wouldn’t do for them to start thinking about hospitals or sanitariums. It was only after Carolyn and Charmane gave up all attempts at discretion and started to openly discuss various psychologists or psychotherapists in the area that I realized I had to make some changes. Or at least, I needed to give the appearance of change.

I was sensible enough to know that I needed to appease their fears, to reassure them that I was not a candidate for an asylum and so I played the game. I started showing up like clock work for Sunday afternoon family dinners at my mama’s house and made certain that everyone observed that I sampled every dish on the overworked dining table. I started taking calls again at the house instead of allowing them to go to voicemail but kept a careful eye on the clock so that I could limit the duration of the calls otherwise, someone would start fussing about my retreat and the need to be more active.

I drew the line, however, at returning to our weekly church services. I found that there was a limit even to my hypocrisy. I knew God did not exist, or if He did, He no longer visited my neighborhood, so I thought it only fair that I stay out of His. I was insulated from the cares and concerns of most of my family, but I found that nothing protected me from my mother’s suffering and distress at my decision not to return to church. Nonetheless, I found that I didn’t have the words to comfort her which only made the pain worse for both of us.

The following Monday, the sun rose early and brightly. The early morning air had the clean crisp feeling that typically follows a cleansing rain. The ground was still saturated and one had just a hint of the humidity that would come as the sun reached higher into the sky.

I was surprised to find it nearly 11 o’clock when I finally arose that morning. More often than not, I have trouble falling asleep or if I fall asleep ok, I’m awakened throughout the night by nightmares. It seemed that for once, at least, I had been given a pass to sleep soundlessly. As was my habit, I went into the kitchen and made coffee after carelessly throwing on an old pair of sweats. The oppressive silence of the house had it’s usual effect and I started to feel claustrophobic. Just as I reached the patio doors to go outside, I thought I heard the sound of a child’s laughter. My heart skipped a beat as I briefly considered the possibility of the laughter belonging to my son, and then just as quickly dismissed it. As much as it would be a relief to become as crazy as some of my family believed me to be, I knew I was completely sane.

I paused at the door, straining to hear the sounds again. Yes, I can hear it clearly now. The childish laughter came from the gazebo. Yesterday’s incident came back to me and I wondered it this could be the same visitor. It was difficult to make out anything clearly in that area due to the covering of trees and shrubbery, but I was fairly certain that I could see someone moving in the gazebo.

I slipped my feet in the first pair of shoes I found, a discarded pair of rubber boots belonging to Kai. I sloshed and stumbled my way across the lawn in the oversized shoes. The closer I got, I could clearly hear a child’s voice as she alternately talked and giggled to some unknown other. Just before I reached the steps, I could hear the sudden sound of movement and running footsteps. I reached the entrance in time to see a little girl, perhaps 5 or 6 in age, running away down the path leading to the property line of my next neighbor. She was wearing a white eyelet sundress and did not appear to be wearing shoes. She neither looked back, slowed down nor responded in anyway as I called after her.

Look for the sixth and final installment on Wednesday.