Lately my heart has been heavy with the weight of the anniversary of my husband’s death less than a month away. Even though it’s been 13 years since he so suddenly left us with a fatal heart attack while playing basketball with our son Andy, the budding blossoms of trees, shrubs, and flowers usher in my melancholy and deep yearning for the life we shared as a couple. That fated morning started like any other warm spring day with white pedals bursting forth on the dogwood trees surrounding our home, birds singing, mowers humming in the neighborhood, coffee brewing, newspaper spreading out on the kitchen counter, kids rushing to get showers and dress for school, bees buzzing, dogs barking in the distance, flag flapping in the breeze over the front door, white puffy clouds darting across the blue sky…. but ended in the deafening sounds of emergency vehicles summoned to the gym where David collapsed to the brown rubbery floor with young sweaty boys including Andy watching hopelessly for signs of movement in his lifeless body. It’s a day forever etched in our memories filled with echoes of sirens signaling in a shift in our view of this season of spring!
Sitting by water helps me feel closer to my husband David who died years ago. I will often go to the lake that was behind the last house we lived in with our children before he died. I’ll walk my dog around and around the lake remembering what it was like before he died.
If I use my imagination while I’m circling the lake, I can almost believe that he’s just away on a trip and will be home when I get back from my walk. I often walked to get my thoughts straight so that I could work on a writing project for my graduate degree. He would encourage me to take my time; he’d fix dinner on the grill. It was always nice to come home and smell the aroma of burgers on the grill. I would usually hear the basketball bouncing as Andy was practicing his shots at our new Gorilla Goal. Our golden retriever puppy would start getting excited just like me and tug hard to get me moving faster to see them. We would bound up the driveway and find them sitting at the patio table near the grill just enjoying the sunset and talking about basketball.