AFTER NEW YEARS IT really did feel different. Nothing really changed other than the way my family started approaching me. It seems like everyone looked at New Years as a cutoff for me too. From that point on, they took a bit more of a direct approach with me when it came to their thoughts on how I was handling things. It felt like every time I went to my mom or my sister’s house, they didn’t help me, but instead took the opportunity to tear into me. If I came over sad, my mom would kick me in the ass. “No one said it would be easy,” she would say. If I let the girls do something or didn’t let the girls do something, they had an opinion. It was pretty frustrating because work wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders yet, which was normal, but when you’re in sales and you work on commission, anytime it’s not a high point, it’s easy to get incensed. So there I was vulnerable, lonely, and struggling, and everyone was nipping at my heels. At the time, it pissed me off but in hindsight, I can acknowledge they weren’t entirely wrong.
Denise was still helping me out a lot at that point, so it was easy to just dismiss whomever and leave. I mean she was really getting involved. She drove the girls to and from their sports, picked up groceries, and cooked dinners. Plus Denise turned a blind eye to anything that bothered her regarding me, so that made it easier to tune out my family as well. I was drinking pretty heavily and she was fine with that too. I figured if I had her approval and she was in the mix, what was the problem? Pretty stupid reasoning I know, but in the midst of it all, it made sense.
If I could go back or tell you something here, it would be this. Listen to your family. They will piss you off to no end but nobody, and I mean nobody, is going to be more honest with you. More importantly, they see the whole picture and they have your kids in their thoughts. Neither you nor your new girlfriend do. There are too many other things clouding your judgments at that point.
Not long after New Year’s Eve is the Super Bowl and after the last year, that event will be forever linked with Gina’s death. As the weeks began to ramp up to the Super Bowl, it got me thinking. It didn’t help that not only did I feel unsteady on my legs, but the days were short and the skies were gray. My mind took over and while everyone else seemed to feel renewed with the beginning of a new year, I was swimming in an impending doom. I had never been through an anniversary of this sort. How was I supposed to mark the day? It’s not exactly something you celebrate, but how do you acknowledge it? It wasn’t just me I was worried about; I had three kids to think it through for as well. I asked a few people but nobody really had any opinions that helped. In the end, I figured we would just go to the cemetery as a family and bring her some flowers. It was as much of a cinematic cliché as you could get.
When the day finally came upon us, I told the girls that we would go right after school. I wanted to get it out there and gauge their reaction to the idea to see what they wanted to do. My heart was heavy, but I didn’t know what they would be okay with. It lingered on me all day. I couldn’t concentrate or focus to save my life. Yet as much as I was dreading it, I was looking forward to it. Part of me wanted to talk to her and part of me wanted to just get it over with and put this day behind us.
I left work early but before I picked them up, I stopped and got some flowers. Even there though, I was at a loss. What kind of flowers are you supposed to buy for this? Roses? Carnations? Lilies? I had absolutely no clue, so I just told the lady at the counter what I was doing and she handed me some flowers. To be honest, I was so nervous I can’t even remember what they were. On the ride over, I made some small talk but it was really just noise from my mouth – nothing of any substance. Just something to break up the silence.
I’ve driven by the cemetery a lot but I never go in. It was pretty eerie pulling in off the street. We parked and before we got out, I took a deep breath. I looked at the girls and they both did the same. They had this distant, almost empty stare as they looked out the window. I got out of the car and took both of their hands as we walked the short distance to her grave. We were walking pretty gingerly. Not in a tiptoe fashion, but we weren’t exactly striding with confidence either. The tears were welling up in all of us before we even reached her. The cold was pretty spot on as well; the weather felt very reminiscent of death.
When we got to her grave, we all had that uncomfortable awkwardness of not knowing what to do. The girls said little things to her, but you could tell they felt weird. How could you not? You’re talking to ground. It didn’t feel like you were talking to her. It felt very forced, like this was what we were supposed to be doing.
We didn’t stick around long. I don’t know if it was the cold or the discomfort of it all, but we high tailed it out of there pretty quickly. Nobody really lost it or anything because like I said, it didn’t feel real. It was almost like we were actors in a bad play. We got back in the car and I took them to dinner. As we were pulling out of the cemetery, I let out a huge sigh. I was glad that part was over. In honor of Gina, we went to the Village Squire for dinner. That was her favorite place and the four of us went there often.
I did make one major fuck up here; I took Denise with. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. At the time everyone was okay with it, but I should have been smarter and left it as just the girls and me. To be fair, Denise should have been smarter too, and declined my invitation. As you might expect, dinner was served with a Gina hangover. I kept asking the girls if they were okay. Jackie talked about her Mom while Amber bottled it up.
I think that probably had a lot to do with how they had been dealing with everything up until this point. Not only did Jackie talk with Nona quite a bit about her problems (both Gina and other things as well), she always seemed to have this ability to still connect with her mom. She told me more than once that she talks to her Mom and on occasion, she feels like she can see her in her room. Amber just bottles it all up. That night. The day before. Always.
Once we got home the girls got ready and climbed in bed, but as I came in the room, they still had a few things they wanted to talk about. Jackie is very adamant about not forgetting her mom. This day meant a lot to her, then and now. Amber on the other hand tried to block it out and ignore the day.
After we had our talk and our hugs, they snuggled in bed and I was happy to be heading to my own. We dropped Denise off at her house, so I crawled into bed alone just happy to have this day behind me. It’s kind of like a baseball pitcher facing the heart of the Yankee’s lineup; you’re happy to just get through it without too much damage.
As the years go on, I tend to leave it up to the girls as to how we will ‘celebrate’ this day. It turned out they didn’t want to go to the cemetery the next year, so we didn’t. I want to let them be who they are with it and deal with it in their own way. It’s pretty obvious that what works for Jackie doesn’t work for Amber and vice versa. So as the years go by, we almost never go to the cemetery together. I’ve gone a handful of times on my own, typically in the spring, but even then I only pop in for a minute or two.