When folding the towels, I run my hands along the patterned grid. In the transition from a quiet grey to a louder grey, there is a row of loops of thread. Big circled loops cinched above small neat lines. They look like a series of twos.
Happy birthday, baby, I say aloud, as I do every time I see 222 in the world. I didn’t call my late husband “baby” when he was alive, but I’ve found there is at least half a relationship left after death, and that half-life grows still.
Often times when people find out that Dave was only 35 when he passed away, they are filled with a sense of empathetic regret. “There was so much left to do.”
I understand this on a conceptual level, but a primary characteristic of my late husband was that Dave did what he wanted to do as often as humanly possible. He even managed to finish a years-in-progress book series a week before passing away. I’ve never met anyone with life so firmly in their hands.
But I do know there was something on his bucket list: getting to this year. Specifically, February 22nd, 2022.
He and his late mother shared a birthday. 2/22/2022 was going to be an elaborate celebration. He was going to honor her and celebrate himself, and then that was going to be it. Peak birthday achieved. No need for them going forward.
I know this sounds nonsensical, but Dave was a ridiculous man on many levels– and I loved that– and this date has been bouncing around in my head for ages, and somehow now it’s here.
February 22nd, 2022.
I took the day off work, but I’m not certain what to do with it.
Some days call out for something sacred, and I feel about sacred the way I feel about Spanish. I still understand, mostly.
I just don’t speak it anymore.
I am hoping for a slow-start day, a slow-finish day. I bought a mango that will be ripe by then, and I think I’ll eat in the sun that cascades through my new home.
I only moved a few streets away, but it’s like a whole different sun than the very loud one that would barge into my old place and fill up every corner. This one waterfalls and stays in place and hums but never sings.
I can feel all the suns I’ve ever known in every sun I meet. Stitched together like the quiet grays and the loud ones in my towels. Big loops and tidy stitches, twos in every gray, twos in every sun.
At least once a day, I run into the reminder that this universe is the same one that created my love, and let him live. For a short time at least.
I think, on 2/22/22, I’ll just thank it for that, however I can think to do so in the moment. There’s something like a big celebration to be found in small gratitudes. Something like a sacred to be discovered in grey-sun-looped thanks.
I hope it’ll do.

Thud. And love. And all the things.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thud. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m thinking you will celebrate with all the things that will make it special. Make it memorable 😊🌞👍
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for reading 🌸🎂🌞
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pleasure
LikeLiked by 1 person
The idea of a relationship continuing on after death warms my heart. You’re something special, Ra. 💛
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you 🙏🏽💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wish I could have met him. Reading your memories leaves me with admiration and inspiration. Blessing to you, dear friend, and love. If you don’t mind, as today will be an anxious one, I will celebrate his memory and, in so doing, perhaps the universe will smile at the memory of love.
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤️ thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hope for peace in your mind and heart. 💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
I share that birthday
ECHO ECHO
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤️ I love that!
LikeLike
❤️&🫂’s
LikeLike
Happy birthday, Dave.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! 🎂💕
LikeLike
Your writing moves me every time 💛
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for reading 🙂💕
LikeLike
Beautiful. What ever you do will be perfect. Everything is scared. 💕
Alison
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙏🏽 yes, thank you for that reminder. Much needed. 💕
LikeLiked by 1 person
xo
LikeLike
What a beautiful piece of writing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for reading 💕🙏🏽
LikeLike
I think it will do just fine. In fact perfectly. I’m glad you have moved to a place that allows you to feel all the suns. That sounds lovely. Happy Birthday tomorrow to your guy.
LikeLike
I hope you enjoy your day as much as possible. I’m sure Dave is still with you, watching over you. He’s in your spirit posse now. I don’t know if that helps at all. I like to think those who have passed on are still with us. Hugs
LikeLike
This made me tear up-in a good way! I don’t doubt for a second he’s there with you.
LikeLike
Beautifully told. Your writing is quite soulful and a rarity to find around these parts. Thank you for sharing.
Ray
LikeLike
Sending hugs your way, my dinosaur friend.
LikeLike
I know you found a special way to celebrate, even if it nothing other than eating a mango in the sun.
Dave sounded like such a special person, and so are you. Your writing is vulnerable and poetic. Every time I read you, I think to myself: this person was born to write!
Blessings to you, and Dave! ♥
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thud.
LikeLike
Thud Belated thud. And hugs.
LikeLike