I was putting away Nina’s milk this evening, and for good measure thought to check the expiration date at the bottom of the can. There it was, ‘Manufacturing Date: 07.13.2007. Expiration Date: 07.13.2010.’ Nothing in the fourteen months that have elapsed, in the ‘progress’ I have made in coping with your absence, nothing still prevents me from giving pause when faced with such reminders. 07.13.2007. How ironic to be purchasing milk ‘born‘ on the very day you left. Ironic indeed.
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Tomorrow Avi will be taking part in the ceremony I am quite sure you would have wanted to be part of. After years of toiling for us, of patiently supporting us as we chose our vocations (almost all of us invariably going the long route), here it is, the final hurrah. The oath taking of the very last one. Finally, a bow was yours and Mai’s for the taking. And yet sadly it is not to be. I can still remember mine, now eight years ago. I remember how proud you looked, how you quietly watched as we went about with the ceremony. You were careful to keep your distance in the way that only you would think of doing. It was my moment after all. It was enough for you to sit back and watch me achieve my dreams. I had wanted that for Avi. I had wanted her to feel the radiance that emanated from you and Mai whenever we accomplished what we could. I had wanted her to see that smile you bestowed upon us when we did things right, when we made you feel that all your sacrifices, all the hard work you did, all your personal dreams you gave up, were worth it. Ah yes, fourteen months to the day and I still cannot run out of things to wish for. Despite it all I know you would somehow be with Avi tomorrow – all your life you have taught us how much the will and the human spirit can drive one to accomplish things far beyond one’s imaginings. If there is a way for you to be with us tomorrow, I have absolutely no doubt that you will find it.
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Fourteen months and I am still adrift in the open sea. As the tides waves carry me where they may, I at times catch a glimpse of land and feel but a glimmer of hope. I know I will reach it eventually, but for now I am content enough to have survived as I have thus far.
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I think of you each and every day and miss you immensely.