It also marked the week we lost Hunter.
Hunter’s birthday was different.That, I celebrated.Every year I insisted we remember his life and what he meant to all of us.
But his death-day, I spent alone.
I’d never been comfortable sharing my feelings.I took after my dad in that way, hiding my heart behind jokes and smiles.
But not on that day.On that day my defenses crumbled under the weight of my grief.There was no hiding it.Not even from myself.
Mom never worked on that day.
Hawkley disappeared off the face of the earth.
Dad stayed in his workshop.The resort could burn to the ground, and he wouldn’t budge.
And me?
I walked the beach and climbed the bluffs, running as far away from civilization as I could, needing to be alone at the time he died.As alone as he was.Only once darkness fell did I return home.No matter the weather.
In fact, I preferred the years it rained like a bitch the entire day.
The years where the sun shone brightly, when the earth preened with one of those September days that lured everyone back to the beach for one final swim?Those were the worst.Because Hunter was the one who would have dragged all of us out there.
Every other day of the year, I played my game, imagining Hunter was always just around the corner.But on that day, unable to pretend, he was never further away.
As August gave way to September, that date hovered over me like a specter.
This year was no different.
The day before the barbecue, the pressure cooker of grief and guilt mounting, I walked the beach for hours to clear my head.Only then could I deal with everyone and everything else in my life.
Returning home Sunday night, utterly exhausted from the fresh air, I fell into a blessedly dreamless sleep.
When I woke, I was able to put my grief aside.
I arrived early with three quarts of gourmet ice cream from Mary Lou’s in a bag and my grandma’s famous potato salad tucked under my arm in a large bowl.This one event, we all brought something.
I laughed when Hawkley showed up with his usual offering, a bag of fresh bread from Beach Buns, while Noelle brought a cake from Cake Me Away.
I squealed.“Andrea made you a cake?She told me she couldn’t fit me in at such short notice!”
Noelle laughed.“That’s because she knew I had you covered.”
My mom came up beside us, tipping her chin up to kiss Noelle’s cheek.“Hello, lamb.How are you?”
Noelle smiled down at my mom.“Hi, Lou.I’m…great, actually.”
The relationship Noelle shared with my mom served as a perpetually bittersweet reminder.When we lost Christine, I lost my confidante.But Noelle lost her mother.Seeing her with mine never failed to remind me of what I, too, would one day lose.
I could not imagine that.
“Where’s the baby?”Mom asked with bright eyes.
“Aha,” Noelle teased, “the real reason you came over.”Jerking her chin in my dad’s direction, she said, “Dan stole him from Hawk as soon as we got here.”
“Well,” Mom grinned, backing away theatrically.“I’ll just leave you two girls to chat while I go check on Dan and the baby.”
“I see where you get your drama from,” Noelle teased.
