Oil, Sweat and Tears
The nurse advised us that swaddling our baby can help give them a sense of safety and calm. And so, I learned to bundle my baby well. Alexandra had 2 baby blankets. Lately, without my consent, my feet will take me to the foot of Alexandra’s bed and I pick up those blankets.
The room is still now. No flurry of project activity, no clothes piling up at the closet door, no robot parts everywhere, no trapped cat under the sheets, … no anything.
Maybe she’ll just come walking breezily in. God, I miss you.
Organized, gigantic desk. Two traveling boxes ready for that trip to Paris. A gently, chaotic memory board with a picture of her and a friend. And, in the picture, you can see it, Alexandra’s eyes are wild! Do you see it too? She looks cold, excited, and alive.
I bury my face into the baby blankets and take a deep breath. Alexandra is usually in here somewhere. But, it has been 11 months. I search. It’s faint but you can find her if you search long enough.
She’s fading though.
So, I bunch up the blankets and lie down with them behind my head, over her flat, old pillow and think about how she is fading and how life has to move forward,
Even when you don’t want it to.
Tears come,
Even when you don’t want them to.
I pull out her pillow from under the comforter and bury my face deep and cry hard.
Oh pillow, Oh pillow
A festival of oil, sweat and tears
I breathe her in. Alexandra is here. She is here right now! I can smell her. I can feel her. We are dancing. I can feel her strong shoulders. We are hiking up Wachusett. We are in the back yard. We are swimming. We are running. We are playing guitar. We are in the car. We are!
A festival of oil, sweat and tears!
Oh pillow, Oh pillow
the burden you have held!
You have been here this whole time! You’ve absorbed so many tears, so many restless nights of sweat from a troubled-mind. You were there, you took the pen straight-on and the vitriol it spewed. You have endured 200+ late night pages of pure suffering and confusion.
Oh pillow. Oh pillow.
Thou art a motley fool!
You've stolen the currency of my pain and lured me to a brief respite of joy and love. Shame to you!
To grief I fall, but from greater heights, whence I came."
How wicked thou art!
I miss you so much Alexandra.
