Saturday, April 14, 2012

In my heart

Today was the day.

We drove to the funeral home to pick up Jesse's ashes.

I didn't want to wake up this morning but at the same time I was anxious to "see" him and bring him home. The drive to the funeral home is always hard. I have made that drive a few times now. The chapel and the cemetery is a familiar place with memories of Jesse, Isis and myself. It is our old neighborhood. Piedmont ave is one of our favorite local haunts. Plenty of restaurants to pick from and of course our favorite creamery, Fentons, is there.

The last time Jesse and I went to Fentons...well...we took a detour after one of our birthing classes at the hospital before coming home. I was a little over eight months pregnant and had a major craving for chocolate milkshake and fries. Yum! But before we drove there, Jesse insisted that he take me to the vista point on Grizzly Peak, in the hills of Berkeley, since I had never seen the city in the night from there. It was beautiful. We stood there for a while, hugging each other, watching the shimmering lights at a distance...excited about our life, our dreams for Isis, and eagerly awaiting Maya's arrival. 

Then we drove to Fenton's for our fries and milkshake. We held hands and talked. People asked us when I was due and Jesse would loudly announce the due date and Maya's full name...Maya Rose Meenakshi Moorkoth Phelps. People's reactions were priceless. He was so proud...a proud daddy!

Driving to the funeral home is a reminder of all those memories. Right now those memories are painful and I want to avoid them.

I held myself together fairly well until we got to the funeral home and we were asked to wait for the process to unfold. I began crying then. It felt like a part of this journey was coming to an end. We were ushered into the same room where we had once seen his body not too long ago. As the door opened, I had memories of that day come flooding back to me.

His face.
The way he lay there...still, peaceful, handsome, soft. 

My sweet Jesse.

The bronze colored boxes stared at us today. The heart shaped urn that I had picked out, also sat there. 

We cried.

I requested for a moment alone with my Jesse. For the first time since his death, I was alone...with him, with my thoughts, my tears, and my guilt. I whispered to him. I said I was sorry for not taking him to the ER, sorry for picking that very night to catch up on my sleep in the guest bedroom for a few hours, sorry for not laying next to him, sorry for finding him after it was a little too late, sorry that he wasn't with me today and sorry that he wasn't going to be with me tomorrow. I also whispered to him to give me the strength to move on and to watch over me and the kids and to always stay with me. I whispered that over and over again.

Stay with me Jess...just stay with me, please!

I walked over...touched the boxes and the heart and at that moment, I was able to let go of a lot of pain that I had held inside. 

But there is still so much much pain...some of which I will hold on to until my last breath.

One of things that Jesse taught me was to live for the moment. So for now, he is back home. He is with me and he is staying with me.
Yes! A part of the journey has come to an end. 
I still have a long way to go, but Jesse is walking right beside me, holding my hand.

We always held hands.

1 comment:

  1. Each post is so emotional and I'm always stuck for words. Your girls will be proud of you...Jesse too...