A New Day

 November 8

One year and 6 months "after"

A new day has come…

I woke up this morning like every other day.

I went to the closet and selected from all the shirts hanging in there the shirt I wore the day/night/morning that my husband breathed his final breath. I looked at it for about a second and had a weird thought of, I wonder if today will be the day his ashes will come in the mail.

Why? I don’t know. Whatever it was just compelled me to put it on. My mom called it the word I’ve always used but never said to her – feelings. I went ahead and put it on and didn’t think another thing about it until several hours later.

Fast forward to my regular work weekday. Meetings, domestics, etc. At around 1:30, I took my lunch which involved me taking a nap instead of actually eating.

I’ve still not eaten.

Close to the end of my “lunch”, my phone started ringing and I almost didn’t look at it or answer it, but again, a compelling thing had me pick it up and see who was calling me at 2:11 PM EST and saw the words University of South Alabama.

Thud. Another thing I “knew” was going to happen before it did.

I answered and the voice on the other end of the phone asked if I was Melissa – Yes.

This is so and so from the Anatomical Body Donation program.

Me – another thud.

She went on to say that they’d completed their study with my deceased husband who had asked that his body be donated to science after he died in the hopes that someone, somewhere, somehow could hopefully find some answers to cancer and helping prevent/heal/resolve it. Anything, even miniscule.

She continued in the conversation and said they’d just cremated his remains at which point, I kind of lost my ability to contain my eyes from watering profusely and from keeping my voice from cracking uncontrollably. The finality of it was like being in a car rolling at about 100 mph, no seatbelt and suddenly you are violently stopped by the goddamn wall that popped up in front of you like a stupid cartoon that you laugh at when you’re a kid and know no better at that age about pain and despair.

She went on to say that she needed to verify my address and be present to sign as they were packaging up his remains, his ashes, to mail to me.

Another thud.

Stupidly, I felt, this is so fucking final. I mean, it was final literally a year and six months ago, but to have to “go through it again” hurt so much that I can’t describe it.

It is closure and I need it. I need the closure of this chapter of life, and I’ll finally have it.

I should have the end part of his life back home with me this coming Monday after which some trips need to be planned; some excursions to places he adored and treasured. Camping spots, motorcycle destinations he loved and visited. For now…. I’m having a toast to the person he was.