Spaghetti and Meatballs

Tonight I fixed spaghetti and meatballs. A Denise staple. Surely what she would have fixed tonight with all of us here. We were all here, all of us, Erik and the girls and Harold. It wasn't just like hers, it never will be. But it was good and it brought a good night. The grandkids filled the house with laughter, Harold was smiling surrounded by his family. And a peace came over me. For the first time, I felt like we can all do this. I don't think a single person in the room didn't think about the fact that Denise wasn't physically here, but we were OK. Tonight she smiled. This is what she would want. How she would want us to be.

Today I emptied her closet. Part of clothes going back with me to make quilts, the other part Harold and I took to an organization that tries to get women back on their feet. That was what she would have wanted, not for it to stay here. It never would have been easier to do, so while the wound is fresh we needed to do it to help us all heal. At least me. To me it was my way to close a door, to take care of things for her. To take care of Harold.

And today, instead of Monday as expected, we picked her up. Tomorrow we will all go as a family to her favorite spot to spread her ashes. I feel so blessed to be able to be here for that and for the whole family to be together to do it. This is something WE must do, together.

So today, from one little spaghetti dinner, I know we will all be OK. It is still going to sting and hurt like hell, but we will all smile and laugh again, together. She will forever be not just in a chair, but filling the room. I know she is here, I know she stands by me, that she will show me the way. She will never be forgotten.