Yesterday, just in case you didn't know, was Death Day. Last year I posted a movie quote on my Facebook status which included a repetitive string of bad words. Someone asked me what was wrong, and it irritated me to have to explain to them that it was Death Day.
Death Day, as we have come to call it, is the day our Mother, Wife, Sister and Friend, Reba Jean Roark, left this world.
I talked to Dad earlier this week and he asked me how I was doing. I said I was fine, though school and kids had been running me ragged.
"So I guess you know what this week is," he'd said.
"Yeah," was my reply, "Death Day."
He was just wondering if I was dealing with it well. I have been too busy to wallow in grief.
"I'm scheduling a mental breakdown for 4 o'clock," I told him.
"Today?" he asked. I laughed.
"No, Saturday. And then Sunday I plan to burst into uncontrollable fits of sobs at various points throughout the day," I chuckled as I spoke into the phone.
We laughed a little about it. And talked about putting flowers from the garden on her grave that day. I told him I had planned to just order something, since I wouldn't be able to come and visit, but Dad said something that makes me wonder if I learned anything at all from her:
"You know, and your Mother would tell you if she were standing right here, that if you have any extra money that you ought to spend it on those kids."
"Well, I guess we could go Death Day shopping," I said. He was right, of course.
Dad was thinking of picking flowers from the garden to take over to her grave. I asked him, if it was blooming, would he include one of the yellow English Tea roses from the bush Jamie and I bought her for Mother's Day years before? He said that he would, and Sarah sent me pictures of the beautiful bouquet they had fixed, laid by the bench that is her grave marker.
Later, I told Amy about my grieving schedule. She thought it was funny, too.
Happy Mother's Day.
"I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom, for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
I see skies of blue, and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces, of people going by
I see friends shaking hands, sayin', "How do you do?"
They're really sayin', "I love you"
I hear babies cry in', I watch them grow
They'll learn much more, than I'll ever know
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Yes, I think to myself
What a wonderful world
Oh yeah"
This was one of Mom's favorite songs.
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