Torching the To-Do List

This morning I woke with the remnants of a dream in my head. As I fed animals and brewed coffee, I giggled at the Abba performance that’d been staged by long-forgotten acquaintances during my dream. Cute, but I deemed it unworthy of an entry in my fancy-schmancy dream journal.

Instead, I wrote out the plan for the day. The list was modest, only six or seven things to complete before wine-time and pajamas. I have many interesting projects to continue; producing audiobook, incorporating developmental edits into a manuscript, moving forward on a sequel to BIRCH, so why was I feeling meh?

As I stood on the treadmill, willing my finger to hit the Start button, I stepped down. I didn’t want to clock my 2.5 miles. I couldn’t.

I looked out the picture windows that face the front yard and saw the reedy rose stems, tall and bare. I’d been meaning to prune them in half before Spring. I streamed music and found pruning shears in the garage, then snipped and tidied. A song by Weyes Blood called Andromeda came on. I turned up the volume and listened, restarting the song three times to memorize the opening strains. “Treat me right. I’m still a good man’s daughter. Let me in if I break and be quiet if I shatter.”

The lyrics hit me square in the ribs, rattling lose understanding in my thick skull. Today is a missing-Gary-Riley-day. I kneeled in the grass, grateful I hadn’t made progress on the roses or else the neighbors might’ve seen me, and bawled. I played the song again, wiping my nose on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I resumed trimming and then Dedicated to the One I Love, by The Mamas & Papas played. I wasn’t a fan of them when my father was alive, but boy have I come to appreciate them since his passing. The lyrics felt like Dad whispering in my ear;

While I'm far away from you, my baby
I know it's hard for you, my baby
Because it's hard for me, my baby
And the darkest hour is just before dawn -

Each night before you go to bed, my baby
Whisper a little prayer for me my baby
And tell all the stars above
This is dedicated to the one I love

Love can never be exactly like we want it to be
I could be satisfied knowing you love me
There's one thing I want you to do especially for me -
And it's something that everybody needs

While I'm far away from you, my baby
Whisper a little prayer for me, my baby
Because it's hard for me, my baby
And the darkest hour is just before dawn

If there's one thing I want you to do especially for me
Then it's something that everybody needs...

Each night before you go to bed, my baby
Whisper a little prayer for me, my baby
And tell all the stars above -
This is dedicated to the one I love

More music, more revelations and soon my roses were perfect. I tossed the bag of compost over the wall and only then noticed my hands, bloody. I hadn’t felt the thorns tearing through my skin. If anything, in comparison to my grief, it’d been a relief.

I went inside and crossed out all the items on my list. As I showered, I decided to do whatever the hell I wanted with the day.

Dressed, hair spiffy, I put on the cool sweatshirt designed by my eldest, Nora, and drove to Target. I walked up and down aisles and settled on a set of flowered sheets for the bed, a fresh set of white towels for the master bathroom, and a box of dog biscuits for Cooper whom I’d traumatized with my morning tears. As the cashier totaled my purchases, she said the groundhog said we were in for six more weeks of winter. I broke the news to her, that the official groundhog had died the day before and we both laughed.

“What the hell kind of omen is THAT?” she guffawed.

“Good thing we’ve all developed a dark sense of humor these last two years,” I added.

When I left the parking lot, my heart was still tender for Dad, but I also learned that angels sometimes come in the form of a kind, wonderful human behind a counter.

As for six weeks more of winter? Well, to quote Bo Burnham in All Eyes on Me, “You say the whole world’s ending? Honey, it already did.”  I’ve survived the death of my best friend, surely I can handle forty-two more days of cold.

As always, I love you. I hope if you are going through hurts you take solace knowing I am right there with you. I see you. I love love love you, on all days, good, bad, and ugly. <3 Jenn

Here’s the link to Andromeda by Weyes Blood;

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