School starts tomorrow. Maki and I are ready. Not so sure about the little one who, for the past few weeks, covers her ears and shouts “I don’t want to hear it” anytime I mention the word school. That said, it was probably the best summer we have had as a family. Maki stayed in California for the first time ever, which allowed us to relax in and out of each other’s schedules in a way that we can never do during the school year. We had a lot of fun: art lessons with Justine’s friends and band practice with Maki’s, visiting cousins from seemingly everywhere, getting to the beach to escape the heat, and way too many cartoons.  Still its going to be a shock to all of us at 6.45 tomorrow morning. Cold Turkey.

Earlier today, a friend of mine mentioned that she knew it was a “big week” ahead for us, and was I ok? I assumed she meant summer ending and school starting. “Oh yes, it will be fine. I thought I’d have the house clean and supplies bought and organized, but I think this year we are just going to roll into it, and straighten up as the week goes on and we are forced to accept its ” (This is the beauty of Public School.) She gently laughed and told me that she meant Vernon’s passing-anniversary, which falls this next Friday. Then I realized how it hadn’t come to mind.  I mean, I think of it a little here and there, maybe even every day for the past couple of weeks, but its a thought that soon disappears behind other thoughts, more current thoughts, like whatever is happening right now. I really didn’t expect to be so nonchalant about this year’s moment.  As I’ve said before, last year’s grief seemed to hit so hard for most of August and September. I expected to at least have my guard up. But strangely, that hasn’t been necessary yet.

What a strange thing to not feel so sad about the sad things. Yes, of course it is still sad…its a sad story. But when I talk about him, I feel like I’m speaking from a distance now, another story that happened among many other stories in my life. Yes, it was the absolute worst one, and it was horrible and so unfair, but with a little time, it sort of blends into the collection of books in my body’s library.  Again, let me stress it was a really transformative, important book. But now with a few smaller but still-interesting books under my belt, my imagination has blossomed, and I’m fascinated by the prospect of new stories, new pages, new voices.

I wonder if this has something to do with feeling like I was married twice. I was married to Vernon v.1 for 7.5 years, and I was married to Vernon v.2 for another two and a half. It mixes up, sometimes I miss the connection I had with the first one, but it seems so long ago now since he was here, I have to grasp the air to remember what that was.  And I’m grateful to the second version in all his awkward helplessness because he taught me about a deeper substance of love that was in me somewhere after all. So it’s likely in the rest of you too, hidden away, a mysterious, beautiful strength you find when you need it (but possibly only then.)

I loved both of him. And both of him loved me. Both of him loved the children (whether they understand that yet or not.) That is a lot of love to experience. Now we know that we can live well without him too. All that love doesn’t just disappear though: it moves in my relationship with the kids, in whom I see more of their dad all the time. It moves in their connection with each other. I find I can even offer it to myself. It’s a strange kind of physics how our hearts divide and expand and keep going and giving regardless. This year, at this time, I am more interested in growth than grief. I’m sure he’d be happy with that. He’d be proud of us no matter what.

I’m especially grateful to have his two children in my life, these young fellow travelers, my anchors to the present…and I’m also happy to send them back to school tomorrow. 🙂

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PS I also reserve the right to feel totally sad again whenever the grief comes next. I understand it never fully goes away and can sneak up on a person. The waves are rarely as strong as they were in the first year, and much of the fog as lifted. Its good to not feel defined by loss.