We write about widowhood as we live it. Together we examine the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of life as a widowed person. The views expressed here are those held by each individual author. We take no credit for their brillance; we just provide them with a forum for expressing their widowed journey in words that are uniquely their own.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
hawaiian wedding part one
on april 16th,
i flew to the
island of oahu
with madeline.
we were there to
celebrate the wedding of
one of
liz’s
best friends in
the whole wide world,
maleeda.
all of her best
friends from college
were there.
i was honored to
be invited,
but i anticipated it
being a tough trip.
we arrived and i
was instantly transported
back in time.
i had been
here before.
we
had been here before.
shit.
now…
i knew
that i had taken
five trips to
hawaii with
liz,
but i can never
remember which
island is which,
and i was unsure
that i had ever
been to this one,
that is,
until i hit
that baggage claim area.
it was a few
years ago.
liz
was working on oahu,
and instead of
flying home to
see me for my birthday,
she flew me to
her.
maddy and i
jumped in a cab
and the memories
continued to kick
me in the stomach.
i remembered the highway,
i remembered the street
lined with high-end shops.
i remembered the
hotels along the beach.
and as we pulled
into the driveway
of the hotel i had
chosen online,
i looked across the
street and
saw the hotel
we
stayed in all
of those years ago.
fuck.
maddy and i went up
to our room.
a corner room,
looking out at that
other hotel
from my past.
i remember us standing
on the balcony
of that hotel,
i even have
two photos
of the moment,
but i won’t share them.
liz’s
eyes were closed
in both of them
(this was in my pre-digital slr camera days so my timing often sucked)
and i can just
hear her telling
me to delete the photos.
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My eyes are never open in pictures even with digital technology. My husband has tons of unshareable photos of me.
ReplyDeleteI haven't ever been back to a place my late husband and I traveled to, so I don't know what that would be like, but I have been back to the city where we lived. Took our daughter to the park near our old home and ran into the couple who bought our house. They have a baby now. A little boy. I imagine him in the blue room with stars on the wall that my late husband thought would be perfect for the son we never ended up having.
Ah, memories. It's not them so much but the places they lead you.