Slow, Slow, Slowly

It seeped out of me. Slow, slow, slowly. I don’t know if it took days or hours or months. All I know is I felt it leaving my body like someone was pulling my innards out thru my chest. Like a magician pulling bananas out of his hat. I finally felt it all leave. I felt me leave.

I sat in a chair across the street. The red, white, & black flannel pants I was wearing were too hot for September. They made my skin itch. They were 4 sizes too big, but were still suffocating. It was like my clothes were shrinking & having a mind of their own. They were slowly drowning me in my own sweat.

My flip-flops were too blue against the dirt & grass where I was setting. I couldn’t look at them, but I couldn’t look away either. Those Old Navy sandals were my whole world for 5 minutes… 15 minutes… more.

The humidity pressed down on me like a car being crushed. I wasn’t sure how to do anything but watch my shoes. I had seeped out of me, remember? There was nothing left in my body. It was an empty shell left behind by a hermit crab.

There was a never ending cigarette in my hand. I can’t tell you how it stayed lit or how many I actually smoked. The air around me looked like the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland. If there was ever a day that I wanted cancer so I could die, it was that day.

All the noises were too loud, but I couldn’t understand anything. Like a rock concert. You hear it all, but nothing makes sense. Or the panic of a fire alarm. You see what’s going on, but you don't comprehend. All the fire drills in the world don't prepare you to watch all your stuff burn.

This day I wasn’t watching stuff burn, but my life was destroyed just the same. I watched a skinny old man who looked like Mr. Rogers carry a small blanket wrapped bundle out of my house. To anyone watching it would’ve been innocuous.

Until you saw the background. It looked like a Hollywood movie set for an action movie. Two fire trucks, 7 or 8 cop cars, 2 undercovers, and the coroner’s van. I didn’t know Mr. Rogers twin, but I will never forget his face. Or watching him carry his bundle to the van. That innocuous bundle he carried was my daughter. My youngest baby. The angel God has sent me in the Middle of all the testosterone I lived with. She was a star that was just beginning to shine, and a flower budding, ready to blossom.

I couldn’t believe she was gone. Her life was snuffed out like a blown out candle. Her life was so short & so over. I couldn’t believe it. All I could see was my blue sandals. It was my greatest fear come true, & yet I couldn't’ think a single thought. Every scent, sound, touch,signt was too intense, too bright. But how could that be when my star was gone?

I still don’t feel like me. The me I was left. When Natalie drew her last breath. I’m becoming a new me now. Slow, slow, slowly.