Page 34 of Mind Pucked

Lyla is everywhere I look, and a new woman would pick up on it immediately. I know it would make us both uncomfortable.

As I pick up some old bills that I paid online months ago, I remember something I read once about getting rid of things. It said that if the thought of letting it go made me sick to my stomach, maybe it wasn’t time yet. However, if I could wrap my head around it and didn’t have such a visceral reaction, maybe the time had come to let it go.

The overwhelming guilt I once felt about letting anything go of anything with Lyla’s name on it has lessened considerably. I guess enough time has passed that I can recognize that getting rid of some old bills doesn’t mean I love her any less.

They’re just bills. I scoop them up and put them in a pile to be thrown away.

Next I find a copy of our marriage certificate and the appraisal for the wedding ring I bought her.

My heart sinks as I read over the details of our union in black ink. This is the type of sentimental item that does make me sick to think of getting rid of, so I place it in a keep pile.

I try to hold back the tears as snippets of our wedding day flash in front of my eyes. The way she smiled that day is a shocking contrast against the memory of her lifeless body after the crash. I curse my brain for hanging on to the negative memories just as fiercely as the good.

“Hi, Daddy,” I hear a sweet little voice say.

I turn to find Hayden in the doorway with a Barbie doll.

“Hey, munchkin, what are you up to? I thought you were playing.”

“I was,” she confirms, “but I don’t feel like playing all alone anymore.”

“Fair enough,” I say. It’s ironic in a way, because that’s exactly what life has been like since Lyla left. At some point, it gets tiring going at it alone.

She takes a few steps toward me and notices the piles I have going.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

She sits down on her knees and observes the piles as she twists the Barbie doll’s head around and around and around. There’s no great way to explain things to her, as I know she’s young and might not fully understand. I owe it to her to try though.

“I’m deciding what of Mommy’s we should keep and what of Mommy’s we can say goodbye to.”

“But why do you have to say goodbye to any of it?”

“Well…I guess when we get rid of old things that don’t have any real meaning anymore, we can make room for newer things. And we can keep the things that make us smile forever and ever.”

I decide on a few more things for the toss pile. It’s nothing very important, just some receipts, a cafeteria lunch card from her old job, and some flyers she’d printed off for a bake sale. I find a picture of her at the park with Hayden and we both light up at the sight of it.

I thought I had gathered most of the pictures up after the funeral to put in an album, but this one must have snuck through. Hayden is all smiles on the baby swing, and Lyla looks as beautiful as ever, her hair wild from a gust of wind.

Hayden points her finger at the picture. “Look! We’re at the park!”

“Your mom loved taking you to the park…any time she got to spend with you was so special. Think we should put this in the keep pile?”

Hayden flashes a smile with all her cute baby teeth showing and gives me a big thumbs up.

“Alright then…and what do you say about going to the park right now?”

Hayden flings Barbie from her hands and claps. “Can we? Now?”

I smile and run my fingers through the top of her hair. “You bet.”

Hayden is so excited about the park, but I want to spoil her extra today. Sometimes I wonder if I go overboard, but I can’t help it. I always want her to know how loved she is.

Plus, I’m afraid that having talks about her mom might bring on some feelings of sadness. I always want to balance the sad feelings about her mom being gone with some good feelings.

The local creamery is only a few minutes up the road and serves the most delicious homemade ice cream, and we stop in for a cone. Hayden looks adorable covered in chocolate ice cream with chocolate sprinkles. It’s dripping down her chin and she can hardly keep up with it melting away.

I take the ice cream cone from her and lick the sides a little bit to help her keep it under control. I take some napkins and clean her up as she giggles. It’s in these little moments when I wish more than anything that Lyla could be here.

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