Page 98 of Love Resurrected
Brad
I stop to buy flowers before I get there. I know, it’s totally cliché to bring a girl flowers, these aren’t even her favorites, but I’m doing it anyway. It’s the gesture that counts. My palm is sweaty, the good one, and just a tad slippery against the steering wheel. I’m nervous, I know that. But this is a necessary step for my future and I’m proud of myself for making it.
The closer I get, the harder my heart pounds. I take some deep breaths and let them out slowly. It’s silly to be this skittish over something so normal. People do this every day, it’s no big deal. But every delay at a stoplight, every slowdown in traffic, has me ready to jump out of my skin.
You got this, man. Calm the fuck down.
I make the final turn, looking up as I arrive.
I guess it’s now or never.
I stop the truck, turn off the ignition, and get out. Then, I slowly make my way up the front walk.
* * *
Kat did not want to be cremated; she was very clear about that. But what she wanted wasn’t yet available in the United States—to be a tree. Have her body buried in an organic biodegradable burial pod where it acts as nutrients for the tree, allowing a person to essentially come full circle in the cycle of life. So, we found the next best thing in a nearby county—an environmentally conscious green cemetery, with no coffins and no gravestones. Over two hundred acres of woods and greenery where land conservation and restoration are integrated with cemetery and burial ritual.
Kat chose a spot—difficult to get to—with a view of the valley beneath. A small engraved boulder is all that remains to mark her place on this earth. I take about ten minutes to hike there, and by the time I arrive, my nerves have calmed and I’m ready to do what needs to be done.
“Hey, babe.” I settle myself down on the ground next to her boulder and lay the flowers on the other side of it. No vase, no plastic wrap or bindings, just the flowers themselves in a small, now scattered bunch. I look around at the green rolling hills and huge trees that surround where she now rests. It gives her a daily view of all that she loved about San Soloman and the surrounding areas.
The only other more perfect spot for Kat would be near the water. We thought, briefly, about cremation and scattering her ashes in the ocean, but she wanted to remain close by. Become a part of the land that literally supported those who she loved. I’m convinced she’s in the wildflowers that grow sporadically around this spot. It makes my heart happy to know that wish for her has come true.
“I figured this conversation needed to be face-to-face, not just me talking aloud somewhere.” I take a minute to situate myself so I’m lying beside her, as if she were still here. “As you know, I met someone. Her name is Tenley. Apparently, we met her at Ethan’s wedding—she’s Sadie’s best friend—but I don’t remember that. I’m sure you do though. You were always better at that stuff than I am.”
A slight breeze kicks up, gently rustling the leaves in the trees, the only sound to be heard aside from my voice. “I like her. A lot. She makes me calm and I need that. You would like her. Hell, you probably liked her when you met her. The two of you are a lot alike. Not in that creepy ‘I’m involved with my dead wife’ kind of way. You don’t look alike at all, but your personalities are similar. Take no shit. Enjoy life. Love fully. Embrace you.”
I laugh at the memory of the little notes Kat would leave for herself around the house, saying these exact things, as a daily reminder of who she was in her struggle to remain. Not remain anything specific, mind you, just remain. Live.
“She’s a redhead. I know, you always thought I had a secret thing for redheads. Fuck, maybe I did. Maybe I do. It doesn’t change the thing I’ll always have for you. I don’t know that I can ever feel again the depth of love that I have for you. According to Nessa, I can, it will just be different. Aww, shit, I haven’t even told you about Nessa, have I?”
I spend the next half hour telling her all about Nessa and her views on life after death of a spouse. As I do, I feel Kat agreeing with her emphatically, cheering me on and pushing me to stretch beyond my comfort zone, thus strengthening my resolve to see if I can’t make a go of it with Tenley. That’s the thing with Kat, her love is never conditional, never selfish—it is always about you being the best you.
Shit, do I have to say her lovewasnever conditional?Wasnever selfish? For me, Kat is still so real, in my memory and in my heart. I have a hard time referring to her in the past tense, because she’s still so prevalent. Relevant. Here.
“So, Nessa says it’s a tribute to you and to the love we share—shared—that I can love again. Because how else would I know to recognize it if not for having experienced it before?” A warm breeze trickles over me and goose bumps rise on my skin. Every time something like this happens, I’m certain it’s Kat reassuring me.
I tell her about Ethan’s baby and the issues with her birth, and about my talk with Remi. “I tried to really see this whole thing from her perspective. But I gotta tell you, babe, it’s difficult sharing the grief over losing you. There’s a part of me that wants to have the monopoly on that. Like I’m the big loser here and no one else can possibly feel that depth of loss. But I realized thinking that way diminishes you. It is such a better representation of you that so many people were so impacted by your loss, and not just me. I don’t want you to feel bad when I say this, but Remi is just as profoundly affected. I don’t think I took the time to acknowledge that before.
“And why would I want it any other way? Why would I want the great love of my lifenotto have impacted others in hers? You know? As morbid as it may be,thatis how you need to be remembered, as having left a deep chasm of longing in many. Because your touch reached that far.Thatis who you are, babe, a woman intensely loved by so many. And who showed me how to share that love.”
I sit up, running my fingers through my hair. It still feels awkward using my left hand for such actions, but it’s all I’ve got. I cross my legs in front of me and rest my elbows on my knees, looking down at Kat’s final resting place. Remembering her face as she smiled, her arms as they embraced me, her words as they washed over me. I stay there for a while enjoying the solitude and the feeling of Kat being close by, only deciding to leave once the sun disappears behind the clouds for longer than a few minutes and the breeze turns cold.
“There will never be another you, Katarina Walker. And the day will come where we will be together again. Until then, I’m honoring the promise I made to you. I will do my damnedest to move on and find happiness. I hope that will be with Tenley. If not, that’s okay too. I’ll keep going. For you. And for me.” I kiss the tips of my fingers and bring them to the boulder that marks her spot.
Katarina Oxana Walker
August 4, 1975 - February 25, 2015
“All you need is love -
but having great tits helps.”
37
Tenley
I stop by the hospital to see Sadie and the baby on my way home from working with Nessa. I head to the gift shop first, to grab some magazines and candy for Sadie and a small stuffed animal for Audrey. At the last second, I also grab a book of crossword puzzles and a new release action thriller for Ethan.
