I had the strangest feeling
Your world’s not all it seems
So tired of misconceiving
What else this could’ve been…
(Believe~Mumford and Sons)
When I picked Chris up from his apartment for the last time, back in June 2015, this song was popular. There’s a line that goes, “This is never gonna go our way/if I’m gonna have to guess what’s on your mind.” I remember taking his hand across the console and giving it a squeeze, singing those lyrics to him. His mouth stayed closed.
That was it–the moment that might have changed things. There were other moments, but this was the first, the “heading it off at the pass” moment. If he had spoken. If I had pushed just a little harder. But he didn’t. I didn’t.
I’ve worn a ring ever since he died–a mourning ring. Very Victorian. The inscription reads, “If love could have saved you, you’d have lived forever.” I’ve been thinking, lately, that maybe it’s not such a good idea to wear it all the time, this constant reminder of my deepest sorrow. Yesterday, I took it off along with my wedding rings to shower, and forgot to put them back on. When I went to get them this morning, the wedding rings were there but the mourning ring wasn’t. I have no idea what happened to it, but I’m going to believe Chris took it and hid it away.
I had a thought the other day, watching my daughter with her kids. In her, I see me–but the the me I wish I’d been for her. Was I? It’s so hard to remember what was and what I hope was. I never knew what the word “ferocious” truly meant until her. She was my first, and I was so young. We grew up together, she and I. Maybe I wasn’t the me I wish I’d been for her, but at least she helped me become her.