I have survived
Thanksgiving day, Nov. 26, 2009, it's the hardest day for me for this year. But I have survived. Extremely saddened as I was by the loss of my wife, my love, I managed to go on. Moon was bright, fog just moved in, it feels like a typical Summer night of San Francisco, only its a lot colder, street is a lot quieter. What is next?
Thanksgiving: a year after I found my love
I cried. Nov 25 was her birthday, the woman who I loved. Nov 26 today is the Thanksgiving day. I cried. I did not want to go anywhere, meet anyone, invite anyone. I quietly bought a 10 pounds turkey from the same place we got last year, I wanted to cook a turkey thanksgiving "dinner" just for us, me and the woman who I loved who is gone. The pix from last year were still on my iphone, along with her beautiful smile, her busy carving the bird after it was perfectly cooked, her busy packing for our trip to Tahoe shortly after. This year, I am all alone. I am duplicating the placement of plates, memorizing the dishes and trying to create similar thanksgiving dinner she cooked for us last year. I did not expect it could feel so sad, I am crying crying and crying, while a day like this for friends and family, all I can do is to regret over the best thing ever happened to me: love, her. A hummingbird is hoovering outside my window, we both know that bird, our neighboring bird, she would call it.
Friday night
It's a cold evening of Friday, two weeks before 2009 Thanksgiving. I find tears in my eyes, thinking about all these years gone by, the only girl who I loved and left me. "Don't stay home and feel sorry about yourself, go out to meet people". Jennie, my newly wed friend told me. It's easier said than done. I thought I had a family, a girl who love me for me, who I love; I told everyone on the street that we held hands bumping into that great news of us getting married, people smiled at us and sweetly said:"what a beautiful couple!". I can tell how they admired us. Waitress led us to the best seat with gorgeous bay bridge view, tourists couldn't help to take a photo for us. There were so many first: My first thanksgiving at my own home with my own girl, my first Tahoe holiday in love, my first walk on the beach of pebble with the woman I love. I love the feeling of getting married with her, I would look at all the singles and think: I am taken. I am no longer available, I am not a gamer: I am a real man now who has a real woman who loves me, I am a real man who loves a real woman. With her I will build a family, starting from renting our new comfortable apartment with our humble city view, to a big better place of our own one day, I will get the right ring on her finger, I will walk with her on the beach in front of our own vacation home, I will walk with her down the alley, officially kiss her in front of her parents, her sister, her friends, I will tell whoever priests that comes along of whatever religion that I love her. I told myself that one day I will replace all the 2nd hand clothes/shoes she got with brand new, fashionable ones, one day I will be able to afford to get the best for the woman that I love.
That day did not come. One day she was gone.
I am left with all the memories, the same streets around me that we used to walk daily, the same light post where she leaned against waiting and waving at me to come back from walk, to take a walk in the park. I can't forget the walk down the steep Laguna street into Japan town, we jumped on our feet, silly smile on our face looking at each other, her light brown/dirty blonde hair waves in the breeze, her gorgeous dark eye lashes, I kept looking at her and think: what did I do to deserve this woman, this perfect woman to love such an ordinary me?
Maybe I was naive, maybe there are so many things that I did not know about her. But, what about feeling right? I felt right with her. Feeling does not count? Do we all have to be logical, listen to our brain instead of our heart?
My wife, my love, the only girl that I ever fall, has gone. She has gone for so long that I almost can't remember what she looks like.
Oh the girl with the high heels and black legging
Day: Nov. 10, 2009
Place: Boom boom room at lower fillmore
It never changes. The red cupped candle light, the never rowdy young professional/student crowd, the never before 10pm crowd. The beat was on, the players on stage mix everything with backyard like jokes, it feels like you are just hanging out with your brothers, and one day, your "brothers" may become national headliner somewhere. I find Jazz beats go well with young women's high heels and leggings, it's the first time I appreciate high heels, they are the way she moves, to the right, left, with her chin rise, she throws aimless glimpse, her silk black skirt swings with her hips, forming fluid of curves, beating the night, yes, beating the night like waves to the shoreline. Oh the girl with the high heels and black legging.
