Whew! I can’t believe it’s been so long since I have written. I apologize to those of you who follow me religiously, and I promise that I will try to be better going forward. I’ve had some things that set me back a bit and took my attention away from my writing, but I’ve finally gotten things straightened out.
Most of you know that I reached another milestone a couple of weeks ago – it was the second observance of Grubby’s death. During one of my counseling sessions, my therapist suggested that I plan to do something fun that day, even if it was just something small. I set about planning another Mardi Gras party like we did the same weekend last year, complete with jambalaya and a King Cake, which came straight from Belle Chasse thanks to FedEx.
I bought so many decorations that my house looked like a little Cajun Mardi Gras elf threw up! We didn’t even use them all! I let everyone know who was coming that we would do something special to honor Grubby at some point during the party.
As the day approached, I had some tough times, and there were lots of ugly tears. Abby finally began to grieve, and as much as I wished I could take her pain away, I knew that she needed to let the tears fall. I knew that she needed to feel the loss, since she had not previously. She wrote a poem, which I will not share, about her Dad and that day. It ached to read it, but we talked about it later. In the poem, she talked about being afraid to let herself feel, and I asked her why she felt that way. She said that she is finally feeling safe to grieve, that she knows that I will hold her while she does instead of handing Abby her cell phone and telling her not to bother me. She was also afraid of what feeling pain and grief would actually look like if she let herself feel them. She didn’t know how she would grieve, and that scared her.
People began arriving and everyone had some yummy food and lots of good laughter. Grubby would have been right in the middle of it, telling stories and keeping everyone in high spirits. Instead, his memory was alive and well, and waiting for someone to get the baby so he could prank me.
Before we broke out the cake, we broke out the sky lanterns and the Sharpies. Each of us took a lantern and wrote our messages to send to Grubby – he is loved and missed by so many! This helped me to honor him and remember how deeply he touched people’s lives, and not just our own. For Grubby, these messages of love went something like this:
“Grubby, miss you daily, Asshole!! Keep watch over all us crazy ass folks! Love ya!”
“To my brother and golf buddy, give Heaven some Hell. Love ya!”
“Grubby, having a time in your honor tonight. You were my best dog saving buddy. Miss you!”
“Grubby, you made a difference in every life you touched. I’m still pissed at you. Hold it down for the rest of us. We love and miss you every fucking day. Love.”
“May you be at peace. Know that you are missed, and may you lay softly in the arms of the Lord!”
“Grubby, we miss you every day! Not a day that goes by, but it is what it is! Rest easy, Brother, we got it from here!”
“Grubby, I miss you, Brother. Things have not been the same without you! I’ll remember everything you taught me, and I’ll hold the line til we meet again.”
“Grubby, miss you, friend. Thanks for all the laughs and awesome adventures! And thanks for sharing your crab legs. P.S. We’ll have some together again one day.”
“To Dad, I love you so much. I hope you are proud of me, and I will never stop talking about you. I wish to become a cop like you since your death. I hope you give me strength on my journey through life. Please continue sending me little signs telling me you are still here. I love you, and words cannot describe how much I love you. I will strive to be like you. Fly high, Dad. Give Heaven some of your amazing Hell! Love.”
“My Grubby, My love! I think of you all the time – every day and every night! I know you come visit me while I sleep! Don’t ever stop. Life isn’t as colorful without you here – more like shades of gray! My best friend – I know you will be waiting for me ‘And when it’s time… I’ll leave the ocean behind!’ Forever your kukla.”
Now, it was time to launch… I hadn’t done a test run, only bought the ones I did on Amazon because they had higher reviews than others and they were completely biodegradable. We all went out to the empty lot beside the house and began lighting them – one by one, they began to lift and soar, over the house and across the back yard – that is, until mine. In true Grubby fashion, he just had to prank me once again. We lit my lantern and John sent it up – over the fence it went and promptly dropped, making me think it was either going to land on the pool cover or catch one of the loungers on fire. It hovered just beside a lounger, as if turning around for one final look before lifting up and soaring, high above the woods and over the cow pasture down the road, until I could no longer see the light from it. It was magical, watching them all go, and the suggestion was made that we should do them every year…
Anyone who knows about Mardi Gras knows that the King Cake is a tradition, and that there is a little fat, naked baby inside of it somewhere. The person who gets the baby is dubbed “King” or “Queen” and is supposed to host the next party and provide the next King Cake, which will be used to select the next “King” or “Queen”, and so forth. Last year, Dad was the “King”, but since he wasn’t here this year, I hosted in his stead.
I knew where the baby was because our baby wasn’t actually in the cake when we got it. It was laying beside the cake, so I found a little place at the base of the cake and shoved him in there before covering it up with icing. When I served it, I know exactly who got it so I was totally confused as to why I could see two little feet sticking out of the cake on the opposite side. Thanks to Janet’s tomfoolery, the baby was placed back into the cake for me to find. Apparently, I get to do this again next year!
Before the night ended completely, Abby and I played our rather odd rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In” – her on clarinet and me on my horn. Hopefully, next year, we can have Steve on guitar, Mom on ukelele, and Connor on trumpet joining us. But, since I did get the baby, there will be another Mardi Gras hosted by the Krewe of Grubby again and their “Queen” again! Until then, you may refer to me as “Queen Sugar Magnolia”!
I loved and enjoyed reading this one, I am so very glad that Abby got to Grieve about her Dad. Thanks for sharing the things that You share.