But Today...Today...She

Little ideas for writing have been dancing through my head all day. So many things to say, so many things going on. Rather than choose anything I just sat on the couch and played with my iPad (engraved with my name!) for a couple of hours.

Mostly I want to write about the amazing lunch I had. My colleague and I had planned to go last week but, you know, snow so we postponed. She'd been on a date to this noodle shop and she was kind enough to share. Spur of the moment we decided to go today. I ordered a miso based noodle soup with shrimp and pork and rice balls and two kinds of tofu and some other things I've forgotten. The noodles were the perfect texture and delicious and the cabbage was fantastic and I could not stop eating it. O had most of the same ingredients but done up in a much spicier broth. It took chopsticks, a big wooden soup spoon and special techniques to eat it all. We got miso on O's glasses and my Blackberry.

The thing is, it's the 3rd of January. It's the day that Mrs. X died. I should write something about her. I want to write that too, but...what?

I don't know if she liked noodles but I'm pretty sure she would have loved to hear about my deep love of my noodly lunch. I know she would have loved that Steph and I rode up north for Christmas together with our dogs. She would have loved Steph's roly poly Charlie and his laid back, sporty traveler attitude. She wouldn't have been mad that I missed our annual breakfast. She would have laughed uproariously at my unparking mishap. She would have liked my caroling story. She would have known all the lyrics to the obscure carols I learned.

I've been thinking about her for about a month, as you do when you know the deathiversary is coming up. Driving around town at Christmas I remembered walking to her funeral. I kept thinking about how she held my hand while we walked into the living room the last time we visited. But I didn't write anything down.

That is, until about 5 minutes ago when I wrote 2 lines and burst into tears. 'Cause I still miss the hell out of her and Christmas, while lovely and calm and truly wonderful this year (you know, until the top speed snow-motivated departure), will never be the same without her.

I love you, Mrs. X, wherever you may be. Thank you for everything.