I was fine when I woke up this morning.
Fine, that is, other than been plagued by this bug that’s been going back and forth in my family.
No, I was talking about the fact that I woke up okay.
I took something for this bug, then, as I do every morning, I lit a candle in front of a picture of Andrew that sits on the little Altar in my room.
I do this every morning. When the first candle goes out, I light another one, and then another one, until I go to bed, then, when the last candle burns out I don’t light another one until morning.
After lighting the first candle of the day, I turned around I saw Zoe, Andrew’s cat, (perennially parked on my bed), staring intently at another of Andrew’s pictures in my room.
It is a picture of Andrew when he was seventeen, dressed in his Tux for his Junior Prom.
When I first asked him, he told me that he wasn’t going to go.
But a couple of weeks later he was talking about going.
“You changed your mind? How come?” I asked him, intrigued.
“Well, you see…” he often started a sentence like this when… when he started like this. “This girl, Anastasia, gave me a chocolate Reese’s, so I asked her if she wanted to go to the Prom with me and she said yes.”
I was really pleased. My son was going to the Prom with a pretty girl, and he was looking forward to it.
I remember everything about that day. Andrew collecting the flower corsage he had ordered at the florist, putting it in the fridge when he brought it home. I remember him getting dressed, his father helping him with his bow tie. His father adored him. He was so proud of everything about him.
So many memories… so many sweet memories…
And now I’ve joined Zoe staring at Andrew’s picture on the wall. Zoe’s eyes are moist, and I am crying my eyes out.
Look at his picture for yourself, and then tell me if this is a boy who should be dead. DEAD BY HIS OWN HAND!
He should be here, excited about this being his last year of college. Looking forward to graduating in May. Looking forward to going to China.
He should be here, and Zoe and I shouldn’t be staring at his picture on the wall.
Oh Andrew, my sweet, sweet Andrew… I was fine when I woke up, and now I am so miserable. I feel such pain today.