First of May

First of May. I remembered my second sister told me at the funeral, “Next time, it is not hard for you to remember the date because it is Labour Day.” And truly, it is so easy to remember First of May. Everyone has a holiday the day you died.

Maybe if it is not first of May, I will have an easier time to forget. But then, it will be unfair to you if I forget. So, here it is, the first of May. Seven years after. I have moved on, done a lot, changed a lot, older a lot, religious a lot.

I could spend it by going for the 7 am mass and have a good cry. Or I could just treat it as another day. I think I will do just that. Another day. I guess God is tired of my questioning so I will give God a break. It is Labour Day and I think God ought to have a day of rest too, huh?

So, yeah, it is another day. But I will just squeeze in one photo taken on the 2nd of May, 2002. Your brothers have grown so much. Your father hasn’t really grown older. Men! I hate that. What have I fed him that makes him age slower than me? Me, I have grown older a lot but not too bad.

Now looking at the photo, I am not sure why I chose that yellow t-shirt? It matches with the bag they put your ashes in. Hmmm…once a person is burnt, there isn’t much left huh? But I also notice something else. I think I still wore lipstick the day I went to pick your ashes to be scattered into the sea off Gurney Drive. I wonder why? Maybe it is a human reaction to grief by bouncing back and pretending everything is normal.

Whatever it is, things are a lot different now. Now, I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe in resurrection. I believe in being united in God’s Heavenly Kingdom. I have thought long and hard if I should post this but what the heck. It is my life, my blog, my son and my choice. Comment is closed, as usual.