Cupcakes @ Midnight
Cupcakes @ Midnight
Grief came
ahead of that important day
unexpected
unwelcome
bringing with it
unrelenting waves
that toppled my balance
and crashed upon my
heart and mind.
I brushed her away
I didn’t have time
I didn’t wish to
feel her sting
I stopped my ears
to her weeping
& moved more quickly
as if I could outrun
her presence.
For many days I
hoped she would tire
of me and move on.
I gave her no
thought
or attention
but she persisted
she was everywhere
by my side as I woke
in the morning
with me at meals
as I worked
and cleaned the house
in the grocery store.
She could not be
outstepped
or ignored
When I finally thought
she had gone on her way –
I woke in the night to
her inconsolable
tears.
The day was coming
I wanted to forget
to hurry past it
head down and
eyes averted
to be on the other side
so fearful of what
it would stir up –
like an unwanted guest
who would
mess up the furniture
& point out the dust on the mantle place
eat the best cookies
and slurp their tea
too noisily.
But grief was
persistent.
She wanted to-
no –
needed to –
be seen
& to be heard
to be experienced.
The evening came, and her presence
negated all ability to focus on anything else.
I shrugged my shoulders
in defeat.
What will it hurt if I
sit with her,
I cannot bear her noise
any longer.
The weight of her presence has become too heavy to bear.
To the kitchen we went –
mixing bowls and spoons
and chocolate
and fancy cupcake holders.
I stirred and mixed,
humming as I went.
The more I mixed,
the quieter she became.
She watched over
my shoulder,
passed me an ingredient
just out of reach
tasted the batter
and reminded me
to preheat the oven.
She sat beside me and
patted me on the arm
while the fancy
cupcakes baked.
Reminding me of how much he loved them –
& all the times we
shared them –
& even about that time
we bought and ate
a WHOLE German chocolate cake in less than 24 hours –
& how we laughed about it
every time we ate these fancy cupcakes.
I could hear her
footsteps lightly
behind me as I
wandered from room
to room
marvelling at
how little we knew
about the journey
ahead
when we moved here
6 years ago,
the smell of chocolate
everywhere.
She pointed out the moon
rising out of the clouds
at 1130 pm,
so clear through
the kitchen window
as I mixed the frosting.
She whispered, “He wasn’t
great at picking out gifts,
but maybe, just maybe,
he pulled back the curtain
on that beauty of a moon-
just for you.”
She held the cupcakes while
I frosted them and
added the coconut topping – she licked the spoon,
and declared them finished.
She poured me a glass
of milk at midnight and
slipped the biggest cupcake
with the most frosting,
on a plate.
She sat beside me at the table and stole a few bites
as we welcomed
the 28th wedding anniversary-
the first one without him.
She pointed out the best
pictures as I scrolled
through my phone
and added them to a Facebook post.
I laughed as I remembered
I cried –
I ate fancy cupcakes.
She stayed near.
I wrote – she corrected my memories and
insisted on honesty as I
strung words
together.
She pulled down the covers while I put my jammies on.
The moon still shining brightly- like a sun in the middle of the night.
“A midnight anniversary,”
she whispered, “how appropriate. He would have liked that.”
She curled up in bed
beside me.
She hadn’t cried
in hours
she was there
content
a shadow
assisting
pointing out
company
she ate a lot of frosting
and was a bit
opinionated
about the words
I needed to write –
but her unrelenting waves
had become
a soft movement
of the surf
upon the rocky beach
familiar
comforting.
She turned her back
as if to drift off to sleep.
She whispered, “The world would have you outrun me, they don’t understand
that I am not separate
from you –
you cannot outrun
yourself. The days will come and be marked
whether you agree to
them or not
slow down
make the cupcakes
eat them at midnight
watch the moon &
wonder if he got the gift
right this time
share your memories
write, cry
put on fresh jammies
and rest.
Allow my presence
to look over your
shoulder
lick the spoon
and remind you of the
words you really
want to say.
You get farther
allowing the wave to
move you to new
places.
You can’t stop the water
but you can learn to
enjoy the sounds of
its surf
rearranging the pebbles of your life
on the shore.”
She fell asleep
quickly and quietly.
I slowly
moved out of bed
and into the kitchen –
ate some leftover
frosting off a spoon
and watched the marvellous moon.
So bright
so beautiful
not quite full
even more beautiful because of that.
“I made you fancy cupcakes,” I whispered,
“And celebrated at midnight. And just so you know- you finally got the anniversary gift right – perfect even.”
I crept back to bed.
Grief never moved a muscle.
She slept soundly for the
first time in weeks.
