Jeff loved my long hair. I loved Jeff's beard. He'd tease that he was going to cut it off when we'd 'mock argue' (our thing...some people didn't get it). I'd always pretend that I had cut my hair off when I had a trim and talked to him on the phone. I loved him. He loved me. We did small things to show eachother...even if it was keeping old hair styles on our heads and faces to bring the other some pleasure however silly that is.
Yesterday was seven months since he died. Seven months by myself. Seven months paralyzed with this pain and loneliness. He is never coming back.
He doesn't care what my hair looks like now. I don't care what it looks like now. Now it's just hair. Just an accessory. Just strands protruding from the follicles on my scalp.
So, instead of drowning in thoughts of 'before' on this melancholy anniversary, I decided to do something different. Something I wouldn't do if Jeff was here. I cut my hair off. Like shedding an old, sentimental garment and putting it away to remind of another time, I put it in my drawer with Jeff's wallet, cellphone and watch. It was for him.
I'm not moving on. I am just trying to learn to move forward....in a world that is so very fucking different now.
**P.S. I laid in bed last night wondering if this post sounded as if I am insane or, worse, frivolous. I can assure that I am neither.
I am looking at all the things that Jeff and I did for each other...things that maybe we wouldn't have done if the other wasn't around. Little expressions of love without words.
Jeff disliked it when I would leave the dishes 'soaking' in the sink overnight forcing someone to stick their hand into cold food-filled water to remove the plug in the morning. So I tried to remember not to do this...
I found it annoying when I climbed into bed to find that the sheets were scrunched up at the foot of the bed. So Jeff would pull them straight when I climbed into bed....
I would make coffee in the morning for Jeff. I don't drink it myself.
Jeff would bring dark chocolate home from the store as a treat just for me.
Although I find feet pretty unappealing, I would give Jeff a foot rub. He'd brush my hair.
I'd tape WWF for him while he was away (if you know me personally, you know how much I dislike WWF. But Jeff loved it.)
Jeff made me a stool to rest my feet while I nursed the babies because my toes would cramp from being on 'tiptoe' to hold the little ones at the right height.
All little ways to tell each other how important we are to one another. Little small things that we wouldn't necessarily do if the other wasn't around.
So although, I still love Jeff with everything I am, he isn't here. So I cut my hair. I leave dirty dishwater in the sink overnight. And I don't tape WWF. I need to do this. I need to let go...just a little. He no longer is appreciates these small expressions of love.
The Silencing of a Poet
4 weeks ago