Appropriate...

Today is the 208th blog of the year. It is the number I set as my goal. And here we are. Though, technically, I still have 5 fiction pieces to post to make the fiction section of the three part writing goal. I say post because I've written more than that so it's just a matter of deciding if I post the ones I've already written, or write new. 

But today marks the overall total. And I've written more days than I haven't written this year. So numbers are there, frequency is there, fiction is there but hidden. 

And it happened on Halloween. 

Which I love. 

So today's blog is going to be a writing process one. 

Today's blog is going to be a this is the way my brain works one. 

Today's blog is going to be a navel gazer one. 

Which is so fitting for a Halloween blog from me that reaches my goal numbers.

The veil is getting thin. That's the way it feels right now. It's that time of year. It's seasonally appropriate. It's all around us. 

A week or so ago I was posting about feeling some sort of way and Paul told me to take it easy on myself. That we knew what was coming next month. And it was one of those posts that reminds you that we are all in this world together. Because I had just been thinking we were a month away from the anniversary of Kevin's death. It was seeping in around the edges already. And then I got the message from Paul. The veil is really thin this time of year.

Yesterday I got a lovely note from Kevin's father. Which, of course, it's coming for them as well. His whole family dreading the flip of the calendar this year. 

The first year, in my experience, is always the worst. Every single significant day you think, this is the first one without...and it all leads to that first anniversary of their death. Which rocks you back so hard you aren't sure you've processed the grieving at all. And it's coming for all of us who knew and loved Kevin. 

Now, when I got the note from Keith I was actually working on a grocery list. Planning my Día menu. I did it last year. Instead of building out an ofrenda I made a meal for us representing each of our parents. Tig is still a terror and I don't think I want to clean up marigold parts and the spilled shot of tequila and try and protect the orange and chocolate from kitty bites. And honestly it worked for me last year. It was a really good remembrance. 

But as I was building out the menu I made myself laugh. See I make brownies for Brent's dad. This year I'm going to add a layer of peanut butter in them so we have chocolate covered peanuts for my mom incorporated in them. As you (those of you who knew Kevin) can imagine I made myself laugh by imagining what I could add to those brownies to honor Kevin as well. 

And then I got the note from his father. 

The veil is really thin this time of year. 

I had decided the way I want to honor Kevin was by cooking "with" him. That he would make the meal with me. Johnny Cash playing while I used the knives he helped me pick out. Literally, messaging back and forth while I was in the store buying them.

Then today his father posted a collage of sketches honoring Kevin and of course Johnny was featured. It felt like Kevin telling me that that was the perfect thing to do. Darlin' ...

The veil is really thin this time of year. 

It's a weird thing in my head. Considering I don't believe in an afterlife per se. I don't think there is a heaven or a hell. I don't think reincarnation the way it's generally described is a thing (the numbers don't work for a one to one replacement theory). And yet...I write a lot about death and dying and what comes next and how people can be gone but not really gone. Fiction and nonfiction. 

I don't think the people we love leave us. Not completely. I think we are made up of all of those bits of interactions. It's part of what makes us, us. So conversations with my mother still happen. She's still living in my head. I still wonder what my father would think of certain things. I wonder how Jack would have aged. I still forget Ann is gone. 

And that's just parents. The friends I've lost over my lifetime are all there too. Some have stronger voices than others, but I can call them up for a chat to this day. 

All of the parts of our interactions became part of who I am. For better or for worse they have all shaped me into me. So as long as I am alive they are as well. 

But sometimes...sometimes it feels like they are outside of that. And sending me messages letting me know they are thinking about me too. The veil is really thin this time of year.

I know it's contradictory, but I am often contradictory. I believe in everything and nothing all at once. 

So tomorrow I will make a Día dinner to celebrate our parents. I will cook that dinner chatting with Kevin like I've cooked so many meals in the past. It works for me. 

*added for the pedantic in my life

I celebrate el Día de los Muertos on November 1. It's the day my mother always celebrated All Saints Day and so it feels most correct to me. Now, because she was honoring her children who had passed the 1st was correct if she was celebrating All Saints Day or if we were going New Mexico style and celebrating el Día de los Muertos. But because traditionally for me the celebration is on the 1st I've never switched to the more correct 2nd even though I'm honoring our parents. I know it makes some people crazy that "I do it wrong" but I (and I know this will shock you) don't care. 

And one last thing to close the loop that has been playing in my head about how some people are just meant to come in to your life. 

Jack died on Labor Day and Ann died on Memorial Day. They were bookends. 

Dad died on Mom's birthday and Mom died on Kelsey's birthday. We do death and birth as matched sets in my family.

And Kevin? Kevin died on Jack's birthday. He was meant to be part of my life. I truly believe that. 

The veil is really thin this time of year. Say hi to your people for me...