Went out to the Old Airport Beach this morning to ponder life without Carlton. This morning wasn’t as bad as some Friday mornings.
Mostly, I pondered – what would I have done if I got another few minutes with Carlton. Not much actually. I would have told him that I loved him more than life itself. I would have assured him that I would be OK. Not great but OK. And then I would have said – Carlton, you have a free pass to the next level – so get going while to going is good. We had no unfinished business between us.
Sort of slipping into Hawaiian spiritualism along the beach, I pretend that rainbows and beach glass are little manifestations of Carlton’s lingering spirit. No beach glass or rainbows today. But, Kumu Keala Ching had three of his students practicing the pahu drum. The drums were today’s message from Carlton.
People ask me “When did you lose your husband?” I didn’t not lose my husband. I lost my cell phone earlier this week. I was careless. I found the cell phone. I was not careless with Carlton. I did not misplace him. I did not leave him on the bus. I did not lose Carlton. No amount of retracing my steps, searching, or putting a “Lost” notice in the paper will return Carlton to his place among the living. Carlton is not lost. He is just dead.
I “cooked” today. Rice in the rice cooker. Some fine ahi (yellowfin tuna) wrapped in spinach in the microwave, and a tangelo. Have leftovers too.
