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"Do they have Hazelnut creamer? Wait, of course they do." My dad reached into the bowl and pulled out two of those little individual serving packets of coffee creamer. "See, Son? I don't even need your help opening them anymore." He chuckled while pouring them in his coffee.
I smiled. "How's your pancakes, Mom?"
"Pretty good," she said. "Not as good as my homemade ones though."
"Damn right," said Dad.
.
This time I chuckled.
"So why did you want to meet today?" Dad asked.
"Just to talk," I replied. "You two should see how fast the girls are growing up. My God, Sasha is getting so smart. Too smart. She's backtalking us now. Time out is a regular thing for her. And Norah! Norah is walking now! And every time she enters a room she has this enormous smile on her face! She turns one next month."
"Oh, I know," said Mom.
"You do?"
"Of course. I know because you know."
I looked down on my coffee, stirred it a little. I looked back up.
"Evi and I moved into your old bedroom. But Sasha refuses to call it that. She still calls it 'Papa's room'."
My father laughed. "That's right! And it'll stay that way. Hey, what did you do with the China cabinets?"
"We threw them out."
"WHAT?!? YOU THREW THEM AWAY!?!"
"Yes, Dad, I told you for years that the minute you dropped dead I was going to throw those ugly 1986 pieces of crap away. We threw out that worthless futon as well. My God, only you would still be trying to hoard from the Great Beyond. Do you know how much more shit we have to throw out before we can put a car in the garage?"
He started laughing.
"Hmm," I said. "It's not like you to laugh right now. You usually put up more of a fight."
"Son, I'm with your mom now. And I've come to realize that this is what makes me happy. I've found my bliss."
I stirred my coffee again.
"What's bothering you, Son?" It was my mom.
I paused. My eyes watered a little. "It just...it just bothers me so much that I didn't bring those girls into the world early enough for you to enjoy them, and for them to enjoy you. My heart aches thinking about it. Thinking about how much Mom would adore and love on both of them. How much Dad would spoil them. Thinking how many amazing memories of you two they will never ever have. It just...it just kills me."
"Are you crying?" Dad asked.
"No. Okay, maybe a little."
"Jesus, even in the afterlife you're embarrassing me."
"Funny. But look, this isn't real, okay? Those pancakes, this table, the coffee, none of this shit is real. These are all lines I'm writing on a Microsoft Word document that I have no idea what I'll do with. It'll probably become some crappy Facebook post."
The table got quiet, except for mom eating a key lime pie. I didn't remember her ordering one but I guess that's an advantage of this all being made up.
"Don't you think you're being a little hypocritical?" Dad asked.
"What? How am I being hypocritical?"
"Son, remember what you told me when your mom died? You said she will always be alive in our hearts. Was that all bullshit?"
"No, of course not."
Mom asked: "These lines you're writing for us right now, are they us? Are they what we would say?"
"Not perfect, but pretty close."
"Then we're alive then. We'll always be alive. It's just your job to make sure we stay alive. Tell those beautiful girls about us. Tell them what we would do and say. Tell them we love them so much, and we will be there for them."
"And spoil them with some candy from me," Dad said.
I wiped away a tear, then chuckled.
"Okay, if you're done being a sissy, I'm going to order myself some of that pie. Your mother finished hers without even giving me a bite."
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Erin
Really good, and very moving. Please blog more. I already have 2 blogs up and will be doing more. That’s what I really miss from the old days, the blogs.. reading them, writing them, the comments! Keep going and thank you for sharing your parents with us all for a moment.
Thank you, Erin. I tried to subscribe to your blog but I guess this feature isn't available yet. We'll have to rely on bulletins for now.
I can't say for 100% sure, but I think we were friends on the old MySpace. I miss those days. I'll probably blog here, but you should know I'm usually wackier and not so serious.
Hope this site makes it. The specter of a MySpace lawsuit scares me.
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