Just like that. Irrevocable.
One day. One swim. One phone call.
We are both buried and gone from this world.
I miss you tonight Hae Y. I kiss your picture on the table goodnight in the dark living room. This picture has you, me, and Audrey together- and it's a close-up because we took it ourselves- holding the camera out in front of us while riding the little train at Van Saun Park. I look at you mostly, but when I catch a glimpse of Julia- I don't recognize her at all. She is also gone, I realize. She bothers me because of her innocence or ignorance of what is to come- but I also miss her at the same time.
I think about if you came back- would you know me? How would we interact? Would I also resurrect? The old me? Or would I be forever changed by this experience even if it came to a close? Oh well, who cares I guess.
I still feel like you must be coming back. It's been a while now since I've seen you. I know you went on the tour, and I know my life's felt really strange these past couple of months, but I still believe- in a part of me- that I'll soon be telling you all about it. You will comfort me and apologize that I've had to go through all of this.
The phone rang tonight right before Audrey's bath. She still talks about you and we go over a few important memories every morning over breakfast, but it's already not as often throughout the rest of the day. So I was surprised when I said, "Oh, it's mommy's phone- I wonder who's calling," she quickly said, "Call Appa!" "Appa Call!"
I wonder if the way I ran to pick up the phone was similar to the way I used to run to get it when I thought it might be you calling. She remembers little things too- this morning she dumped the jar of hair clips and picked out a pink and blue one and handed it to me, looked me in the eye- and said "Appa." You must have put that specific hair clip in her hair. She remembers.
She remembers now, but little by little all of the associations she has will disappear...her 18-24 month clothes- I just started to sort out her closet today for the change in season and her new size 2 clothes. Eventually we will move from this apartment. That will be huge. She won't read the same books that you've read her, she won't sit in a high chair or have her diaper changed.
But you will not be back. It is irrevocable.
It's not too late- I still keep thinking- come back!
Whatever trial or stress or strain in life- unless it is death- does not have this irrevocable quality. Actually, anything can change...and it will- for better or for worse. Apart from death- there is such great hope for any given situation though it is so hard to see that until you have this comparison. All my previous worries and concerns were mobile and transparent like bubbles floating in the air. Irrevocable death is a stone vault- sealed and covered in dirt.