Lulu here. Today is 2 years since Klaus passed away. A day that I haven’t really prepared myself for, no matter how much I think about it. A day that I’m not ready for, no matter how much I planned to be. A day, if I’m honest, I never thought I would be here to see.
Each anniversary that goes by twists the knife that’s in my heart, but these hurt the most because they are a reminder of only a bad thing (the day we lost him) rather than good things (our wedding anniversary, his birthday).
Having to be both mama and dad to Bogart and the kitties is hard. Having to figure out who the hell I am now is hard. And my normal MO is to not make things particularly easy for myself, so there is the extra heaping helping of self-torture that goes on. I hate being a part of the widow club – nothing against the other members, of course – it’s just the crappiest club around. And adding it to my resume doesn’t exactly bring up my score on the sweetness scale.
I’m a tough nut with a marshmallow coating and don’t forget the frosting and sprinkles, but I confess that making it this far wasn’t a part of my plan. I literally owe my existence to my bestest friends – Bogart, Sekhmet, Aeon, Behemoth, Kafka and Willie – without their love, discipline, and general all-around awesomeness I would have been floating around the Willamette years ago as fish food (yep, that was the plan – convoluted but I thought it had the best chance of effectiveness with the least amount of pain and chance of messing it up).
In the past two years I’ve learned a lot of things. I’ve lost a lot of things. I don’t think I’ve gained a lot, but I suppose it’s more about laying a foundation before you build a house, eh? So I’m laying the concrete slabs in hopes that plans work out and I can get the electricity and running water sorted at a later date. Raising funds for future development, well, hell yeah. Maybe even decorating at some point. I do wish that I had some architectural drawings for fear of letting my imagination run too wild and designing an Addams family life/home rather than something more practical and typical, but I suppose when thinking of something typically Lulu the Addams family does indeed come to mind.
Last year I decided that the anniversary of Klaus’ passing would be a birthday for me each year. Not to celebrate, but to remember that not only did he die but our lives together did and thusly so did I. A whole language between us is gone, my identity crushed into little pieces. I am distinctly not the same person I was two years ago, in many good and bad ways. So it makes a kind of sense to turn back the numbers (partially because I’m not thrilled at how high my actual age is these days!) and start the counting anew.
Moving to the east coast has been tremendous for us, and Philadelphia has turned into a fantastic place to both nurse our wounds and venture out. Much of my life has been spent moving long distances in search of “something” so I cannot say that this will be the place we put down roots, but for now it’s “just right”.
So tonight, on my birthday, a little of the old and the new – a beer for Klaus and some frosting for me, special treats for Bogart and the kitties.
We all miss you, big guy.