My eyebrows

This is the weirdest thing about my life now.  Those mundane tasks I did before August 27, I have to do now too.  Only now I do them knowing something about you that no one else knows.

I had to get my eyebrows threaded today, Neil.  Did you ever know I did that? Probably not. We didn't really talk a lot about my cosmetic situation, how I keep my stunning appearance going. 

The Indian lady (or is she Pakistani? I should know that by now) I've been going to for a few years now started her conversation like she always does.

How are you, dear? Good? Good. How's the family, all good?
Oh, yes.  We're all good.  Oh, there's that little thing where my husband killed himself a few weeks ago.  Other than that, good good. How's your mom's chronic constipation, did she ever get help for that?

No, I didn't say it.  I nodded and said yes.  We are all fine.

Wasn't it bad enough that I was laying back in that chair, holding my eyelid down and my forehead up, and letting this woman use tiny little threads to rip out all the thousands of errant hairs in my eyebrows?  Wasn't that painful enough? So I lied.

What could she possibly have said to me? Oh, dear, oh no. Cluck cluck, so sad. So sad.  How are your boys? Oh, dear. Cluck cluck.

She didn't need that. I spared her.

I met with Pastor Ryan this morning.  I have never met with a pastor before today, so I don't know if our talk was normal. I told him all the stuff I'd told you last night, about God giving me or you or anyone only what they can handle.  He agreed with me. 
Then he asked me how I felt about being in the house.
The thing is, I sing How Great Thou Art to myself all the time.  That last stanza, where it says when Christ shall come with shouts of acclamation, and take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.  That gives me comfort.  I'm able to think about the place where Neil died and feel comforted that Jesus came to get him, to take him home. It's not spooky or scary. It's fine.

I talked to my new manager about some work-related things today, and I was able to detach from you for long enough that I actually laughed out loud on the phone with him.  How about that. It felt nice. He's never really met me. You killed yourself four days before his official first day as my manager. 

Welcome to the job!  Oh, by the way....

There's so much fun stuff this time of year, Neil. I wish you could have hung on a little longer. The week you died it was still hot summer. Now it's cool fall.

Tonight the school had a blacktop movie night. The boys loved it, they got to run around with their friends and be kids. The adults mingled. I stayed in my chair, but still a few moms found me to say they were sorry. One had a million watt smile the whole time. One wanted the actual details.

So, what I heard was that you came home, and the police were already there?
Uh, no. No, I had taken the kids to the movies, and then when I got home...
Oh, ok. Well, you know you never hear things the way they happened. And he fell down the stairs?
Uhhh...he had started some new medication. So I don't know if that was something...
Oh, right, maybe it was the medication. So you don't even know yet?
The medical examiner hasn't sent me a report yet.
Oh, sure sure. Well, we're really sorry.

She's a doctor. Is that why she asked all those questions? I was watching the kids play while she asked me the most jarring questions about it. I kept thinking really? Am I supposed to be talking about this right now? Can't we just have a fun night on the blacktop like everyone else? But it's ok. I answered her to the best of my ability without lying outright. She didn't mean harm, she really did think you fell down the stairs.

Oh, he fell down alright. Just not down the stairs.

I'm so sorry, Neil. I should have caught you and helped you back up again.