Page 77 of Goodbye Days

“Okay.” I steel myself.

She stands and faces me. “Blake. I love you and I loved the days I had with you. I have numbered every one of them in my heart. Someday, when that trumpet sounds, I’ll hold you again in my arms.” And she hugs me.

Words abandon me.

After a long while, she says, “This was a worthy goodbye day. I hope you agree.”

“I do.”

“Blake was a beautiful boy and I’ll miss him.”

“I will too.” With that I leave.

My parents are watching TV in their bedroom. I hadn’t told them much about what I was doing today. Only that Nana Betsy and I were spending the day together to remember Blake.

I go in and hug them longer than usual and tell them I love them. They ask about my day and I tell them I don’t want to talk; I’m too tired. We’ll talk about it later.

I flop down on my bed, text Jesmyn, and ask if she can talk.

While I wait for her to respond, my memories fold and replace themselves in the trunks I’ve removed them from. Today was cathartic in the way of a vigorous puking session. You don’t feel good, exactly. Just purged of something.

“You got new glasses,” I say. Dr. Mendez is wearing circular black frames.

“Yes and no,” he says. “No, in that I’ve had this pair for a while; yes, in that generally I’m always buying new glasses I don’t need. I buy glasses the way some women buy purses and shoes.”

“My friend Jesmyn would say that’s sexist.”

Dr. Mendez smiles with a concessionary nod. “And she would be right. I need to do better.”

“I won’t tell.”

He takes off his glasses and holds them to the light, inspecting for smudges. “The funny thing is that I never see the world any differently through new glasses. I only ever see things differently when I look in the mirror.”

I tap the pad of my index finger on the tip of my nose.

He laughs. “On the nose. Fair enough. If I promised you that I did not intend to sound like such a psychiatrist right then, would you believe me?”

“I mean, it’s probably hard not to. It’s what you do all day.”

“This is true. You’re easing my worry about my shortcomings while not allowing me to escape accountability. Perhaps we should switch chairs.”

I half smile.

Dr. Mendez slumps into his seat and crosses one leg over the other. “So. I’m sorry I missed you a couple of weeks ago; we were on vacation. How are you?”

I draw in a deep breath and give myself until I can’t hold it anymore to collect my thoughts. “Last week I did the thing I told you about. The goodbye day with my friend Blake’s grandma.”

“Oh? How did it go?”

“Pretty well. I guess maybe I got a little closure? I had to tell Blake’s mom that he died when his grandma couldn’t go through with it.”

“Sounds difficult.”

“It was. I almost had another panic attack when I was telling her, but I didn’t.”

“Good.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I got to know Blake better. Told his grandma some stuff about his life she didn’t know. Maybe told her more than I should’ve.”