You know how sometimes you see something and it reminds you of that time before... Like if a shampoo sample comes in the mail, and you use it, and the smell of the suds remind you of that boy and that first date all those years ago.
The former nun, our neighbor two doors down, has decorated her window for the upcoming holiday. Four leaf clovers. Rainbows. A leprechaun. Happy Saint Patrick's Day! in green.
Last year we moved into this apartment on St. Patrick's Day.
Our landlord gave us a card.
We actually had the apartment for a while before that, but since Justin... well, you know, medical school.... blah blah blah.... tests... blah blah...
I came to this place in shifts, with shelf paper and scissors and a few blankets and pillows so that there would be something to sit on during breaks. I made it a nest, and much like the futon-island of the past couple of weeks, found myself napping in the middle of the room for a lot of the day. Spent from a life of almost-nothingness.
It's a blurry memory, but about a year ago, there was shelf paper, and then boxes, and then boys helping us fill a U-Haul, and an old garage full of things for sale, and a bookshelf in the new living room and books separated by categories, and then a call to Justin from one hospital, asking him to drive me to another one so that I would not have to take an ambulance, and giving him my wedding rings and crying and some visitors and the boys on the ward and sleeping in that room with the windows to the nurses' station open and my toothbrush locked away with everyone else's shampoo and razors and mouthwash.
There are four leaf clovers on our neighbor's windows now.
About a year ago, I thought I'd die.