Kujo's Marigolds

“I can’t believe it’s been a year. Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to visit his grave. It’s time. I want to plant some marigolds. I’ve put it off for too long.”

He walks close to me, but we’re not quite touching. “Bridget, are you sure you’re up for this?”

Part of me wants to feel his arms around me. The other part rejects any form of comforting. “No, I’m not. My grief has swallowed me up and taken over my life.” I blink tears out of my eyes. “Conner, I need to sit and talk to him.”

“I have the picture ready, that you want. I can print and frame it tonight.”

“Thanks! That’s my favorite one. It almost hurts every time I look at it. He was so adorable and loving.”

“He was sweet, funny, and ornery. I miss_.” He turns from me, rubbing his hands roughly over his face, and continues, “A lot, including having a beagle. I’m looking forward to adopting another one when we’re ready.”

“You mean once I’m ready.” I stare at his back, aching to comfort him. How can I give what I don’t want to receive? “Beagles do have a way of making life special.”

We walk out the front door, close enough to touch, but separated by miles. We bump shoulders, making me flinch. To my surprise, he links our hands as we walk to the car.

Watching me closely he asks, “Do you have the marigolds, or do we need to stop and get them?”

“They’re in the garage.”

He breaks our connection, the first we’ve shared in so long. I watch as he walks into the garage. He carries them out, along with my gloves and a small shovel. He places them gently in the trunk, next to the framed picture. He touches it before slamming the trunk shut and walking to the driver's door. I’m in the passenger seat, staring into the mirror. I sniffle loudly and hide my face, hoping he doesn’t hear.

Wiping his own eyes, he queries, “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”

“Yes,” I reply, wiping tears from my face. “It’s about time we visited the pet cemetery. Losing him had a tremendous effect on our life. We need to visit him so we can begin to move on.”

He frowns, “You’ve been upset and have lost so much weight this past year. I’ve been worried, but have been afraid to bring it up.”

I lean over and kiss his cheek. “I know it’s been hard for you, I lost my child. There are people out there who think I’m silly or ridiculous. But that’s how I feel. I’m not going to change the way I am to make others happy. I’m sorry you’ve been worried. I know I’ve been a lot to handle this year.”

He watches me out of the corner of his eye, as he drives. “I’ve been worried I lost the woman I love. I miss Kujo also. I can’t tell you how many times I woke up looking for him, or have gotten home from work, expecting him to greet me with his howls and crazy tail. That part was terrible. Having no one to talk to about my feelings, made it even worse.”

I reach out to hold his hand but hesitate. Am I too late? Have I spent too much time sleepwalking? He sees me struggling and reaches out the rest of the way, bringing our joined hands to his lips.

“I’m sorry Connor. I haven’t been here with you, even though I never went anywhere.”

“My greatest wish was that you would start talking to me. I read a lot of grief books. Losing him was the same as losing a family member. I wanted to help you get through that and have you help me. It’s not too late. Maybe, now we can start to heal.”

Holding our joined hands to my heart, I stare out the window. “None of this looks familiar. Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“You have to remember, that was one of the worst days I think we’re ever going to have. I know the way there. And_.”

“And what?”

“Well, don’t get mad, alright.”

Nervously, I twist my wedding band. “How can I promise not to get mad when I have no idea what you’re going to tell me?”

“This isn’t my first time visiting him.”

I release his hand, staring stonily out the window. Wiping one lone tear off my cheek, I snap. “You broke your promise. We said we were going to wait and come here when I was ready.”

He reaches for my hand once more. I keep mine balled into a tight fist in my lap.

“Yes, will you hear me out? Please?”

Hunching my shoulders and turning away from him mumbling, I sob. “No, I don’t want to. I can’t even look at you.”

He pulls over, turning his emergency blinkers on. “Now listen here,” he shouts. As he took off his seat belt he continues, “I lost my whole family in one day. There was nothing I could do to change that. But, I couldn’t leave him alone without visiting. That wasn’t fair. Just because you weren’t ready, doesn’t mean I wasn’t.”

I cower, leaning against the passenger door. I can’t get far enough away from him. Unable to take yet another rejection from me, he parks the car. He turns it off and gets out, slamming his door in the process. Wiping tears off his face, “Enough is more than enough.”

He walks across the pretty meadow alone, with his shoulders curved down. He knows that they’re not far from their boy. Yet, they are so far from each other. They may as well be on different continents. Blinking away my tears, I watch my husband retreating. I have to go after him. But is it too late? What can I say to make him love me again?

Reaching for the heart I wear around my neck, I think of when he gave it to me. It was the day after Kujo passed. Inside the locket is a picture of the three of us, happy and together. To love is to lose, but you also gain the best days of your life. I know if I never love again, then I will be cold and lonely, until the day I die.

I have to get out fast. Knowing this makes me struggle with both my seatbelt and the door. I can’t let another second pass without my husband knowing that I still love him. Finally, after what feels like years, my door opens. I race across the meadow, not caring if rain leaks into the car. We can fix anything as long as we’re willing to work together.

My heart’s racing by the time I catch up with him. I feel both clammy and sweaty. I don’t recognize where we are.

“Connor, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I love you! I promise I’m going to wake up and start living again.”

He jerks away from me, angrily kicking at a rock. “I’ve heard that from you before, more than once. What makes this time different?”

“Please, I realize what a mistake I’ve made this past year.”

“Just one?”

“No, more than one. The worst one was losing sight of the two of you.”

He paces in front of me in the yard littered with trees, and my knees get weak. The area is starting to look familiar now. He stops, turns to face me, and grabbed both of my shoulders. I’m not sure if he’s going to shake me or kiss me.

He does neither. He just pulls me close for a tight embrace. “I’ve missed you. I reached for you every night, but you were never there.”

“I’m here now. I couldn’t face you. I couldn't face him. I can’t express how sorry I am.”

“What do you mean? Why couldn’t you face us?”

“I’ll never forgive myself for letting the doctor talk us into what they did to Kujo.”

“Bridge, he was sick. What did you expect to happen.”

Crumpling to the ground, I tear at the grass. “I expected more time. She walked into her office acting happy and perky. Instead of stopping her, I let her stick the death needle into him.”

He sits on the wet ground holding and rocking me. “It’s what was best for him. What are you talking about?”

“I wasn’t ready.” I sob, “I should have listened to my heart. We could have had another six months or maybe even a year with him if I had.”

Pushing me away, he studies me at arm’s length. “Yes, perhaps we could have. But he wouldn’t have been healthy. He was failing and it was time to let him go. Maybe, now you can see that.”

Clinging to him, I choke out, “I think I’m ready. But, it’s hard. I’ve missed the two of you so much. The past year I’ve been a zombie. Do you think we can learn to love and live again?”

“I’m ready to help you do that. But I can’t have you checking out on me again.”

Staring up at him, I swipe at my face. I smudged it with dirt and grass. He chuckles and pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket, to patiently clean me up. While he does, I study him. The man I love stayed by my side for a year, which I never participated in. Smiling through my tears, I reach for him.

“I promise I’ll never leave you again. Thank you for sticking with me.”

“Our vows were for better or worse. I figure, we just got through the worst. Are you ready to plant some flowers on our boy’s grave?”

Looking around, I realize the reason why the place looks familiar. We are in the pet cemetery. “I’m ready. I would like to sit with him for a couple of minutes alone. Maybe, you can pull the car closer.”

We embrace and kiss. “Take your time. I’ll park and get your supplies.”

He walks away and I smile. I’m so happy, knowing I haven’t ruined our future. My grief was so overpowering. It took a year of my life away. I can’t let that continue. It’s time to take control, once more.

Walking slowly, I read the names feeling relief that the place is deserted. My weeping is unstoppable, at this point. When I come to his name, I fall to the ground, in front of his grave. The pain is waves crashing over my head. Burying my face in the sweet-smelling grass, I reach out a shaking hand to trace his name.

Taking a deep breath, I start talking in a sobbing whisper. “I miss you so much, baby. Life’s not the same without you. I’m sorry I haven’t come sooner. From now on, we’re going to be here once a month. I can’t wait to meet you at the rainbow bridge. Dad and I are going to look for another beagle. In a way, that will make them your brother or sister. But, they will never replace you in our hearts.”

Hands reach to comfort me, making me jump. He plants a kiss on my head. “Sorry, It’s just me. I thought that was a beautiful way to say goodbye.”

“Never goodbye. I wanted him to know that I will never forget him.”

“That’s not even possible. Should we plant his flower now?”

“Yes, then we can start to live again. He is never far from me or my heart. But it’s time we start to enjoy our lives again.”

Digging into the rich earth, we plant marigolds. When we’re finished, I kiss his cold stone marker. Then, the two of us walk hand and hand, away from the cemetery. Feeling both sadness and happiness, as we’ve finished a chapter, but not the book.