I didn't recognize it as being a tradition for a very long time. In fact, it wasn't until the 10th year that I visited Jill's grave that the realization hit me. It was January 8. Jill had been dead 10 years. I had bought the bouquet of forget-me-nots at Diamond's Florist, just as I did every January 7. And every March 13. And June 11. And September 18. And November 7.
I paid a fortune for the flowers in January. But I was adamant that those were the flowers I wanted. The first year, I almost didn't get them in time for Jill's grave. I wonder if she would have been amused by how much I paid for those flowers? She had called me cheap. Once. Would she have laughed to find out they had to be shipped from New Zealand? I don't think laughter and amusement is allowed in hell.
I feel the itch again. Coming to the graves on the anniversary dates doesn't do it for me. Watching the videos barely does it either. Or, in Karen's and Susan's cases, the DVDs. I wonder if I could transfer the others to DVD, too. Sure not something I can chance taking to a video transfer place. Ha ha ha.
May seems like a good month to take care of the itch. I'm betting that Cathi -- with an "i," of course -- over at Diamond's is a pretty good candidate. She's only been working there about six months. I've talked to her three times in the store and twice as often on the street when we've run into each other, and she isn't very nice to me at all. Pretends she doesn't recognize me. Greets me rather robotically. But I've been thinking about her a lot, and I'd know her anywhere. She could at least do me the courtesy of acknowledging our connection.
May would be a good month. And the flowers for her grave would be pretty cheap.
[For Sunday Scribblings this week. And, yeah, it's fiction, 'k?]