The day after Halloween is the day our mother died. It's been a year today and for some odd reason, in my mind this last year it has always solidly been that she died the first day of November and not as the day after Halloween. I have no memory of it being all Halloweeny while we were making funeral arrangements. Neither Karen nor I remember it as being the day after Halloween now. It's just so odd. Our Nana died a few days before Halloween a few years ago and we remember that as near Halloween. I do, however, remember eating our emotions like it was Thanksgiving.
Our Nana used to always tell us not to worry when she died, she'd visit us in our dreams. Every night, I'd hope it was the night Nana would visit. When mom died, she visited my dreams for weeks. Dreams only my siblings would understand. Dreams that would wake me with a racing heart, queasy stomach, and the feeling that I was 7 years-old again and there was no way out. And then one night after a long day of packing up mom's house, Nana visited my dream instead of mom. She opened the door to mom's apartment to let us in and welcomed us with open arms. She said she'd finished packing for us, and that our job was done. She would take care of mom now. And just as I reached out to hug her, Suki jumped on me and woke me up.
The last thing I packed from mom's house were the plants she kept on her patio. I keep them growing in a corner of my garden near the rose garden I planted in honor of Nana. What was a sprig last year is almost a tree now.