So, how was your day?

Published by pam on Wed, 02/29/2012 - 3:00pm

My husband and I both show up to pick up my daughter from gym.  
 
"How was your day?" he asks.
 
"Not good.  The lump is a tumor," I tell him.  But a tumor can be anything.  A tumor isn't always bad.  "The radiologist says its cancer.  There's at least one lymph node.". We are interrupted by my daughter who is ready to go home.  We are all ready to go home.  "Later," I tell him. And I wonder how different his drive home will be from mine.  I have my daughter to distract me.  It have my daughter to remind me that life will go on, one way or another.
 
Home is pretty much a mess.  We are remodeling our kitchen.  It took me almost a year to convince my husband that, even though our house is under water, we should sink more money into it.  I begged him, for my fiftieth birthday, to let me make the kitchen fit the house.  Nothing fancy, just something workable.  We like to entertain.  We like to cook.  We like what happens when people/family gather in the kitchen.  They relax, they talk, they laugh differently than they doin the rest of the house.  Kitchens are important.  That's what I told myself.  It's what i told hm.  Now I wonder if the kitchen will always be associate with what happens  next.  Will I ever use it? Enjoy it? Is it too late.  
 
The  space will look different to Marc, to the girls if I die.  Every corner will be filled with ghosts.