The calendar and I are having one of those “it’s complicated” relationship moments.

I am way too excited for spring. For longer days, sunshine, boat rides.

And then I remember.

I can hardly wait to plant my garden come Good Friday and buy new hibiscus and plants for outside.

And then I remember.

I’ve begun my indoor spring cleaning ritual and I have plans for this and that and paint here and this do-da there and I’m looking at the organization calendar on my fridge to see what’s next.

And then I remember.

I’m buying outdoor stuff for my new patio and pressure washing the Kimabama, and I see an old license plate from his motorcycle.

And then I remember.

I’m going on my college spring break next week and am spending it on the Florida panhandle, one of my favorite places to be.

I remember that I am excited for the first day of spring.

And then I remember that the first day of spring is on March 20th.

3 years to the day that Gregory died.

And then I remember the hospital, the doctors, the faces of my friends and family, the pen the doctor handed me to sign his life away, and it’s like remembering a slow motion movie where you’re thinking oh, that poor helpless thing, must suck to be her.

And then I remember that it did. And it still does, at times.

And then I remember that I didn’t die. That I live.

I remember what it’s like to dip my toes in the Gulf of Mexico, smell the salt air and feel so very alive .

I remember what it’s like to feel like I’m home again, and to laugh with the old men at SandShakers and feel the brain freeze as I gulp down that first Bushwhacker of spring break.

I remember what it’s like to be happy.

And that’s a memory I’ve missed for far too long.

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It’s my fifth second anniversary. I’m not explaining it again, just read my repost below, ha.

It’s also time to SPRING FORWARD tonight! YAY ! I adore that extra hour of light in the evening, even though I will piss and moan the next few days that my time clock is all wackadoo. Speaking of clocks, go ahead and show your smoke/co2 detectors some love and change the batteries in those as well, as well as your weather radio.

Have a great weekend!

This is a repost from 2010, where I explained the time I got married. Twice. To the same man. : ) 

Gregory and I dated for over three years before we got married. Officially married. Stay with me, this will soon make sense, I promise! When we started talking about getting married, we both knew we wanted something simple, casual and fun. We had both been married before, and since my first wedding to my “practice husband” turned out so well (Yes, I’m being highly snarky) , we both wanted a hassle-free wedding. More of a celebration, since that’s what we were celebrating – Us ! We got engaged on Memorial Day weekend, in the middle of the lake while taking a boat ride.

Originally we planned to get married on St. Patrick’s Day 2007 in New Orleans. I have a friend that owned a great bar in the Irish Channel called Parasol’s, and the high holy day is the party of the year there. Since our day it has since moved and become Tracey’s, but it will always be Parasol’s to me. They have a humongous block party, parades, and more fun than is legally allowed in most jurisdictions. NOLA was one of our favorite places to go, and SPD was our favorite holiday. But once we started planning, it quickly turned into a headache. Gregory’s friends and co-workers couldn’t come down that weekend because they all had events, I couldn’t get my buddy The Judge to do our ceremony because he would be out of town, etc, etc. Not to mention that Jeff’s bar would be a madhouse and pandemonium would be unfolding all around us. It was quickly turning into an event. A hissy fit causing, stress inducing event. Much like my practice wedding.

One morning I hung the phone up after trying to nail some sort of a plan down, and being unsuccessful, immediately began to stress out about it. Gregory and I began talking about it, and he said “Let’s go get married right now”. I thought he was kidding. He wasn’t. We called the judge, threw on wedding clothes that we deemed appropriate, stopped at the jewelers to get bands, and on Friday, December 15, 2006, we got married at the Shelby County Courthouse. Our “first” anniversary.

So what to do in March ?

Spring in New Orleans? That calls for a party people! So that’s what we did, we changed the date to accommodate everyone, left the stress and planning behind, and on March 10, 2007, renewed our vows at my friend’s bar and had a four day party in NOLA! I never thought I’d ever say that I “got married” at a bar, but I did, and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done. We did the whole thing “our way”, right down to the invitations and our wedding announcement. It was true to us, and that was all that mattered. Parasol’s was one of our favorite places, Jeff had green hair for St. Patrick’s day, my good friend Doug served as our officiant, we were surrounded by people we loved, and what marriage shouldn’t be toasted by champagne and Irish car bombs ?

So happy fifth second anniversary Gregory Mann. On this unique anniversary, as always, I am proud to be your wife and am honored to have been given the chance to profess my love for you. On more than one occasion.

The last few weeks I have been dreaming about Gregory.

Strange, discombobulated dreams that are just, just plain weird y’all.

(And yes, I totally stole the title from that old movie of the same name, though I’ve never seen it.)

I’ve told you before about the dreams where he won’t answer the phone. In one of these new ones, he answers, but he sounds like he is far away, which hey, I guess he is. But it’s a sound like you’d hear from someone in a well, or trapped behind a wall. In the dreams I can see him, I can see his face moving and the words forming, but can’t understand what they are. In the dream I’m yelling at him “WHAT IS IT? WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?” and I’m pounding on what looks like a thick clear plastic wall between us, like in a prison. I’m holding a red corded phone in one hand and beating on the plastic with the other, and I can see him, just standing there, talking to me.

Then there are others. They come in snippets, they do, and I usually jolt awake and try desperately to go back to sleep to see him again to find out what’s next.

In one of the others, we’re together. We’re walking around moss-covered streets in an old town I don’t recognize, full of empty shops. It’s near dark and there is a foggy mist, no one else but us is around, and we just walk. No words. He looks at me every so often and smiles, and I smile back. I open my mouth to tell him something, and that’s when I wake up.

The others are similar. In each, we’re together but can’t communicate. We’re also the only ones in the dream, no matter if it’s daylight, dark, in or out. Always just us two.

So what the hell is this?

Is it because the third year deathaversary is coming? Is this some weird communication from beyond, if that could actually occur?

I’m almost afraid to close my eyes because frankly, sometimes I wake up and I’m scared. But then if I don’t, what will I miss with him? What is he trying to tell me?

What am I trying to tell myself ?

What dreams may come?