The weather the past few days has been pretty strange. It has been unseasonably cool for Virginia in August, and much rainier than is usually the case. We’ve got green grass here in Virginia. Normally, by this time of year, the grass is dead and brown without some serious lawn watering. Earlier in the week, we weren’t really expected to get this kind of rain, but here it is.
My friend Supi Wolf, a lovely Thai woman, once told me that in her culture, when it rains heavily, it means the angels are crying. The day she told me this was June, 16th 2001, the day of Gee’s funeral. It poured that day. It makes me wonder if my angel, Gee, is crying about me leaving our home. Somehow, I think she is, but that they are both tears of sorrow and of joy—sorrow that I have to leave, and joy that I am moving on.
Rain has been there throughout my Life with Gee. The day Gee and I first met it rained. Almost six years ago, when I went down to meet Gee’s parents for the first time, it rained most of that weekend as well. It rained on the day I left Gee in Seattle, when she first moved out there, right after we got engaged. And it rained on our last trip together, to Cape Cod and Martha’s Vineyard—where we talked, dreamed and hoped of together retiring to someday. The rain was the one thing Gee missed most about leaving Seattle, and whenever it rains—the rain always reminds me of her.
I miss her very much still, and she is still very much a part of my life—in ways I can’t really explain. I think that Gee is keeping the promise she made on the day we got engaged—to never leave me. What most people don’t realize is that we got engaged on September 19th, 1999, twelve years to the day I lost my twin David. I think that Gee was one of the few non-Twinless that truly understood how much losing Dave changed my life.
These are the final few days I am spending in the only place Gee and I called home. The house is bare and empty—with just a few things I have left to take with me. There are no traces of Gee ever having been here now, and it saddens me. In two days time—this place—the first place I ever called home—where she and I met, courted, married and lived—will no longer be ours—and the heavens wept for my leaving. But, this is meant to be… I am moving on as I promised her I would.