The Kid

        This is where you could find the kid. Always. Behind my left shoulder. Her hands usually held by arm above my elbow. I would stand in the office and talk to my assistant, and Ruby would stand behind me and hold my arm. We would stand in line at a restaurant, and Ruby would stand behind me and hold my arm. It was her comfort. It was where she always was. I stand places now, and I feel her without feeling her. It’s more that there is air and absence where she should be, where she was for so long. Since she died, I have said so many times that I can’t accurately explain how close we were. It is hard to explain. A 15-year-old child that loves her mom, a 15-year-old child that still clings to her mom. Ruby loved me as a human, not just as her mom. And I loved her as a distinct person, not just as my child. I miss that person. She was hard, she was hard to parent from the moment she was born. She was hard to understand for about 95% of the people that knew her. She was a force, a feral child that grew into a force of nature. She was admirable.

         And she died. She died in the most horrible way. She died on purpose. And I exploded into ash. My life, as I knew it ended with her. There will always be a before and after. I have never understood the reason an after exists. Sometimes I think it exists to remind me of my failure, Sometimes I think it exists because I’m not brave like she was. And sometimes I think it exists so that I can scream to the world that she existed. That she was important and worth every second. I struggle every day with the after. And I struggle every day with the before. I spent every waking hour with that child. If we weren’t physically together, we texted. Ruby needed her mom. It’s just how we were. And now there is an absence, a silence that booms every day.