future former fatties
Dec 10, 2014 at 12:57 PM

Diary of a Future Former Fatty 3

By Linda Misleh Wagner

Dear Diary of a Future Former Fatty,

I woke up this morning, and for the first fifteen minutes, I forgot what today is. I was sitting in my living room when I looked up at the picture of my son, Tommy. That’s when it hit me. Today would have been Tommy’s twenty-ninth birthday.

I smiled at that picture of him and whispered, “Happy birthday, son. What are you doing for your birthday today? Are you having a party in heaven? Will you be playing your saxophone and showing off your magic card tricks to God?”

Then solemnly I say, “I miss you, son. I wish you were here so I could throw you a party. I miss you so much, son.”

I stare at his picture and wonder if he is hanging out with my dad today. I smile again at his picture and whisper, “I love you, Tommy.”

It’s a workday. I don’t have time to wallow in misery over the loss of Tommy. I have to get ready for work.

Today is day three of my diet. That stupid monster in the bathroom has not budged a single ounce. What’s a girl have to do? Starve?

I make it through the day without losing myself to my thoughts about Tommy. I plan to leave early from work so I can pick up flowers, pick up my mother, and go to the cemetery to see Tommy.

I used to bring balloons and a mini cake for him as well as flowers. I stopped when I noticed the deer and rabbits were demolishing Tommy’s gravesite to get to the flowers and the cake.

I pick up my mom, and we make our way through the traffic to the cemetery. The silk flowers my mom put into the gravesite vases look worn and faded from the summer sun. I make a mental note to stop and get new silks flowers for my dad and Tommy. Fall is coming, so I will bring pretty fall colored flowers.

My mom bends over and starts straightening up the silk flowers that have tipped in the vases while I place the flowers I brought on the corner of Tommy’s and my dad’s headstones.

Mom and I reminisce over Tommy stories. Looking at the pictures of them both on their headstones, one of an old eighty-one year old man and one of an eighteen-year-old young man, one cannot miss the strong resemblance. I know had Tommy lived into his old age, he would have looked exactly like my dad.

It dawns on me that one was 81 and one was 18. 1 and 8 in reverse. Kind of odd and interesting at the same time.

Finally, we leave them and make our way to my car. My mother offers to buy me dinner. Traffic is horrendous and takes us nearly an hour (it felt like it anyway) just to make it to the main road. I hate traffic, but thank God, I am a patient woman.

We decided to eat at PF Jang’s. The food was good. We shared crab Rangoon and vegetable spring rolls. I ordered beef Szechuan. I ate a third of my dinner and was full.

After I dropped my mom at home, I went home feeling fine. Oh Diary, so I thought. The minute I walked into my condo and saw Tommy’s picture, I began to feel the pain of his death all over again. I tried to contain these feelings, ignore them, but I couldn’t. The pain felt fresh.

After an hour of trying to put these feeling aside, I went into the kitchen, grabbed a fork, opened the fridge, and pulled out the leftover Chinese food. It was devoured in fifteen minutes. You know how it is with Chinese food. One hour later, you’re hungry. Haha. Not funny. Just painful.

My bed was a welcome sight and sleep a sweet respite. Tomorrow was another day.

Thanks for listening, Diary.

Until we meet again, this is Linda Misleh Wagner, Future Former Fatty.

Posted in Diaries.