Iceland

Max’s birthday dinner was a pretty good time. We dressed up and ate a lot: appetizers, main course, deserts. We found adequate topics of conversation and I didn’t cry when Sarah’s name came up. We held hands across the table.

I remember for last year’s birthday, Sarah and I got Max three balloons, small ones, with various Happy Birthday messages. They were pretty much going flat by the time I left for my trip last August. But she loved them and didn’t want me to throw them away. While I was in New York on my fateful trip, Max also bought her a balloon that said “Sweet Summer” on it and looked like a watermelon slice. I could hardly bear to look at that one and I disposed of it pretty quickly. It didn’t feel like sweet summer.

The birthday balloon that we purchased for Sarah this last February, the huge one we got by default because Safeway didn’t have any smaller ones, is still going strong. It looks like it hasn’t lost any helium at all. It’s amazing how long this thing is lasting. It resides in Sarah’s room. Most of these balloons ran out of gas in a few weeks so this one is really quite an anomaly. I’m tempted to see some sort of sign in it.

I asked Max if he would like a balloon for his birthday this year, and he said yes. We are supposed to continue his celebration today by going to the movies and we will get his balloon too. We haven’t gone to the movies in a long, long time. We did take Sarah to see Minions: The Rise of Gru last summer but I don’t think we’ve been to an adult movie since before the Pandemic. It will feel very retro.

We talked about going away on a trip the week of Sarah’s death anniversary which will be coming up soon in August. Possibly to Montreal. Possibly to the Jersey Shore. Somewhere. I keep thinking about Iceland for some reason. It’s probably not cold there in the summertime, though. I just would like to go to someplace barren and freezing, and perhaps lifeless. Antarctica? Tierra Del Fuego? Alaska? Probably we would get there and there would be a Starbucks, a Papa John’s pizza, and a 7-11.

I really wish I weren’t such a drag. I can’t help feeling that the best parts of Max and me died with Sarah. That our DNA, our essence, went into her, and although it was ultimately faulty and screwed-up (of course it would be), when she went, she took the best parts of us with her. I’m not sure what is left. Where do we go from here? Iceland? What’s the point?