Queen of Hearts

It’s August 19, no longer the first year without Sarah. We made it through and we are out the other side. I’m feeling…okay. A little emotionally flat, actually. Getting away to the Jersey Shore helped, although I don’t think I ever want to go back to a casino resort again.

We stayed at the Borgata in Atlantic City, which was definitely like nothing we have ever done before. The room was nice and comfortable and there were multiple pools and a spa and of course, the slot machines, gaming tables galore, and over a dozen restaurants. I tried three slot machines but I never really got the hang of it. The casino floor was a bit of a hellscape, sensory overload with lights and music and smoking was allowed in a lot of areas.

I tried slot machines called Queen of Hearts and Rich Little Piggies because I thought Sarah would have liked those themes. I pretty quickly lost about $40.00 so I quit. Max played some roulette and was winning until he started losing.

We went to the beach, and I ended up getting a bit of a sunburn on my shoulders and back. They ended up really red. I wasn’t taking good care of myself. Max had offered to spray me with sunscreen but I said no. I have to wonder if I was deliberately self-destructive. At the very least, although I hate the term “self-care,” I really need to start thinking more about it.

I had this feeling again the last night of our stay when we went to the resort’s very nice Italian restaurant. I ordered a pasta dish, some sort of stuffed pasta. Tortelloni? I’m not sure. Max said he was surprised. I usually order fish in Italian restaurants because, well, I really don’t like pasta. I’m one of the weird people who don’t like pasta, don’t like tomato sauce, and don’t like wine.

Why did I order pasta? Can’t tell you, don’t know. Maybe like with the sunburn I was punishing myself somehow, or at least disregarding myself. But it wasn’t a sad dinner, or a sad vacation. We were okay. Max even threw out the idea that we should visit Italy on our next trip somewhere. I love that he had that idea.

We visited Max’s cousins Charles and Barbara, who live at the shore year round pretty close to Atlantic City. Like most of Max’s cousins, they are older, in a different generation. Of all Max’s relatives they probably knew Sarah the best since they saw her every summer. Barbara told me that after Sarah died she kept seeing Sarah on the beach, near the surf, which Sarah of course loved. It made sense that Sarah would go there. She loved the ocean.

When we got home, we lit a Yarzheit Candle for our Queen of Hearts. This is a Jewish tradition. On the anniversary of a death, you light a candle that burns for 24 hours and you say a prayer. It’s burning now.