When Mourning Comes

I was mowing the grass.

With 10 days before the graduation party, the to-do list seemed to be growing by the second, and yard work was normally Todd's thing.  But Todd had been extra busy at work and the grass was getting embarrassingly long and it needed to be done.

But, as it usually does, the job was more complicated than it had to be....mechanical issues, things Todd had adjusted and then forgotten how to fix, my own inadequacy as a lawn mower, all converged into a grassy, gassy ball of mourning.

As I pushed the self-propelled mower that no longer self-propelled, the tears began to fall as I mourned the husband who could remember how to work the mower...who could remember that this mower was different than the LAST mower, and how to care for it.....who could think ahead to the events coming up that would require a well-maintained lawn.

And I was glad for the excuse of the yard to explain my flushed, wet face to the neighbors driving by.