Today was an important day. 2:50pm I got to the doctor’s office. I sat in the waiting room, wearing my earthy mala beads around my wrist. The bright red beads you strung were in my hands. My fingers spoke to one bead at a time while my lips murmured my mantra. 108 beads, 108 mantra repetitions, plus a heart stone.
3:00, my appointment time, but still waiting. 3:10, 3:20… then I remembered I was supposed to arrive 30 min early for this appointment, because they wait until we arrive to get things ready. 3:30, finally my name is called.
You should’ve been there. I undressed and got on the exam table. My clothes were in the chair, but they should’ve been on the floor. The chair is your spot.
My heart is beating strongly. My stomach, an indecipherable knot – is it from the anticipation? The sadness? The worry? If you had been there we would’ve been talking about something while we waited. Maybe about the snowy weather outside, or possible baby names, or what we wanted for dinner.
The procedure didn’t take long. After, I had to wait resting for 10 minutes. 108 more red beads running through my fingers, 108 more mantras…plus the heart stone. Beads and a heart stone that your fingers had kissed one at a time over a year earlier, as you strung them together when we made our malas.
I lay there, the mantra words barely audible from my lips, tears starting to fall. You were supposed to be there. I could feel your love, but I really wanted you there with me. My chest was tight with hope and grief and love and excitement and a little fear. Such a strange tension within me.
The timer went off and I got dressed and drove home, thinking about how you would have hated that snowy drive, even as a passenger.
And now, now I lay in bed, my hand on my abdomen, wondering if magic is happening. In two weeks I will know for sure. This is supposed to be our magic.
I will make sure I weave you into the story, into the magic. You are already such a part of it, even though you’re not here with me. Some days I wonder if I can really do this, but I know the echoes of your love will remain and will serve to give me strength when I find mine running low.