2020/ Part 3 HER

 

So, 

I am not going to be writing everything that happened to me in order and that’s okay. 2020 was a miserable year and the only joy that came out of it was my precious daughter. On October 25, 2020 I had an extremely vivid and terrible dream. I was 34 weeks pregnant. In my dream, my husband took my hand and gave me devastating news in our kitchen. At the time, a lady bug landed on his arm and he put it on my arm. I don’t remember what the news was, but I woke up and told him right away. It was October 26, 2020. My day had a normal routine, I took care of the kids, we homeschooled a bit. I made them lunch and it was quickly time to make dinner. I prepared my chicken with onions, olive oil, garlic, and a variety of other seasonings. My oven was preheated and I put the chicken in for 25 minutes to cook. After 25 minutes, I opened the oven and instead of pulling it out, I got tongs and thought it was a bright idea to flip the chicken while in the oven. A little bit of oil spilt on the bottom burner and it burnt out. I was in complete shambles because my oven was broken. Tears uncontrollably poured down my face. It might have seemed like a mediocre thing to many, but to me, in that moment, it was the end of the world. I called my mom right away before I called my husband to tell him and she told me not to worry because ovens could be replaced. I was astonished at how calm she was. I called my husband and he told me the same thing. He got a replacement right away in the same night. We saved the chicken (half baked) for the next day in the fridge. As soon as that was taken care of, he told me to go sit down. I don’t like it when people tell me to go sit down. I nervous laughed and asked him what the heck he did. He assured me he didn’t do anything and it was something else. I kept asking what it was and I threatened him if he did something jokingly. I was nervous and my body was all ready trembling. The children were upstairs and quiet watching t.V. The house was silent and I could feel my throat starting to close. I swallowed and swallowed. He hesitated to tell me anything. “Well, what is it? What did you do?” I screamed. “It’s not me. It’s, it’s Nicole.” I could feel myself lose complete control of my body. All I could do was scream. I screamed, “NO, NO, NO,” over and over again. All I could think about was our whole lives together from the moment we were little babies until we were adults. Every single moment that we lived through together. She was my person. My person was gone. I couldn’t stop crying, the tears just flowed uncontrollably down my face. An intelligent, bright, bubbly, funny, kind, and compassionate soul was gone. I felt a sense of relief because I knew the battle that she had within herself was over. I was just so so upset because I hadn’t seen her in 7 years. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to give her a big hug. I didn’t have the chance to tell her how much I truly loved her. There were so many things I didn’t get the opportunity to do.

I have a picture of her and i together and she’s kissing me on the cheek. She was grabbing my face. You can see how much we loved each other at 2 years old. She was 6 months older than me. Our relationship rekindled when I was 7 and took a summer trip to Canada. We played Barbie’s the whole time. I brought so many with me. I will never forget the first time I saw her at her grandparents’ home. She had hair that reached the top of her bum. It was a mix between blonde and brown. You could see the innocence in her eyes. We had the best time bonding and getting to know each other all over again. Believe it or not, I still had a bottle and Nicole, she sucked her thumb. I only drank my bottle at night. I was a big choooch. Lol. That summer I stopped the bottle with her influence. We had such an awesome time together that we managed to convince her dad for her to come stay with us in the United States for the rest of the summer. We were not first cousins, in fact, our grandparents were cousins, but their love was more brotherly and sisterly than anything. Boy, do I love Nicole’s grandmother, Zia Giulietta. In fact, Nicole was more like my 5th cousin, but that was not our relationship. We were more like first cousins. My mom was the first person that cut her hair. Her father was extremely hesitant about it at first, but he trusted my mom. She spent her summers with Zia’s kids as a child as well. My mom wanted to keep Nicole with us permanently, but she would never leave her dad. Reciting the story over and over again in my mind, it pains and brings joy to my soul at the same time. So, for now, I’m going to leave this here…I am so glad that I was able to make another entry and write for another day. My story about Nicole is far from over. Please enjoy what I have written so far.