March 23rd, 2012
I went to Target to buy swimming supplies for my boys, who were about to go swimming at the Comfort Inn Express Hotel. Mimie's best friend, Dawn, was staying there when she flew in from Colorado to attend Mimie's funeral. The boys had fun splashing around in the cool water, enjoying the toys I had just bought. I wish it could have been just a normal day like any other, but the weight of her death still leaned on me very heavy. I smiled on the outside as we enjoyed the fun and sun, I did what I had to do for my boys. But inside, I thought of Mimie and all the events leading to the day, just a week before, when she passed away.
Weird to write about it now.
After the dip in the pool, I drove Dawn from her hotel in West Palm Beach to her family and friends that were staying at their own hotel in Ft. Lauderdale. Dawn and her friends had planned a cruise months before Mimie's death and we were suppose to have dinner with her that very Friday, before they left on their cruise. Now, it was just us in a trio and it felt very werid.
We arrived to the hotel and I got the boys out of the car to stretch their legs after a drive that should have only taken forty-five minute increased to over an hour, due to rush hour traffic. The boys played in the hotel room and I begin to think - Ugh, I do not want to drive home alone and be at our house alone.
That thought didn't interest me, so I decided to take them to dinner with Dawn, her husband Randy, and their cruise party who were about to walk the short half-a-mile from the hotel parking lot to the restaurant to meet their family and friends.
There was about twelve in their cruise group. I knew when I got there they would all look at me in pity. Which they did. One women to the back left of the table just stared that, "awe pathetic so sad" stare. The guy I sat next to at the table, to my right, didn't move. He would hardly look at me. Like I had a gigantic mole on my face with puss oozing out. So I sat there acting like everything was okay. But I wanted to leave so bad.
Randy, Dawn's husband, really put a good face on and helped me with the boys. It seemed really genuine that he truly wanted to help me. The boys were calm at first but then became very emotional and unruly. They were tired from the hours in the water and sun earlier in the day. I could hardly control them. The restaurant was loud. I mean so loud you could barley hear each other speak. But yet our table seemed dead silent. I felt like I was ruining their pre-cruise dinner. I just wanted to leave.
Nico has an obsession with American flags right now and he saw one. An Autism trait, although he has never been diagnosed with Autism and it may be part of his learning delay due to him being a premature baby. He wanted it so bad. He would stop at nothing to get it. I walked by the hostess stand (we were in the outside portion of Rustic Inn Restaurant enjoying the beautiful water) and he wanted the flag immediately. I said, "no.". He wouldn't take that as an anwer and started carrying on badly for it.
The manager walked over and I looked at him and begged him, "Can I please hold on to the little flag," as I pointed to it. It was loosely placed above the hostess stand. He looked at me perplexed. I looked at him and pathetically pleaded with him with all the humbling of a peasant in the presence of his king imploring him to let me hold the flag temporarily.
I told him, "my wife died last week. I buried her yesterday, my son is on the spectrum on autism and he needs your flag. My wife left me with my 4 year old and 2 year old and I don't wanna be here. ( I began to cry uncontrollably)." I said, "my friends dragged me here and I don't wanna be here. I just want to go. I wanna go home."
The manager, a short but stocky burly man, places his hand on my back. He grabbed the flag and told me, "Its okay. It's good to get out." He was going to walk me back to the table but I told him I didn't want them, the people in the pre-cruise party, to see me this way.
He showed me a long walk I could take on a path that went outside the restaurant and around the boat docks and back inside to my table. I'd walk it until I regained my composure as I carried my son Nico as he admired his new flag.
At the table the food came and my boys were unmanageable. I told Randy,"I had to go. I just had to go."
I tried to pay for my meal but he refused. I felt terrible because I did not eat and the Rustic Inn restaurant is not cheap. I scooped my kids up in both arms and walked out. They were both unhappy. Randy tried to walk back with me the half a mile back to the hotel parking lot but I refused. I refused to be a destruction/distraction to their vacation in which I feel I already had been to this point.
So I marched on my long journey with my boys back to my car. I cried all the way the long dark and lonely road. I said sorry over and over to Mimie. I placed "baby" on my shoulders and carried Nico. It was the longest walk of my life as I struggled emotionally and physically. Carrying my boys a combined weight of 80lbs my arms wanted to give out but my resolve made me march on.
I have been told I'm a "big man" but I was so weak, so sad after the loss of Mimie. I'm sure the weight of my boys will grow heavier on me in my lifetime. I am truly feeling Mimie’s pain of depression and finally understanding her, so I think.
Mimie’s sister Tina told me before our beloved Mimie's funeral that she believed "in karma and it will come around. You will have to answer to it. To someone for what you've done." she's right, I felt as if i was letting her down.
So I placed the boys in their car seat and texted Randy and Dawn this:
"I apologize please apologize on behalf. I shouldn't have done it. Too much stimulation. Nico knows. He yelled for his mommy. He is grieving. Please enjoy your cruise. And again I am sorry." <break>
New text:
"So [sorry] to waste your money."
Randy's reply:
"Sorry for what it was great I have rased [sic] 3 boys it tug [tough] when they are tired thanks for bringing dawn up thanks for going to dinner drive safe"
It was very difficult. The boys were fast a sleep on our long drive home by the time we got home. I put them in bed and I was utterly exhausted as I cried myself to sleep.
Christopher Fusaro is the author of Captain Imperfecto
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