Turn Your Face

Piece By Piece

When she came to, she was laughing. Though still dazed, her laugh was unmistakable as I hadn't heard it for weeks. Her eyes bounced back and forth searching for my face as her vision readjusted from the previous darkness in her eyes. She sighed as she began to readjust, turning her body so that her chest faced mine.

All five of us were piled into Spencer's car with Emily stretched across the back seat; her head in my lap, her feet curled in Hanna's. As soon as Emily had slumped against my shoulder at the end of the service, it was clear that the day had been too much for her. We reassured Mrs. Fields and the four of us struggled to bring her to Spencer's car as she wobbled, fading in and out of reality. The cold water bottle from the cooler at the gravesite was the first thing that actually led to some movement behind her eyes.

Laughter was definitely not what any of us expected as her coloring began to come back from its concerning olive green tone to her usual tan complexion. My left arm wrapped around her waist so that my hand could rest on her forearm while she brought her hand up to my jawline so that I could make eye contact with her.

"Well, aren't we cozy." She mumbled, beginning to lean her body up toward mine for a kiss, but quickly realizing that something was wrong with her equilibrium. "Woah."

"Yeah, you can lay down, babe. You just had a quick blunder okay, but you're fine."

She began laughing again, "Oh yeah, I know. You always tell me I'm a klutz. How did I fall this time?"

"Oh Em? You didn't fall; you passed out against Ali's shoulder." Aria stated matter of factly, turning around from the passenger's seat.

"That's weird. It's not typical of me to pass out... Babe, what were we doi-" her voice faded as she began looking at my face and attire.

Her thumb reached up to wipe away a tear halfway down my cheek and her eyes traced downward to the black A-line dress I was wearing with a lace cover. Her eyes followed in the same suit down her own dark clothing to Hanna, who was rubbing her hand along Emily's ankle, wearing a tight fitted black dress as well.

It was apparent to me, someone who has dealt with a parent's loss physically, emotionally, and experientially that something incredibly common had just occurred. It's a simple but tragic example of delayed grief and I remember it increasing well.

Your life is perfect. Maybe you're watching television and a touching story on the news. Maybe you are flipping through social media and a joke you remember pops up onto your feed. Maybe you're just driving down the road and remember something you forgot to tell them. But either way, you pick up the phone to call them, or you yell for them on the other side of the house and then it hits you that for 30 seconds you were experiencing the life you had before. You forgot that trying to connect with them again was unattainable. For those 30 seconds, your world was back together. Nothing was wrong; you were fulfilled and in one piece. But in a matter of moments, the grief you may have previously processed crumbles.

Emily had woken up, dazed, confused and dreaming something so wonderful that she woke up laughing. She was aware of my body wrapped around her and nothing else. But as soon as she had reacclimated her to her surroundings, she realized what had just happened. She realized that the dream of laughter that radiated so clearly from her subconscious to her present was just that, a dream. For her, reality was far more bleak.

It was an experience I knew. It was an experience I sat with, and it was an experience I lived through for both of my parents, though one has passed and one is very, very painfully still alive.

---

Even though Emily and I had been dating for over a year and half, it took until the May before college for us to really fall into a rhythm. It probably stemmed from the fact that we had to build a pretty solid foundation with Mr. and Mrs. Fields before they would even allow Emily to be at my house entirely alone. It was understandable. Having two hormonal, in love 17-year olds in a 4 bedroom house alone isn't any parents' perfect idea of supervision. But as I spent more time with them, and slowly but surely won over Mr. Fields, we were able to increase the amount of time Emily could spend at the house I now owned.