The first time I (and Mr. X) went to Miami for Christmas since Roger's death.
The first time we were going to spend this holiday with Roger's family.
I was excited.
I was nervous.
I was looking forward to it.
I remember the Tuesday when the doctor wanted to speak to me in person.
The day when he told me all bets were off.
Roger was done.
"This is as good as it will get."
A million thoughts were running through my head.
And one big thought: I was going to lose Roger's family.
First, they would hate me.
Because of course this was all my fault.
Second, they would leave me.
This wonderful gift of family that Roger had given to me was going to disappear.
But I was reassured.
I was told that would never happen.
"You will always be my prima."
"My niece, Star."
And I believed it.
Those who loved me before would love me still.
I believed it with my entire being.
In some ways, it is true.
Some of the family is still my family.
Like I feel so connected to Grace.
She is truly a big sister to me.
I can talk to her about anything.
I cannot imagine my life without her in it.
And sometimes, for a tiny, minuscule split second, I forget how we are connected.
How we both miss him.
How things would have been.
And in other ways, I feel the pulling.
Especially now that I am getting married again.
With June fast approaching.
Family that barely says anything to me when I am in the room.
Family that visits Orlando without even a peep.
Family who will not even consider coming to my wedding to Mr. X.
So Gizmo's health this holiday season dictated that we would not go to Miami for Christmas.
We fear the stress of leaving her may hurt her kidneys more.
And I can almost feel the relief of some.
To know the Gringa will not be there.
Do they think I do not think of Roger daily?
That I have forgotten?
That because I am getting married I am over it all?
That I did not love him?
That I do not love him still?
That I cannot talk of Roger?
That they cannot talk of Roger?
What would Roger think of you all now?