... of loss.
We received the disposal list of everything we lost in the sewage flood.
Papi was more devastated than I was, as I was prepared that everything was gone. Sometimes it's good to think as the pessimist.
The one loss that smashed our hearts however, was my love's vest and tie from our matching wedding attire. They're made of silk and there's nothing you can really do to clean it.
When the restoration vultures had come to take all our belongings, I salvaged my wedding dress, also silk. I didn't want them taking it with them, because I didn't want them to ruin it.
It was already defiled a plenty from the sewage water having been draped over it's delicate neck strap.
I was going to bring it in to the seamstress who had adjusted it, as I trust her. I didn't want just 'anybody' touching it.
Yet, my fear that it was maimed beyond repair denied me from actually bringing it in. I didn't really want to know what could be.
There it would hang on the wall in our makeshift home in the attic. I would see it front and center every damn time I'd climb those stairs to our temporary abode.
I had getting it cleaned on lists as 'most important', or 'most urgent'. Alas, it drooped every day staring at me, daring me to bring it in to add to the disaster of the flood, my love going through a gender transformation and just plain old being fucking sick and tired of being off work due to my fragile back being reinjured.
It was time to snap out of it now. We received the letter of loss.
Having known Papi's wedding frock was ruined, we pretty much assumed that my dress is a write-off as well.
So, on Valentine's Day, one more thing we had done (i don't think i wanted to tell 'you', my imaginary friend, about it just yet), was bring in the wedding dress to my seamstress. She told us she would get back to us 'tomorrow'.
She got back to us on that day, only a few hours later. The bad news was, there was a good possibility that these stains were not going to come out.
She will let me know if 2 rounds of dry cleaning will help remove the blemishes.
If not, like Papi's vest and tie, they will have to remain in our possession as is. A filthy remnant of the sewage flood tangled amongst the beautiful memories of the greatest day of our lives together.
July 10, 2010; the beautiful verbal admittance of our bond in front of our family and friends.
November 23, 2010; the day the demons came out to play. The sewage flood that hit 2 days before I re-injured my back, not mention only 10 days after my love dropped the bomb about the male transformation, and I slipped into a catatonic state for 6 weeks.
Our silk will forever remember the balance of good and bad that life is really all about.
Something tells me however, that even if those articles are only to hang, only to be seen by our eyes, they will eventually only be a souvenir of our love and not a symbol of the difficult times.
Love outweighs a silly 12 page letter.