Not Valhalla, but with Hel instead

I try not to count the months, weeks, days, hours, and minutes since Andrew died. I could still easily say, but I try not to think in terms of how long I've been without him. I don't know how to organize, functionally, this timeline. It's always awkward and never pleasant to say it or think it.  But, for you, the reader, as a point of reference, it's been 94 days since Andrew died, and 199 days since his bone marrow transplant.

In September, before the transplant, Andrew and I were laying in bed, talking about Greek Mythology, and how much we loved it. We discussed always being fascinated by tales off Zeus' antics and transformations into animals over lust. We laughed at how awful it must be for Hera, married to such a god. Eventually our conversation turned to Norse mythology. Something I confessed to loving, but being generally unfamiliar with its intricacies.  (To give a point of reference, If I were a better person, I wouldn't say that Andrew could be a blowhard, lecturing, know-it-all sometimes) To my surprise, Andrew wasn't as familiar either. We layed in the dark sharing what we each knew about the stories of Odin; talking about our limited knowledge of Valkyries, Valhalla, and Yggdrasil.  That was one of our last "normal" nights. The next day, he sent links for D'aulaire's Greek and Norse mythology books, we didn't order either then.  Sometime after Andrew's bone marrow transplant he read that Neil Gaiman was releasing his own renditions of Norse Mythology in 2017. We planned to read it together.

After Andrew died, I ordered  D'aulaire's Greek Mythology and Gaiman's Norse Mythology. when they arrived, I poured through the D'aulaire book in an afternoon and evening. This felt safe. I was already familiar; I grew up with my father reading each of the stories to me over and over and over- they were my favorites. I left Norse Mythology on the counter. I walked by it dozens of times each day; it wasn't safe, or comforting.

My friend posted online that she was going to get it, but wasn't sure about whether it would be hardcover or eBook. I convinced her to go with a physical copy. For my own brain; knowing someone I know and love is holding a copy of the same book and enjoying it immensely made me feel somehow closer to Andrew, or to people in general. When I got home, I picked up the book. It felt lighter now, but also slightly gritty with dust. I'm finally reading Norse Mythology. It's beautiful. And I'm devastated.