She Really Was Something!

So, a bit of the mechanics behind these blogs.  Most of the time an idea pops into my head and I write one sentence for each paragraph, then build the story.  Sometimes all of the original sentences get revised so much they are unrecognizable.   Other times it’s just a stream of consciousness that I then refine and edit down.   Most of what I have written over the last 17 years has started in one of those two ways. 

Today’s story is different, today’s story started with only the title.  I was talking to one of Bride’s best friends recently and she said, “she really was something”.  That hit me like a ton of bricks, mostly because she really was something.  I am still stunned she picked me for the journey.  That alone really is something.    

So, I tell you all of that because this one may feel different than the others.  Who knows though, by the time I am done, maybe it will feel just like all the other ones.  I’ve got more examples of how she really was something, so there might be another one or two of these posts.  Maybe not, maybe I will have satisfied my itch to share why she really was something special.

She was something else.  She had a fierce kind of love, the kind ya don’t learn, the kind you’re born carrying.  That means a lot of things, active protection of those she loved, yes.  Radical honesty, yes.  Unwavering commitment to those she loved, she was all in.  Her kind of love was not passive, it was not purely a romantic feeling either, although it had that in spades.  She would not allow anyone to disrespect me, ever.  It was like you could see the hairs on her neck stand up and her stance shift to fighting mode if someone did, even a little. 

I remember we were out to eat and the server made some attitude based comment to me about my order.  It was probably because I am a terminal smart ass and said something stupid.  Their comment slid right off me.  She was on that dude like white on rice, and he eventually apologized.  Didn’t matter, we left but not before she had some words to the manager.  For me, it was a small slight and I was hungry and I would have been more forgiving about it.  She took offense and took action.  That was a long time ago, I don’t even remember where we were at, or where we went next. 

She was something else.  She worked harder than I do to keep relationships working, especially when they are contentious. She held family tight, and worked hard at curating those relationships.  She did the same thing with all her friends as well.  She somehow figured out how to set aside differences, egos and pretty much any obstacle that stood between her and a relationship she held dear.  She was much better at that than me by a country mile.

She was something else.  She was as fearless a human as I have ever known.  There are so many examples that it is sometimes hard to pick one specifically.  She wore that fearlessness like an oversized T-shirt and it permeated who she was.  It showed up always and forever in large and small ways.  From detoxing in bootcamp, to admitting herself into rehab and telling them don’t let me out until you feel I am better, 34 days later she came home.  Through being Baker Acted by her doctors, which was hard on her. 

She came out the other side of that stronger than before, learned a lot of lessons and did not let that slow her down.  She started a blog, SoSaysSandy.com, where she started telling her stories to the world.  Something that a lesser human would have been embarrassed by, she wore as a badge of courage.  After a few months, she stopped and had me delete the posts.  I just unpublished the blog and those couple of posts are equally powerful and I may end up posting them here.

She was something else.  She would call me on my bullshit, in a lickety split sort of way.  That fierce loyalty didn’t mean blind agreement.  If I was being a stubborn ass, she would tell me to knock it off.  If I was being an idiot, which happens a lot with me, she would definitely call that out for me.  Sometimes immediately and often very firmly.  Looking back a lot of my better decisions happened because she was willing to tell me something I didn’t particularly want to hear.  That kind of honesty is a gift, even when it arrived wrapped up in 80 grit sandpaper.       

When I think about our shared bit of the journey, I feel so fortunate that I was the human she picked.  We tried hard not to take any bit of our ride for for granite, that was not a misspelling, that is what she called it.  Looking back, I wonder how well I held up my part of that bargain.  I refuse to beat myself up over that, but I can see spots where I could have been a better husband and partner for her.  I guess that is the advantage of hindsight.  Maybe it’s not advantage, maybe it is closer to torture, at least that is how I am viewing it at this moment.

The funny thing is, I started writing this one because someone said, “she really was something.”  By the time I got there, I realized I hadn’t even scratched the surface.  Every example I type out reminds me of three more.  I finish one thought and think, yeah, but there was also that time…

That’s the problem, trying to explain someone who filled up every room the way she did is a fools errand.  Every moment feels important, but every memory feels incomplete.  No single story can hold the whole person, especially her. 

Maybe that’s why that simple sentence hit me so hard.  “She really was something.”  Not simply brilliant, not simply fearless, not simply stubborn, not simply resilient.  

Something.

Somehow that single word manages to carry all of it.  Fierce love.  The fights she was willing to fight.  The relationships she refused to give up on. The courage it took to stand back up after life knocked her flat on her ass.

All of it somehow fits inside that one little word.  She really was something.  

And man, was I lucky she picked me