Two Pretty Damn Amazing Weeks

Well I just got a text letting me know my departure from Jacksonville to Chicago has been delayed.  It appears I still have an hour and 21 minutes  between gates in Chicago for my Lincoln flight.  So I decided I might try to type out a quick Oratory.  I am now at JAX waiting departure so I thought I would finish this one. 

So today I head back home from spending 2 weeks in Jacksonville Florida.  I was completely unplugged from everything, work, house, bills, and most of all my puppy, Handsome Petey Kabuki McPants McGillicuddy, more commonly referred to as Larry O.  From all appearances, he has enjoyed himself.  His tail was pointing up every time I watched, and that I know means he is happy.  Plus, he had extra cuddle time, that was a great upsell at drop off.  I am looking forward to scooping up the butt dart from the border and loving on him.  I have watched him playing every day, their camera system could you some work, I think I will suggest a trade of my expertise for boarding days. 

I shared space and a lot of meals with a lot of chosen families on my trip.  I went to have a meal with folks at places we always went to when we lived here.  Well, except Lubi’s, Bride could not stand a loose meat sandwich.  They were probably heart attacks on bun but damnnnnnn, they are good.  I shared three home cooked meals as well, and they were equally yummy. 

I watched the sunrise every morning, one of them was in Ocala and the rest were at the beach.  I love sunrise, but boy watching in a chair in the surf at the ocean is something everyone should do at least once in their lives.  I just wish I wasn’t learning how to love it again without her.  I remember back in the day a great friend of mine came down here to Florida from Ohio and we went to sunrise as his first time seeing the ocean – it was magnificent and a gift to me to watch someone see that for the first time.  Coincidently, my Niece and her family were also vacationing here so I got a sunrise with her and got to spend some time with her family.

Jacksonville is very much different and very much the same, it just does not feel like home anymore.  I’ve  always said home is where I hand my hat, but it turns out that wasn’t quite right.  Home was wherever she was.  That is what Smithlandia really meant.  All but the three hats I brought with me are still in Lincoln, and I have hundreds and that collection started all the way back to high school.  And yes, since the Beach Diner is closing, I bought one of their hats.

I got to hug a lot of necks, and that was very much needed.  There is something special about that kinda hug, the kind where nobody is really saying anything, and yet everything is being said.  Some of them held on a little longer than normal, and we both knew why.  Because for a few seconds, it filled a space that has been too damn quiet, for both of the of us. 

While I saw a lot of people, I also had a lot of alone time, that was good and bad.  Still writing down three things every morning looking for forward momentum.   Some days its three steps forward, and then, in the same day, its two more backwards.  And every morning I’m still waking up to world she is not in anymore, left wondering how that’s even real.

Overall I have moved forward but the pace is spotty.  And that is the new norm so that is just OK.  I am glad I sprinkled a few ashes as well, while not closure it did feel a bit like adding a period at the end of a sentence.  Problem was, I was not ready for the sentence to end.  I just sat there for a bit after.  It was nice to have that time when I was out of my element.  No constant reminders, no work things, no house things, no dog things, just me, myself and I.

And now for an abrupt topic change, I rented a Hyundai Sonata, it was a hybrid and I kinda liked it.  Well, I liked the efficiency and tech.  Over the two week period I put gas in it twice, and the overall average for my two weeks was 44.7 MPG, which is a hell of lot better than my truck.  Not enough to make me switch yet, but it got my attention.  The tech package was pretty impressive as well, lane drift protection, adaptive cruise, and self steering, although I turned that off after just a minute or two.  The only thing I did not like about it was it was low to ground, I’m old and fat so…  and the drivers compartment was crowded, see aforementioned note on being fat and old.

So I will be back in Lincoln tonight, and will pick up Larry in the morning, after his bath and nail trim and other pampering.  Fingers crossed the two flights are uneventful.

The Contacts you Never Delete

So, a couple of months in and I have not yet turned off Bride’s phone, and I am not sure when I will.  We shifted to consumer cellular a couple of years ago and it is only about 20 bucks a month to keep it active so...  We both have the same code to get into our phones and iPads.  I had never looked in her phone before she passed, and I don’t think she ever looked in mine, even though we both had the codes.  I have been checking her phone daily for calls, voicemails, text messages, Amazon activities and any other form of communications looking for anything that needed attention.  There have been a few things that needed to be addressed in those first few weeks but nothing lately.

We had recently replaced her phone with the latest iPhone Max, the big one, the $1,500 one.   Before that, her phone was older than mine, an iPhone 7 from around 2017 or so I think.  We both hang on to them until they started giving us problems, so we always tried to get the newest thing they had out.  I have the Galaxie Note 20 Ultra that I got in 2020 and I’m on my second Otter Box case.  It still answers phone calls and texts along with email, when I feel like using it for that.  I have looked through her pics and email and what not, mostly because I saw the .99 cent charge for cloud storage come in.  I am working on getting that stuff moved off her account so I can at least stop paying that 99 cents a month for storage.  

Along those lines, this morning I was reviewing her contacts to see if I needed to transfer any of those to my contacts.  I found some and sent them over to me.  One thing I was not really prepared for was finding contact info on friends no longer with us.  My Mom and Dad were there, as was Debbie, Carol, and a couple of others.  That one stopped me for a moment, and pushed me to look through my contacts to find who all I still have in there.  It was too many, and now Bride sits on the top of that list, and that fucking sucks.  So do Lyndon and Alison, my two oldest friends.  I met Alison when I was 4 and Lyndon when I was 5, she died in 2013 and he died in 2015 and I still miss them both.  If you type in Mom, Dad, Lyndon, or Alison in the little search box up in the top left corner you can read some words I wrote about them.

There was Grady, and Cary, two friends who decided this life wound up to be too hard.  I was mad at both of them for a long time, but I think with age I have learned to accept that was the choice they made.  My Mom and Dad are still in there.  There is Bob, Bishop and Brian.  Chris,  Debbie, and Don.  Doug, Eric, and Jimmy.  Ken, Larry, and Mark.  Michael, Pat, and Peter.  Randy, Roy, and Russ.  Tim, Tracy, and Wayne.

Twenty eight names in total, just sitting there in my contacts.  People that I have simply kept their contact info in my phone, even though some have been gone for decades.  It was funny because at least a few I must have transferred their contact information from an address book.  For those younger folks, that was a cardboard bound binder with places where we put people’s names, phone numbers and addresses, along with any other pertinent information.  I always picked green ones, although I cannot recall why now but there must have been a reason.

That’s when it stopped feeling like just a list. A contact list isn’t just for finding folks, it’s also an archive of the ones who shaped our lives.  Keeping someone in our contacts feels like a small act of defiance.  Kinda like we’re just not willing to let them disappear.  We spend years, in some cases a lifetime, building connections to those who end up being in our circle of humans.  We used to memorize the numbers of those closest to us, for example, I recall Lyndon’s number when we were kids being 513.663.6382. 

Now when their name pops up on our device with a text or call, we associate it with a voice, a laugh, or some memory and our heart does a little dance, especially if we have not heard from them in a while.  Deleting that name can feel like collapsing all of that history into a single, final button mash.  Leaving it in there lets the relationship breathe, exist in a different state, not active, but not erased either.  Just different.

It lines up with how memory actually works, at least for me.  Grief is not linear, and connection isn’t either.  Some days I don’t even think about them at all, other days their name pops up unexpectedly via some random trigger.  When they pop up, it can bring back a flood of memories I didn’t even realize I was carrying.  Seeing their contact does not anchor me in the past, it just keeps the electronic door open for me.  Not to stay there, but to revisit from time to time, long enough to share a laugh or even a cry with them, like what happened to me as I looked through it today.  The relationship changes, it goes from talking to them to pondering about them. 

There is something real about how our contacts list keeps growing while some of those names will never be called again, a pretty stark reality for a “contact” list.  Life keeps adding chapters but does not delete the old chapters.  Those old chapters just take on a different weight.  It almost becomes a map of all the intersections in our lives, showing where we met that first friend and how the list grew from there.  The map is also marked with the moments in time and place where folks got off our ride.  Keeping them in there acknowledges that those relationships did not end in importance to us, they ended because they ended in time.

Maybe most of all, it’s about control in a moment where so much feels out of our control.  Choosing not to delete a name is a deliberate act, as is deleting one.  I don’t think it’s denial at all, I think it is more about choosing what stays.  It is a decision they still belong in our world, even if the way they exist in it has changed.  Their name sitting there when ya scroll, as hard as it might be, shows how much that particular human meant to us when they were here.

Maybe there is a right time to remove someone, and for me I guess I learned that time is never going to be right.  Keeping them in there isn’t about reaching out, it’s just not being ready to let them go.  Who do you have in your contacts?

This is Bride's phone

Where the Ocean Takes Over the Quiet

Turns out there were a couple of things that I seem to have forgotten about sunrise at the ocean.  Maybe not as much forgot but maybe things I simply had taken for granted since I have experienced them so many times.  Either way, 55 days into my new chapter, I wanted to share some words about the ocean that I somehow had missed.  The first is that transition from the world to the beach that happens on the walk from the car to the ocean.  This stretch of ocean is not new to me, I have taken this walk more times than I can count over the 25 years Bride and I lived here, but it does not feel the same now.  

When I get out of my car, the sounds of the world exist.  Rumbling of cars driving around, the hum of air conditioners, the honking of horns, or maybe the screaming of a siren.  The pitter patter of runners, joggers and walkers and occasionally the dude who asks ya for a few bucks.  There is like a 50 foot stretch on the walk to the ocean in which the sounds of the world start to die down. They are slowly being drowned out by the sound of the ocean. 

I love that transition almost as much as the sunrise.  In those few feet, the transition is also working on my mind, my mood, and I slowly transition to the anticipation of seeing my old friend, the Atlantic.  The drowning out of the day to day of things, and the roaring up of the ocean.  It is almost like two dimmer switches operating in tandem, one going down and the other going up in perfect synchronicity.  Like an emergency generator slewing its phase to  that of the power grid before seamlessly switching back when power is restored.  I had forgotten how much I loved that short bit of the walk.

The spot I went this morning had a huge tidal pool between me and the ocean.  They are funny, and I have no idea how they form.  I am sure the google could answer that for me but sometimes I simply don’t need to know.  Sometimes they are inches deep, other times feet deep.  Today was about 18 inches, almost getting my cargo shorts wet as I walked through.  They are also very cold, I guess that is more from the overnight and the lack of connection to the warm water of the ocean.  The contrast hits harder than I remember. 

It is similar to the feeling of the sand in the morning after a rain.  The sand is cold and  mostly hardened, not the dry warm sand of the day.  I had also forgotten what a natural abrasive the beach can be.  A daily walk on the beach would not doubt save folks thousands of dollars of grinding and polishing our heels and feet before pedicures, which I am getting another one of while I am here.    

Even in winter the water here is always pretty warm, a product of the gulf stream zipping by no doubt.  The first day I was here I sat up on the dry sand, I didn’t even have a towel yet.  I resolved that by immediately buying a folding chair, like the ones at a tailgating party.  I also bought a beach towel, just in case.  Sunday and today I sat in that chair in the surf, both days the tide was coming in.  Generally I would wait until the water was deep enough to hit my butt before sliding back a bit.  Not wanting to be soaking wet, I slid back when it got half way up my calf.

There is absolute relentlessness to the tides, on the way in, it churns pebbles, sea shells and coral into sand.  On the way out, dragging seaweed, kelp and shit dumbasses leave on the beach back into the ocean.  A constant cleansing, grinding up of what was and a renewal of the beach itself by depositing new life.  And the rats with wings keeping all that in balance, I watched this morning as one snatched a small crab up and ate it.

I was surprised how different the transition from the noise of the world to the sound of the ocean hit on these first couple of days.  This beach holds more than sand and ocean for me.  Bride and I actually got remarried here at 20 years in.  There are a lot of memories here for me.  Ya can’t spend that long in a place without it holding pieces of life that ya can’t quite set down.  It was a reminder that the world has not slowed down a bit.  People are still driving too fast, worrying about meaningless things, going to meetings that feel important in the moment, and seem irrelevant five minutes later. 

And I am still in it, doing the dang things that just feel different now.  But somewhere in that walk, there is a subtle shift.  The noise fades just enough, just enough for me to actually feel what’s hidden there.  It’s not louder, just clearer.  Grief has not really shown up for me when everything is loud.  It shows up in that 50 foot window, when things finally get quiet enough that I can’t avoid it. 

And what I am realizing is that I can’t live in either place all the time.  The noise lets me function in the world, and the quiet allows the space to feel all the feels.  That short walk is where both exist at the same time.  It feels like the closest to balancing all of this I have found so far.  Not fixing anything, not escaping anything, just learning how to move between the two in a way that might become manageable.  Kinda like my own two dimmer switches trying to stay in sync, even when the system underneath is rebelling against syncing up.

I also noticed how the tidal pool this morning felt a bit like my grief.  The tidal pools are disconnected from the whole, left behind as the tide goes back to its normal place.  Some are shallow, some are deeper than we expect in the dark, and they are always colder.  That cold hits hard and lingers as we wade through.  Sure, I could have probably walked around it, maybe even picked a different spot on the beach to avoid it, but sooner or later you just have to step on in, without overthinking it.  I don’t understand why some moments hit harder than others or why the water is colder in some areas than in others.  I don’t need a clear explanation for them, how they form or why they stick around or move, I simply accept that they do.

The abrasion bit, that one is real too.  The whole thing is wearing me down in slow, almost unnoticeable ways.  Or maybe not wearing me down as much as forming me into something new. Not anything catastrophic or all at once, just a constant knocking off of the edges and maybe even a bit of polishing.  The routines, the memories, and all the little mundane things that used to be automatic now seem to take more effort than before, all the history always popping in to remind me of my loss.  In some ways I know it’s not all bad, this is a part of the ride for all of us. 

That does not mean it does not suck, and it does not mean we don’t have to keep moving forward.  The friction some days feels like 36 grit on an angle grinder, just whacking away at it all.  Other days it feels like the methodicalness of 1600 grit on a whetstone with a chisel or block plane blade.  Not sure where beach sand lives on the grit scale but I know it is my favorite of grits.  Even walking on partially crushed up shells, I keep moving forward but I am aware of every step.   

The ocean does not rush it, and I am starting to see that I don’t need to either.  The dimmers are still there, one going up and the other going down, just not moving together the way they used to.  And ya know what, Im starting to think that’s not something I need to fix.  Maybe I just need to keep writing my three things, keep taking that walk, and let it find its own rhythm. 

And, all of this sucks.

 

Bride and Her Control Chair

Bride had what she called the control chair.  If you have ever watched The Big Bang Theory, think Sheldon’s spot, only he was an amateur at it compared to Sandy. 

I got to laughing today about it, which felt nice to do, so I thought I would write about it.  IT felt good, unexpectedly good.  I think the funniest thing I learned over the last few weeks about it was that none of her friends even knew about it.  This was evidently something only shared with me, but it has been a thing since we lived together in the barracks rooms at the Naval Radio Transmitter Facility, or NRTF in acronym or NavRadTransFac.  Our call sign was NSS9 and we were  right across the Severn River from the Naval Academy.

I will admit now that I am not sure I know all the rules that went into determining how a control chair was selected, but I can share what I do know.   So, every place had one, in our home she had four of them, each selected with purpose, I say purpose because room layout and décor were oft times selected based on the location of the control chair, I never did fully understand the full matrix.   

They existed in other people’s homes, and on back porches.  They existed in hotel rooms, and in beach chairs and they existed on airplanes.  She even had one in our front yard at Smithlandia, hahaha, in the middle of the wilderness that one always made me laugh.

One thing I did notice, although it was not a hard and fast rule, is that she was mostly to my right, we could hold hands and we’d thumb wrestle if something needed to be settled.  Which seemed odd because she was always on my left when walking because we deliberately decided those hands felt better than the other ones when being held.  We had reasons for all sorts of silly things.

She also slept on my left side, even in that barracks bunk bed we started out in.  Yeah, we snuck into each other’s rooms in the barracks pretty much every night, me at the top of the stairs and her at the bottom, boys upstairs and girls downstairs.  Hahaha.  I guess in some ways that was a control spot as well.

The control chair at the dining room table was always the one closest to the kitchen.  She even had control chairs in restaurants.  She would not have a view of the kitchen or the bathrooms.  I would not even be able to count the number of times we swapped tables.  Hahaha, she had high standards and did not budge on them. 

I have been spending time in her control chairs, and Larry seems to like that and it makes me smile thinking about what her reaction would be.  I do know it would include a look like this one, a look I’d do about anything to see again.  

       

A Life Well Lived is Truly Built on the Small and Mostly Mindless Moments we Mostly Take for Granted

There have been many big things in my way since the 21^st of April.  They have been front and center, right there, rigidly resting on bedrock and firmly in my way.  They are known, most are hard, and very solvable with time and effort because they are the obstacle in my way.  To quote Marcus Aurelius, “The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way."  So, I am advancing through the action of doing those things.  They have been hard and many but mostly it has been a task driven list.   

The thing I have noticed the most over the last three weeks is how many small, unexpected little things I have been tripping over.  Tripping because they are not big enough to be an obstacle in my way.  I feel that even the cumulative effect of tripping, falling, and getting back up again is still not an obstacle.  It is just something we all do in our lives, stumble, gain footing, and continue on the journey without giving the cause much thought. 

The things I am tripping over now are much more than just a stumble, they feel like harsh reminders of how many silly little things I have taken for granted.  The things that never really made a list, the things that just lived in the corners, in the mundanity of life we rarely even notice, until they are gone.  Now they are gone for me, I am surprised when I trip over them and wonder how I could have not been cherishing those moments more.

Things like adjusting the air or heat before going to bed, she had a narrow comfort range.  Or making sure we always had plenty of supplies so she would never run out of soap, trash bags, razor blades, body wash, and a million other things.  OK, I will probably continue that, the Navy baked that into my DNA so…  Or texting her a picture from the car wash that simply said “current state” in either my car or hers.  Always making sure her car had gas, that she had Coke, sugar free.

Sending pictures I did a lot.  Sometimes of her, once in the place where Larry gets groomed, I went around and hid behind things and texted her a picture of herself, having already moved to the next spot, hahaha.  She texted back “stop that ya dumbass”.   I sent her pictures of sunrise all the time.  She loved sunrise but hated getting up early more so she got plenty of pictures. 

Seeing someone that just needed to have a life story built for them and then subsequently be judged for the life we made up about them.  I saw a dude the other day on O street, I was sure he got his ass whooped in 6^th grade and would have enjoyed building out his life up to the point I saw him with her.

I am still making sure the shower curtains are just so when I get out and I am finding that I am closing the door to the pantry and cabinet doors.  That was something that drove her crazy when I didn’t.  I am washing my clothes in cold water, even though I never thought that made any difference anyway.  There are still a number of things she wanted to do to the house, I will go ahead and do those, even though I am not sure I will even stay in this house.  I have committed to not making any big decisions for at least six months so I got a bit of time.

Being in the house is hard, because of all the small things.  In case you did not know, I was not the picker in our lives.  Not of colors on the walls, not of furniture, not of stuff hanging on the walls, and not the way any of the décor was arranged or anything else.  I would do the work, painting, hanging things, moving furniture, swapping doors or installing new moldings but was not the picker.   Every room in this house has a 100 reminders of her, and that is hard.  My only reprieve from that is here in my office, that is the one place I did get to choose.   I have done nothing, except hang a picture and the story of H.O. Studley’s toolbox, and yes I built that frame.  I first read about that in Fine Woodworking magazine and was simply amazed by his talent.  Here is a bit about that H.O. Studley tool box.

That is also where I am right now, pecking away on a keyboard typing about my Honey.  All the small things feel like death by a thousand cuts.  I am a woodworker and old car mechanic so I have experience with that, but these cut a bit deeper and seem to not be closing up as fast. 

I go to my first grief session Sunday that focuses on the loss of a spouse.  I am both terrified and hopeful at the same time.  As I have said, I recognize I am on a new path, and I have no idea where its heading, no idea of the terrain, no idea of how long the path is or where it will end up, so one step a time, three things on a list every day is helping.  I am trying to make sure at least one a day includes forward motion and not just motion. 

Fuckity fuck fuck!!  I sure do miss ya BB

 

 

The Power of a Box

This is a repost from something I put on FB on May 4th over to here.

Last night I received the text and picture below from a Brother from another Mother, we talked afterwards. Damn dude, thanks for the cry and I love ya!  ❤️❤️

The Power of a Box

It is not only the label on a box that describes what is in it, it is also the quality of the box that represents the importance of what is contained within.

This is a beautiful box inside and out.

Outside the craftsmanship is up to the Smitty standard.

Inside the box is pure beauty, dreams, memories, great times, kindness, courage, boldness, love, laughs and beyond the Smitty standard.

The Power of this Box is beyond words.

Sandy Smith, The Most Amazing Woman Ever

I posted this on FB, I wanted to include this in the story of my loss.  I wrote this the day after and I did not edit it for posting here.

Sandy, my Beautiful Bride, passed away Tuesday afternoon.  She was the most amazing and courageous woman I have ever known, and she was the ABSOLUTE love of my life.

From the moment anyone met Sandy, they noticed the light, the spark, the thing that was immediately noticeable and unmistakably her.  She showed up in the world to play, fully herself and without pretense or filters.  As she loved to say, she would tell anyone exactly “how the cow ate the cabbage,” If they needed it, and at the same time she could do it with honesty, warmth, and always with a twinkle in her eye.

Sandy loved deeply and without limits.  She loved spending time with me, with family and friends, and with all the people she held closest.  She adored her seven siblings with her whole heart.  She embraced life as an adventure, whether that meant moving to Oregon for a Pacific Northwest chapter or heading to Nebraska for what she simply said “A Midwest adventure, we don’t have one of those yet.”

She lived life full blast, pedal to the metal all the time.  Sandy never held back, never let obstacles slow her down, and never installed a governor on any aspect of her life.  She laughed easily, especially at the chaos and absurdities of life, at smart‑aleck humor, and at the simple happiness that dumb ass Larry O brought her.   We loved people watching, building a whole life story for each person, then passing judgement on that made up life, based on nothing more than a glance as someone walked by.

Sandy was the bravest and most courageous human I have ever known.  She faced immense challenges with strength and determination, overcoming addiction born from prescription pain medication after back surgery, battling bipolar disorder with the constant chasing for the right cocktail of medicines to make life work for her, and enduring a series of serious health issues in recent years.  Every day, she got up, faced what was in front of her, pushed back the demons, and refused to let anything stop her, or even slow her down, from living her life on her terms.  Her perseverance was equal parts quiet determination, loud obstinance and relentlessness.  And it was all inspiring to those who knew her.

We met while stationed at a small Navy base in Annapolis, Maryland.  From there we built a life together that spanned 38 years, a life full of movement, laughter, and love. I spent every one of those years doing my best to keep her on a pedestal, where she belonged.  To me, she was beautiful inside and out, my Beautiful Bride in every sense of the word.

Sandy made rooms brighter just by being in them. She made people feel seen, told the truth with heart, and loved without reservation. Her life was a reminder to live boldly, love fiercely, tell the truth, and keep going, even when the road is hard as hell.

She leaves behind a love that was expansive, an absence that is immense, and a legacy of authenticity, courage, and joy that will continue to ripple through everyone who was lucky enough to know her.  She made me a better man, husband and friend

I will miss ya BB, till my last breath

Sandra Schwab Smith 4/29/1957 - 4/21/2026

Nearly Three Weeks In - A Few More Firsts and a Couple of Decisions and Progress Forward

Nearly three weeks in and I have taken a few more steps, three a day, had some more firsts, and made a couple of decisions.  It all still seems surreal and feels so weird that BB is gone.  I have not been alone since the day after, thanks again for all the support, I cannot imagine what this would be like without that.  

Last week two of Brides’ best friends from Jacksonville were here and it was great.  We played some cards, rummy which Bride and I played all the time and some three handed spades, which I have never played with three hands and a ghost hand.   When playing rummy, I learned that some of Brides “house rules” were 100% made up.  We have been using them for so long I never even questioned them, and I am sticking with them.  She was really good at cards, regardless of the game.  We had her picture at the end of the table, watching over us.  We went to Sandy’s favorite breakfast joint, Cooks Café, a few times. 

I had a couple of firsts last week that seemed odd but that I needed to take.  First was a trip to Sandy’s nail place with one of her best friends.  I have never had a Pedi.  I have always done them myself, and truth be told, it didn’t suck.  I think I may make that a monthly routine.  Toes are done in two different colors of purple, a lighter metal flake and a dark purple.  My method, just cover the nails and not worrying about keeping it off my skin.  In a couple of days, all of that would just flake off anyway.  It was funny, it was almost like a 2-stage paint job on a car.  Primer coat, base coat and clear, never did that either, always been a single stage dude.  

We also went to the Omaha zoo, which is pretty damn amazing.  Largest in the country, which I did not know.  Largest indoor rainforest and largest indoor desert I seem to recall seeing.  It was on Bride’s list and it was nice to see it with two of her best friends.  If you ever find yourself in Omaha, make that a spot ya go see.

While my Niece was here we got the big bed along the fence seeded with 4 pounds of wildflower seeds, native to here and great for the pollinators.  I have been watering those twice a day and there are all kinds of things popping up.  Bride had a vision for that bed that I am committed to seeing that through.  I also planted a bunch of sunflowers back there, 12 footers, 7 footers and 5 footers.  They have not sprouted yet.  I also need to finish installing the sprinkler zone to ensure I don’t accidently kill all of them.  Everything lined up and measured, perfectly spaced and fully symmetrical, she was quite OCD about that sort of thing.

 So, I am going back to work this week, not sure how that will go.  I am a bit terrified as I suspect folks will want to say something, and I am not sure how I will react to that.   Could be fine, it could he hard and it might turn the water works on.  I just know it will be hard.  I think day one will be a half day, maybe even the whole week.  I have already had coffee with a few folks on my team and my boss to test the waters on how that will go, so we will see how it goes tomorrow.

I am also picking a date this week to have her celebration of life.  I am thinking it will be early in June but that it is yet to be determined but I am choosing when this week.  It will also be streamed online, which still seems weird to me but being so far from everyone that will work out, I think.  When I speak to them about that, I am also going to see if I can add a peace sign and the words my friend wrote about “The Power of a Box”

For those who read the blog about Sandy’s car title escapades, it is in here a few down if you’re interested.  Anyway, we finally got Nebraska tags for her car and she was mobile again, and pretty damn happy about that I might add.  She was on her 4^th or 5^th trip when on her way home a 20 something year old kid side swiped her car.  I took it to get quotes and was told almost immediately that it would be totaled.  It is a 2011 Ford escape with 100k miles on it.  It has been an amazing car since we bought it in 2013.  Insurance says if it costs more that $3,200 to fix, they will total it. 

We talked a lot about options, the repair was going to be $5,800.  We explored just not having a car and Uber’ing about, she HATED that option.  We also did not want a car payment or to spend the dough outright on a new one.  We also knew we could never find a used car that was cared for and in as good a shape as hers.  Ultimately, we had decided to fix it and I was due to drop it off on Wednesday, the day after she passed.  I did not do that.  Now I don’t need another vehicle, so I decided to donate it.  Lincoln public schools only have auto mechanics classes, no body shop classes.  SE community college on the other hand does, I have been working with them, and we are targeting Tuesday for actually handing it off to them.   That is the third vehicle we have donated to schools.

I sure do miss her, my heart aches nearly all the time.  Another thing I am doing this week is spending time alone, for the first time since all of this started.  I have been surrounded by friends and family since the day after and I cannot imagine what that would have been like without that, I will forever be in their debt.  I also have a list of others who will come in time.  I feel like the next step is spending time alone with my thoughts, while I have a great back porch here it is nothing like the ponder porch or the ocean.  The location matters little really.  This part is about sitting with it and sorting out what comes next in my life.  It feels a bit scary but I know these steps need to be taken, I am going to keep on going, not slowing down.  She modeled that so easily, like slipping on an old comfy tee shirt.  DAMN I miss that girl!

Oh, and I bought a gold chain necklace and have Brides rings on them, I have not worn a necklace since my Navy days when I wore a St. Christopher.  Every jeweler I went to wanted me to leave it so they could solder on a hoop so they hang straight.  I didn’t like the idea of that.  I do not want those rings out my sight, didn’t want anyone messing with them.  So, I just put them on the chain, they twist a bit, sit however they want to, at least for now.  Maybe I can find someone to do it while I wait, or maybe I wait until I can leave them for a day to get that work done.  They are where they belong and that feels right. 

Two weeks In, Trying to Make It Feel Real

So yesterday I thought I would try to make all of this feel real, it hasn’t yet felt that way to me.  It’s been more like a bad dream that I cannot wake up from. 

First of all, I cannot thank Y’all enough for the outpouring of love and support, the physical presence, the random texts, the emails, the DMs, we were truly blessed by the universe to have so many chosen and actual family and friends who cared about us.  

I mentioned that I have taken three steps every day, which seems now like a lot of motion but I am not sure if it was forward motion.  Yesterday I decided to take one small step that was unmistakably forward. 

I threw away her toothbrush, 4 different times. 

First, I tossed it in the bathroom trash can.  Then I immediately pulled it back out again, thinking she would kill me if I did that to her toothbrush.  Later, I tried again in the same trash can.  I left it there for about 30 minutes and pulled it out again, still unable to do it. 

Then I dropped it in the laundry room trash can, where it stayed for another 30 minutes.  DAMN IT!  I pulled it back out again, I was starting to wonder if I could take this step or not.  Then I remembered yesterday was the day recycling gets picked up, so I went out and tossed it in the recycling can, shook it so it would fall to the bottom and wheeled that to the curb.   Thankfully the truck came and gathered it up before I could run out and try to pull it out again.

Of all of my steps so far, I believe that one tangibly moved me forward, towards the inevitable acceptance that my Beautiful Bride is gone.  It is so weird to think about.  Even weirder to type or say out loud.  

This morning, I tossed her razor in the trash, and since today is trash day, I wheeled that to the curb.  It was hard but it was easier than that damn toothbrush, that needed replaced anyway.

I have said a number of times that I don’t even know who I am without her.  Last night, a Brother from another Mother shared a story when someone told him, over and over, after a life event hurt him, that he was going to be OK.  It was a beautiful story of his friend supporting him because the friend knew who he was, at his core.  His friend knew he had the strength to work through that challenging moment in his life and come out the other side. 

After telling the story, he said, “Duane is going to be OK” several times. 

Upon reflecting on those six words I realized, I do indeed know who I am.   Bride was instrumental in defining who I am, fundamentally, I am still her Smit.  And Smit is going to be OK.  I am going to find ways to honor the many parts of who I am that she helped define over the nearly 4 decades of hanging out together, I was but 23 when we met so that is a lot a definition.

I have no idea how I will make my way back to OK.  But I know, absolutely know, that I will and that comes as a great relief to my heart.  

I was reminded by a morning text I received, sometimes it’s three steps forward, one step back.  And most times that step backwards is needed for something.  So, the important thing for me right now is to just keep taking the steps. 

Maybe tomorrow I will throw out her deodorant. 

Weird, the impact of a stupid fucking toothbrush and a razor can have, it almost makes me laugh.  When we first moved into an apartment together, we had a weekly airing of grievances.  The very first week my very first grievance was that she did not always put the lid on the toothpaste, that drove me crazy.  So, our simply solution was to each have our own tube of toothpaste, problem solved.  From that day forward, we had separate tubes of toothpaste, even different brands. 

New Firsts, Entry Two, 12 Days in

 It has been 12 days since Bride passed and I am just starting to share bits of this experience, one step at a time.  This is the second one of what will most likely be a bunch of these related to my journey moving forward, without Bride.  I am optimistic that I will get to a point where I can share more about our 38 years of adventures and journey together but I am not ready to do that just yet. 

The things that stand out in each of those days so far is the new firsts.  Everything seems to be a first, first time doing pretty much anything without Bride.  It started when I got home from work on the 21^st when I immediately called 911 and began CPR, with the 911 operator on the phone with me, that was a first.  EMT’s, Lincoln police deputies, Lancaster county Sherriff folks, and County Coroner folks all being in my house all at the same time, that was a first.  Answering what seemed like an endless list of questions, some about Bride, some about me and a lot about what happened, never did any of that before.  Being checked out by EMT’s, temp, oxygen concentrations levels, blood pressure, something looking at my heart with little things stuck all over my chest and legs, while sequestered in my office, new firsts.

Being comforted for my loss by two Lincoln police officers, Margaret and Jeff, no idea what their last names were but they spent what seemed like a few hours supporting me and I hugged them both when they left.  I was also comforted by a Sherriff's office chaplain whose name was Julie.  I don’t remember much of what any of them said but I do remember them being present and sharing space with me, and that was very comforting.  I also remember Julie helping me make the first few very difficult phone calls I had to make.  She stayed with me, sitting on the back porch watching the sun go down until about 930pm.  I have watched thousands of sunsets, some with Bride some by myself or others, but that day, the sunset felt very different, another first without Bride.  I am so glad that I instinctively snapped a few pictures of it, and my first thought when I did, to share them with Bride, not being able to, another first.  

One of the questions I was asked was about which funeral home I wanted to use, being new to Lincoln, I had no idea.  I learned they have an on-call rotation of funeral homes for situations exactly like this.  On that day it was Roper and Son’s, and I remember Logan asking me lots of questions and he too was very comforting.   When Sandy’s Mom died, I recall how she jumped into action to get those arrangements made, it was important work  to do and it was important to Sandy to do them, even after just losing her mother.  I had also watched Bride make lists for all sorts of things, so I picked up a pad and started a list of things to do.  To do my best to honor her courage when her Mom passed, I told Logan I would be by the very next afternoon to make the arrangements, we settled on 2pm.   

After Julie left, and I was all alone there was a knock on the door, my neighbor Jacob and his wife.  We know each other and are starting a friendship, which I find harder to do the older I get.  He did not say a word, just wrapped me up in a big ole bear hug and did not let go.  I cried and cried and he held on until I started to let go.  That human moment was exactly what I needed in that moment, and I will be forever grateful he gave me that unexcepted and much needed gift.  We traded a few words, none of which I remember, and they headed back next door.

I was sitting in the living room by myself and could not get the image of finding Bride out of my head.  Not sure how I thought to go find a bunch of my favorite pictures of Sandy on my devices, but I did.  I uploaded them to Walgreens to print out as 8x10’s, thinking I would pick them up in the morning, wrong, I got a text 7 minutes later that they were ready, so I ran up and got them, along with a bunch of frames. 

I sat in the living room with those pictures of her scattered around the room.   I can no longer see the images of her when I found her, I can recall it happening, I can describe the event but I can’t see her that way anymore.  I don’t know if it was the pictures or my brain protecting me from the trauma of that event or both, I guess it does not matter because I can no longer see it, and I count that as a blessing from the universe.

I did not sleep well at all and got up super early and sat on the front porch waiting for the sun to come up.  Like the night before, this one felt different, it was the dawning of a new day, in so many different ways than all the others, another first. 

The house seemed so large and so empty, I kept moving to different rooms to try to shake that feeling, another first.  This is when I realized, or maybe it was just acknowledging that I must be in shock.  I was unable to even understand what was happening, let alone begin to process all the feels and all the emotions that were flooding into my brain.  Each going 900 miles an hour, colliding with each other making me unable to function. 

My best friend, Mark arrived at 10am from Rhode Island, we have been friends since the early 90’s and Bride loved him too.  By noon thirty Sandy’s best friend Kathy from Oregon arrived along with my Nephew Chad from Vancouver Washington.  Looking back now I am not even sure how any of them pulled that off so fast and I sure as hell am glad they did though as being alone that morning was difficult.

I also had someone to come with me to Roper and Son’s to sort through the details of the next steps.  Sandy has a big family in Texas, with at least 60 or 70 folks, 7 siblings, their kids, and then those kids kids.  Knowing that, I asked for the ashes to be split and put into two identical urns with one being shipped to her older sister Suzanne.  So, after all the details were sorted I came away with things that I needed to provide, music, pictures and a few other things, they went on the list.  I spent time calling folks, our actual and chosen families and those calls were so hard but I was determined to take three steps forward every day so I did not get stuck in hell. 

Those first few days were simply a blur, the only real things I remember from the second day was picking up my Sister Karen and a Brother from another Mother Scott from the airport, they had come in from Ohio and Florida.  Then came my Niece Amanda, and tomorrow Conny and after that, Judy.  I also remember feeling loved and supported more than anything else.   

With all the calls I made, I got advice and things to think about, they all went on the list of things.  One nugget I got from a few folks was to create a list of folks who want to come and time those out so you have a longer time before you have to be alone.  It is crazy to think about but that list has like 15 people on it.  Our dear friend Conny sent groceries to the house, she lives in Florida. 

Being surrounded by people we loved and that loved us was so very helpful.  I will forever be in their debt for just coming, without fanfare or question, just got a plane and came to support and comfort me in any way they could.  And they did, and I know they felt supported and loved by me and the others, some of whom had never met each other before.  There has been crying and quiet contemplation of what the world would be like without Sandy in it.  There has also been lot’s of laughter and telling of stories, so many shared experiences from everyone with my Honey.   

I am still writing down my three steps each morning, somedays I get more in but at least three.  Each day it seems a little easier, but I know I am only fooling myself.  I feel like I have motion but I am not sure each step is actually moving me forward, but I am going to just keep moving until it is moving forward.  I got two recommendations for grief support groups, it seems weird but I am going one of those a try, I plan on doing the in person ones vs the internet based ones.

Yesterday I got the large flower bed along the back of our property sown with Nebraska native wildflowers that are supposed to be excellent for the pollinators, that was Bride’s idea.  I bought a new bed yesterday.  I have also been chugging through the notifications and adjustments to business relationships, the credit union, the gas and water bills and what not.  I still have more of those to do but I am making progress.  It was very hard to mash a web site button that said “Remove Sandy” from this account.  As She would say, FUCKITY FUCK FUCK!!!