Author: ferylfiles

Waves Still Crash

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This morning, as I stood in my kitchen listening to Chris Stapleton serenade me while I drank my coffee, I looked over at our breakfast table. Bryan’s chair has a basket of clean towels I need to fold resting on it. The lyrics “Time keeps tickin’ on by so slow They say it’ll heal you, but I hope it don’t though” punched me in the gut. And then the tears started. The warmth and cadence of Bryan’s voice, talking about everything, his endless curiosity seeking out what I thought, the way his eyes would light up at me like I was the most beautiful woman on earth–they are so astonishing in their absence, his absence. My kitchen, filled with music and memories, is empty without him here.

The rhythm of regular days, working, walking, dancing, singing, tending cats, gardening, cooking, cleaning (not as much as I should), paying bills, discovering new expenses, whack-a-moling the problems and surprises that arise all fill space; they don’t fill his space. And they don’t erase the ache that is now a permanent feature to my heart. My God, I miss him so much.

“…and a time to dance…”

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There’s a passage in Ecclesiastes I’m particularly fond of. It appeals to both my Adventist upbringing and my unintended pagan tendencies. Seasons mark our calendars and our lives, each one in its own time. There truly is a time for everything–“a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance…”

Last night was absolutely a time to dance and I experienced a really interesting first–baby’s first rave. Yes, even here in itty bitty Wally World there are raves. Rave culture is a fascinating subculture with glow-in-the-dark bracelets and glitter and heavy bass and so much dancing. There are definitely those who participate in “supplements,” as a good buddy of mine described, in order to lower inhibitions and enhance other sensations, but honestly, for me, plenty of water, spirit, and enthusiasm and I was good to go. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time. It is an incredibly vulnerable thing to allow oneself to lay things down for a moment long enough to play, just be, and to get temporarily lost in a chest-vibrating-bass beat.

It certainly didn’t hurt to have the coolest gay guy in the place pay my dancing and exuberance high compliments. And even more fun to go with a friend who made the experience for this stranger in a strange land to be welcomed and included in such a hospitable way. I will go again because what absolute fun. But I’ll probably wait until my left hip heals a little first. Ha!

Recipes

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I love looking up and trying out new recipes I find on the internet. I’m always checking for which ones have the highest ratings, the most number of reviews, and most definitely a “JUMP TO RECIPE” button as I’m not terribly interested in full life stories right before dinner. I appreciate that I can read a couple reviews and know which spice to double or what isn’t necessary. Bryan and I used to chuckle about the review/comment sections and how it seemed very much like church ladies kibbitzing at a potluck. My big brother is very organized with his recipes and the best ones get added to an app. My sister likes to look over about five different recipes for the same thing and then glean out the best ideas to come up with her own. For me, once I find a winner, and it has to be WORTHY, I handwrite it in the special cookbook my bonus mom gave me YEARS ago. This will be magnum opus. Maybe…

That’s the great thing about recipes, we come to them with our own tastes, experiences and preferences. I’m never shy about sharing a recipe with people because I know it will be different than what I make. It’s just the nature of individuals. That’s how I feel about sharing my experiences with grief. This is how I’ve been doing it. Maybe it’s helpful to some. Maybe it’s a hard pass for others. That’s okay. These are my recipes.

This weekend marked another important, painful milestone. I put Bryan’s skis away. A piece of me feels lilke I keep losing him again and again. Other pieces know it’s important to keep moving forward and that looking at those skis hurt, too. He’s still here in my heart and mind. I haven’t lost that and this Friday we get to share time and memories together; we’ve got that.

As far as recipes goes, I firmly believe in adding double the vanilla, or (fresh) garlic, or laughter, or joy nuggets and most definitely love. As Bryan would say, “your mileage may vary.”

[If you get a little extra out of my writing, you’re welcome to add to my virtual tip jar here: https://venmo.com/u/Rebecca-Lubbers-1]

A High Price and Worth It

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I enjoy scrolling through Instagram for funnies to share with my people. I want to bring humor and levity–life is heavy and hard, bringing laughter and lightness makes me feel good. Sometimes while I’m there, though, I get little nuggets of wisdom and this one from author Ali Smith really struck me: “When you have love in the equation, you also have death in the equation. The love story is always about the threat and promise of loss.”

“The promise of loss” stood out the most. Every relationship has loss for one reason or another. It’s broken off. The people grow and change and the relationship that was is no longer (maybe it’s a new one). Or somebody dies. For every single relationship, the loss is built in. So then why do we do it? Why do we love? Why do we build relationships with people? Because it’s worth it.

I watched my husband’s life slip through my fingers like sand and I have never known a pain more excruciating. I couldn’t fix it and I couldn’t heal him. Once he was gone I had to piece some version of a life without him which was antithetical to every choice I had made for the fourteen years prior. And I would choose him all over again knowing what was coming because we were worth it. The life we built was filled with joy, laughter, amazing meals shared with friends, travel, play, delight, curiosity, hard work, anger, frustration, tears, passion, and a few cats.

Knowing that loss is built in, I ask myself if I would be open to loving like that again. My answer is yes. It may be a high price, but it’s worth it. Life with love is so much richer than a life without it.

Beer, Trees, and Bryan

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I’ve set up an event on Facebook, but I realize there are those who aren’t local or don’t use that platform that might want to know. Mary and I were chatting a while back trying to think of a new way to celebrate Bryan. We thought of Bryan’s love for trees and decided to do a little something on Arbor Day–Friday, April 26th.

With that in mind, we’ve decided to invite folks to join us out at Quirk https://www.quirkbrewing.com/ a local brewery in Walla Walla starting at 6pm and going until at least 8pm. Buy yourself a beer or dinner at Agapas, gather with friends and loved ones to share stories and memories of Bryan, raise a glass with us. And if you’d like to, join us in donating to the Scribner Fund for Walla Walla Trees which aids in the City of Walla Walla’s care, maintenance and replacement of our urban forest, a project near and dear to Bryan’s heart.

If you’re out of town and can’t make it, maybe carve a little time out of your Arbor Day evening to raise a glass of beer (or whatever suits you) and toast Bryan and his memory. You can donate to the Scribner Fund for Walla Walla Trees here: https://bmcf.fcsuite.com/erp/donate/create/fund?funit_id=1407 or you could donate to something similar in your own community in support of trees.

Gathering in community, conversing, debating, laughing, asking probing questions–these were some of Bryan’s favorite things. Let’s do them still for him.