Author: ferylfiles

I’ve been dreading these milestones, but my family and friends have done a bang-up job to remind me that I’m loved and there is still so much in life to celebrate–family, friends, cats, cake, friends’ successes, spring, art, creativity, humor, love.

First things first–Mary has just come back from a conference for librarians and library staff in Washington state where she rocked a presentation and an evening break-out session. I don’t think there’s any greater gift than to see your kid happy and full of purpose and hear the pride in her voice.

Yesterday, a small bunch of us gathered at our friends’ place for a birthday brunch. It was the perfect size for this introvert. I had a couple of tearful hiccups wishing Bryan were there. The food, conversation, company, cards, gifts were exceptional and full of love and humor.

Today, both my brother, Craig, and sister, Emilie, celebrated with me in their own, loving ways. Craig made the bagels, the ones we had made when he was here, for his family. I love that so much. Emilie and I listened to Ella Fitzgerald, Billy Joel, and Elton John most of the day while painting watercolors for our Mom’s fundraiser in May. I think we painted for about eight hours–a blissful way to get out of my own head. A friend dropped by with gorgeous flowers. Another friend came with a piece of cake from the Patisserie (can you tell I like it there?)

Text messages, messages on Facebook and Instagram, cards–people have been so incredibly loving with their words and actions and I feel it. Boy do I ever. The tears happen often, so do the dancing and singing.

Bryan and I loved cooking together. Whether it was throwing big dinner parties or just making our weeknight meals, we enjoyed being in the kitchen and composing together. Moving around the kitchen was like a graceful waltz with frequent affectionate touches and butt grabs. While Bryan was sick, I was in the kitchen alone. It was another way his cancer put a line under the things we were losing. I enjoyed making him every delicious thing he asked for or I had the energy to make. But cooking for me, or cooking for joy was not the same. That’s part of loss and grief that is so hard to grapple with. I knew who I was with him. I knew what it looked like to cook meals with him. Here is a new reality. He is gone. Who am I in this space without his physical presence? Without him grabbing my ass as we sweep by each other?

Tonight I had friends over for a meal. Part of me was dreading it, I’m a little ashamed to admit. I was a cook and host with Bryan. I am also a cook and host now, too. There are questions of betrayal for moving on or for doing things that we loved together without him. But I’m still here. And I love to cook. So I did. And it was good.

I made this: https://www.lecremedelacrumb.com/oven-baked-chicken-thighs/#wprm-recipe-container-48122 with some roasted carrots and jasmine rice. I can tell you if a recipe has butter and heavy cream, you probably won’t be disappointed. It may wrap around your heart like a hug, but life is flipping short. Eat cream and butter. I served Adamant’s albarino to accompany. My friends brought a salad. We had a special gateau from the Patisserie for dessert. Conversation was lively and lovely. This home Bryan and I worked so hard to make warm, cheerful, and welcoming still is. It’s different. I wish he were here. But I am still here and I will continue the things that we both loved because I love them.

Bryan loved the original Star Trek and I enjoyed watching it with him. His fondness for Spock is legendary. Mary’s mom once made him a costume for Halloween. We still have the prosthetic ears and glue somewhere in a bathroom cupboard. Bryan often echoed Spock’s cool logic and reason. He could engage with all sorts of people and use his analytical mind and rational persuasion to change opinions or at least cause some to reassess their opinions, no mean feat.

My favorite character, however, is Bones. The temperamental, Southern doctor is all passion and temper supported by intelligence and wit. I find it delightful how well matched Bryan and I were. And the best part is that Bryan was passion and temper, too. And I could be cool reason when the moment called.

That struggle between brain and heart is well-traveled terrain because that’s the whole of the human experience, isn’t it? I am overwrought with grief and guilt that my heart, my love was not enough to heal the person I loved most in the world. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t. And I tried. My brain gently insists, um Becci, no one can heal what Bryan had. But my heart is having a hard time hearing it.

We have the venue and the catering lined up for Bryan’s service. This is such a relief and a reminder of how loved Bryan was/is/was/is. Damn, I hate verb tenses right now. HATE. The love still is and will be. Gah. I was nervous about tackling the venue/catering items because I want things to be just right and the sort of party Bryan would have wanted. But my biggest concerns have been calmed. We have speakers for the formal program who are, for lack of a better description, Bryan’s brothers. Bryan was an only child, but he had a knack for choosing to surround himself with people of integrity and honor. I look forward to what each has to say. We will have music, food, and beverages that Bryan loved. We will visit and laugh and cry and tell stories in community. I still have some pretty big tasks left to do, but they seem much more manageable now.

In the meantime, I will bake and paint and create and write.

Life comes in layers. Onions? Parfait? Beauty, pain, grief, joy, delight. Today would be my Mom’s 82nd birthday. She’s been gone since the fall of 2007. Today was also the day Mary and I went to clean out Bryan’s office. Thankfully, David, Richele, and Natasha provided support, presence, humor. I may have said “too easy” through clenched teeth a time or two. Bryan had worked for Whitman College over 25 years and his collection of cords, books, notepads, sailboat calendars testified to that. While the whole process took less than an hour from packing boxes to filling cars, it felt like a lifetime compressed. What even is time?

The boxes and bags will linger in the car until I’m ready to face that next step. We only have to do these hard things once. Thank goodness. Mary and I decompressed with a meal and a walk. I am lucky beyond measure to have such an extraordinarily kind, loving, smart step-daughter. I would not have survived these past months without her. Without question. And whoever is for her, I am for them.

Bryan had many curious items, but a couple of my favorites were core samples taken from the Maxey renovation that he asked if he could have from the contractors. He used these as lamp bases. Bryan was never a fan of stark overhead light. He created a warm glow wherever he could. His messy office was no different. These cylanders of concrete and composite looked like pieces of art. Mary said she could almost hear him ask “can I have those?” They will now be part of her garden art and flower pot displays. Apt use of something seen by many as garbage but by Bryan and the two of us a slice of history and a bit of unexpected art. The unexpected layers are often the most beautiful.