A Sad Anniversary

For some time I’ve known I was going to write a blog on this, the one-year anniversary of my Vince’s death.  I think I had even roughed out a draft in my head. Which is a complete waste of time because I can never ever remember my perfectly phrased and clever composition when I finally sit down in front of the computer.

 

But when I opened my blog document and entered the date, I found I couldn’t get past it. No words would come.

 

So I forced myself to at least start.

 

And that’s what the past year has been. I’ve been forcing myself to start – over and over again. Every day.

 

It’s hard. And it’s painful. And I can’t believe I’ve done this for an entire year.

 

But what I’ve discovered is that I’m stronger than I thought I could be. And I’ve managed to accomplish a lot – even though I didn’t think I could get beyond waking up and brushing my teeth and walking the dog. Hair washing was optional. And the only reason I wore actual clothes instead of my pajamas every day was I figured the neighbors would start talking and worrying a little bit about my sanity.

 

In the past year, I cleaned out and sold my too-big house. And I’ve managed to make my smaller abode a nice haven that feels warm and welcoming.

 

Experts say one shouldn’t make any drastic changes in their life after the death of a loved one. Well, I’m apparently not one to listen to the experts.

 

Because moving – for me – was one of my better decisions. I’m completely and utterly relieved that I don’t have to worry about keeping my too-big house clean on the inside and repairing and replacing things on my own. Not to mention maintaining the outside – pulling weeds or planting anything. (If you know me, you know I do not like digging in the dirt!)

 

I knew I’d miss my neighborhood. The friends I’ve made there are special.

 

But, without Vince, I knew I needed to simplify my life.

 

Certainly, I didn’t accomplish this all on my own. I had a squad of friends, family and neighbors who were there to support me – in person or via calls, texts, cards and notes. The in-person ones were especially appreciated as they helped me focus as we pulled boxes and bins from every nook and cranny in that too-big house. And, believe me, there were a LOT of nooks and crannies!

 

My sister Denise dropped everything to be with me when she heard the terrible news about Vince. She also scrubbed the grout in my kitchen and later helped clear out and box up my many drawers, cabinets and closets. (And she could only shake her head at me as she pointed out the multitude of cleaning products I possessed.) My brother Andrew also drove more than 10 hours to be with me after Vince passed and helped me get through those first few incomprehensible days.

 

My friend Joe painted my incredibly high living room ceiling and lent support as I made arrangements at the funeral home. Sue carefully packed Vince’s clothes to donate to Dress for Success and helped pare down countless rooms and Debbie helped pare down boxes in the overflowing attic and the lower level kitchen. She also made many runs to donation centers for me. My brother- and sister-in-law came over numerous times to take things out of the house that I wasn’t going to use and helped it become a little less overwhelming to plan for the movers.

 

Once my house sold and I was now on a deadline, my neighbor Susan helped pack up the garage. And my neighbor Suzy (tried to) help me catch my cat Jinx and put her in the carrier as my final act in that house – but neither of us could catch her as she streaked from one floor to the next and back again. When I had a meltdown after Jinx (in her terror) scratched me, Suzy sought out reinforcements in the form of neighbors Barb and Dave, who came over wearing thick gloves and carrying a blanket. They calmly and efficiently coaxed Jinx into the carrier and put her in the car for me. And Barb tended to my wounds so I wouldn’t contract cat scratch fever and wind up in the ER hooked up to IV antibiotics.

 

I hadn’t planned to name people who helped me because I know there are many others that lent a hand or a shoulder or an ear – whenever I needed it. And I don’t want them to think their contributions weren’t incredibly appreciated. Because they were.

 

In the past year, I’ve learned that asking for help is not a bad thing. So often we try and do it all on our own – and we can make a mess out of things by doing so. At least that’s true of me.

 

So I’m grateful for the life lessons I’ve learned.

 

All this is not to say that I don’t desperately miss my Vince. I do. Every minute of every day.

 

Up until recently, I cried every single day. But then, I’m a big baby and cry easily. Sad movie? Check. Sappy song on the radio? Check. Little kid giving his mommy a weed he picked for her thinking it was a pretty flower? Check.

 

Many times they were silent tears. But sometimes it was a full-on ugly cry…so I was grateful that I was usually by myself when that happened.

 

There are some days when I don’t cry now. Or the utter sadness I feel doesn’t last quite as long. And sometimes I can get through an entire evening with friends without tearing up.

 

I used to think that meant I wasn’t being “loyal” to Vince. And I worried when someone said to me, “You’re more like your old self again.”

 

What does that even mean? I certainly don’t feel like my old self. I’m not sure I ever will again.

 

I feel like I lost part of myself. I can’t tell you how many times something has happened in the last year and my first thought is I can’t wait to tell Vince… only to remember I’ll never again get to tell him.

 

And I get very sad when I know that we will never plan for and take that dream trip to Italy together. I miss his companionship and know future cruises and vacations will seem…I don’t know – "lacking" – since he won’t be with me.

 

I miss the meals he lovingly prepared for us. Walking past the meat aisle at Costco can reduce me to tears when I see packages of chicken wings or racks of ribs. (He was the best cook!)

 

I’m so sad his grandchildren don’t get to Facetime with their Grandpa – and will grow up without him.

 

I miss the simple act of sitting next to him in the morning on the loveseat drinking our coffee and planning our day. And I miss seeing the look on his face when he told me he loved me. Because I felt loved. Every day.

 

Now I have to settle for pictures. And my memories.

 

Fortunately, I have a lot of the former, since Vince was the snap-happiest guy I’ve ever known. And we crammed an awful lot of memories in our short thirteen years together.

 

So I’m grateful for that, too.

 

I’ve said this before (and I’m sure I’ll say it again…!), but I know that I had true love with Vince. I hadn’t known what that was like before I met him. And many people never get to experience that kind of love. So I was incredibly blessed.

 

Now I just have to keep on going without him. And I have to revise my future from a “Vince and Jane” life to just “Jane.”

 

But I know I don’t have to go it completely alone. I have that squad, remember?

 

So my dear Vince? I wish you were here. What I wouldn’t give to spend more time with you. But I know you’re in a better place. And you don’t have to shed any tears.

 

I’ll close with this poem I used in the program for Vince’s Memorial Service:

 

Until We Meet Again

We think about you always,

We talk about you still.

You have never been forgotten,

And you never will.

We hold you close within our hearts,

And there you will remain,

To walk and guide us through our lives,

Until we meet again.

                            Author Unknown

 

 

Who You Callin' "Tech Illiterate"??

I had a longer break from blogging than I intended. Why? Well…um…I guess I’m not as tech savvy as I thought I was.

 

See, my Microsoft Office subscription ran out in February. I needed to renew it. No problem. Bought a subscription card back in early January. Figured I was being a good Girl Scout and was all prepared well ahead of the expiration date. I was just waiting ‘til the last possible moment to add it so I wouldn’t “squander” the last days of the old subscription.

 

But here’s the problem. Vince had purchased Office 365 as a family plan. It was associated with his Microsoft user ID and password – and he had added me as a family member so I could have Office on my laptop as well. I didn’t know his user ID or password – and I didn’t want to use that anyway as it needed to be associated with MY user ID and password now.

 

Plus, I had purchased a Microsoft Office 365 as a Single plan since I didn’t need to add any other computers to my subscription.

 

So I (attempted) to follow the instructions. No luck. I entered the code and stuff was downloading or uploading or whatever loading. I was just assuming the magic would happen and I could get back on my Microsoft Word and start writing again.

 

Nope. I turned my computer off and on. And off and on again like a kid playing with a light switch. I Googled and YouTubed 'til I couldn't listen to one more person telling me how it was an "easy installation." 

 

By this point I could pretend to clearly explain to you all the other steps I took to fix what wasn’t working, but really I can’t. It would come out as Word Spaghetti. I have no clue what I did or how I did it and in what order I did it.

 

All I know is that nothing worked.

 

Every time I tried to get on my Blog document, my computer (metaphorically) smacked my fingers and said the software program had expired and I needed to pony up for another subscription.

 

This is when I’d screech at my computer, “I already bought it! I downloaded it! It’s there!!!” I might have even gestured a little bit. But I’m not confirming that – and Maggie Minx isn’t talkin’ either.

 

Yet despite my histrionics, the computer wasn’t swayed and didn’t seem to care one little bit. It didn’t even seem to mind my screeching, although I’m sure Maggie would have preferred I used my “indoor voice” as she has big ol’ sensitive ears.

 

So for my sanity – and my raw vocal chords – I had to walk away. But for good measure I gave my computer dirty looks every time I got a glimpse of it sitting calmly and quietly on my desk. Probably I even muttered a bad word or two under my breath.

 

I considered calling the Geek Squad, but that was going to be my last resort as I really hate computer techs mumbling “user error” (or worse) under their breath.

But when I couldn’t access any of the documents I needed to have my taxes prepared, I knew I had to figure out the problem.

 

So I stumbled around on the computer again and eventually got to a screen that asked for my subscription code. Shrugging my shoulders because I figured it couldn't hurt, I entered it once again. I worried it might say that the code had already been used and I’d be out some bucks unless I was able to find an actual human to talk to who could help – but I gave it a shot anyway.

 

I then shut my computer down, turned it back on and – lo and behold – I was able to access all my documents that had heretofore been held for ransom. (Cue the angels singing from on high.)

 

I was ecstatic! 

 

Well…except that suddenly all my documents were showing up with black backgrounds and white text. My poor old eyes were bugging out of my head – so I had to Google how to fix that weird glitch.

 

Once I remedied that problem, everything seemed to be well and good in Jane’s Domain.

 

Now I just need to catch up on all those blogs I was writing in my head.

 

I just hope they don’t come out as Word Spaghetti…

 

Sail on Captain Steve. We will Miss You.

 

Today has been a hard day. A really hard day.

 I just learned that my good friend and former next-door neighbor, Steve, passed away today.

 He was, hands down, the single most positive person I’ve ever met. He was happy and enthusiastic about life and he loved to laugh.

That’s not to say that everything was sunshine and roses with him. He went through hard stuff just like anyone else. But he didn’t let the bad outweigh the good. Ever.

He had his share of health problems in recent years. More than his share. Every time he went in for a routine dental procedure, he ended up in the hospital. It got to the point where I’d cringe whenever I heard he had something wrong with his teeth.

But the man seemed to have more than a cat’s nine lives. He came out of the hospital or rehab facility and he kept on living life to the fullest.

He loved – and I mean LOVED – boating and being on the water. Several years ago he bought a pontoon boat and docked it at Hoover Reservoir just up the road from our neighborhood and he and his love, Meg, spent summers puttering up and down the Reservoir. Vince and I were frequent guests and we’d enjoy snacks or dinners as we talked while Vince took lots of photos of the sights and sunsets.

Whenever Meg wanted to do something else during the hot summer days (like, say, work…or plant a few flowers in their yard…or y’know, grocery shop or do the odd load of laundry), she’d stay home to get those things done. But Steve would send out a notice on Facebook inviting any and all friends to join him on Hoover. There were days I’d swear he was out on the water three different times with three different groups of friends.

The man did not stop.

Last winter he studied for his Captain’s boat license. And he passed. So we started referring to him as “Captain.” Meg came up with personalized license plates for them both. She was his First Mate. And Steve was looking forward to another summer on Hoover – but he also was busy making plans for boating in Florida during the cold Ohio winters.

He had many cherished friends from many walks of life. He had a loving family – a son and daughter, and two precious grandchildren. He had a brother and sister with whom he was close. And he had Meg. He loved her most of all.

And everyone loved him. My Vince loved him. He so enjoyed Steve spontaneously stopping over to sit on our patio to talk while Vince cooked on the grill or built a fire in his fire pit. They both discovered a shared love of Rita’s Italian Ice – and they’d take off for Rita’s on the spur-of-the-moment. Sometimes they’d even bring back a frozen treat for Meg and me.

When Vince passed away last April, Steve came over and gave me the longest hug as we both cried. And every time after that whenever I saw Steve, he continued to give me those long, comforting hugs. The care and friendship Steve and Meg showed me during that incredibly difficult time were beyond description and I will forever be grateful for the love and support they gave me.

I can’t think about living in my old neighborhood without thinking about Steve. During my many walks with Maggie Minx, we’d sometimes see Steve outside. He’d yell, “MAGGIE!!” and she would get all riled up. She’d bark and jump and try to get to Steve. Sometimes he’d laugh and tell me that now I had to deal with her…but sometimes he’d come out with a doggie treat – so she knew it was worth getting all riled up about seeing her buddy Steve.

He and Meg came to our many parties and gatherings – and I was happy to have a photo of the four of us at Vince’s 60^th birthday party in 2018.

Steve had a daily habit of going to breakfast most every morning at a neighborhood spot in Westerville called Gena’s. There was another neighbor, David, who also went there, and invariably on my early morning walks with Maggie, I’d see either one or both their cars heading out of the neighborhood. And I knew they were going to breakfast at Gena’s. 

Steve would sit at the breakfast bar so he could talk and laugh with the owner and her mother while our other neighbor David would sit at the far end of the breakfast bar reading the newspaper and enjoying his breakfast. Neither of them drove together to Gena’s. They didn’t sit together. Sometimes they didn’t even talk. It was just their morning routine.

The night before I moved this past December, Meg and Steve asked me to come over for dinner and invited me to stay overnight at their house. They knew the movers were scheduled first thing in the morning and, by that point, I didn’t really have anything in the house that made for a restful sleep. Like a bed. Or sheets. Or towels. Everything was packed up and ready to go.

So I gladly stayed with them. After dinner, I had to head back to the house to get rid of the last of the things for the trash pick-up in the morning. I was a little frazzled, so Steve, Meg and two other neighbors, Barb and Dave, came over with large trash bags ready to give me a hand. Within a short time we had everything bagged up and brought down to the curb and – when my driveway got too full (and I worried that the moving truck wouldn’t be able to fit!), Steve and Dave moved some of it to their own driveways.

They made it so easy for me – and it was but one small example of what a wonderful neighborhood I was leaving behind.

Anyway, with that chore handled, we went back to Steve and Meg’s. She and I stayed up late that night drinking wine and talking while Steve headed off to bed. He said if I was up for it (and didn’t stay up too late talking and drinking), he’d take me to Gena’s for breakfast in the morning.

That sounded like fun – so, even though I’m not normally an (A) morning person or (B) a breakfast person, I made sure I was up and ready for Gena’s.

And we had a blast! Steve, our other neighbor David and I were the only customers in the place. We talked and joked and generally had a wonderful time. For me – it was a nice send-off for the nearly 10 years I lived next door to such kind and generous neighbors.

And it is now a cherished memory.

The last time I saw Steve, he and Meg invited me and another neighbor, Pat, to dinner at one of their favorite restaurants in Grandview – Figlio and Vino Vino. Vince and I had joined Steve and Meg there several times and we very much enjoyed our evenings with them. 

So I was happy to drive back to my old neighborhood and ride with Steve, Meg and Pat down to the restaurant. (Although I have to admit, it was a little odd parking my car in the street between my old house and Steve and Meg’s rather than just walking next door.) But the four of us had a lovely dinner together.

And I asked someone to take our picture – because Vince always asked for pictures for these kinds of gatherings and I am so glad he did. I have so many images now I can look back on and recall with fondness. So I’m trying to remember to take photos or ask for photos to be taken.

Meg – who is beautiful no matter what she wears or how she wears her hair – for some reason was not happy with her photo in the group shot, so she walked away as the server took another photo of just Steve, Pat and me.

And this is now another cherished memory.

My last communication with Steve was a text from him in late February asking me to think about what slogan to put on a new flag where he docks his boat.  He liked one of my suggestions – “Live and Be Well” because Steve was always ending his posts “Stay well, friends.” Also Vince’s Aunt Sophie – who is kind and positive like Steve – would frequently say that phrase whenever she talked about someone.

In the end, Meg’s suggestion won out – “Life Savor.” And, really? That was the perfect slogan for Steve’s flag on the dock by his beloved boat.

So Steve? You will be incredibly missed by all who loved you. And I will miss you. I will miss your positivity and your enthusiasm. But I will try to emulate you and live life to the fullest.  You set such a good example for us all.

Stay well, friends.