Some weeks go by and I find myself searching for signs or situations that give me insight into what I should write about each week. I fought looking for inspiration. I felt if i couldn’t write about Tin (or my life without him) that I was losing him more. Stressing about sharing sunk stories deeper out of reach so I stopped feverishly trying to find forced words. I put faith that the words would find their way to me. I stopped trying to find unseen signs and unheard messages – that’s when they showed up in the simplest ways. Random items would recycle my moment and cause random replay.
This week, walking my dog, I wished my dad and Tin a good day. I found a penny. My neighbor said good morning, I responded with a smile and a silly joke. She smiled. I turned the corner and found a quarter. Currency for my kindness? I started to think about what I would write and I paused.
“Don’t worry about it Bryan. They will bring you the words when you need them.”
I kept walking and my dog went sideways to an area he was never interested in. A step in front of me was a clear marble. Looking into it, I was flooded with memories finding old marbles in my back yard with my dad. Those memories lead reminders of scuba diving, family trips and his “direct advice” that I shouldn’t worry so much about little things – “Thanks dad.”
Yesterday I dropped a protein bar behind my dryer. Ugh. This was Clayton’s job. His long arms were always grabbing stuff out of my short reach. Clayton would put all our empty cans and bottles on the dryer to recycle them and was always having to fish ones out that fell. I started to get upset but I couldn’t just leave the protein bar so I pulled the dryer out. There sat lost Tupperware lids, old cat food our late Stallone had dropped and there was an empty vodka bottle. I choked up seeing signs from Tin and Stallone. Clayton and I would have a drink when I would come home from work. I’d have a “shower drink” while he sat in the bathroom and we talked about our day. I loved that time with him each day. When Clayton was diagnosed, he stopped drinking any alcohol. Here, almost 4 years later, an old relic from our relationship rituals sat waiting for the widowed to stop rushing through his day and just remember.
When you don’t force it and you least expect them, life brings you marbles, memories and recycled reminders…