As you knew would happen, it’s been an emotional couple of weeks for me as I approach the second anniversary of the date of your passing. I have no clue where to find you or, really, any way to know whether you exist apart. I do know that when I look up into the night sky, I see an immense universe that is full of wonderful possibilities.
***
I could describe how I felt watching you die two years ago, but would it make any difference for you? Isn’t it sufficient that, as you accurately forecast, those first days and months without you here were terribly hard on me? In our many years together, you hardly ever saw me cry, but, trust me, Lee, I’ve shed a lifetime’s worth of tears since then and they were all for you. I know you understand that when I pounded my fists in rage, I wasn’t angry with you. I was your staunchest defender (not that you needed one). Today, I know I was angry because in the end I was powerless to save your life. Death wasn’t fair with you, Beebs. I wish I could defend you from it still.
I had it in my mind to honor your life in the outdoors. but that first year I was powerless to act because of the unprecedented pandemic that exploded on the scene and overwhelmed the whole world in the last months of your life. For me, so long as you were still alive the pandemic was no more than an inconvenience. Finally, just last August, I was able to celebrate you with our families and friends among the gardens and trees of Deer Tick. So many remembered, Lee. And despite the long passage of time, they came to celebrate. It was a fitting tribute to you, I think, a wonderful, glad time and mainly a happy one, too.
***
I’ve no serious option but to plod ahead since you left me here alone to deal with the earthly nitty gritty that passes for life. I am trying to deal, but your death has forever altered my reality. For one thing, it made me appreciate the importance of living. I recall how, almost immediately, I knew I would be leaving or, at minimum, drastically reducing my law practice. Now, more than one year after honoring my professional commitment to lead a team of lawyers, paralegals, and staff in the first post-pandemic federal jury trial in the District, I have done that. Today I honor your memory by giving my time to projects in the community. I consciously endeavor to honor your memory by emulating the kindness and common courtesy you showed to everybody you met. It’s sad to say, but you know me too well to believe that I’ve even been partially successful in this effort. I promise I’ll keep trying, however.
You also know me well enough to appreciate that even without you I can’t help but be optimistic and upbeat regarding the future. I can’t help feeling and acting like someone who remains young at heart. I suppose this is who I am. Yet, if I’m honest, I don’t feel quite as happy anymore as I did while you were healthy and alive.
***
Your death has had unexpected consequences for me, too. For example, I’ve become good friends with “Tall Drink,” whom I have always liked. She was a great friend to you. Now, your pal Amy is also my pal Amy.
More surprisingly, your death brought me closer to your brother Paul. We are connected to you, each in his own way, but now we also make the effort to stay in touch with one another. We occasionally make time to get together. It’s even possible that I see Paul and Joanne more frequently today than I did than when you were living. Who would ’da thunk it, Beebs? Your brother Dave? Still a lost cause, I’m afraid.
As for me, quite naturally I was lonely without you, even with all the loving support I got from many of our friends. Those first days and months were particularly hard. The pandemic raged, forcing most sensible people, including me, into isolation to avoid catching the disease, but also heightening my loneliness. Next, mix in the unprecedented rancor and ill will that surrounded our last presidential election with the unseasonably early onset of winter weather that followed the election, and I feel fortunate I did not to fall into a serious funk. (This said, I do have good news and bad news: the good news is that, despite your frustration over the fact you wouldn’t live long enough to cast a vote, your guy won. The bad news is the other guy won’t go quietly.)
Fortunately for me, after some early serious hand wringing and agonizing on my part, by election time I had obtained my puppy companion. It might not seem like much, I know, but, believe me, Lola the pup –that’s what I call her– helped me get through those early fraught days. Now, of course, Lola is family. She is going to be two years old in late July. Lee, I wish you could meet her.
As wonderful a friend as Lola has proven to be, there came the inevitable day when I began to think again about intimate human contact. “Til death do you part.” I finally came to accept the indisputable fact that we can never share such intimacy because I live.
Following that first holiday season without you, I took the plunge to meet new women, but virtually, via an online dating service. The pandemic continued to wreak havoc; the first vaccines were still a couple of months off in the future. Virtual dating had become the only practical way for me to meet new women, notwithstanding that to me it is the very antithesis of what we would refer to as discovering romantic chemistry.
Beebs, I am amazed that I was able to find a wonderful woman through such high-tech interfacing. Her name is Robyn. I feel like Robyn and I are creating a durable and loving bond. She says it’s because I make her laugh. Well, fair enough.
***
It is a tumultuous time. Additional changes appear at hand. For example, after more than twenty years, in September Mont will be moving. I am hoping that my nephew Kevin and his girlfriend will move into Mont’s place. If so, I plan to have the place repainted for them, but it sounds ridiculous to my ears to be discussing decorating plans here with my dead wife.
In another piece of news, I am trying to sell Deer Tick. I have an offer. We have a contract. Nonetheless until the buyers put their money on the table, there will be no sale. Certainly, however, developments are leaning this direction. Obviously, your death has prompted me to sell Deer Tick, but it is a complex calculus. I would be lying if I said that I am not ambivalent. I have other options, but the option to sell Deer Tick is making the most sense to me.
***
There is not enough room in this message for the other stories I might share with you. For the rest of my life, I will have news tales to tell, so there might be other messages in other bottles heading your way, sweet Beebs. Remember, you’re always here with me in my heart and waking mind.