And so today’s moment of happiness despite the news.
A sort of philosophical post today, I suppose. Maybe because today is the 16th, and I am now about halfway through my goal of returning the blog to its original once-a-day format, just for the month of December. Has it helped? I’m not sure. It’s definitely gone in ways I haven’t expected.
Today, I traveled to Madison, Wisconsin, to present at a book group held in a retirement home. I was asked to talk about where I get my ideas from. I stopped at my favorite Starbucks as I headed out of town, and my order was taken by one of my favorite baristas. I told him where I was going and why. This barista, who also writes, said, “What are you going to tell them?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I have no idea where the ideas come from. Hopefully, I’ll figure it out by the time I get there.”
Shortly after I got on the freeway, my phone erupted with a variety of notifications. Because my phone and my car are attached, I was able to see at least glimpses of some of them on my car’s GPS screen as I drove. From what I saw, I realized that there had been a school shooting in the same city where I was going. I called my brother, who was coming to my presentation, and received assurances that I wouldn’t be anywhere near where the shooting took place.
The drive between Waukesha and Madison is boring. Flat lands, and at this time of year, brown dead lands. No snow to liven things up. No brightly colored trees or even deep green trees. So I found myself pretty deep in thought as my car and I worked our way to Madison.
This morning, parents sent their kids off to school. The kids were likely looking forward to seeing their friends, or they were counting down the days to Christmas break, or they were worried about a test. Parents were probably doing their own things as well, trying to stay on schedule.
And then all hell broke loose.
It’s amazing, really, how quickly things can change. Some say in a breath, but sometimes it’s faster than you can inhale and exhale. Sometimes it’s not even in a blink. Your eyelid is only halfway back up and you’re looking at a new world.
On the morning of January 17th, 2024, Michael left for work. I heard him moving around the bedroom as he got ready, but I’m not aware of when he actually left. I’d asked him to not kiss me goodbye anymore, because it always woke me up, and I had trouble going back to sleep until it was time for my alarm to go off.
I wish now I’d never asked him to stop.
Just before 6:00 in the evening, I messaged him, complaining that for the third day in a row, he hadn’t taken out the garbage. I didn’t know, and neither did he, that he was four minutes away from being hit by a passenger van as he tried to cross a street to get to his bus stop. To come home.
Michael didn’t expect his life to change that day. I didn’t expect mine to change either. But look how quickly it can happen.
In an odd twist, when I received the call early in the morning of June 19th, from the hospice, I experienced the exact opposite. I was expecting his life to change, and mine too. The nurse told me to hurry in, and I did, with Olivia by my side. We were there when he quietly left us.
And so everything changed.
I did my appearance in Madison, talking to the participants about creativity and imagination, and then reading to them from Don’t Let Me Keep You. And then I drove back through the campus of the University of Wisconsin – Madison, on my way back home.
The campus is hugely changed from when I was there. Honestly, I don’t know how they’re managing to squeeze so many buildings in to what was already a busy campus. I recognized a few things, but mostly, it looked unfamiliar to me. But I was looking forward to seeing where I used to live, as a student.
Zoe Bayliss Coop. It was owned by the UW, but it was different than a dorm. 55 women lived under one roof. We each helped at one meal a week, and we each had one chore a month to do. The scheduling changed throughout the year. Because we were involved with the running of the coop, it was much cheaper than living in the dorms.
I absolutely loved it.
So as I drove in heavy traffic, I watched for the coop. As I got closer, I saw massive construction equipment. And I thought, Oh, no.
The coop is gone.
As I continued my drive, though, an interesting thing happened. While I was sad that the coop was gone, my mind immediately went to wonderful times there. The women I knew. The late night ordering of Pizza Pit pizza while studying. Eating coffee ice cream for the first time at the Union. Standing forever in the shower, and taking a shower every day, which I was never allowed to do at home. Parties. Going to the Nitty Gritty and ordering drinks with decadent names – Sex On The Beach, the Dirty Screw. My own decision to put my focus on writing, not keeping it a hobby while I worked elsewhere, but really digging in to what I wanted my life to be.
The same thing has been happening with the daily blog. My original thought was that it would distract me to other things, besides the sadness at losing Michael. And there has been some of that. But there’s also been the rising up of good memories. Pushing aside those five months between accident and death.
Driving through Madison, especially the parts that were familiar, reminded me that I did have a life before Michael. And of course, I had the life with Michael, twenty-five years of marriage, and about thirty years of knowing each other.
And now, here I am again, in a life without Michael. A life where I fully understand how things can change in less than a breath, in less than a blink.
But it can still be good. There is the warmth of memory. Things that I will never ever forget. Things that changed me, generally for the better.
And so now too.
I guess today’s Moment is that I realized, as I drove through memories, and through the very clear representation around me that things change, and it’s still okay, well, I can be okay too.
One Moment at a time.
And yes, that helps. Despite. Anyway.
