Sarah's Glasses

This is truly a spectacle.

My friend, Sarah, just bought glasses yesterday. She pushed them up her nose. She squinted without them. She did all the things you do when you have glasses. She fogged them up and wiped them off. She said, "I can't see without my new glasses." And she became worried about misplacing them.

Where did she go to get them? Lenscrafters? No. Doctor's VisionWorks? No. Does she even know the name of a REAL place to get glasses? No. She bought them at Urban Outfitters and they are not even prescription.

She is a glasses poser.

Processing

The memorial service magnified my grief.

It has been so intense since then. I woke up Saturday morning and felt heavy, heavy, and sullen and so, so, terribly sad. The words grief and sorrow now mean something to me. And now tears come even when I'm not thinking of him. They used to come when I would think of him in heaven... or of our time together. But now they come when I don't expect them. Sunday morning was terrible, too. Trying to hold it all together while I'm around people. I couldn't do it. I cried and cried and cried. I can't imagine how his sweet mother feels.

When I'm not buried underneath all of that, I feel absolutely nothing at all. I can still smile. I can still laugh. But I truly feel incapable of any emotion. And that's why I feel I have to stop dating this wonderful man that I have been seeing. I couldn't ask him to stick around for this ridiculousness. I feel completely emotionally bankrupt. I know he is wonderful. But I can't give him 100%.

Here is what I need: I need my dear, dear friends to know Rob. No one I know now really knows him. And it makes me incredibly sad. I want to show them pictures and I want to play the music we played at our wedding. And I want to make his delicious chili. I want to tell stories about him and to try to remember what we did. I want to remember everything.

Here is what I want: I want to go with Rob's brother and his best friends when they take his ashes to the top of Long's Peak. I don't know if they will let me. But if they don't, then I will go there myself and sit and speak with him and tell him goodbye.

Words for Rob

I said goodbye to you yesterday. Or at least I think I did. Your friends were all around. Your family filled up the front rows. Last time that happened, we were getting married. Do you remember how it felt to have EVERYONE we loved there? Overwhelming. But you weren't there this time. And it was the most surreal feeling. Where were you? It couldn't be real, right? Any second now, you would be walking in the door. I think of all the times that we lived together that you would come through the front door. It was so normal.

Did you hear the story I told? I sat there, debating whether or not to go up. All I could think of was how much everybody hated me. And how with every word I spoke, they would be seething. But I knew that wasn't true. Richy, Steve, Matt, Erin, and Laurie... they all showed me love... unexpected. And I knew that maybe someone in that room would want to hear that silly story about you eating breakfast naked in the snow in Moab.

It was so good to hear Richy talk about you. And Erin. And Matt and Steve. You and I only had 8 married months together without cancer. It was so long ago, that sometimes I wasn't sure if I would remember our good times. But they reminded me.

You were so faithful. So funny. So authentic and genuine. You loved me.

You know what I thought today? That we never should have gotten a divorce. And that is why I woke up this morning at 4am. My heart weighed 100 pounds. And today at the mall, I wanted to buy something that would always remind me of you. A necklace. But I couldn't find anything. I don't want to date anyone. I just want to be alone and practice music and make you proud.

It makes me think about the purpose of my life. Really, I'm here to give to my friends and my students. And that's it. Everything else can leave me alone.

I haven't said goodbye to you yet, have I?

It Was So Bright and You Just Disappeared

Here is what Erin wrote you on your Facebook:



"Hi Robbie Roo. Oh I'll miss you. Do they have Facebook up in Heaven? I'm sure God will tell you I called. I'm so excited for you! No more hardship and pain! I read your testimony again, all about how Jesus saved you, and it made me so happy. I know where you are. I was worshipping God with a bunch of crazy teens right when you died, and I thought, wow, this is what Robbie would want me to be doing right now. Just like we used to do. During worship I imagined God consuming you with His glory. It was so bright, and you just disappeared. Wow. Well, I love ya Rob Renfroe. I'm gonna race into your arms when I see you again, so get ready! Bye Bye for now, but just for now. yer pal Fostage"



And after I read this, I could barely breathe.

Love you, Erin.

I Can't Stop Thinking

We last had dinner at La Creperie.

The last thing he said to me: "It's ok."

The last thing we ate together was rootbeer shakes from that ice cream place off of south Union.

The last time I heard him laugh... this summer. Our last conversation... in the park listening to music. We've had many silent moments since then. And now he is gone from the world.

But now he's back to who he was in full health... right? I wonder if he can look down and see us. I wonder if he remembers that I love him. I wonder what he is doing.

I looked at his picture today. I've had his pictures up in my house for months. He meant so much to me and he taught me everything of value. I look at pictures of him sick and swollen. And his death makes sense. But I see pictures of him joking, healthy, strong. And it doesn't make any sense. He's 30 years old.

The whole situation is ridiculously shitty. Ridiculously shitty that we had to deal with all that. Ridiculously shitty that we couldn't work things out. Ridiculously shitty that he had to suffer for so long. You know, it is what it is. Max always says that. And it's true. We have to take everything in stride. I don't get to have an opinion of what should have been. Because I can't change any of that. And it brings me back to thoughts on being present and living fully in this moment. Because this moment is the only moment that I have to DO. I don't have the next moment or the past moment. But I do have this moment. And at this moment I can DO anything I want to DO. I suppose this whole situation - shitty as it was, taught me what I couldn't learn otherwise. And if I look past all the terrible, there was so much beautiful. There really was. Otherwise this wouldn't be so hard.

Goodbye, Rob

Rob is in heaven today.

I said goodbye to him two and a half years ago. He moved out. And we started our lives apart from each other. Today is sad. I think of him, now in heaven. Finally free from that crippled body. Can you imagine how he sounds? I can hear his laughter still. I'm sure it's ringing through heaven as the angels celebrate along with him. And for that, I celebrate with him.

But he is gone. How can this be real?

If we had said our final goodbyes two years ago, today would find me empty. Destitute and lost. But the one solace I find rests in our reconciliation. The sweet and simple forgiveness that defined the last year of our relationship. I can't tell you how much it comforts my heart to know that he loved me until his last breath. And I love him. Today and always. Our last moments together, I fed him breakfast. And if his family hadn't been in the room, I would have laid up next to him. And touched his skin. And kissed his shoulders. I wonder now why I didn't do it when I had the chance. But I think it may have outraged his family. I don't know if they understand the love that, even after our divorce, drew us together.

So, there is a measure of hope in all this dispair. And tomorrow, the sun will rise and I will go to work and teach just like I do every Monday. Lacking serenade and pomp. The day will go on for everyone just like every day goes. But for me, my thoughts will be on him and how happy he must be, now free from his suffering.

His vest hangs in my closet. It's all I kept.

Men Love Food

How To Make a Man Happy...

Smile.
Laugh.
Wear skirts.
Be trustworthy.
Make eye contact.
Be emotionally stable.

And above all... make delicious food.