Back to the road that leads to elsewhere

We left Oklahoma by 8:30 the day after the funeral.  I, admittedly, was dragging my feet in the hopes that it would lead to us just staying another day.  I needed that one more day to regroup, to pull myself together, to figure out where I was after it all.  Scott felt that he needed to be in Denver where his family was gathered for his brother's birthday.  In hindsight I realize that he was grieving as I was grieving and we were both, while together, quite separate in this process.

The drive to Denver resulted in me sleeping for ten or eleven of the twelve hours it took to drive the distance.  Even when I woke up, I didn't speak to Scott.  I pulled myself in and allowed myself to just be silent.  The result was a rather uncomfortable trip.

The birthday gathering was at a Rockies game.  We drove straight into Denver, parked the car, and walked to the stadium where our tickets were being held.  Scott got the tickets and we went to the seats only to realize that I had the one ticket that was not seated with the group.  I was several rows down.  I felt it was appropriate and I held on to the anger and grief even tighter.  Fine.

Scott's brother found us about that time and I went through the ritual of hugs hello, sympathies, etc. trying to maintain my "happy" face.  I don't think I really succeeded in pulling this off.  After the happy hellos, I retreated to my seat away from the rest of them and sat among the strangers around me.  Scott's mom later told me that Scott was very upset about the whole thing but I did not see this and at that moment I didn't care.  Eventually space opened up near Scott and I was able to move up to them.  I am the person that struggles to take a seat that isn't mine so it took me a while to warm up to the move.  There were several friends that we had not seen in a while and some wanted to talk about Joey, the funeral, everything that had just happened and clearly refused to read my body language that screamed "Don't want to talk about it, don't want to talk about it, don't want to talk about it."  Others argued that there had been other fatalities in the accident (confusing this accident with one from 2009 that killed several people).  I know that much of this was done as a comfort, to forge a connection, but honestly, I just wanted to be left alone.  I didn't want to be drawn out yet.  I wanted to wallow, I suppose, but there was another side of me that just wanted to be normal, that didn't want to have to talk about it with everyone.  I didn't want to forget but I wanted them to forget, maybe.

I would open up as the weekend went on but I struggled to explain to everyone why I had needed to have one more day at home with my family.  I don't know if they understood.  Scott felt the need to be at his brother's birthday.

I was resentful, angry, grieving and probably a load of joy to be around...

After the game, the family headed off to a pub, The Grandview Tavern & Grill (sorry, no link), for drinks and late night snacks.

The rest of the weekend was enjoyable and I was able to begin the process of letting go.  There was homemade food, courtesy of Mom (Scott's mother is Mom, mine is Mama)--meatloaf (which I don't actually remember having had since I was about 7 and my aunt made it), mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, corn bread, from scratch red velvet cake.  We ate ourselves silly, drank here and there, played lots of DJ hero (where the look of concentration is often mistaken as a look of unhappiness), and enjoyed the familial company.  Quarters were tight, especially with three little dogs and an iguana thrown into the mix, but it was good.  I wondered how his brother's girlfriend was handling having her house overrun by the Taylor crew.  Scott and I were able to show our pictures of the trip so far both on the computer and in our little Fuji polaroids.

Scott and I stayed an extra day in Denver once Mom, Pops, and sister T had left.  We knew we would be back in a few weeks and we were beginning to feel the pull to get west.  The Taylor Manifest Destiny.  The goodbye this time was easy, promises made to see them soon, and we loaded up the lizard, and headed out.  Arches National Park was our next destination.

Because I'm still in love with you/ On the harvest moon

Tonight is the Harvest Moon.  We met up with our neighbors and walked to Creston Park just down the street to see it.  It was partly cloudy and we had only one really good view of it but we had fun playing with their dog, Juniper.  We really like our neighbors, Kari and Lisa.  We had a dinner with them last week and thoroughly enjoyed the company.

I'm sitting here in the dining area of our apartment watching Scott wrestle with cinnamon sticks.  What was to be an easy cookie making project has turned into a damned difficult task with quite a few substitutions.  The cinnamon must be ground and the easiest way to do this is to put it in the coffee grinder and let it work its way to dust.  Because the cinnamon sticks are difficult to break, Scott first put them in the food processor (after a discussion where I told him that doesn't really work that well because the sticks get thrown to one side) and watched them get thrown to one side.  It did break some of the sticks, though.  He put the broken sticks into the coffee grinder and filled the cinnamon container half full for me.  So thoughtful.

The smell of cinnamon is like fall.  It's spicy, woody, and sweet.  True, freshly ground cinnamon is a pretty red color and smells so much spicier than the pre-ground product you buy at the store.  I love the smell.  If I could wear it, I would.  Cinnamon and vanilla bean.  Forget the cinnamon oil and vanilla musk. The real spices are warm, dark, and exotic smells that make it easy to understand why men traveled the world seeking them.

With this, I welcome fall.  It's been a good Autumn Equinox, marking the end of an epic summer.  Here's to new beginnings!

But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!

Joey was buried on that Friday.

We awakened early, got dressed in our borrowed funeral clothes, ate a quick breakfast that my father had made, and then headed to the funeral home for visitation.  We pulled into the parking lot and I began to shake.  Our walk around the building resulted in my heel becoming trapped in a crack in the sidewalk; I stumbled, lost the shoe, and stood looking at the slab of concrete with irritation.  Stupid concrete...

We were met by one of the service directors who informed us that we had better get a move on because they were moving to the church soon.  Upon entering, I was met with a small group of people that I had not seen in 10-12 years.  It was surreal, seeing all those faces grown and so inordinately sad.  K and R, old high school friends met us and we were joined shortly by various others.  Through the doors, I could see the open casket and simply could not bring myself to go into that room.  I remembered my gradfather and how waxy and artificial he looked at his funeral and could not bear to remember Joey in that same way.  People came to say hi, to apologize for cryptic messages on social networking sites, and to feel not alone with their sorrow.  Stories were traded about Joey of run-ins with Oklahoma cops,visits he made, and the amount of effort he put in to staying in touch and visiting over the years.  Soon we were asked to reconvene at the church.

The service was a Catholic service.  I was aware of my family in front of us, the casket being wheeled in by the pallbearers (oh what heartbreak to be a bearer for a good friend!), I was aware that there were many people there, but was otherwise in a daze.  A former employer of Joey's from DC got up and gave a sweet eulogy, extolling all the goodness that was Joseph, Joe, Joey Doyle.  We disbursed shortly after. On the steps, I met up with Joey's brother and his fiancee, old friends whom I had only Facebook contact with, and my family.  We were asked repeatedly what was going on and why was my status update in a different location every few days.  I was pulled from my fog as people reached for me, hugged me, said hi.  And I only remember a face or two.

The burial was a simple graveside service.  The ground was soft and our heels kept sinking in.  We followed this by going back to the church where there was a luncheon and to give our regards to the family.  A friend's mom had made cake, as she was wont to do when we were growing up, and we enjoyed a piece of that while we caught up, shared stories, and tried to sort ourselves out.  I met Joey's girlfriend for the first time and thought my heart would completely break at that point.  She was such a lovely and wonderful person and I am so sorry that we did not have the opportunity to meet before.  I understood why and how Joey had fallen in love with this woman.

We said our farewells and good wishes and headed to McNellie's  where a contingent of old friends was already gathered.  We ordered beers and food, traded phone numbers and information.  We also realized that it was going to take an effort to stay in touch.  Joey had taken that out for us as he stayed in touch and then passed on the news of everyone for us.  My mom sent a message at some point inviting everyone to her house for dinner--red beans and rice, how very nice.

We left, took the car to the shop, and returned to my parents' house.  K and R came for dinner, my sister came with her husband and kids, and I found myself incredibly happy that we have the people that we do to help us get through these moments in life.  My mom made comfort food, even in the heat of the Oklahoma summer.  K and R made the effort to come and be with us.

After they left, I crawled into bed with my nephew and he and I told stories until way to late.  We fell asleep holding hands and his sweet little stories made me smile.  That little boy saved my broken heart that night and began to help put me back together.

The thing of it

Here's how it goes:

We are now in Portland and have been since we moved into our apartment on August 3.  I began teaching online again on August 14.  We met friends here the weekend before we moved in.

A few things I have realized:

1.  I am a lucky girl.
2.  I am terribly in love with the man I am with.
3.  I am very grateful for the travels of the summer and the opportunities we had.
4.  I am incredibly fortunate in the family and friends that I have.
5.  I love my life right now.
6.  I feel balanced for the first time in a very long time.
7.  I love the sound of the rain that is falling outside my bedroom window.

A different tack

Dear readers,

After careful consideration of what this is and my difficulty in progressing along on this blog, I have decided to take a different tack.

The fact is, I have become entrenched in a sorrow that occurred this summer and, while it did play a major part of my life, there are a number of wonderful things that have happened.  In my coping with the loss of Joey, I have really struggled to move the blog along, as you may have noticed if you are keeping up.  It has become a spiral and it has been very difficult to move beyond.  However, over the last few days, I have begun to realize that many things are currently happening as I try to recount the events of the summer and I don't want to lose these.

So, here's the plan:  I am going to tackle this on several fronts.  I will begin posting about our life here in Portland (because this is, in fact, where we landed and have been living quite happily with numerous good fortunes) and continue to write about the summer trip.  This means more posts, more frequently, than you have been receiving.  I need this.  I have found the recounting of the days around Joey's death to be very cathartic but I also feel the need to explain how lucky I (we) are and how truly happy I am with my life right now.  I am a very blessed girl to have been able to do the things we have done, to have known the people I have, and to be able to continue on.  I'm not "moving on"; that holds implications of a break up and I don't know that you really "move beyond" someone when they pass away.  The simple fact is that I am continuing on.

Thank you for being patient as I have worked through this on the blog.  What I had not originally planned to be an intimate thing has become so, quite unexpectedly.  And that is fine and I am fine with that.

Keep watching.  More posts to come.