We made it

Crossing the state line from Kansas to Colorado was the most emotional moment of the road trip. There it was, that very spot where the three of us stopped and documented our arrival in the Centennial Sate nearly 11 months earlier. As the sign streamed by the passenger window, I literally said out loud, “what am I doing here?” 

I drove with this thought and wept. Cruise control set at 77.  Once the emotion of uncertainty passed, I began to feel relief.  Hank and I only had two more hours to go and we would be home.  The long drive behind us. 

Arriving at our Denver townhouse, I fell to my knees at the bottom of the staircase and let it all go. And then the nesting frenzy began. I quickly realized that this was what I had wanted to do, all along, for Tim and me. That instinct was still there, but Tim was not coming home.

So, we made it here. And my desire to go all in had some practicalities to it. I wanted to be in Denver. I was ready to be alone, also knowing I would have a steady stream of visitors. My friends and family were already making their plans. I had some consulting work that I needed to complete or wrap up, but I would not take on anything new.

These were logistics. And from there, the rest unfolded.

A routine began forming around my day. Morning coffee on the rooftop deck with sunshine and mountain air. A long morning walk with Hank in the neighborhood. Typically, a bigger adventure late morning or early afternoon including exploring the mountains, botanical gardens, state parks, city parks, and dog parks. The day would end as it started with dinner on the rooftop or at one of Denver’s many great restaurants.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

This framework was comforting and gave me a lot to look forward to each day.  I felt sincerely fortunate to have this time, place, and space.

Another regular part of each day was replaying the last week of Tim’s life over and over again. Thursday – 10 weeks ago today, Tim was admitted to the hospital. Friday – 10 weeks ago today, we learned what we were battling. Saturday – 10 weeks ago today, Tim got out of bed and sat in the chair. Sunday – 10 weeks ago today, we started planning for hospice. Monday – 10 weeks ago today, we laughed and cried with friends all day. Tuesday – 10 weeks ago today, I picked up the marriage license and we got married. Wednesday – 10 weeks ago today, Tim let go. 

And on Thursday, I would start all over.  Sifting through every memory of that week. The love, laughter, tears, friends, family, physicians, nurses, choices, things said and not said.

This moment-by-moment replay went on for months and months. Every day of the week was a marker that felt like time frozen. An opportunity to weep in heartache and in love. The only thing that changed was the number of “weeks ago.”

So here we were, Hank and me. The actual road trip was complete. We made it. But the soul ride continues.