STILL A WORK IN PROGRESS
- Loren
- 7 hours ago
- 4 min read
"Welcome to the first day of class. On the card where it asks about your parents' occupations, be sure to put that your mom is working--even if she doesn't receive a paycheck. She is definitely working: She washes your underwear and your socks." -- Mr. Loewen, my 7th grade science teacher
This past Thursday, the four year anniversary of the accident, was a bitch. It's hard for me to put it any other way. Four years had passed yet it felt like four days. I was in Venice (more on that later) bawling and unable to even stand up. It was a miracle that I was able to reach Tyler on the phone before he went to work. It was the only time I've ever been able to do so. The sound of his calm voice tempered my emotions like a mom's voice might soothe a baby after a meltdown. He has the keys to my heart and soul. Just as with so many other times since losing Jenny, he prevented an awful situation from getting far worse.
Four years, and I'm still nothing like the man I used to be. While most engineers kept their jobs with flashes of brilliance, I did so at Intel by being a workhorse. I routinely worked 80 hours every week for years on end. I was never the brightest, but I gave a grind-it-out, blue-collar effort in every role I had. That was my special sauce. But, it all came to an end with the accident. Unable to concentrate for more than 15 minutes in any given hour, to do my job I had to start working at 6:00 in the morning and work until midnight at the earliest. Seven days each week. My psychiatrist at Kaiser told me that through the trauma I had suffered the equivalent of a brain injury and she could not say whether it was reversible. I have improved, but my stamina is nothing like it used to be.
Closing my eyes before sleeping presents a challenge every night. I still see images from four years ago. I need to have a YouTube video going in order to fall asleep. The tricky part is that it has to be interesting enough so that I can be distracted from images of the accident. Yet, boring enough to put me to sleep. Silver mining tends to hit that sweet spot. Physics lectures are a close second. To this day, I continue to be afraid of falling asleep because of the nightmares I might have.
Aside from an emergency trip to Hong Kong last year, I never left the country since the crash. Jenny designed all of our vacations and she was really good at it. Just the thought of planning a trip outside of the US just felt so intimidating. However, back in late 2023 I met a mathematician and we have become close friends. I'll just say for now that she understands me far better than I understand her math. She had a conference in Italy earlier this month and convinced me to go despite my initial resistance. It also coincided well with Dylan's school schedule. So, the three of us flew to Italy together and I had some treasured father-son time in Bologna, Florence and Rome. I tacked on Venice for my math friend. Being back for a few days, what I remember most is the oppressive heat and humidity. But, I'm sure I'll remember only the positives as time moves forward.
With Florence and Rome climbing to the upper 90s every afternoon (that heat wave is still ongoing at the time of this writing), we needed two changes of clothes per day. So, I washed Dylan's clothes in the hotel sink while he slept away the afternoons. I found it soothing and, as a dad, it was a love language. Washing his clothes was so practical, yet something Dylan wouldn't have wanted to do on his own. Because I washed his socks, t-shirts and underwear, he could sleep more and get away with a small carryon instead of a big heavy check-in which he would have had to drag through the cobblestone streets. My one piece of advice here is to bring microfiber towels. They are thin, light, absorb a lot of water and dry quickly. After rinsing out the clothes in the sink, wrap them in a microfiber towel and squeeze the sh*t out of them to get as much water out as you can. You can then hang the clothes overnight without water dripping everywhere. If your clothes aren't dry by then, your microfiber towels certainly will be. Just use them to wrap up the damp clothes for packing if you have to check out.
Here at home, Skeeter continues to be my guardian angel. We are hardly ever more than a few feet apart. We walk twice each day. Once before sunrise and once after sundown to escape the heat. If I ever leave the house without him, he will protest. He does this by emptying the garbage, shredding any paper products he finds there and spreading them across the floor.
As for the kids, I want to protect their privacy at least a little bit by not mentioning them by name here. But, I will say that, over the past year--give or take a few months--the boys collectively have had two graduations, two ears pierced, two tattoos (both in dedication to Jenny--they're very sweet) and two movie theater passes. And, one of them gets around on a motorcycle. (I'm happy to see him happy, but I'm also worried to death.) Each boy in his own way is living his dream.