WE CAN'T LET GO

"In theory, there's no difference between theory and practice. In practice, there is" --Yogi Berra

Jenny left us three years ago today. Looking back, I thought that I would be so much further along in my grief journey than I actually am at this point. For one thing, the full acceptance that Jenny isn't coming back remains elusive. I think this due to a combination of a lot of things. Primarily, though: (1) My brain is still wired to have Jenny around. It's still a mini-surprise when I remind myself that she's not here. (2) We didn't get to say good-bye to each other. (3) I'm surrounded by her things--things I'm not willing to throw away. Tyler, who has been such a champ in so many ways, asked that we start. He helped me throw away a pair of Jenny's ratty old shoes. But, that's as far as I got. Her clothes still take up most of our closet. Even the items she put on our walls are untouched. She wanted everything at a height of 5'7" from the floor if at all possible. (This also happened to be her height--not sure if that's a coincidence.) So, absurdly, the main mirror in the living room is useless to our houseful of six-footers. (4) Maybe the the biggest factor is there's so much that she didn't and won't get to see, especially when it comes to her kids. I keep thinking she must come back to be a part of all of this. High school graduation, first day of college, last day of college, the kids' weddings, grandkids, the two of us finally traveling the world...Jenny was there to plant the seeds for all of these. She watered them as seedlings, showered love on them as they grew, pruned them, and now, when the trees are finally mature, she isn't here to enjoy the fruit.

The twins hugged bye to their mom before she left for Florida on business in February 2015

As hard as this reality is for me, I'm very proud of how well the kids have been doing. Their developing brains have been so resilient. If I ever need a pick-me-up and a good chuckle, for example, all I have to do is get in touch with Dylan. He has been a role model for me in maintaining work-life balance. And, I'm so grateful he will be home for the next few months. This summer he will be a camp counselor at the very camp that Jenny signed him up for when he was in elementary school. He will also continue his three year run as a counselor at the California Youth Symphony, with whom he played trumpet in high school. Every day, he shows me who's boss by schooling me on the New York Times word games. Yet another Jenny tradition--both the games and the schooling.

April 2025: Skeeter with a new stuffy that Tyler gave him

As for Tyler, his spending the past academic year with me here at home has been a gift sent from heaven. I tried not to tell him this, as I wanted him to have the college experience that he wished for without my biasing him. But, God, has it been nice having him around. Tyler makes sure I do the things I'm supposed to be doing for my mental health. He pulls me over to the family room to watch the Wolves and the Vikings. He takes me to In-N-Out. He brings home something new for me to eat when he comes back from work. His treat, of course. Sometimes love is so much more powerfully expressed through one's actions than one's words.

Skeeter and I are now pretty much like an old married couple. We sleep next to each other every night, have a routine together and we know what the other is thinking without opening our mouths. We share our food (so long has it's designed for people). We also tend to annoy each other at times. Being my partner in life that he is, he keeps me honest by making sure we go out for walks. Good thing, too, because it's the only exercise I get.

During her last night in our house, Jenny retreated to the guest room so as to not disturb my sleep before the drive to Los Angeles. We left in a bit of a hurry the next morning and we couldn't get to everything before hitting the road. Including Jenny's bed. To this day, her bed remains unmade. I have done nothing with the bedsheets or her pillows since she last touched them. She always made her bed, after all, so why is fixing it my problem?

So, I tell Jenny now as I always do: You come back and make your bed when you're ready to.

I'll be waiting.