Begin. Even if you have no idea if it will work.

Hey, guys. It’s been a minute. Hope everyone is doing well. Can’t believe we are already in Fall. I think I last wrote 5 months ago. Where does the time go?

I arrived in Austin on September 1st. Had decided last Spring to rent a place here for 4.5 months. Test the waters on whether it’s a potential dwelling city for me. I love Austin but wasn’t/am not entirely sure how much of that is based on nostalgia. I feel like I need to sit in it for a moment to get a feel for it. So far, I love it!! Even putting family and friends aside, I love the city itself. The hikes, trails, and emphasis on being active. It’s a nice transition from SF. Mainly for outdoor life. I can’t believe I have already been here for 2 months though!!

There are days that I feel like life moves at warp speed. How have almost 3 years gone by since we went to the ER? It feels like only a moment in my mind. I was meeting a friend for lunch in Dallas a couple of months ago and had to walk right past our dry cleaners. It will come as no shock to y’all that I, of course, have a personal relationship with them. 😉🤷‍♀️ They checked in regularly when we were in the hospital. I haven’t seen them since. I generally avoid those situations. The first time seeing someone since….

I never went back to the nail salon where I had gone for many years. They don’t know the ending and I don’t want to have to say it. I avoid the entire stretch of road heading toward our house when I’m in Dallas. I can’t imagine there will ever come a day I will be willing to drive by it. It’s simply too much. But that day in Dallas, I decided to pop in and say hi. I hadn’t seen them since November ‘19. We hugged, chatted, and got caught up. One of them has twins. High schoolers. Or so I remembered. They are out of HS. One is a sophomore in college. The other opted out and is working. I was speechless. Wait, what?? It was the first time it had hit me. Tangibly. People have been living a life, a lifetime. And your lifetime has only been a minute for me. So when people ask me questions about moving forward, I understand it a little better now. They have felt their 3 years. It has moved along organically, the way life does. Mine hasn’t. There are fleeting moments when I forget. For just one beautiful, peaceful moment. I forget. Something will happen and I’ll think, “I can't wait to tell C this. He’s not going to believe it”. And then the freight train hits me, and I remember.

Pulling away from San Francisco was so emotional. I LOVED it there. My friends. The lifestyle. City living. THE WEATHER!!! I left on August 4th. Needless to say, I made my way back to Texas as slowly as possible. Easing my way into the heat one state at a time. I set out on the open road again, almost exactly one year after having done the beautiful drive alone to California. I was expecting another transcendent cross-country experience. Closing the chapter to the beautiful year in SF. Leaving it in a different place than where I started it. Suffice it to say…..the return drive didn’t prove nearly as enjoyable.

There are certain constants in my life. Virtual guarantees when it comes to me. Some of those revolve around time spent in cars.

I suffer from road rage. Maybe not “suffer from''. Maybe afflicted with? That makes it sound like it's out of my control. It is fully within my control. I just choose not to control it! Anyway, C used to love to tell a story about me and our friends The Cannons. We were living in FL and while driving, I was leaving them a message. I was mid-sentence:

Me: “Hi Jim & Leigh…..just wanted to check on our plans for Friday…. “are you #$@% kidding me? Learn how to &%#$ drive! You f-nut!

Me when the car goes silent and I realize my phone is still recording me: 😳

Me again: anyhoooooo, holler back when you get a moment. Bye!

Needless to say, this was the hot topic of conversation at that Friday night dinner. For years to come, C relished the opportunity to bring it up.

Along those same lines, I have a bit of a lead foot. With Morgan as an older brother, my fate was sealed. I generally get pulled over on most road trips. C and I never really enjoyed road trips, but we were occasionally left with no other alternative. If we wanted to take Bingley with us, we weren’t about to put him in the belly of the plane. But of any road trips we have taken I’d say I am about 50/50 on being pulled over for speeding. If I’m being honest, it might be more like 60-65% of the time. And of that percentage, I would say I’m a respectable 50/50 on actually getting a ticket. I have charmed my way out of quite a few - always to C’s dismay. I remember we were driving to Austin one time - we were in my very yuppy station wagon. I think we were both in gingham or madras 😂 complete with mountain bikes in the back. We were a model couple - a lovely Nantucket duo detoured through Waco Texas. I was, as always, going above 90mph in a 75mph. The state trooper pulled me over. Craig was less than thrilled with me. I rolled down my window to greet my captor…

Me: hello, Officer.

State Trooper: May I see your Driver's license and insurance?

Me: - sure, here it is. (prompt doe eyes)

State Trooper: Do you know why I pulled you over?

Me: well….I’m guessing to say hi?🤷‍♀️

Craig on dependable cue burst out laughing - he was the best audience.

The 5-0 laughed too. He excused himself and went back to his car with my documents. Craig was still laughing - asking why I said that. It felt like the organic answer. What can I say?

The state trooper returned. With a smile on his face.

State Trooper: I’m going to go ahead and let you go with a warning.

Me: Well thank you, Officer, I appreciate it. Take care.

Me to C: and that’s how it's done. 😏

There was another time I had barely made it out of South Dallas - I mean I was barely past the zoo. Clocked at 95.

Officer: DL and insurance. Do you know why I pulled you over?

Me: Well, yes. I think I was speeding.

Officer: Was something wrong?

Me: Actually, yes. I was trying to pass someone and this scary guy was tailing me (not true). Like right on my tail, Officer. I was going as fast as I safely could, but then I sped up to get away from him.

Officer: I’ll be back in a moment

………………

Officer: I’m going to let you off with a warning.

Me: (thought bubble) hot damn!! She strikes again!

Fast forward to Kansas on the 4th leg of my trip. I left SF and went to Provo for the night. Pushed the envelope on speed? 100%! Yes, always. But the first day went down without incident. Day 2 - Provo to Vail. Couldn’t speed if I’d wanted. All two-lane highways through the mountains. And rain. I was lucky to get to 70mph for more than a mile stretch. I spent several days visiting my aunt/uncle in Vail. We had the best time. We milled around, ate leisurely lunches on patios, looked at art, did a little shopping, and had a movie night. Laughed a lot. 😉 We are very close and I love getting to hang out with them.

From Vail, I went to Denver to grab dinner with a friend. She ended up having surgery that morning and we weren't able to get together. So Denver was for nothing. I left Denver the next day to make my way to Blake and Ashley’s lake house in Oklahoma (before ultimately ending up in STL for a week with C’s family/friends). At some point - while on the phone with my mother - I zoomed past the Fuzz. As I was breaking, I could see him turning around in my rearview mirror. A scene I had witnessed many times before. I hung up with Babs and proceeded to slow down. Eventually, he came up behind me. One lane over, just hovering behind me. I stayed around 78 mph. Didn’t want to be obvious by driving the actual speed limit. He lingered for several minutes. Just long enough for me to confidently believe I was free and clear. Then the lights came on and he fell in behind me. Of course, I immediately pulled over. As he approached the passenger side, he introduced himself.

State Trooper: I’m Captain so-and-so. I clocked you at 96 mph. Was there a reason you were going so fast?

Me: I was on the phone with my mother. Does that count as stressful enough to speed? 😏

ST: [chuckling]. I don’t think so. License and registration, please.

He went back to his car for what seemed an eternity.

ST: Ashley, I want to start by telling you I appreciate that you saw me and slowed down. 🤞🏼 Secondly, I want to tell you I appreciate your politeness. That goes a long way. 🤞🏼 Here is your ticket. You can pay it online or appear in court on this date 👉🏼.

Me in my head: 🤔 wait, this doesn’t sound right…..

Me in real life: Well Captain so-and-so, I’d like to say, “thank you” but I wouldn’t mean it.

ST: [chuckle] Fair enough. Drive safely, Ashley.

$220 later….

I started therapy several months ago, at the beginning of the summer. Some unexpected things brought me there. I’m guessing it needed to happen that way. I’m not sure I would have moved in that direction without specific provocation.

The avoidance of therapy came from two places.

1. It felt (very) overly self-indulgent. Everyone has worries/sorrow/weighty feelings/coping idiosyncrasies/emotional compartmentalization….does it require an hour per week of discussing them ad nauseam? Not in my opinion. I felt like I was managing. I am controlled. Methodical. Logical. Pragmatic. Very skilled at compartmentalizing. What I am/was missing is the ability to seek self-direction from that mysterious region in the middle of our chest. I think they call it a heart. Apparently, some people live by its guidance!! I am not one of those people. I am led by my head and do a very good job of managing that pesky (middle of the chest) region.

2. The insurmountable task of explaining and reliving life since November 2019. See, this is where the compartmentalizing comes in. I had everything in its place. Neat and tidy. The way I’ve been my whole life. The way C is. Maintaining that equilibrium is a huge part of who I am. To disrupt that felt like I was inviting a minefield into my carefully curated and managed emotional state. I was never going to opt to freely go there. I needed a trigger to start a conversation that didn’t directly involve C and our fate. I needed to crack the door with something more manageable.

My therapist (I’ll refer to her as JH) is the only person that ever could have been an option for me. When we were in our final weeks in the hospital and after C decided the Reiki master wasn’t doing it for him 😉 I asked if he might like to speak to someone. Privately. Just him. With someone. He said he would. Maria suggested a longtime family friend and we both loved her. I spoke with her in advance and then waited outside while they visited. She came to see him on 3.12.20. Sixteen days before he was gone. I didn’t ask him anything beyond whether the session served him. He said it did. The details weren’t mine to know. And he didn’t offer more. I spoke with her after the session and she expressed how much she liked him, what a privilege it was, and that she was available if we needed her, but didn't offer anything else. I reached out to her when we went home from the hospital. Said C had called it in the wee hours of the morning. She knew what I was saying and what “home” meant. She came to see me about a week after C was gone. We sat at the house, across the room from one another. I felt so comfortable with her, but I explained that it wasn’t the right time for me. I didn’t see the value in continuing with any regular therapy. I didn’t need help understanding what my grief was. And that was the truth. I knew exactly what it was. I wasn’t dealing with unfinished business or regret. I was dealing with a broken heart.

The first two months of therapy were hard. Summer was hard. I was leaving a place I loved, a place where I had found calm and stability. I was addressing things that I had tucked away into a “safe” place in my mind. In my soul. Therapy, by definition, is to ultimately provide relief. To provide healing. But as most of you know, it doesn’t start there. It starts by opening a Pandora’s Box, of sorts. I cried for 2 straight months. Daily. For no apparent reason. It infuriated me. It was confusing to me. It was exhausting. I am not a crier. I rarely lose control of my emotions. I’d Zoom with JH each week and apologize that I was a therapy failure. I arrived embarrassed to our session. I would say, “I can’t believe I’m showing up crying again.”. It honestly seemed insane to me. I’m competitive. I don’t sit well in vulnerability. I don’t like being perceived as weak. To be honest, it sucked. I’d say, “I told you I’d give it 10 sessions so I’m not going to back out, but I’m not seeing the point in this.”. And it still feels self-indulgent. Selfish. She knew what to say and how to say it to better help me understand what was happening. In my mind. With my mind/body connection. I would say things like, “I’m trying to make sense of it”, or “I’m trying to wrap my head around it”. Always my approach. Logic. She encouraged me to come from a less logical angle. I was worried it would never click for me. This idea of approaching things from a heart space. Intellectually, I understood what she was telling me. Emotionally…that was my challenge. Still is. I’m still not sure if I’ll get there. But there are little signs of getting it. This is where my pragmatic side comes in handy. I’m a good student. I like to analyze the shit out of what I’m “feeling” and conclude the how and why of it? Self-awareness isn’t my deficiency. Softness, exposure, loss of control. This is where my real fear rests.

The crying has abated. Thank goodness. 🙄 But in general, I think I have taken some steps backward. I guess it is to be expected. I think JH would disagree. I think she would say I have taken more forward. Depends on which chair one is sitting in, right? Backward, forward? I don’t know. As C would say…..it is what it is.

I’m in it. I’m committed. There is no turning back. Whaddaya gonna do?

She has since discussed some of C’s time with her. Not betraying much. She has spoken in generalities, or of things specific just to me. He told her I would be tough. Resistant. I wouldn’t want help but probably needed it. He told her I was stuck. I couldn’t move on with things the way they were. I would keep holding out hope. She said she could see the transition already happening in him. The space he occupied - moving from this world into the next. They spoke of his acceptance. The peace he felt. That he was ready. I didn’t see it at the time. I couldn’t. I still don’t know if I can. It’s bigger than my brain can process. I recently read a text between C and Hugh Fagan. I came across it by accident. I wasn’t even looking through his texts. It was along the same lines. Reiterating the peace he felt. It was a goodbye text. Hugh, having had AML, knew exactly what the end looked like.

The fact that we didn’t discuss this one thing - this one thing he discussed with multiple people - has been difficult for me. But I have to assume and have subsequently discussed in therapy, that he knew I wasn’t in a place to accept it. Hear it? And that makes me feel like an asshole. That I wasn’t there for him on that. It breaks my heart. And that will be my burden to bear, for however long it sits with me. But the comfort I give myself is in knowing that he didn’t have one second of ever questioning that he was everything to me. The love of my life - then and always. For the entirety of our time together. Not just when it counted the most. And shit, he knew I was flawed!! Clearly, or how else did he make it through 20+ years with me!?!

I’m trying to focus on the here and now. Just enjoying the moment I am in. The day I am in. Not jumping ahead. Not worrying about things that don’t yet exist. Baby steps in moving forward. Letting Austin just be fun. New experiences…

October has been nonstop! I went home to Dallas for 6 days over TX/OU. Went to the game with Ashley and her sisters (and of course Blake who was over on the opposing OU side). What a game!!! It was the first time we had been back since we were there with C (and Morgan) in 2019. Those moments are always sobering. The following weekend I went to ACL all three days (thanks to my SIL - Morgan’s ex, Kristin). Day 1 was with her, Day 2 with nieces, Day 3 with Morgan. So much fun!! The following weekend I went to Formula 1 (Sunday!!!) and Austin FC playoff game that night! Who gets both of those in one day!?! And I just returned from a weekend in Nola. About 30 of us went to celebrate our friend Monica's 50th bday. The first of many 50th’s to come. Nola never disappoints and she planned it to perfection.

By the end of the weekend, our synapses were not firing. Case in point:

We needed to be out of our Airbnb by 10am, but none of our flights left before 2pm. Solution? Brunch on a patio. I won’t divulge who was in charge of calling Uber, but one of us did. Upon arrival, we went out to Tetris our suitcases into the back of the too-small XL that came. There were 6 of us with 6 suitcases. We spent about 10 minutes trying to fit it all and eventually nestled into our seats (some with suitcases on our laps). And we’re ready! Off we go to Lula’s! About 4 houses later (30 yards?), the driver pulled over and announced, “ok, you’re here.”. Yep. You read that correctly. Pretty much sums up the weekend. 🤣

My days in Austin are kept busy by Morgan, the girls, friends, Town Lake, Pilates, and Yoga. It is so great to just pop over and say hi to Morgan (we haven’t lived in the same city since HS), grab the girls for after-school gelato, go on a walk with Stacy (Kennedy Mackintosh), or grab coffee with Sylvia (Kim Rhee), or meet Kristin for mani/pedi/drinks (nieces mom) or Lisl (Morgan’s fiancé) for drinks. I have an incredible support system here. I have college friends that I see, and new friends I have made. I love the people that surround me. I’ve said it before - we have always had the good fortune of an abundance of love and friendship. Austin has reminded me of my blessings here. ❤️

I would like to figure out what I’m going to be when I grow up. 😂 Someone once said to me, “maybe you'll have a Eureka moment”. I’m waiting! I perhaps have some pre-Eureka moments. Little lightbulbs in my head - dimly lit, but there. I have inexhaustible energy and too many hours in a day. I would like to find something that moves me. Something that I can pour my energy into. Something to call my own. My accomplishment. I’m sure it will come. I’m open.

I’m still undecided about where I will ultimately end up. When I leave Austin in mid-January, I am going straight to Palm Springs to do a week-long writing retreat with Christie Tate (HS friend and NYT best-selling author). I hesitated, but I think it will be really good for me. I was glad to learn there will be a few attendees that are also very green.

I’ll be traveling quite a bit in February, but plan on settling into Dallas by March 1st. It is time I tackle our life. The 5000 sq ft of furniture awaiting me in our storage units. I had intended to travel for 4 months. It will have been 2.5 years when I finally settle in. I am planning on staying in Dallas for the remainder of 2023. I think it will take that long. I think I need to be back amongst our things. Logistically and emotionally. I think it will be a lot to take in. I don’t want to rush myself through it. Living the last couple of years with neutral, generic, and impersonal surroundings has afforded me a “reprieve” from reality. Other than having C and Bingley with me, I don’t have one personal item. I don’t think I could have made it through the last two years with physical reminders. The emotions consumed every bit of me. Our material life staring me in the face wouldn't have been manageable. Honestly, it was inconceivable. I’m now equal parts reluctant and eager to be with all of it. And it just needs to happen! I can’t keep avoiding it!

I am hoping the time spent in Dallas will give me some clarity. Clear the path to see some version of myself down the road. If you ask me today, I think remaining nomadic is most likely the continued journey for me. I don’t think I’m ready for roots. But I’m also not naive. Life detours us when we least expect it so I don’t think in certain terms anymore. I heard this in a movie the other day and logged it in the back of my mind. “No one travels without purpose. Those who are lost wish to be lost.” I’m tucking it away - making sure to keep myself honest when it comes to decisions about where life moves me. That is what all of this is leading me to discover. Who will I become? It started with survival, then acceptance, discovering laughter again, and allowing forward momentum. I’m not gonna sugarcoat it - there are days all of these go out the window and hope is seen only through a narrow pinhole at the end of a very dark tunnel. But some days are light and funny and my fingers give a quick brush across his name where his physical self remains, and that’s it. I move along. There are days when I think…. "this is it, Ashley. Your second chapter in life is here. There is no alternative but to accept it. The choice is whether to squander it or run openly into the blank canvas that is yours.”

I find myself often saying, “Well, in my normal life”. If I’m speaking with someone, forget the topic - it might be something innocuous, and that is how I might preface an answer to a question. I said it last week in therapy and JH said to me, “Ashley, this is your normal life….”. Big pause for me. Fucking tears again. We went on to discuss it at length. Our “life” isn’t coming back. C and I are always together, but won’t be again, in that same way, while I am in this world. She gently encouraged me to see that this is my life now. Period.

Therapy, y’all….

Hope this finds you all well,

A

https://open.spotify.com/track/4teZepJSNQ6IRDymiMqV9C?si=Haw03zMkRjmysHny8tS_lQ

Austin - Town Lake (4 blocks from my bldg downtown 😍)

Utah….

TX/OU

Tia/Fordy slumber party 💕

ACL with Kristin 👯‍♀️

Nola!!