Wish the wind would blow me.....

So here we go. I came to Vail a week ago on Sunday. Can’t quite pinpoint my feelings about leaving NYC. I’d been there over a month. 4 weeks and 3 days to be exact. I had settled into a really nice rhythm. C and I always talked about a bucket list item being a year in the city. Just rent a place for a year and soak it up. See what it’s all about when it’s more than a weekend trip. I found myself loving the pace of it. The constant movement. Being amongst people without having to be with them. I liked that there was always somewhere to go. To walk. To explore.

I did everything you could safely do in the city. Tons of museums (The Met, MoMa, Guggenheim, The Whitney, Jewish Heritage) walked ALL across the city, spent time at outdoor venues (Hudson Yards, Highline, Vessel, Edge, Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, CP zoo), sidewalk dinners with my new friend KK (Dina’s friend and stylist of many years), spent time with KB & Jen including a lovely homemade dinner on election night at their place right next to Prospect Park. Lots of lunches and dinners with Dina, including an amazing surprise to The Peak with the best seat in the house! She knew that I didn’t want to do the Edge (highest observation deck in the Western Hemisphere) by myself with my extreme fear of heights. So without warning, in an elevator we went. I made my way to Dina and Dave’s in CT. An adult weekend of patio dinners, doggie walks down by the water, great conversations about anything and everything. Good poking fun of Dina so Dave would have some future ribbing in his arsenal. 😁 Babs ended up in the city overlapping a few of my last days there. Her cousin‘s place is only about 20 blocks from Dina’s so plenty of walking back and forth, grabbing dinner, etc. I went to a Shaman two different times. Dr. Suhu. He was the ideal person for me in that moment. Extremely calming, empathetic without pitying, a man of fairly few words, and a vessel for energy healing. Much like the Reiki master that came to see C in the hospital. C was a little more of the “one and done” school of thought. I remember him saying in his matter-of-fact way that sure, “I liked it and it was relaxing, but no”. 😂 My sessions were extremely meditative. I was calm on a level that I really don’t know that I’ve ever been. My extremities literally felt like they'd melted away into a puddle of water. I couldn’t tell where my hand ended and my arm began. And on both occasions, I actually had a good night of sleep. That alone 🙏🏼.

Anyway, I think Connecticut was the first time I have been “away” from Craig. I didn’t bring him with me. It seemed like too much. Not bc anyone would have judged or even known, but it just seemed like I shouldn’t for some reason. Of course once I was there, I regretted not having brought him. And the crazy part to that is bc I felt like he should see Connecticut. How irrational is that? He isn’t looking out of the box at the landscape. He’s either right here with me, or he isn’t. Obviously the other part is bc I feel totally out of sorts without him. This is something I realize I will have to come to terms with at some point. Although no sooner am I saying that as I’m thinking….why? Why can’t I take him on every trip I ever go on for the rest of my life??? It doesn’t seem like an unreasonable idea to me. Here’s the thing about desperately missing someone. It’s not a lack of acceptance that he is gone. It’s that the missing doesn’t seem to lessen any and so what you make your new reality is entirely up to you. It doesn’t mean I’m not continuing on with life. I wake up every morning, I exercise, I take care of anything and everything that needs attention, I eat, I sleep, I talk to people, I even laugh. Who’s to say there is anything wrong with just choosing to still be married and simply do it in a less conventional way?? I don’t see that changing for me. I don’t see myself detouring from my current path. I’m sure if I wasn’t the one in this position, I’d be telling someone else that time will change some of that. That eventually they need to try to break at least some of the daily rituals or routines. Not move on, but not stay stuck. At a point, it would be fair to reason that someone is stuck in their pain and grief. Stuck in their level of acceptance. Stuck in their ability to reason, logically. But when you’re in it, anything that provides a level of comfort is totally within the the bounds of adopting as reality. Going to sleep with him, looking at pictures of him as the last thing each night before I close my eyes, kissing “him“ when I first wake up. Why would any of that ever need to change? Why can’t I just continue on with my marriage? It seems odd to me when anyone implies anything to the contrary. Someone mentioned that I had my rings on a few days ago. Where else would they be but on my finger? And she didn’t even mean it in a bad way. I know that. But just the notion that there would be any question. I read something the other day that said the people that have left us become otherworldly. They don’t think about things the same way we do. They only want for the people they love to be happy, to let the pain go, to live. But who told them that? Did the author of that convenient notion get a postcard from beyond? I think these are the things we tell ourselves to justify moving forward. I know Craig would not want to see me anguished. This goes without saying. But does he want me to move on, stop being married to him? This seems like a real leap for all of us left behind to rationalize. But look at everything else I’m rationalizing. That’s probably a real example of the pot callling the kettle black. I know at some point I have to focus on the true, and honest, and beautiful, and wonderfully flawed love and life we had instead of just the pain of him being gone. But the pain and grief of him being gone seems to keep winning this battle. I’m sure he’s pushing hard though for me to redirect the sadness to all the life and fun we share. He wasn’t one for dwelling on the things you can‘t change. And he certainly wasn’t one for a tidal wave of emotion!! He’d be beside himself. 🙅🏻‍♂️ So I’m trying, Ludes.

I’ve recognized since leaving Dallas almost two months ago, that I am not me anymore. I am not the same person that said goodbye to my husband on 3.28.20, and I’m not sure if I ever will be again. Hard to know how much of it is running from something, or survival, or just change. I said to a friend that I literally feel like I’ve undergone a change at the molecular level. Like I’m just no longer me. I’m lost on what I used to think was important to me, or what I cared about or had interest in. I read this somewhere the other day and thought it spoke to many of the feelings when you lose your person:

”The death of a spouse or partner is different than any other losses, in the sense that it literally changes every single thing in your world going forward. When your spouse dies, the way you eat changes. The way you watch TV changes. Your friend circle changes (or disappears completely). Your financial status changes. Your job situation changes. It effects your self-worth. Your self-esteem. Your confidence. Your rhythms. The way you breathe. Your mentality. Your brain function. (Ever heard the term ‘widow brain?’ If you don’t know what that is, count yourself as very lucky). Your physical body. Your hobbies and interests. Your sense of security. Your sense of humor. Your sense of womanhood or manhood. EVERY. SINGLE. THING. CHANGES. You are handed a new life that you never asked for and that you don’t particularly want. It is the hardest, most gut-wrenching, horrific, life-altering of things to live with.”

We waited desperately in the last round of chemo to see if C’s DNA might change. If we could go from monosomic (single) and trisomic (extra) chromosomal abnormalities back to normal, but we never got that far. It’s what would have given us hope that he had any chance of beating his disease. Albeit the odds improbable - we had hoped. I have a whole different view of that science now. Compared to when it was explained to us. It’s daunting looking back and thinking about the magnitude of information you ingest. How your brain makes room to understand and process so much. And the layering of information as you go along. It would be impossible to grasp it all if it was explained at the onset. The dissemination of information is opposite of what I would have thought. You start with the outer layers and move toward the nucleus. I guess without peeling back the surface layers, it would simply be too much to take in the whole picture. Both emotionally and intellectually. And I read and studied constantly - it still amazed me how much I didn’t know. How many new things were brought up on a weekly basis in rounds.

I mentioned in this, and in my last update, that I did a ton of walking in the city. I at least did the East-West loop almost daily in Central Park. That was door-to-door about 8 miles. With that always came music - the ever constant that continually circles back. Such a staple in our lives. When my Ludes first left, our music playlists brought me comfort. Then at some point I started hearing and finding new songs (half were intuitive app suggestions, other half me). With the new music, I started feeling sad when I’d hear any of it. Sad at the reminder he wasn’t here to listen, sweeping pain that I knew he’d like the new songs, but would never know them. I wasn’t sure what to do with all of that. Then I started thinking maybe he was helping to introduce me to new music. Maybe the songs were suggested or found intentionally. Maybe there was more to it. There have been many signs from him. Not reaching ones either - real, legit signs. Notably, some have come when I have asked and desperately needed them. As many times as I doubt his whereabouts, the signs make me think he knew exactly what he was talking about when he pointedly told me he’d always be right here with me. Like it was his swan song for me.

The music piece always reminds me of a hilarious story that I still laugh out loud every time I think of it. Some of y’all know it already. It’s made the rounds over the years. For those that don’t, you’ll easily be able to visualize this scene of Craig in your head - front and center in his worst nightmare. I think it was our first Christmas in our house (most recent house). We are pretty strict with our neighbor policy. Basic tenet - keep them at a polite distance. Try to log friendly waves from the comfort of the car. Use Bingley as an excuse to keep the walk moving. C had totally mastered this. However, he didn’t always include me in his retreat. 🤬 I think he thought that was pretty funny. It was.

Anyway, our front door and adjacent window were basically all glass. Once you committed to answering a knock, there was no going back. I think I either had a mask on my face or was already in pajamas when the doorbell rang. I encouraged C to get it. Why, I have no idea? We NEVER answered it. It must have been a gift from the heavens, just for me. As soon as I heard the door open, the chorus of carolers came with it. Undoubtedly the neighbors we had been keeping at an arms length. 😬 Don’t get me wrong, they were super great neighbors. We just prefer boundaries. And they sounded great too. But as the singing started, all I could imagine was C’s face and extreme discomfort. Him standing alone at the door, making awkward eye contact at what sounded to be 6-8 people singing to him. I started just slightly bent over with my laughter. Still composed enough to remain mostly vertical. But when the song ended and he attempted an “oh, that’s great. Thank you.”, and I heard them break into a second song, I hit the floor. It was honestly one of the funniest things I have ever not seen. Can y’all imagine him? The look on his face? His level of discomfort? Hardly one for one-on-one serenades. 😂😂 Omg - what I wouldn’t have given to actually see it. I was rolling on the floor with tears streaming down my face when he came back in the kitchen. All he said was, “you suck”. Maybe “you fucking suck”. Likely the latter.

Anyway, I‘ll leave you with that little gem of a snapshot....

https://open.spotify.com/track/4yQx8FrAG0eQrn3uhBhjbj?si=ka23a5WKQNS8zjJyT7VthA

I don’t know if this attached (tried to do Spotify and YouTube), but it’s a song that has come to me by Bob Schneider - Wish the Wind Would Blow Me.....❤️ If only....

Wishing you all have a very safe and hopefully low key Thanksgiving.

Hope this finds you all well,

Ashley

Central Park

Museum of Jewish Heritage with Lady Liberty in the background

The Vessel from the top - which for my fear of heights is saying something

KB & Jen on The High Line

Lots of quirky art with KB at The Whitney

With Dina at the Edge before our amazing dinner! 💕

Another evening at the Edge with Babs!

The Edge

Connecticut....

Vail this morning ❄️