Teacher, Teacher.

Damn, It's been a year so far. Got "home" from Europe after an amazing time, hung out in New England for a few weeks, moved back to Texas, dabbled in freelance adventure work, chilled with my nephew, spent time with friends, and now... back to work. The first day of school is Monday. Football practice started a few weeks back, and apparently I'm a football coach again. As well as softball. I have no words for that last sentence: softball...really?

It's super exciting. I love being a teacher. I remember telling Lynds how much I missed it the first semester of Grad school, during the annual bombardment of facebook with first day of school posts. I questioned everything, because it took being away to realize how much I adore this profession. I adore teaching, I adore Carter Riverside, I adore the kids I teach. Every single one of them (I take that back, there are some goobers). So I guess I adore most of the kids. But if time has shown me anything, it's that the kids who are irritating as hell, sometimes, turn into amazing adults whom I'm incredibly proud to have given my small "This one's ok-ish" stamp. And if you wonder, yes, I'm always honest: aka "you were a shithead in HS, who would have thunk you'd be doing what you're doing." This is a good move in my life. I think teaching will provide rigidity and the selfless constitution I need to get back to.

It's a weird space for me. As are most things I guess. It's strange, at some point someone told me "you never get better, you just get different." I don't know if truer words have ever been spoken. My classroom is the same as when I left teaching four years ago. I open the door of my Learning Cottage (It's not a portable classroom if it's been there for 40 years), and remember LJ sitting on the railing of the walkway with lunch she brought me. I remember the kids telling me how she was totally out of my league. I remember putting up whiteboards Lynds and I bought because the district refused to give me any. My classroom bears witness to the orange wall she and I painted in order to spice up my classroom. I have the same coaching complaints I had years ago, but don't have her to muse about them anymore. I mowed the practice field today (yup, in FWISD the coaches are responsible for mowing our own fields...), and thought about how happy it would make her when I would mow our yard in New Hampshire. It reminds me of the days of my American Dream.

Being a teacher is an honor. I had an offer to run a retail store for twice what I will make teaching, and I had to make the calls to CRHS to try one last time to be a teacher again. I thought about the response I would have to give if I worked retail. I am proud of my profession, and I'll take making less and being able to say "I'm a teacher" anyday. If I'm totally honest, I'm terrified of being back in the classroom. It's been four years. Do I have it in me anymore? I've lost the energy, care and ability to cope with so many things in my life. I don't play board games anymore. I can count the number of times I've cooked a meal since she died on one hand. God I hope teaching is different. I know it will be. I have always thrived. I will always thrive. I refuse to be defined by tragedy. She wouldn't have let me. I'm nervous of the question "Yo Coach, are you married?" But I refuse to hide anything from my kids. If asked in a respectful way, I do not believe there are any inappropriate questions. Creative answers? Yes, but no hiding, lying or being upset with questions. So what is my response going to be. Honesty... Is it a reality that I may lose my shit if a kid asks the right questions on the right day? Absolutely. It's ok to be human, especially when many students never realize that teachers have feelings/lives/exist outside of school.

I have more to say, but I worked 15 hours yesterday and 8 today, I'm nowhere near as eloquent as I like to be, and I have stuff that I should be doing for class on Monday. Suffice it to say that I have amazing people and colleagues in my life. I feel loved. I feel supported. I feel happy with my new (old?) job. It's time to rebuild my shattered American Dream. Hopefully this is the first step... It has to be.

London to Alacante

As I sit next to Seth on this "first class" train, were currently headed to Montpelier, France. We're trying to get to Nice, but the Spanish train station could only get us to Montpelier, and they told us it was our issue to get any farther. I put "first class" in quotations because by US standards, this is a cattle car. I mean, at least we have more space than our multiple second class tickets. I think this is the same train car my mom probably took in Switzerland in the 60's. So we've been pretty busy so far, so I'll start at the beginning and try to put some sense to what we've done. One thing is our pictures (save London and most of Paris, because I need to change the file type to upload them, doh!) are on flickr. It should be flickr.com/matt_and_seth_Europe.html thats a bad link, but i'll try to figure it out before too long.

London: So I missed my flight but Seth made his and kinda got a lay of where we were staying so that was nice. We used London as a place to get our bearings, you know, cause they speak English. We did all the basic sight seeing stuff, London Bridge, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, London Eye, Banksy Art, Jack the Ripper stuff, yeah...it was a world wind. The highlight for both of us was New Years Eve in London. We, as is kinda our MO, had made no plans. We had however made pretty awesome friends with some Australians (also now our MO). They had tickets to a place called the Somerset House to watch the fireworks, but on the day of, two friends bailed due to sickness. And seeing as our new Australian friends had just made two new American friends, we won out. Free tickets to the Somerset House, which is a palace right on the river Thames. There was free champagne, no crowds (other than the plebes outside the gates by the drove), fellowship (ok, maybe more than fellowship for two of my compatriots, including Seth...) and just a damn fine time. Some things I'll mention but not go into detail because they are funnier if told in person: I got kicked out of Somerset House, I sent Seth a text about said expulsion, I ate a ghost Hotdog, and Seth may have liberated some of his champagne: "don't worry, i got a towel." Yeah it was a damn fine time. A+ to the Australians.

Paris: We went on a bus...that then went on a train...that then went under the ocean. A little trippy still. Never really been on a bus that they just pulled right onto a train. I guess thats how you do the chunnel. Paris was a good time. Another world wind. We kinda decided that Paris should be called "Land of stairs." We did some awesome things in Paris, and a lot of it was in honor of Lynds. The day before she passed away we talked about how bad she wanted to go, so we spent the anniversary of her death doing two of those things, the Louve and Notre Dame. The Louve is, as it is billed, amazing. One interesting thing about it was the lack of English on anything, you think for the highest regarded museum in the world, it would be multilingual, nope, just French. Lots of cool things, no idea what they were. Notre Damn was amazing. It's an amazing cathedral and we spent some time there and lit a candle in her honor. While she was anti-catholic, she would definitely appreciate the sentiment. It was shortly after I realized that the moment I lit that candle was almost exactly the time that I last heard from her a year previous. Chilling... Other things we did in Paris were climbing the Arc de Triumph, Eiffel Tower, Moulin Rouge, and lots of other things... It's really stunning and kinda jarring when you are just walking down the street and the Eiffel Tower is just RIGHT THERE.

Barcelona: Ahh...Barcelona... There is a reason Barcelona has such a good reputation. Probably because it's freaking awesome. Oh, and the Catalan don't get presents from Santa...they get presents from the "Christmas Shit." The kids feed a small poop candy and food every night and the poop gets bigger and bigger until its big enough and they hit the massive Christmas shit with sticks like a piñata and it has presents... That means the parents must have a bunch of differing sized Christmas craps in their closet... so many things to contemplate. We really liked the beach culture of Barcelona, we did a lot of touristy stuff and also just kinda chilled. The castle of Montjuic was awesome and had some cool views. We also went to the oldest Synagogue in Europe which was pretty cool as well. It definitely gives you some perspective when you compare the everyday chapels and basilicas to the oldest Synagogue. With a name like "Synagogue Major" you would assume it wasn't a two room alcove off a minor street. It's striking the difference. Christians seem to like to make statements, and the Jews just want to be. Speaking of Christians: Seth and I had many conversations at a lot of the churches and cathedrals that they sometimes take a hundred years or more to build and how crazy that is. Then we went to La Sagrada Familia. The church was started around 1900... and is STILL being built. It's amazing to watch workers taking a cement mixer to the top, going "your great great grandparents could have been doing the same thing, and your children will probably being doing it too..." The church is AMAZING. You feel like you're in a forest when in the main chamber. A forest with 100 foot concrete trees. We also experienced a Barca game. While I've never been a soccer fan, it was fun as all hell. Watching Barcelona play soccer is amazing. Those dudes know how to play the game. It's like watching Verlander pitch, or Kobe play basketball. A fun experience was had by all. Some interesting observations: no announcer, the stadium is totally bland by American standards and they ran out of food at concessions. Did that last one sink in? THEY RAN OUT OF FOOD. American stadiums throw out TONS of food just to make sure that Bubba can get his cheesy fries in the 4th. Nope, not in Spain, they made what appeared to be almost enough. Except Seth and I were hungry and there was no food to be had. Jerks.

Lisbon: Portugal! Yeah...Bon Dia... Shit Portuguese is way different than Spanish. We arrived after my food poisoning, and a half day train to Madrid, then a 6 hour "try not to puke" layover then the night train in a second class non sleeper car. It sucked. Bad. We arrived and went to our hostel hoping to at least drop our packs and then wander a bit before we could check in. Then the magical hostel man dropped a bomb on us: Oh, you can just go to your room, and have breakfast. It was 8am, with check in not until like 3 or 4. That man should be a damn saint. We had breakfast, chilled, I took a three hour nap, and then we explored. We made our next good Aussie friend in our hostel there, and we had dinner in the Hostel and just enjoyed the company and Portuguese cooking... at least a little. Portuguese food is not for me. It may have been the remnants of my stomach's mutiny, but nothing seemed to sit super well with me. Seth seemed to enjoy it! Lisbon is a cool little city, lots of stairs. Yeah, Europeans aren't skinny because of smaller portions, its the crap breakfast (toast-esque things and croissants EVERY DAY? McDonalds doesn't even have breakfast sandwiches in Spain) and stairs EVERYWHERE. We saw a lot of the sights, experienced the flea market (lots of porn it turns out), and had a fairly laid back time. One highlight for us both was finding new music in the hostel lobby. Chinese Man is good stuff. The songs "Get up" and "Race to the Sun" are amazing. 2 points to whoever had that playing in the lobby.

Alicante Spain: We went to Alicante to see a friend of Seth's from College. It's a little beach town on the Mediterranean. It was really chilled out and the only real tourist thing we did was going to the Castle of Santa Barbara. It was really cool. We went to the "tour" and realized it was only us two and the guide. Not a better one hour tour for 3 euros each. A lot of the tour involved her making fun of British tourists and asking us to correct her English.

Yeah. It's been a trip so far. Now we head to Nice hopefully and from there it's a rally in Monte Carlo (and gambling...damn I love Casinos...), Switzerland, then Italy. We are both so excited to eat our faces off in Italy. Hmmmm...real food... I can almost taste it now...yeah...but unfortunately I'm on this damn train for the next 8 hours. I guess train car sandwiches will do...

Time to Adventure...

I just put my feet up on the bulkhead and instantly I flew back to almost a year ago. The last time I flew in the bulkhead seat was a 6am flight from Manchester headed toward Kansas City. It was the worst time of my life, my wife's body was to follow me, but only after she had an autopsy. She would be following me...but when, and what was the coroner to find out? I was supposed to have results during my layover in Chicago, but that call was sorely unhelpful. It would be a while till I found out what had happened. Its crazy how far my life has come, and the fact that it's been almost a year since my life changed forever. I guess optimistic is a word that I'm trying to embody at this point.
My last week has been an interesting one. I was home in Michigan for my first birthday and Christmas since J passed. Then drove home, finished packing my house, filled a trailer, took care of a few errands, abandoned my house, dropped off Juneau at my friends house, made up with my best friend, took a bus to Boston, missed my first flight, hung out with one of my best friends from college overnight, and finally got on a plane to London. So here I sit, over the Atlantic Ocean, looking back, looking forward and trying to rationalize what my life has become.
I've alluded to this on facebook a fair amount, but I guess i've never really written about it. I'm headed on a big adventure, I guess. As if everyday life isn't an adventure. That is one realization I've had... It's the everyday crap that matters the most. I had a drink with one of my best friends in the world the other night, after a sizable fallout between us, and you realize that it's those moments: the realization of mutual care and admiration, that truly matter. So the big travel adventure starts. I'm headed to Europe. I'm meeting Seth in London (I was supposed to beat him there by a few hours, but apparently 19:50 is not 9:50, and if you show up for a 9:50 flight, you will miss your 19:50 flight) and we are going to tour the continent. We bought two-month rail passes. Seth is set to stay for the two months and after that...well I think I'll head to Asia. There are three places in particular, but we will see where the wind takes me. My plans for after Europe are Dubai, Thailand and Hong Kong. At this point they seem like a good idea, but I may be hankering to get home. Funny...I don't actually have a home. I guess my backpack is my home. All of my belongings are in a trailer depot somewhere in the Metroplex of Texas. I guess I'm homeless. I live wherever I am... What a weird feeling...
Seth and I are both laid back and nomadic (however Seth's nomad lifestyle is one of legend in our friend circle) and we plan on a loose counterclockwise tour of Europe. We will be in London until the 2nd, when we take a bus to Paris, and plan on a few days there before heading south toward Barcelona, Morocco, and then Monaco. I couldn't imagine a better travel mate. Homeboy has always had my back, and I know he always will. It's funny, a lot of people have asked "what if you get sick of each other." I just assumed if that happened we would peace out for a few days and meet back up. I asked him about it and he was like "well,yeah I just assumed that." Yeah, he's pretty rad.
What does life look like when I get back? That is the question in my head. My stuff is going back to the Lone Star. So I guess thats where I'm going. I'm sure my tour of the rest of the world will end with a tour of the US again. However, as I've driven almost 8k miles in the past few months, I don't know if i'll be driving this time. My jeep and June-dog are still in New Hampster, as well as my best friend, so I'm guessing I'll be there for a little while when I get back. Then its probably to Tex to get a place to stay and start finding a job. Ewww. I've been off from Home Depot for almost three months, and damn...you realize how much of a time suck work is... I need to teach. That's another realization I've had. I love teaching, I love the kids, I love being told to "fuck myself" by confused teenagers (honestly, it's one of the most fascinating phenomena to me), I love the lifestyle (you always have something to do, going to basketball, football, volleyball etc games every night can be awesome). So I guess it's happy trails... Let the wind blow and try not to let your sail fail...
Here's to a better 2013 than 2012... as far as I'm concerned 2012 can GTFO and never be brought up again... And by "here's to" I mean the flight attendant is about to bring me drinks... Might as well get liquored up on free booze and take a nap: cause when we land its time to adventure.

Thoughts on a Road Trip, part 1

Damn, so that was a long and short 17 days. It consisted of 12 states (a few a couple of times to boot), 1 province (I could include that it was "two countries" but who considers Canada independent?),  1 World Series game, 1 heart surgery, 4 days at the AEE conference, so many friends (old and new), what I can assume was at least 100 beers, 12 hours in Topeka, 1 new 'nephew', 4000 miles on my STi, countless times I said "holy shit my life is ridiculous," many tears, 10 Whataburger Taquito's, 1 Tarrant County employee that got reamed on my behalf by the great Mr. Shawn McElyea, 66 the number of dollars it cost to finally register my jeep after not registering it for 3 years and after Shawn's call to the courthouse, 3 employees that helped me register my jeep that continually apologized for their crap service (I was told "I can't register a vehicle to a dead person") And... 44 days until a moving truck comes to take me home and away from this painful place.

The World Series was where it all started, I met my brothers Mike and Tim in Detroit and we fooled around in the city before heading to the game. It was the first time, as far as I can remember, that we have hung out as adults, only the three of us. It was awesomely powerful. Growing up, I was always so young, they were adults compared to me. Now it's different, we all have vastly different lives, but our bond as brothers is still there. I never know how well I hide my emotion, and to a certain extent I don't care if I do anymore, but LJ's birthday (October 27th, the day we went to the game) was pretty hard. I don't know if I hid it, or my brothers just took care of me, but it was a lot easier being with them. It's pretty cool having two extremely different guys have your back and want to take care of you. I know those two would do anything for me, and they both have definitely tried their best to take care of their little brother in his time of need. It's something I hope I can repay, but also pray neither have to deal with what I've had to. I remember seeing this commercial and thinking it was pretty accurate to my relationship with them. While we've become a little more vocal in our affection since Lynd's passing, it's still on par. I love those guys. Period.

KU School of Medicine Mascot

From the Series, I went to the University of Kansas Medical Center for Joe's heart surgery (that is LJ's dad). I don't want to put his stuff on blast (as the kids say), but I'll suffice it to say it went well. I'm glad I was there, even if it was very bittersweet. I should be living there, as Lyndsay Jo was slated to be in the Nurse Anesthesia program there. I wish I was living in Kansas City. I found myself looking at name badges, hoping to see "CRNA student," or something of the like. I saw a lot of students using the waiting area we were in to study. I kept dreaming of LJ doing the same, curled up in a comfy chair with the sun beating down through the huge windows. That was the kind of student she was: go find a hidey hole and study between classes, and we had actually talked about the best way for her to succeed was to just assume that she would be on campus 9-5 every day studying (reality would be that it would be much more than that, but eh, you always hope). It was comforting to have someone you care about having surgery in a place that LJ endorsed. LJ took her practice extremely seriously and for her to want to go to school there, it will always be a special place to me, and it will always have my highest esteem. On a humous note, I found out while there that I have a thing for girls in scrubs. I'm not sure there is sexier work attire...than...pajamas. I guess. I'm weird, but I blame LJ for that one. That girl could rock a pair of scrubs.

513 S Prairie View Drive... Where LJ grew Up

I'll decompress both AEE and Texas in another post, so I'll just jump to my 12 hours in Topeka. When driving to/from Madison, Wisconsin the Hendrixson's told me I'd drive right by the house Lynds grew up in. I took the time on the way back pull off the freeway and track down the house. 513 Prairie View Dr. The address was seared into my memory by LJ, as when she talked about growing up in West Des Moines, she would recite it. She always told me about how there was a bike path, and how it went under the roads so you didn't have to ride on the street, and she told me about the park down the street. I wish she was there to show me it, I saw the sights and through tears recalled her stories about growing up. After having a Maid-Rite (if you've never, you really should) I headed back to Topeka. The Topeka stop was incredibly short, eat dinner, do laundry, sleep, leave. As I was having breakfast I got that fun text that Jamie (LJ's best friend) that she procreated. I'm extremely happy for her and Jason and wish them all the best.

As I left town I went and saw J. I told her about Jamie having her kid and just talked to her for a while. While I often wish she was buried closer to me, I think for my emotional and mental health it's best she isn't. I cannot explain the otherworldly draw her grave has on me. It's like when you get magnets at that perfect distance and nothing can keep them apart, and ripping them apart you feel like you're destroying something that needs to be together. I understand why there is a cliché of widows sitting by a grave day after day. Time seems to slip away when I'm there. I wish I could say that it gets easier every time I go, but that isn't the case. Her name in brass letters takes my breath away in the worst way. This time I got mad at her again. It's a fairly common emotion for me, and I recognize it's normal, but it's still weird to tell your wife's grave "I'm still fucking pissed at you."For some reason, this trip was especially hard. Usually I squat in front of the columbarium (It's a column-esque thing with niche's for urns), and just talk to her, and as I leave I'll touch the stone covering her urn. This time was different, I just stood by her, with my head against her name-plate, I was incredibly emotional (worse than normal). It happens I guess. I think a lot of it is coming from making big decisions in my life and not having her here to vet my often poorly thought out plans. I'm trying to make her proud. I miss her.

Weird Space

I have started to realize that I occupy this weird space in the world. By 27, it appears you fall into what I've started to recognize as two distinct patterns: being single, or being with someone. One builds infrastructure around this pattern. Some have a single life; one where you hang out with other single people, do things on your own time, understand how the world runs when your actions only effect you, you guide yourself, and your interactions with those that love and care for you are distinct. The other life, one where you create a life with someone else is vastly different; you hang out with couples, your daily routine is often created and modified with someone else in mind, every action you take effects two people, you have a constant guidance system, and your interactions with loved ones are often muted.

So where do I fit in? I was asked recently if I was married. What is the answer? I said..."well...kinda..." and then went into my canned "my wife passed away" monologue that I've become much better at dealing out and dealing with.  I've realized that the social infrastructure I have is that of a married person, specifically from a married couple that thrived on the adventure of education and goals. This means that in the place I've ended up (New Hampshire), the relationships I've built are built on the premise of the fleetingness of graduate student reality. Had life not taken the unexpected turn it did, LJ and I would have just been part of that system, get your degree and get the hell out. We'd be in Kansas by now. So now, as my social structure has mostly dissolved, I find myself floundering in a totally new world, all without any idea of what my infrastructure should be and should look like. I would say I have trouble navigating this world, but to navigate, one must have a rudder. I feel as though I float, unknowing what to do or where to go, all without any real goal. Whats worse is that, while I have loving friends and family, I no longer have a confidant. I am a fairly private person, so talking to people about my problems/goals/issues is hard and I hate it when people pry, so I get agitated. It used to be that people didn't worry about me because J always took care of me. Now a lot of people get worried about me and want to know every detail of my life, things that I like to keep to myself, and therefore it irritates me. I fight with the reality that I have to decide which one of my friends is my "Emergency Contact" at any given point on any given form. I fight with the fact that, as an outdoor educator especially, whenever I go hike/bike/kayak someone should know where I'm going and when I'll be back, but I don't really have that. My boy Steve has been this lately, but I hate to bother my friends if it's not convenient.

I've always had a direction. First it was to graduate high school, then it was go to college. I met Lyndsay Jo my first month of college, and then she became my goal. From that point on, I always had my rudder. If you haven't heard me explain how I passed my classes, it went like this: "Matt, you need to go home, I have to study" and I would reply "The hell am I going to do at my house?" and LJ would reply "I don't know...maybe actually do homework or study?" And then there would most likely be some derogatory comment about Education majors vs. Nursing majors. And thus I passed my classes, because LJ kicked me out of her room. So after attaining my goal of getting married and graduating college, it was our goal to hang out and be married for a while. On the first of January 2009, Lynds and I had the "Whats next?" conversation and a few months later, we were living out my dream of going to UNH for my masters. After that was LJ going to school, she got into KU and was supposed to start in May. 

So all of a sudden... What the hell am I supposed to do? Go back to teaching? Try and fight the Department of Defense for funding and the access to publish? Buy an RV and drive around for a while (This is seemingly making the most sense right now...)? Where do I belong? I'm fairly certain it isn't in New Hampsters. The possibility of a job in Michigan came up today, but do I want to start all over? Is Michigan my home? Ones personal decision making flow relies on some sort of loop counter: "if all else fails default to..." for single people, this often is someone they trust, or perhaps their gut (this is purely conjecture, I have no idea how to navigate this landscape...), while persons in relationships have their confidant to go "what the HELL am I supposed to do?" I have no idea how to negotiate this minefield. I always looked to LJ, who in the words of my friend Gabe "was way smarter, more level headed, more grounded and way better looking" than myself. On a side note, I used to tell J that I married up, and she always got kind of upset, but sorry babe, I did. 

Another hard part of the situation I'm in is what is right and what is wrong, and the feeling of living for me, or living for J, or living to honor her? I constantly ask myself "Who am I living for?" and "What would JJ think?" I worry a lot about Caleb, LJ's little brother, in this way too. (Sorry bud, I know you are probably going to read this...hopefully it's not too weird) I hope he lives his life for himself and doesn't feel the pressure to do what he thinks J would have wanted, and that no exterior pressure influences him. I know we (LJ's parents and myself) have tried very hard not to put our hopes and dreams for Lynds onto him. I hope this continues, because I know the pressure to do right by LJ as her husband, I can't imagine being her little brother. She may have been tiny, but those are some massive shoes to fill, and shoes she wouldn't want filled, but instead footprints she would want next to hers in excellence. 

So this feels weird, but... what is right and wrong? I have no idea, but i'm sure every critic in my life would show up if I made a wrong decision on this one. I'm 27, and miss intimacy. Not only sexual intimacy (don't get me wrong...) but just the feeling of closeness, the idea that if I have a knot in my back I would have someone to fix it (she often would just know and fix this knot in my back that is pervasive and where I hold my stress), waking up next to someone, someone to go to the movies with (I went by myself last night... that was a new low...), someone to put sunscreen on my back, someone to snuggle on the couch with, just someone to spend time with who cares about you in *that* way. I can't imagine anyone being near what LJ was in my life, but it doesn't mean I don't miss and want that feeling of closeness. Eh...It is what it is, I guess. 

Its been a while

So, its been a while since I posted. I think about posting a lot, but often try to occupy my time in other ways. I think this is, in psychology, what we call avoidance... but, eh, whatever. I avoid much bigger things, so avoiding writing online isn't the worst thing. And self awareness that I'm avoiding is also important, so F it, whatever.

Its been a little over four months since LJ passed away. I think I've hit the point when people start to think I should be back to "normal." This may make sense to them, and I wish I felt normal sometimes. The reality is that LJ being gone is constantly in the forefront of my mind. Some days as I'm driving home, I still think about calling her and letting her I know I'm almost there. Other days, I wake up from a nap on the couch and think about making dinner for both of us. Lately, as the Big Bang Theory is on TV, I will close my eyes and imagine singing the theme song with her. I guess the point is, LJ being gone is still fresh.

It's funny, having dedicated my life to education in one form or another, seeking knowledge and how things/people work has always been paramount. In this way, I have spent a lot of time researching grief. As if having a theoretical understanding will help with the practicality of my dealing with her loss. I've come to realize/theorize I don't really believe in "stages" of grief, I think they are more like tenants of grief. Some days I'm still in shock, other days I scream at her for dying on me, and still others I have hope for the future. They come in no real order or predictable pattern, but all "tenants" are present. I guess this is just the "theory informs practice" we always talked about in grad school.

LJ was so proud of her little brother. This pic was almost a year ago today.
I'm excited to see the little punk on Saturday! 

I've also hit another interesting barrier in my life: Interactions with friends and acquaintances that I haven't seen or talked to since before Lynds passed away. This came up for the first time when the mountain bike park opened. People I haven't seen or talked to since last fall are all of a sudden in my life again. It becomes this weird thing for me, and maybe them as well. Do they know? Do they want to know? Are they afraid to say something? Should I say something? It's especially weird because I read too far into any interaction, because I know what happened, and I constantly wonder if they know. I'm dreading this a bit when I head home for our anniversary, since Petoskey is small and as far as I know, my family is the only Chisholm family, and Lyndsay Jo's obituary was in the paper there. I guess I just beg this of future interactions with people I haven't seen/talked to (and anyone you know that has had something like this happen to them...): Just say something about my loss. Just "I heard, i'm really sorry," or "it sucks what happened." It takes the pressure off of me wondering if you know, or if I should bring it up.

My life isn't all bad though. I do have a lot of blessings and cool things. One is the car, if you haven't heard of or seen my baby, I'll post a pic. Its a 2011 Subaru WRX STi, my other dream car. I now have both of my dream cars. Your garage is jealous of mine, trust me. I have also mostly finished the basement, a project that J and I really wanted to get done. A good friend from work has made it what seems like a personal pet project to finish the damn thing, not to mention all the help my brother gave me when he was here. I find the need to say how loved I feel. I have amazing people in my life, most willing to listen to my sorrow, happiness, crazy ideas, etc. Thank you, I hope you know who you all are. I guess i'll finish with some random musings...

1. LJ must have dusted our house a ton, and I never noticed. Seriously, there is a lot of dust up in here. 
2. LJ had a lot of chapstick/lipstick/lip gloss. Holy crap. There is at least one or two in every cubbyhole, jacket, and purse she owned. 
3. Ipads are as cool as LJ thought they were. I didn't think we needed one, but promised her an iPad 3 when she got into grad school. She never got the chance to buy one, so I fulfilled that promise. 
4. The new YOLO thing pisses me off and kinda strikes a sore nerve. 
5. LJ loved the original version, I think she would have liked this one more: Airplanes part II
6. Lyndsay Jo would have loved this song and video. I'm really pissed she never had the chance to see it. Somebody I Used to Know WOTE

So the cops showed up today...

So as I'm getting ready to take Seth to the bus station, I get a knock at the door. I pop down the stairs and see the officer that was here the day of Lynds' death. After stepping outside, the officer asks me for my friend Ben's phone number, as I'm looking it up I just casually ask why (Ben and his wife Janine were staying with us the night before). He then gets all officer serious face and says he needs to investigate Lynds' death further because of her toxicology screen. I don't really remember where the conversation goes from there, but I pretty much say what the hell are you talking about, I've seen her tox screen and the final cause of death. They were mutually exclusive. All she had in her system was caffeine.

My mind races, what the hell is he talking about, my wife was straight as an razor. She didn't even drink a glass of wine on her 21st. There was no way that LJ would have taken her own life, as he started to imply. He kept saying, "her death is under investigation, we'll have to investigate further and talk to the medical examiner." I replied, more than once, I've talked to Dr. Duvall and she gave me the final cause of death and a copy of the toxicology screening. At this point, he asks me "are you ok?" as i'm trembling and barely holding myself upright on the railing. I'm pretty sure I gave him a terrible look and said "Noooo." Really, you're going to imply my wife took her own life and ask if i'm ok? At some point he asks "never even marijuana?" I replied "hell no." Later he described the drugs found on this phantom tox screen as "a plethora of drugs." I remember this distinctly as he pronounced it as "Pleth-aura." As I continue to tremble and almost collapse (I've only collapsed a few times in my life, and all three times were in this officers presence...), I say "I need to call the medical examiner right now." He explains they will be in touch and he leaves. 

I go inside and brief Seth on what i'm sure he heard tidbits of through the door. Frantically I dig through my laptop bag to find the number to the ME's office. I call and leave a message. Seth had to catch a bus back down to NYC, so we leave to take him to the station (I probably shouldn't have driven in hindsight). On the drive I get a call from "blocked" and I assume it's the ME office, thank God it was. I talk to the ME and she gives me reassuring news "their crazy, I don't know what information their going off of, but I'm looking at her Tox screen and it looks like she drank a Coke." I ask her to call Farmington PD and clarify what the hell is going on. She assures me that any information regarding Lyndsay Jo would go through her office and it was in fact LJ's heart that was her cause of death. This is reassuring news and it calms my smoked nerves a little. But my mind races:

LJ wouldn't have ended her own life. LJ wouldn't have done drugs. IF she wanted to do drugs, i'm sure she would have told me. IF she wanted to do drugs, i'm sure she wouldn't have done them in excess, she was a badass nurse knowing peoples limits. IF she was going to end her own life, she would have told me somehow. IF she was going to end her own life, why would she do it mid text conversation? IF she was going to take her own life, she would have done it stealthily as to make sure I got life insurance money. IF she was going to do it, there would have been warning signs. IF she was going to do it, she wouldn't have been fresh out of the shower. She WOULDN'T do it.

It's a Diet Coke. And Ikea. LJ was happy as a clam... There is actually another picture of this same bookcase with just her hand and Coke in the picture, she thought that was an important addition. I think she may have made a comment on making sure we had something for "scale." 

I get back to Farmington and go straight to the police station. I wait what seems like forever and the officer comes out and says "The Sgt will be here in about 30 minutes, we can talk after that." I inquire if the ME office called him and he tells me that they have not, in fact, called. It's now after 5, and I lose all hope of throwing this one in the bag tonight, and start to prepare for another sleepless night. 

I get home and go to my files. LJ's family needed a copy of the autopsy as to further screen them for ARVD, and when I wrote the request, I requested a copy be sent to me. I had no plans on ever opening it, but it's one of those things you want 'Just in case'. I grab the autopsy and rip it open, flipping through it to find the toxicology report. Right at the top "Caffeine," further down it reads "The reported qualitative result for this substance is indicative of a finding commonly seen following typical use and is usually not toxicological significant."  Ok... So what the hell do the cops have that I (and the ME) don't? Did another Lyndsay Jo Chisholm die in Farmington of a drug overdose? I mean, it is a metropolis of 6000 people. 

I called Andrea and talked through it. The cops HAVE to be wrong. I have significant legal documentation proving them wrong. They wouldn't have issued final death certificates if the tox screen was at all questionable. She talked to me and calmed me down a bit until Juneau started barking, alerting me that someone was in the yard. 

I invite the cops in, it seems super serious, we're all on edge. We sit down at my dinner table and I set the autopsy report opened to the toxicology report in front of me. The sergent remarks "you have the same report we do." Interesting... Cause i've read it, and it says she drank a Diet Coke. At this point they explain to me that they misread the report and this was only the second time they have used this lab. After it lists what was in her system, it lists what they screen for, as well as the tolerances. They read this as being what was in her system. In their defense, I misread it the first time too, but you know, figured it out, cause I can read. I talk with the officers for perhaps 10 minutes just listening to them apologize and talking about what was her cause of death. They actually brought me a copy of the fax they got from the ME saying she died of ARVD. Really? You think I didn't know as soon (probably sooner?) as you did, a few weeks ago?

After they leave, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. LJ loved life, she loved me, she loved her future as a CRNA, she loved her family and Juneau. The idea that someone would question that crushed me. Thank God it was only a few hours of painful wondering. I think the only thing that saved me from being totally unfathomably pissed was how sorry they were, and the fact that it was the same officer that was here the night LJ passed away. I give him great credit, he dealt with me in my absolute worst hour with professionalism, care and compassion. At one point, he actually picked me up off my kitchen floor and got me into a chair. I know making fun of podunk police forces is easy, and in many cases (like today...) they seem like Barney Fife, but on the 3rd of January, he excelled and was an amazing human doing an often thankless job. I made sure to let his boss know that as we were sitting in my dining room tonight. 

I miss you JJ.

So...I had planned on trying to make my post today not depressing or crazy. Yeah, that worked out. Maybe next time i'll tell the Lenscrafters story or maybe about the time LJ tried to eat the last mint she had previously offered me. For tonight, i'm gonna drink a beer and try to keep breathing...

PS: I talked to a few people tonight in my stupor. You all know who you are, Thank you.