I don't know where to begin, so let's begin with the music that has been sustaining me over the last month. As I type I'm listening to Explosions in the Sky, this band has always helped my creative process, but if I listen to them too long I get too contemplative. I've somehow found myself coming back to Kanye West's latest album "Yeezus". I hated the album when it came out because I thought it was narcissistically mediocre. But, something about "Blood on the Leaves" has captured me, the emotion of the song matches my emotion some days. There's anger in the song, I don't have a lot of anger, but the mood of the song identifies the trace amount of anger that lingers inside me. Obviously, the lyrics don't really coincide with what I'm experiencing. And, of course, I keep finding myself coming back to my favorite alt-country albums. Trace by Son Volt and Stranger's Almanac by Whiskeytown have been a consistent soundtrack for my life the past 6 months.
Let's talk about the Tiffany Tour.
For a description of what the trip was going to be, please revisit this post.
The trip went off without a hitch. No car problems. No accidents. No major detours to speak of. The final trip odometer was 2,146.1 miles.
I really enjoyed seeing everyone and spending time with them. But, before I can tell you more about the trip, I have to tell you about a movie.
Before I left for the trip, I watched a movie called "The Way". Emilio Estevez wrote, directed, and played a part in the film. And, his father Martin Sheen played his father in the film. Emilio isn't in the film much, his character dies early on in the film while he's attempting to hike the Camino de Santiago. His father goes to Spain to collect his remains, but decides to walk the pilgrimage. It's a great film and I would recommend it. But, the reason I'm telling you about it is because there are scenes in the film where Martin Sheen's character sees his son along the journey. Not in a ghostly sort of way, or a cheesy "Hey, did you see that!?" sort of way. He just sees his son doing the things his son would have done if he would have hiked the trail, and it brought him peace. In the depth of the grief of losing his son, he found comfort in remembering the things his son loved to do. And, in those moments, he was with his son again.
On the Tiffany Tour, I saw Tiffany.
Again, not in a ghostly sort of way. I just saw her imprint on all the places I stopped along the way. I saw her sitting around the table laughing with us as we told stories over beers. I saw her so happy to see new babies and baby bumps. I saw her relaxing in the cabin that she loved so much. I heard her reprimanding me for bringing up funny/embarrassing memories. She was there.
Most of the time, these feelings brought me happiness. But, sometimes they made me weep like a child as soon as I drove far enough to not be spotted by those I was leaving.
The trip was long. The trip was exhausting. The trip was joyful. The trip was sad. The trip was needed. The trip was worth it.
The last night of the tour was in Chicago, where it all began. Julie and Ozzie surprised me by having these shirts made for their softball team. I was blown away. And, they let me first base coach!
I was home for a week after the Tiffany Tour, then I left again.
This time I traveled to Nebraska City, that's in Nebraska. I was there for the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America Campus Ministry Staff Gathering.
I have to tell you, I was STRESSED about leaving for this trip. Many of you know, I'm not the type who stresses out easily. I was stressed about making sure my work was done before I left. I was stressed about working on seminary assignments while I was home. I was stressed about not checking a bag and only bringing a carry-on. I was stressed about going to a conference where I wouldn't know many people.
When have I ever been stressed about having the opportunity to meet new people?
I used to thrive on that sort of thing.
But, since the accident, since I lost my better half, I've found myself struggling with this on occasion.
(Side story that coincides with the bigger story I'm trying to tell: I became self aware about this struggle a couple of months ago. I went to visit my friends Kate and Matt in Springfield, OH. While I was there, I got to meet some super rad people and I had an awesome time. It wasn't until I was driving home from that trip that I had realized that it was the first time since the accident that I had really met new people. Like, actually met and hung out with new people. That trip really helped me realize that even though part of me had died, there's still a lot of me left. There's still enough of me left to maintain my identity, there's still enough of me worth meeting. I've never had a low feeling of self worth, it's just that I was an only child and I've always felt a need for people to like me. Visiting Kate and Matt, meeting new people, and making new friends really restored a lot of me for me. But, it's still a struggle. Now, back to the story I was trying to tell...)
I was stressed about going to Nebraska. But, I knew that I just needed to get to Nebraska. I knew that if I could get to Nebraska I'd be fine.
I got to Nebraska.
I met super rad people.
I had an awesome time.
But, I knew that part of the difficulty of meeting new people was going to be that if I really got to know them I would have to share my story. The last six months are a pretty big part of my story.
When you meet new people, you never really know how to ruin the conversation by telling them that you're widowed.
But, just like when I met my new friends in Springfield, my new friends in Nebraska were cool about it.
One such interaction stands out in my mind.
In this blog, I've spoken about some of the awful things that people with the best intentions say to you in your time of loss.
This is not one of those occasions.
On the last night of the trip, I was hanging out with some folks I'd spent the better part of the week with and the conversation turned to some of my tattoos. So, naturally, I had to explain why I have my tattoo in memory of Tiffany. I hadn't shared Tiffany's death with the two guys I was talking to throughout the conference.
Naturally, caught off guard by what I had just told them. One of the guys just looked at me and said, "I love you, man."
In times of great loss, in times of deep grief, words fail us.
But, love never does...
Love never fails.
Grace, Peace, and Love to you all,
Robert
P.S. I guess I should share that I had another dream. But, not the same kind of dream. This was an in-betweener. This one was too telling to be just an ordinary dream, but not nearly as strong as the dream/vision that inspired my tattoo.
I was staying with Brian and Rachel in Indy when I got back from Nebraska. I had a dream where Tiffany was riding in my new truck with me. Obviously, she never got to see my new truck. But, she knew I wanted a Ridgeline the whole time we were together.
We were in the truck, and she was happy. She was laughing and smiling. And, I remember thinking in the dream, "Tiffany must not have died in the accident." But, something wasn't all the way right. Tiffany wasn't all the way there. We weren't really interacting. But, I was just so happy to be with her and see her happy.
But, I couldn't find a place to park. Over and over again, I tried to park, and I couldn't.
Then I woke up. And, I remembered that she was gone.
But, I wasn't sad when I woke up. I was happy. The dream helped me realize that she's still with me, she just isn't all the way here. (Not nearly with me as much as I want her to be)
And, I know that wherever she is, she's happy.
I thank God that the veil can be so thin sometimes...
Very nice post, Robert. I'm so glad you are able to feel Tiffany with you. <3
ReplyDeleteBlessings and Peace from Springfield, OH. Missing you brother, come back already. PS San Fran takeover?
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