The Night Before

My 11-year old son told me that I should post some content about our "back story".  I wrote this chapter several days after Gordie died so that I would never forget our last night as a family.

The night before Gordie died was such a typical night for our family.  I came home to find Gordie, Nathan, and Wyatt in the backyard.  Wyatt was practicing swinging his teeny tiny golf club.  A few months after we moved into the Estate in 2011 Gordie had set up his own driving range.  He purchased the real mat you see at some driving ranges with the hole on each side for the plastic tube tee thing.  He even had the little tray that you see at many driving ranges to hold the balls.  Gordie had spent hours teaching Wyatt to put a golf ball on the plastic tube tee, line up his club, and swing.  Wyatt had a hell of a swing for a 1 year old.  Gordie was so proud of it; he loved having Wyatt show people his drive when they came over to visit.  The driving range was just not for Wyatt, Gordie spent hours out there hitting balls (with a smaller club, not a driver) trying to clear the fireplace that was across the lawn area. 

“Hi Guys!” I said as I came out the back door. 

“Mommy!” Wyatt yelled as he started running toward me.

Nathan and Gordie were playing catch on the lawn.  Nathan’s first day of baseball practice was in two days and this year Gordie was one of the Assistant Coaches.  Gordie wanted to get Nathan warmed up before Saturday’s practice.

“Hi Mommy” Nathan called and then turned to throw a ball into Gordie’s glove.

“Hey” Gordie called. 

I walked over to Gordie with Wyatt in my arms.

“I had kind of a tough day.   Do you mind if I do a quick three miles around the loop?”  I asked. 

The loop I was referring to was the 1/3 mile circle that went around the house and some of the grounds.  The same loop that Gordie used for his run the next day right before he died.

“Sure” Gordie said.  “Remember, I am going out with Chris, Rick, and Rob.  I don’t need to leave until 7pm, but I need to shower before”, he continued.

“OK, I’ll be quick so you have enough time to shower and get ready”.  I said.

“Take your time, I want to practice more with Nathan” Gordie said.

I brought Wyatt back to his driving range mat and he got back to work on his golf swing.   

The loop goes around the lawn where Wyatt was golfing, Gordie and Nathan were playing catch, and Ralphie, our dog, was exploring.  I ran around them ten times thinking it was a great night, I had a great family, and Gordie was a great Dad.  I remember during one particular lap slowing down as I ran past them just enjoying looking at my family.  It’s a snapshot that is now forever frozen in my mind.

I finished my 3 miles and walked over to the lawn.  Wyatt had moved on to playing in the rocks but Gordie and Nathan were still playing catch. 

“I’m done.  I can take the kids now so that you can get ready” I told Gordie. 

“Nathan, do you want to play some more?”  Gordie asked.

“Yes Daddy” Nathan said.

“OK. I am going to play more with Nathan.  Can you take Wyatt inside so that I don’t have to watch him?”  he asked.

“Sure, but don’t you have to get ready and leave at 7”?

“It’s OK.  It will only take me five minutes to shower and dress.  I really want to practice with Nathan as long as he wants to go”, he said.

Such a typical response.  Gordie always put his kids before himself.  Always. 

I went inside with Wyatt and started to get dinner ready for the boys and me.  At 6:55 I walked outside and called to Gordie

“Gordie, it’s 6:55.  Don’t you have to leave at 7?”  I asked.

“We’ll come inside in 10 minutes” Gordie called.  Nathan beamed.  He was having a great time with his Dad.

Ten minutes later Gordie and Nathan came in.  Gordie ran upstairs to get ready.  About six minutes later he ran back down, gave Wyatt a kiss on his head, and gave Nathan a high five.  “Night guys, I’ll see you in the morning” he said to the kids. 

“I won’t be home too late” he said to me.

“Have fun. Tell them all I said hi”, I replied

Gordie came home later that night in a really good mood.  He had a good time with his friends.  Shortly after he got home we went up to bed.  Gordie went into the boys’ room to check them before going to bed.  I went into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

Gordie was laying in bed reading when I crawled in.  Ralphie was snuggled right up to Gordie who was petting Ralphie as he read his book.  I made eye contact with Gordie and rolled my eyes. 

“You and that dog…” I said. 

He smiled and gave Ralphie a kiss on his head.    

We both read our books for a while and then turned out the lights.  The big house was silent. 

It seemed like such a typical night for our Family.  Only it wasn’t.  It was the last night for the family that I thought I would have the rest of my life.    

Opening Day

From a week after Gordie’s passing through the rest of March, it rained like hell.  To me, it seemed like the heavens were crying as much as I was about losing Gordie.  In our town, a rainy March means a postponement of Little League Opening Day.  Nathan plays in the same Little League in which several of Gordie’s family members played.  Gordie’s Dad had also been very involved in the league when Gordie’s younger brother played.  His Dad is actually in the League’s Hall of Fame.  After Gordie’s death, the League reached out to Gordie’s sister and asked if Nathan would throw the first pitch at the Opening Day ceremony. 

“Hey Bud.  The Little League called and they want you to throw the first pitch at Opening Day this year”, I told Nathan.

Nathan looked at me with his big brown eyes.

“But I don’t know how to pitch.  I’m only six”, he said.

I could not help but smile.

“Well, everyone will know that you are young.  They are not expecting you to pitch like a big kid.  Just throw the ball to whomever is catching at home plate”, I said.

He sat there looking at me for a minute.  I could tell he was thinking.

“OK.  I’ll do it” he answered.

Opening Day was postponed several times due to the rain.  But in April, the rains went away and Opening Day was on. 

The morning of Opening Day I got Nathan dressed in his Orioles uniform.  My Dad took him outside to throw the ball to warm up before we left for the ceremony.  We drove to the field, which is located at the same middle school I attended so many years ago.  I took Nathan to find his team.  Once we found his team, I bent down in front of him.

“Good luck Bud.  You will do great”, I said.  I gave him a little tap on the brim of his baseball cap.

“OK Mom.  I’ll see you later.” He turned and started playing with his teammates.

I carried Wyatt over to the main field and found Gordie’s family.  They introduced me to the woman on the Board who was the organizer.

“I am very sorry about your Husband”, she said.

“Thank you.  I appreciate it.”, I answered.

“You can stand right here on the field and watch your son.  He will run out with his team and then his Coach will bring him to the Pitcher’s mound where he will be introduced and then throw the first pitch” she explained. 

“OK.  Thank you”. 

Gordie’s family and I walked on to the field next to the dugout.  We watched the teams run on to the field and watched the ceremonial running of the bases by the T-Ball teams. 

Then the ceremony started.  They started with a lot of recognition and thank you’s .  I honestly was only half listening.  I was still in my widow's daze most of the time.   After a while, I saw Nathan’s team walk to the center of the infield.  And then Nathan and another boy, who would catch the first pitch, were called forward and introduced.  The woman on the Board was doing the announcing.  She had emailed me a a few days earlier and asked for some things that she could say about Gordie.  I told her about how the night before he died, he was playing catch with Nathan and was late to a guy’s night out because Nathan kept asking him to play a little longer.

“That was just so Gordie.  He lived for his kids.  He was really excited about going out with his friends, something he rarely did, but he always, always put his kids first.  So he kept playing catch with Nathan and was late to his dinner”, I told her in my email.

The Board Member introduced Nathan and then told this story on the microphone.  She finished by saying “the following day, his Dad died.”  I heard the gasp of the crowd.  I looked at Nathan.  He looked down at his feet.

From behind me, I heard a kid in the dugout say to another kid “I heard that kid’s dad died in a pool.” 

I closed my eyes behind my dark sunglasses. 

This will always be part of our identity, I thought, the wife and children of the guy who died in the pool. 

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow Nathan, Wyatt and me. 

They then set up for the first pitch, gave Nathan a ball and he threw it to the Catcher.  It was a great throw and the Catcher caught it. 

The clapping of the audience was thunderous.  I smiled.  I looked at Nathan's face and he was smiling too.  

After the ceremony, I collected Nathan from his team.  His coach, who had been so great to us over the weeks, said “Nathan, that was a great pitch.  Good job.” 

I gave Nathan a high five. 

“Outstanding Bud.  Daddy was looking down from Heaven and was so proud”, I said quietly.

As we were driving home I asked him “how was it?” 

“It was pretty cool.  I just wish my Dad did not have to die so that I got to throw a first pitch”, he said. 

Ouch, I thought.

Years later, Nathan became a pitcher.  

Vroom Vroom

In late March, just weeks after Gordie died, I got my first taste of what it would be like to be a solo Mom of boys.  Nathan was in a Cub Scouts den and his Pinewood Derby race was just a few weeks following Gordie’s death.  We had purchased the car making kit over a month ago and it was sitting on Gordie’s desk.  One of my friends found it when they were cleaning out the Estate and moving us to my parents’ house.  A few days after the funeral, Gordie’s best friend, Chris, called me.

“Hi Stace.  Suzi said that Nathan’s Pinewood derby is in just a couple of weeks and that he needs to make the car.  I’d love to help him.  Is that OK?”

I nearly cried with relief.  Not only had I forgotten about the race but I am also the least handy person on the planet.  I had no clue how to build a car. 

We went over to Chris and Suzi’s house for pizza a few nights later.  Chris took Nathan into a different room to work on the design of the car.  Wyatt played with Chris and Suzi’s three kids.  I stayed in the kitchen to talk to Suzi about my new fucked up life.  She made all the right appropriate jokes and I laughed which felt really good. 

As we drove away that night, Nathan was full of excitement in the backseat of my car.  He told me what he and Chris had decided for the design of the car.

A few nights later we returned to Chris’ house so that he and Nathan could paint the car.  Chris had spent god knows how many hours between our two visits working on the car.  It was just yet another thing that he and Suzi would do for us for years to come.  

On our third visit, Nathan and Chris finished the car.  When I saw the finished car, a tear rolled down my face.  It was painted forest green, the color of the De La Salle Spartans, Gordie’s high school alma mater.  It had a Spartans helmet logo and an Oakland Raiders logo.  On one side of the car it said Spartants in silver lettering and on the other side, it said Raiders in the same silver lettering.  Gordie’s two most favorite football teams:  the De La Salle Spartans and the Oakland Raiders.

There was also a racing number on the car:  26.  Chris told Nathan it was their family’s lucky number.

Boy could we use some luck, I thought.

Nathan loved the car.  He carried it gently in a shoe box on the way home. 

The race was later that week.  Chris came to help Nathan during the race.  Suzi and their kids sat with Wyatt and I in the bleachers to cheer them on.  They did not win but it was a winning night for all of us.  Nathan was so proud of his car and was so happy to be able to do the derby even though his Dad was not there.

 I sat on the edge of his bed after I tucked him in that night.

“How was tonight Bud?” I asked.

“It was good.  I wish my Dad was there but Mr Chris was so nice to help me.  And I bet my car would have looked the same if Daddy were here.” he said.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Because Mr Chris and Daddy were best friends.  I bet Mr Chris knew exactly how Daddy would have done it.” he answered.

“Ohhhhh.  I bet you are right.”  I said.

“Will Mr Chris and Daddy’s other friends help me with all of my stuff?” Nathan asked.

He was articulating one of my biggest fears.  Who was going to help my sons with the stuff that Dads do best? 

I thought carefully before I replied.

“Everyone has their own lives Bud and we have to respect that.  But when we really need some help, yes, Daddy’s friends will be there for us.” I explained.

“OK”, Nathan replied and then yawned.

“Congrats on your race tonight Nath.  Get some sleep.” I whispered.

I kissed Wyatt who was lying in his pack n play listening. 

“Good night little Bubs” I said.   He smiled at me through his pacifier. 

I shut the door to their room and walked into the bathroom across the hall.  I examined myself in the mirror.  I looked like shit.  I looked tired.  My eyes had huge dark circles under them.  My hair was in a messy ponytail.  I peered closer in the mirror.  I also looked scared. 

How was I going to raise boys on my own?  I silently asked my image in the mirror.

Five Years Later...

Five years later, I can’t believe he’s been gone only five years.  It seems like forever since I heard his voice.

Five years later, I can’t believe it’s been five years.  It seems like just yesterday that I woke up to this nightmare. 

Five years later, I miss him as much as I did the first morning after. 

Five years later, I know that when I told him I could not live without him, I was wrong.  I can. 

Five years later, I would give every dime I have if he could join the boys and me for dinner just one more time. 

Five years later, I still know when he’s here. 

Five years later, he’s selective on when he visits us.  He knows our lives have moved forward. 

Five years later, my sons are happy most of the time.

Five years later my 11 year old’s greatest wish is to have his Dad back to warm up with before a game. 

Five years later, my 7 year old’s greatest wish is to know what it’s like to have a Dad.

Five years later, I still have his dog, who is 16, and who I know he wants back. 

Five years later, I still have his black NorthFace vest in my closet. 

Five years later, his watch still goes off at 7am every morning from inside the drawer of my bed stand.  I like to think he’s saying Good Morning.

Five years later, I can still feel his hand on the back of my neck.

Five years later, I am in a relationship with someone else and there are times I feel that he was handpicked by him. 

Five years later, the stuff that was important to me before, no longer is.

Five years later, our house finally feels like a home. 

Five years later, it does not make me want to cry when I tell the hostess we need a table for three. 

Five years later, the pressure of being the only provider for the boys still keeps me up at night.

Five years later, I still worry.  A lot.

Five years later, I still love his Mom like my own. 

Five years later, the boys and I have a lot of fun. 

Five years later, I know how lucky I am to have married someone who made me sleepless the first night I met him and who never stopped being my best friend.

Five years later, I still have a lot of pictures of him around our house but I keep the ones of just the two of us in a private place.

Five years later, I am still very angry and still use running to quiet the rage.

Five years later, I still sleep with a bat under my bed and pity anyone who puts me in a situation where I would need to use it.

Five years later, I still have the same incredible friends who support me.

Five years later, I have new friends in my life, some who never knew Gordie or the old me.

Five years later, I am a much better person.

Five years later, I have my edge back, after losing it the first year after he died.

Five years later, my sons are the strongest people I know. 

Five years later, I still could not do this without my parents who set the bar for parenthood.

Five years later, I don’t cry everyday anymore.

Five years later, the boys and I have learned how to live life without him.

Five years later, I watch my sons sleep and feel an emotion that I cannot put into words.

Five years later, I am still running through grief.

Pop Tarts and Starbursts

For the first several weeks after Gordie died, I left his beloved F-150 truck at the Estate.  The boys and I were living at my parents’ house and I did not really need a second car.  After a few weeks, I needed the truck to get some bigger items, like Nathan’s bike, from the Estate to my parents’ house.  So, I had my Dad drive me to the Estate one afternoon after work so that I could get some stuff and the truck. 

I brought the truck back to my parents’ house.  The boys were inside with Kansas, their Nanny. 

“Did you get Daddy’s truck?” Nathan asked.

“Yep”, I answered.

“Can we go for a ride in it?” Nathan asked.

My heart sank a little bit.  I knew that he was trying to find a way to be close to Gordie.

“Sure.  Now?  It actually needs gas.  We can go do that if you want”,  I said.

“OK” Nathan said. 

The boys said good-bye to Kansas.  I carried Wyatt out to the truck and strapped him in his carseat.  I helped Nathan climb up into the truck and into his booster seat. 

We drove down the street and headed out the neighborhood towards the town.  I looked around the truck.  It was disgusting.  There were sunflower seed shells all over the floor.

“This truck is a mess”, I said to the boys.

“Daddy liked it this way”, Nathan said.

“Did he actually eat sunflower seeds and spit the shells on the floor?” I asked.

Nathan started laughing.  “Yes”, he choked out between laughs.  Wyatt giggled.  It was so damn good to hear them laugh.  

“Disgusting”, I said.

“Can we have a Pop Tart?”  Nathan asked.

“What?” I asked in confusion. 

“Can we have a Pop Tart?”  Nathan asked again.

“Um, are you asking me to go to the store and get Pop Tarts?”  I asked still confused.

“No”, said Nathan, “there are Pop Tarts in there”.  He pointed to the center console.

I popped open the lid of the center console and took a peek inside while still driving down the road.  Sure enough there was a box of Pop Tarts. 

“What are these doing in here?” I asked.

“Daddy would give them to us when we were doing errands” Nathan said.

Good grief, I thought.  Really Gordie?  A stash of Pop Tarts?  Gordie knew I thought Pop Tarts were total crap.  My friend Brenda worked for Kellogg’s and would sometimes smuggle Pop Tarts to Gordie and Nathan when she visited. 

“There are Starbursts in there too”, Nathan said.

You are kidding! I thought

I moved the box of Pop Tarts to the side and sure enough, there was a big bag of Starbursts.  It was like Gordie had a 7/11 store in his center console. 

I looked in the rear view mirror at Nathan.  He was smiling. 

“Daddy let us have the stuff you did not let us have”, Nathan said through laughter.

Uh yeah, I thought, and he hid it in his truck.  I started laughing.

What the hell?, I thought and handed them each a Pop Tart.  They grabbed them eagerly and started eating them.  I glanced back at Wyatt.  His little hands were holding the Pop Tart up to his mouth so that he could lick the icing.   

I pulled into the gas station and filled up the truck.  When I jumped back in the truck, the boys were still happily eating their Pop Tarts.

As we drove home, the only sound I could hear was the crunching of Pop Tarts.  I looked in the rear view mirror again.   They both looked so happy.  Who knew that a ride in an F-150 truck and eating Pop Tarts could put such happy smiles on my grieving sons’ faces? 

They finished their Pop Tarts just I entered my parents’ neighborhood.

“Can we have a Starburst now?” Nathan asked.

“Don’t push it”, I said.

Nathan laughed.  Wyatt giggled.