Portends and Omens, Last Things and Unfinished Business

I'm not saying I believe in this sort of thing and I'm not saying I don't. I'm just saying sometimes coincidences take on a personal meaning that can't be ignored. When a trauma strikes--and they do strike and strike hard--sometimes the otherwise unrelated events leading up to them at least seem to have happened as a warning, as a chance to prepare. And it doesn't matter if you believe it or not; I'm just putting them out there to give you something to think about. At the very least, it might help you understand how my grief works on me and maybe give you some insight to your own.

The Tee Shirt
This year for Christmas, Toni and I got each other matching tee shirts (and a coffee mug for her) that said, "In My Darkest Hour I Reached For A Hand And Found A Paw." I'm not sure how she found them (she was always looking up dog things on the internet), but we both loved the quote so much, getting them was a no-brainer. Each of us at different times and for different reasons had found it to be too true.

So when the day came for us to go to the emergency room, Toni decided that was the shirt she wanted to wear. I don't know why. And it isn't like she was insistent about it. It only took on a special meaning for me after the fact. I cannot say she planned on wearing it knowing she was going to die that day. I don't think she was planning on that at all.

At any rate, that was what she was wearing when the ambulance whisked her away. The next time I saw her she was in a hospital gown. Her clothes had been put in a plastic bag, and I didn't give it another thought. Until a couple of days later when I opened the bag of clothes and realized that her shirt and bra weren't in there. Of course. It's SOP in an ER when a patient comes in with cardiac and respiratory failure to cut the clothes off a person: time is everything and you can't waste it by carefully undressing someone.

I got over it. And I still have mine, which has taken a new and deeper meaning unto itself.

The License Plate
Every year, sister Patty sends us a Christmas package loaded with all kinds of goodies, some fun, some practical and some just plain touching. She's always been thoughtful like that. We have also tried to do the same for her. (Gifts for Patty usually have a Wizard of Oz or Star Trek theme.) This year among the goodies was a Personalized License Plate which made Toni sob uncontrollably. Toni was a sentimental person and some sentiments just went waaaay deep in her heart.

The plate had the names of our four boys that were no longer with us on the one side against a fluffy cloud, blue sky background, and the four that were still with us on the other. Why this particular gift, this particular year? Well, here we are just a few months later, and on our mantle I have Toni's memorial candle in front of that plate, neatly and evenly separating the living from the dead. How could Pat have known, that Toni's death would fall right in the middle? 

The Black Cat
On the last day I would take Toni to work the week before she got sick, an unsettling thing happened. For a year or two now I had been tracking the progress of a neighborhood cat. By progress, I mean avoiding getting killed on the gravel hauler racetrack known as Martinsville Road. The cat was young, not fully grown when I had first noticed her/him. And every time I saw the cat running from one side of the road to the other I was happy it was still alive. And ever more fearful for its future.

When I dropped Toni off in the mornings, it was always very early and dark. I needed to get to my job by 7:30 and it was just under an hour round trip to make that happen. We'd get to her job--on a good day (not often enough to suit her, btw)--sometime before 6:30, so that she could either nap or play solitaire on her iPhone or both. Anyway, on that morning as we were snailing our way up the quarter mile to Judd Road over the pothole infested dirt road we live on, I saw something black in the headlights in the middle of the road. My heart sank a little bit, but it might just be debris. We had been having all kinds of wind storms. As we got closer, I saw the two tell-tale yellow eyes looking at me. The cat had been hit. Very recently. And creepily the eyes were still open and looking at me, bright as anything. I carefully drove around it and went on my way. We rode in silence the rest of the way in. The image bothered me all day at work.

As would sometimes happen, I was let off early from work that day and I rushed home. I could only think about that cat and what kind of bloody mess would greet me as I turned down Martinsville after the cat had flattened by repeated hits by the truckers. I was amazed to find the cat exactly as I had last seen it, the only difference being the road dust had now covered its eyes. I stopped the car, got out and moved the cat off the side of the road to prevent any future horror. Rigor had fully set in by now so it was easy to do. And I somehow felt better. I went home and waited until it was time to go get Toni.

On the way home that night, Toni said, "That cat really disturbed me." I had no idea it had bothered her that much. I thought I was being silly, but now I felt vindicated. I told her I had moved it and she scolded me for touching a dead animal, and I countered that it was freshly dead and I washed my hands real good when I got home.

Of course we all know that black cats crossing our path is bad luck. Having one die IN your path is worse. In just over a week, my Toni would be gone. The story isn't all sad though. During the week Toni was sick, I saw another black cat at least twice in the same vicinity. A litter mate? So it turns out I may have been tracking two cats all along and the other one is still out there. I hope that one has better luck.

The Jigsaw Puzzle
The last jigsaw puzzle Toni and I were working on is still in the living room waiting for me to finish. And I will. Someday but not just yet. It's an old-timey scene of the inside of a general store. And it was a lot of fun to work on. (Not all puzzles are....) Here's what makes just a little strange.

As I have been going through the thousands of pictures I could either scan or that were on my laptop, Toni's PC, her old laptop, her iPhone, and her (new) camera, I came across one of the last puzzle's box cover. Now, Toni was excited about her new camera and was taking pictures of everything. Mostly of the dogs, but other things too. And I found a couple of pictures of a previous puzzle. Maybe she was going to start documenting our puzzle adventures? Or maybe she just liked the puzzles enough to immortalize them. I'll never know; I didn't get the chance to ask her. Whatever the case, once I do finish it and put it up, I will have a permanent reminder of what we were up to when she left. Almost like she knew I would like that.

The TV Shows
Over the years, besides our love of movies, we had a host of TV shows that were must-see every week. Shows would come and shows would go, and reruns would work for some but not for others. But we would always find new ones to take their place. This year however, saw the end of more of our shows than ever before, to the point we were actually and actively discussing what to do about it. American Horror Story, Bates Motel, Bones, Castle, Grimm, Salem, Teen Wolf and The Vampire Diaries all ended or were ending soon. I still have recordings of most of them to watch. Again, someday but not yet. Out of that list, Toni only saw the last episodes of American Horror Story and The Vampire Diaries. I'm glad see got to see the Vampire Diaries because Damon was her favorite eye-candy of all time. No one else ever came close. Except maybe Clark Gable and she did get to see Gone With The Wind one last time the week she was off work. (I secretly recorded it for her, even though we have it on VHS...hmmm, how did I know?)

Some of "our" shows are still on. I don't know how I feel about them. I have a backlog of The Walking Dead. We have all kinds of Walking Dead stuff. PJ pants for me, a tee shirt and blanket for her, matching coffee mugs, artwork and more. We were going to have a Walking Dead party for two with all our stuff; don't know what to do about that either.

Last year Prince and George Michael died, two of her all time favorites. At least Donny Osmond is still alive.

The LSA Building Trees
The LSA Building where Toni had spent most of her waking hours for the last 40 years is going to be getting an addition. To make room for this, a good number of trees would need to be taken down. Some of these trees had been there since before Toni started to work there. Toni was very saddened by this. It was a personal loss to her. She didn't think she would feel the same about the place. She was not looking forward to going back to work and not seeing them there. As it turned out, she never lived to see it. Part of me is glad for her. Her memory of her workplace was intact, if short-lived. As I said, she was a sentimental gal, and it may well have hurt her deeply to see her beloved trees gone. Knowing it was going to happen seemed hard enough. I feel sad for the people who have had to go back. 

There were still so many things we had planned to do. Now I have to come up with new plans. I still plan on doing some of the things we were going to do. I don't know how much fun it will be. Some things I will do because they need to be done, mostly things around the house. Some things I will do because I want to do...for her, for her memory, in her name. Whatever I do, it will be part of the new plan. Because in spite of all these subtle warnings, I didn't plan for this. I didn't plan to be on my own. I didn't plan for her to die. But I suspect, even if all of these things had made clear to me that Toni was going to leave me here at this point, I would not have been prepared. I just hope I learned enough from her to make the best of things. That's what she always did. That's what she would expect of me.

But I don't have to like it.