The Widower’s Rant: Row, Row, Row

Dec 18, 2024

6 min read

The Beatings Will Continue Until Morale Improves

Grief Tour 2024 took me back to Geyserville to see Beth’s Sister and Brother-in-Law, D&M. This was our first time together since Beth died. They are two of a small handful of people who have known Beth longer than me. I can’t imagine what it’s like to suddenly not have a sister who was always there for over 61 years. On the flip side, Beth has been a daily presence in my life for the past 41 years, and the inverse for D. Grief is not a competition. It must be as surreal for her as it is for me.

I’ve known D&M for almost as long as I’ve known Beth. They are more family to me than anyone other than my children. During my 5th year at Davis, I drove to Newport Beach to see Beth almost every weekend or two. One long weekend, we flew to Hawaii on a standby ticket her father gave us. I parked my shiny black BMW (If I sound like a spoiled child, trust your instincts) at D&M’s house in Mission Viejo. The same car from our first date and ski area accident, now with a new hood and bumper. When we returned, they told me that my car alarm (yes, the 80s) went off all the time next to their condo while we were gone. Somehow, they still liked me. Advance the clock 30 years and I was commuting between Irvine and Petaluma for a new job. I stayed with D&M every week for almost six months while Beth and I made sure it was a job worth uprooting our family into a new home (it was). By about three months in, I’m sure I smelled like old fish. By five months, it's probably more like Amorphophallus titanum. Somehow, they still liked me.

In that fifth year of college, D&M married in a shady park in Santa Barbara. Beth and I went. I remember the white and lavender dress she wore. Against her tan skin, she glowed. Beth’s mom offered to put us up in a hotel. I remember her asking us if it was silly for her to book two rooms. I remember looking down at my shoes while hearing Beth affirm to her mother that one room would be fine. Awkward! M’s father was the officiant at our wedding. I’m more integrated into Beth’s family than my own. Beth was the tether to the family I chose. I lost Beth, and for a moment, I feared losing them, too. Fortunately, the opposite has been true. I am more grateful than ever to have Beth’s Father, Sister, and Brother-in-Law in my life. I love them.

On a sunny Tuesday, I rode my bike up high above the lake.

Two days later, on Thursday, then again on Friday morning, I skied for a few hours.

I am living the dream. This is why Beth and I purchased our home in Tahoe. After hanging my skis in the garage, I buttoned up the house and drove down the hill to Geyserville.

During my week in Geyserville, my other mission was to finalize the house so it would be ready to rent. When I arrived, the house was cold as a vacant property should be. It stayed cold after I reset the thermostats. The heater stopped working. Great. Just Great. Brrrr. Fortunately, I had a small space heater, which worked to keep my bedroom survivable. In an unsubtle irony, my garage wine chiller was running a little warm. I saw this a few days before in my remote temperature monitor app and hoped it was an anomaly. Nope. No such luck. Queue foreshadowing music.

My luck looked to improve as the HVAC guy came on a Saturday and fixed it. The warming house improved my outlook, and a delicious lunch and dinner with D&M reminded me why I so love Sonoma County. The food and grocery are exceptional. The next day, we took an excursion together to Mendocino. We enjoyed a leisurely wine tasting in beautiful gardens, then a picnic lunch with a bottle of vintage sparkling and another breathtaking view. Our host noticed our winery name on my credit card. He asked, “I’ve heard of Soliste; it’s an under-the-radar fine dining winery, right?” Yes. “Do you know Lambert Bridge?” Yes. He continued, “I thought D&M looked familiar. I was your host at G Winery when you were here two years ago. I remember Beth, and she was so nice to me.” I smiled, paused, exhaled, and heard my disembodied voice say, “I’m sad to tell you that Beth died recently.” Owie. Owie. Owie.

As we drove back from Mendo to Geyserville past vineyards, fields, and forests, my before life flooded my memories, and tears flooded my eyes. The restaurants and wonderful food. The impromptu tastings and parties at wineries. Going to Healdsburg to see the Prune Packers at the prettiest ballpark in the country (with a Thermos of our Rosé) and to watch the 4th of July Kiddie Parade around the town square. Great friends and great memories. All gone. Once again, I found myself in the back seat of a car, suppressing the crying as tears streamed down my fat cheeks like the Russian River past our home in the Alexander Valley.

After two days of actual work at an offsite meeting with one of my portfolio companies, I returned to Geyserville and a cold house. The heater stopped working again. Again, the HVAC tech came, but this time said it appeared terminal. Loved ones die. 20 year old HVAC equipment dies. Why do people and things stop working? I’m weary of death.

The last two tasks on my punch list (unsurprisingly, on a spreadsheet) to prepare the house for occupancy were a lock for my office door and a lock for the inside wine cellar. One package never shipped. The other one was re-routed up to Lake Tahoe. My holiday cards were delivered on a snowy, wet day, to sit on a wet driveway, despite the vacation hold. I didn’t know anyone in town to call to move them inside, away from the wet. Away from the cold. I took Scooby (the Audi) to our local shop for an oil change and inspection for the Tahoe winter. She’s leaking a bit of oil. The cost of repair will rival the value of my favorite car. The owner of the HVAC company came by on Saturday to tell me that replacing the combo Furnace/AC would not be easy. That’s contractor-speak for “really expensive.” The hits keep coming. I’m against the ropes, away from my corner. Alone.

Intellectually, I know and remind myself that these are just things that a bit of money and short-term trials will resolve. I prefer not to spend the money fixing. I’d rather spend it on fun. Beth was all about fun, and I'm trying my best to focus on fun. But I can fix these things, and I’m beyond fortunate that my lifestyle will not noticeably suffer. I’m unluckily lucky. Emotionally, though, it takes a toll on a weaker version of myself.

Mercifully, it was time to return to my home by the lake in the mountains. On Sunday morning, I laundered all the linens, packed up Scooby, and buttoned up my cold home for an uncertain future. As the morning wore on, my emotions bubbled over and over. This was our happy place. A place where we might grow old together. We were supposed to grow old together. We were supposed to grow old together.

We Were Supposed to Grow Old Together.

Instead, I’m replacing a furnace in a house we don’t live in anymore. A house I genuinely love. A house that, with every glance, reminds me of a life forever changed. An unwanted life. But my life. My life to live, to enjoy, and to grow. But damn, today, this week, hurt.

As I slowly drove away from our Home, I felt I was betraying the life we built together. Fleeing the scene of the crime, so to speak. We loved that Home. We loved being there, together. With D&M, our kids, our neighbors, and friends. The pizza parties in our welcoming backyard. Scrabble on the dining room table. The tractor parades. Navigating the Covid era together in our safe sanctuary among the vineyards. Admiring Geyser Peak from our kitchen. The doggies lounging in the sun on the farmhouse patio table I built from rough timber. We loved this Home. I still do. But everything that breaks chips away at my resilience. I’m nearly spent.

I’m now back at our Home by the mountain lake for a short spell before I embark on the final stop of Grief Tour 2024. I hope my resilience recharges. I’m sure it will. It must.

This week, I felt like a galley slave, shackled in the dark hull of a Roman ship. The rowing master announces, “I have good news and bad news. The good news is you all get the afternoon off. The bad news is the Captain wants to go water skiing this morning.”