Happy Memories

One of the things I’ve been hearing a lot is that I “need to remember the good times.” Rather than thinking about the idea that he’s gone, which utterly destroys me. Thing is, I DO remember the good times, and love the memories… but when I think about them, the idea that there never will be any more is inescapable.

But, it seems like good advice. So without further ado, here’s a memory of one of the best days of my life with Ian.

He had recently started working with me, and our company often had informal happy-hour events where everyone was invited out to socialize. This was one of those evenings, a Friday. He and I joined the group, and both had a couple more drinks than would allow us to safely drive home when everyone else seemed to be leaving. So we went to a nearby pizza place for food. While we were there, somehow the subject of childhood books came up, and he discovered that I hadn’t ever read The Lorax, which was his favorite Dr. Suess book.

Ian would not let that stand. He searched out the text of the book on his phone and read it to me right there. Afterward, we had a long discussion of the meaning and social constructs, during which, I noticed that there were fireflies all over outside. I told him that I needed to go out and look at them, and went out. He joined me shortly thereafter.

I told him that I found fireflies utterly magical, because growing up in Utah, it’s too dry, and I’d never seen them until I went to college in Wisconsin. The look he gave me was full of complex emotions; bafflement, admiration, amusement, surprise, and something akin to love, though I wouldn’t necessarily go that far yet. We watched the fireflies for a while, then decided to go to his house.

Once there, we sang together for quite a while, then talked more, and he discovered that I’d never heard or seen Pink Floyd’s The Wall. At that point, it was close to 5am, and we were both exhausted, but he put in the movie and we laid down on his bed and started watching it. I remained conscious throughout, but definitely couldn’t keep my eyes open entirely. I was laying on my back so my head was raised on his arm/shoulder. He was on his side, and his other hand would occasionally poke me to keep me awake, or gently stroke my hair. Every once in a while, he would put his head right next to mine and softly say something like, “You’re asleep, aren’t you?” To which I would object. Once or twice, he softly kissed my head.

We fell asleep after the movie, and I remember waking the next morning and seeing dew on his bedroom window. The sun was golden, shining on our heads, and I knew I’d had a perfect night.

I will never forget it.

Do you have happy memories you can share about a loved one you’ve lost?

Written 8/21/2014