Health by Heidi

  Yesterday marked the one-month anniversary.  One month without the love of my life.  One month without my One.  It seems surreal. Sleep only stayed at the party for one night.  I haven't seen her since.  Infinite Sadness and Disbelief billowed into the bedroom and awakened me at 3:00 am, smothering me in heavy darkness.  My eyes filled with tears.  One month. Earlier in the week, I had made plans with a good friend to hike yesterday.  His knowledge of the mountains here far exceeds anyone I know.  He knows all the good spots.  He promised to take me to his favorite secret trail that leads to a few high mountain lakes.  I agreed to the hike at the time.   Lying in bed, Infinite Sadness and Disbelief suffocating me with leaden fog, I wanted to cancel.  I couldn't imagine hiking all day.  I couldn't imagine getting out of bed.  Tears became rivers flowing down my cheeks.   I grabbed my phone, t...

  I had officially moved in with Scott.  We lived in a blue house on the edge of town, just off the highway.  There were a few other houses up past ours, and the driveway to those houses ran along the edge of our yard.  Our bedroom, along with the front door of the house, also faced this same driveway. One summer night, around midnight, I woke up to lights blazing in my face.  I was disoriented as I tried to shake the sleep from my head.  Scott was already awake, sitting up in bed, looking out the window.  As full consciousness slowly cleared the fog, I realized the lights were coming from outside.   "What's going on?" I asked groggily. Scott shook his head.  "Not sure." We heard two car doors open, then slam shut as a man and a woman got out of the car in mid-argument.  They were using all the colorful language, accusing each other of awful things as they flung insults at each other like cow pies, hoping one would stick.  Thei...

  They are inevitable.  They come whether you are ready or not.  The firsts.  The markers.  The milestones.  Some show up without warning.  Others are planned.  None of them is easy.  I have had a month full of firsts, markers, and milestones, none of which I thought I would have to deal with for 30 more years.  But here I am.   I spread some ashes last weekend.  The ashes of my One.  It felt impossible.  The act of spreading the ashes felt impossible, and the fact of what I was doing felt impossible.  I kept waiting for the punchline, but there was none. I washed the sheets on Sunday, for the first time since THAT DAY.  Scott had been in my head for over a week.  Wash the sheets.  Love, wash the sheets.  They are gross.  Wash them.  WASH THE SHEETS!   I finally listened.  It was time.  It was almost as hard as spreading the ashes.  I cried.  I could fee...

  Scott and I had been dating for about a month and a half.  I lived in my house, and he lived in his house, with 50 miles separating the two.  One evening, Scott had driven to my house for dinner.  We had finished eating and were standing at the sink doing dishes, when he turned and looked at me. "I don't want to spend another night away from you," he said.   I smiled at him, gave him a hug, and we went back to doing dishes.  I learned quickly that Scott said what he meant and meant what he said.  After that night, we spent every night together for years.   Because his work schedule was more flexible (he was self-employed at the time, and I was not), we decided he would stay at my house Monday through Thursday nights.  On Friday after work, I would drive to his house and spend the weekend there.  I had a smaller car at the time, so I didn't mind driving back and forth.  Scott had a big work truck that got terrible gas mil...

  It was August, several years ago, and the county fair was in full swing.  Scott and I decided we wanted to go check it out.  I remembered always loving amusement parks and rollercoasters and all the twirly rides, and thought the rides at the fair would be fun.  We discussed it further and decided to make the evening into a date night.  First, we would have dinner, then go walk around the fair, then ride some rides.  It sounded great. Evening came, we drove to the restaurant, and enjoyed a lovely Italian dinner, complete with bread, salad, pasta, dessert, and wine.  It was all delicious, and Scott and I left the restaurant full and happy.  To the fair we went.   We purchased several tickets for the rides, then walked around for a while, seeing the sights, and watching the people milling around.  We played a few silly games.  We laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.   "Let's do a ride," I said.   Scott no...

 I heard a noise at the front door.  It was quiet, hard to hear above the riot of the party-goers.  I went to the door, opened it, and looked around.  I saw nothing.  I shrugged, closed the door, and that's when I felt it.  Something started to coil around my legs, slowly circling up and up, around my torso, squeezing.  It found the battered remnants of my heart, wrapped itself around, and squeezed with all its might.  What was happening to me?   I was familiar with a few of the other party guests.  I knew Sadness, Disbelief, Confusion, Rage.  I knew them as milder forms of themselves, and in much different circumstances, but this new guest was strange.  I didn't know what to make of her.  Then I heard her whisper to me, I am Loneliness. I didn't know Loneliness.  I had never met her until now.  Infinite Sadness, close friends with Loneliness, saw her slither through the door and ran over to greet her. ...

 Scott was an amazing person in every way.  He did have one downfall, though.  Perhaps curse would be a better word.  He had a curse, and it was this: if ever there was a foreign object in food, that food would find its way onto Scott's plate.  Always.  Every time.   I lost track of the times he found hair in his food in restaurants.  The most recent occurrence was when we were in Missoula.  We were having dinner at a nicer restaurant there, which shall remain anonymous.  We had each received our entrees and were happily dining away when I noticed Scott's face change.  He went from pleased to disgusted.  I saw him look down at his meal, reach into the sauce, and pull out a very long, very dark, very curly strand of hair.  He held it up for all to see, then dropped it on the floor and pushed his food away.  The waitress immediately came over and apologized profusely, comped us the dinner, and offered to make a mea...

 Scott loved animals, and animals loved Scott.  They flocked to him.  Cats, dogs, chickens, cows, sheep, you name it.  They all loved Scott. Every morning when we would go for our dog walk on the ranch behind our house, we would inevitably run into the herd of cattle.  The cows and calves would scatter as we approached.  Scott would always stop, murmur to them, and before long, he would have a small cluster gathered around him, seeking head scratches.  The barn cat that lives on the ranch would come running every time she saw Scott striding up the road.  He would pick her up, give her lots of pets, and check her over for any mats.  If he found some mats, he would go back later with a pair of scissors and cut them out.  He also took her a heated cat house to sleep in during the winter. When we did our morning beach walks in Mexico, we would start out with just us and our two doggies.  As we walked, dogs from far and wide would join u...

  The morning of Saturday, August 2, I became the unwitting host of a terrible, bizarre, surreal after-party.  I didn't want anyone in my home, but the guests were relentless.  The first to arrive were Shock and his good friend Disbelief.  They crashed through the front door and swarmed me like a hive of bees, swirling around and around as their friend Confusion joined in.  I was powerless as the three of them crowded my personal space, choking me, making me gasp for air. In the chaos, Infinite Sadness and her sister Despair oozed in and draped themselves over me.  They were heavy and suffocating.  I sobbed, gasped, choked, and sobbed more.  I heard voices talking around me, but couldn't catch the words.  My five party guests blocked out everything but themselves.  They consumed me. For four long days and nights, the five guests hovered, smothering me, refusing to leave my side for even the briefest of moments.  My heart broke into ...

 I stared down from the rock, looking at the foaming mess of white water in front of me.  We were nearing the end of our first river trip down the Grand Canyon (the same trip as the impromptu wedding ceremony), and had stopped to scout Lava Falls.  Lava Falls is one of the most notorious rapids on the Colorado.  It's massive.  The waves and holes are big enough to flip a fully loaded, 18-foot raft like it's a bathtub toy.  Lava is rated a nine on the rapid rating scale (the Colorado River has a scale of one to ten, one being flat water and ten being unrunnable).  It comes toward the end of the trip, after two days of mostly flat water that lulls boaters into a false sense of security.  Lava is long and requires maneuvers mid-rapid to avoid giant boulders and boat-crushing holes.  It's a beast.   The group had pulled over above the rapid to scout it.  The rowers and kayakers were staring intently into the mess, nervously pointin...

 In June of this past year, Scott and I met up with Scott's sister, Kim, and her husband, Lyle, on the Oregon coast.  We were there to spread Scott and Kim's parents' ashes.  Their mom, Dee, passed away a few years ago, and their dad, Tom, has been gone for over twenty years.  They wanted their ashes spread together, and we assembled to fulfill their wish. Scott rented a boat for the four of us, plus Juno and Ernie, to go into the bay and up the big river.  It was a stunningly sunny day on the Oregon coast, and before we went about the task of spreading the ashes, Scott drove us around the bay.  We watched the seals on the beaches, grunting and yelling as they awkwardly slopped around each other.  Seagulls screeched in the sky as we puttered this way and that, the wind whipping off the ocean and occasionally soaking us with wayward spray.   Finally, Scott turned the boat up the river, and we slowly motored our way.  We reached a wide, sl...

  *For those of you who read my book, the following story will sound familiar.  The story in my book is based on this story. Scott and I were on yet another river trip, this time on the Main Salmon.  We were part of a group of 12 other boaters and had an amazing first few days on the water.  The morning of day three was cool and cloudy.  I was paddling an inflatable kayak, and Scott was in his cat boat.  There were other rafts and other kayakers.  It was a mixed bag of boaters.  We were all excited because on that day, we would reach the hot springs.   This particular hot spring on the Main is lovely.  Years ago, someone built a rock pool into the side of the mountain to collect the hot water that flowed out of the rocks.  A small cold-water creek cascades into the pool as well, so the water temperature in the rock pool is always perfect.  It is a welcome treat on a cool, cloudy day, and a nice way to rinse off the neopren...

  I study my reflection in the mirror.  My face stares back at me.  I look the same.  I lean forward, searching.  I must look different.  Somehow, my outward appearance must reflect the internal hurricane that is now my existence. I lean closer to the mirror.  I see sadness in my eyes, deep fatigue around the edges.  Is that it?  There should be more.  I should look DIFFERENT.  My forehead should have a stamp on it, “WIDOW.” I am in the Good Food Store.  I finish filling my jar with peanut butter when I feel the sadness rising, climbing the staircase inside me.  I look around, searching for a place to go where no one can see me. It’s almost noon on Friday, and the store is packed.  The sadness keeps rising, higher and higher.  I feel my throat constrict and tears flood my eyes.  I walk quickly down the protein bar aisle, but there is nowhere to go.  The sadness erupts. I bury my face in my hands and wee...

  We had floated the Colorado River.  We had gotten married.  Then we got an invite to float the Selway.  Once again, Scott was thrilled.  The Selway was his favorite place on the planet, and he had never floated the river before.  Like the Colorado, it is ridiculously hard to secure a Selway River permit.  One of our friends got one, and we got an invite.   The Selway River is about as opposite from the Colorado River as two rivers can be.  The Selway River is narrow, rocky, and technical.  The Colorado is massive, wide open, and has giant rapids.  The Selway Canyon is heavy forest, with cedars, pines, and hemlock.  The Grand Canyon is desert, with towering cliffs on either side of the river reaching hundreds of feet into the air.  These two trips were like Bali and Montana: polar opposites.   The first few days of the trip were amazing.  I loved floating through the forest.  The Selway has always felt like...

  It was Friday, June 13, 2008.  The day before our official wedding ceremony.  It had snowed the day before, but the sun shone brightly on Friday.  We had planned a small ceremony in our backyard, by the creek.  The few friends and family we had invited from out of town were starting to arrive.  Scott, along with his two best men, and I, along with my maid of honor and brother of honor, and my aunt and uncle, all went for a hike on one of our favorite trails that morning.  We laughed, told stories, and soaked in the mountain scenery.  It was a stunning start to the day. After the hike, we went back to our house and had lunch, did some chores in preparation for the big day, then had to go to Hamilton to pick up the tables and chairs.  One of Scott's best men, Fisher, decided to tag along with us to help load everything.  Scott hooked up one of his trailers and off we went.   We were nearly to Hamilton when Scott said, "Uh-oh." ...

 In late August 2007, Scott suggested we go on a river trip.  I had gone white-water rafting before, but never done a multi-day trip or gone on a trip without a guide.  Scott, on the other hand, was fluent in River.  He was a white-water rafting guide for several years, and raced on a downriver paddle boat team that ran class five rapids.  He loved being on the river.  He read the water better than anyone I have ever met, and he made hard moves look easy.  There was a standing rule on every trip: Don't follow Scott.  He took crazy runs through rapids and made it look effortless.  When others tried to follow his line, they either had to row like madmen to get through or they got in trouble. There were 12 of us going on this trip.  Regulations require that river trips be pack-it-in, pack-it-out.  That includes all food, trash, and human waste.  In other words, we poop in a bucket and pack it out. The trip was amazing, and from th...

  Eleven days.  Eleven days since my world fell to pieces.  I feel like I've been in some sort of bizarre time warp.  The days pass without me noticing.  Am I dreaming?  This can't be real. 1) How are you doing? I don't know how to answer this question anymore.  Do I give the cursory "fine" or "good?"  Do I unload everything?  Something in between?  I am not fine, nor good, nor okay.  Okay feels millions of miles away.  I went to the post office today and had to pick up a package.  I stood in the office and waited while the woman in front of me chatted with Kathy behind the counter.  They laughed and made small talk while Kathy did the transaction, then exchanged "Have a nice day" salutations.  I watched in awe.  How can they act as if nothing has happened, as if nothing has changed, when EVERYTHING has changed?  Anger filled my bones.  How dare they?  How dare they be happy?  How dare th...