A Letter for Mother’s Day (and just because)

Teresa,

I’m breaking with tradition on the annual letter to you on our anniversary as there has been a lot that has happened since and a lot that I have wanted to share with you.

There aren’t many happenings in life that a part of me doesn’t search for you to tell you my “news” or share with you what the kids and I did and/or experienced and it feels like these moments have been plentiful as of late, none more pressing to relate to you than an update on the coffee shop I was searching for in Vernonia which I relayed to you in my last letter.

It turns out the coffee shop/roaster that I thought I had found in somebody’s house was not the roaster I was looking for. Instead, it was a place that I parked right next to later on and decided to not go into as I wondered, “How good the coffee be at an art gallery anyway?” Apparently pretty good and I truly appreciate the irony of having discovered all of this after I ordered coffee form the roasters that I thought I had been looking for. If I learned nothing else from this experience it’s that I will most likely do something like this several more times in my life and next time I’m in Vernonia on the Salmon Days celebration I will remember to bring cash so as to not miss out on the raffling of various weapons of mass destruction.

While I have been licking my Vernonia-related wounds, Burke turned 16 and Fritz 13. Two teenagers! It’s hard to believe and I am constantly in awe of them and the incredible young men that they are. Burke got his license at the end of February and has been driving here, there and everywhere that I currently allow him to. In addition to getting his license he has been getting mostly “A’s” in school and has taken up sewing/embroidery as he has started embellishing his clothes. Burke also designed a sticker for Thornton’s Coffee Roasters, earning his first art commission. It’s been amazing watching him continue to grow and do all that he does. I’m always fascinated by his endeavors and I love how much he reminds me of you with his tenacity and ability to learn new things. My challenge, as it has been for a bit now, is to continue letting go and letting him become in the freedom he needs. It’s not easy but I do my best…most of the time.

Fritz, our newest teenager, has also been doing really well in school and continues to amaze me with his desire to learn and to find new ways to help me find my smiles and laughs. We have been spending a lot of time cleaning up his room and rearranging things to how he wants it to be set up. As it is he has combined his computer desk with a new 6-foot table (a birthday gift) to create his mega-desk (think Dwight) which is now covered with several game boards from his collection of Axis & Allies games (WW1 and WW2 strategy games). Fritz tends to be wise beyond his years and while sometimes his advice to me feels a little hard to hear, I find that the advice is sound and usually what I need to hear. He has your laugh, your big-feeling heart and your silliness. As with Burke, I’m learning to let go of the fact that he is not a kid anymore and to honor where he is at in life but I find that I now have a greater understanding of why the youngest tends to get more attention.

Besides being the proud parent of our kids, I hunkered down at the beginning of this year and completed a writing project I had been working on since last May. The novella is called “The Flute” and, at its core, is about living in a way that is more in balance with nature and with each other while The Flute, when played, reminds all that is of their unique Note of Life and how the rightness of life can only be when we each embrace our individual note and its place within the harmony of all of life. It started as a couple of stories that connected unexpectedly and then expanded out to what it is now. I don’t know what will come of it from here, but I think writing it and completing it, was the important thing. While I did the writing and put in the effort to do so, I feel like it’s important to mention that I had the support of someone who has been an unwavering support in my life since you passed away. Her name is Fey, and she was willing to take on the challenge of offering support for 12 weeks at the beginning of the year to help me learn more about my relationship with creativity. I often wish the two of you had had the chance to meet in this life. I appreciated the experience greatly and continue to let the lessons sink into me as I begin coming back new writing projects.

When I was finished, I was proud of myself for completing it and yet I found I didn’t know how to celebrate it. I considered going out for a beer or a glass of wine but I still haven’t been drinking and didn’t want to have a feeling of guilt associated with what I had accomplished. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted you to read it and hear what you thought about it. I didn’t know how to celebrate it so I didn’t really. I felt sad, and perhaps a little grief.

I still wonder what you would think of this story. I read some of it to you at the beginning of the year. I sat by the table we were given by the owners of Syndicate (it’s made of a slab of sequoia, which is the tree that I spread some of your ashes by in Yosemite) as they had run out of room for it. They had kept it as a memorial table for you as that was the last place we went on our last date. We keep your picture on it as well as other items that are important to our family. Anyway, I read the original short story called The Flute and the follow up story called She of the Sea. It was much harder to do than I thought it would be. I cried a lot but eventually made it through. I’ll read the rest to you in time and will hope that you hear it.

Speaking of crying a lot, I have been getting work done on the house these last few months. The deck was replaced at the end of last year and there is no longer a fear of falling through the rotted boards. More recently I had the same folks start replacing the siding and gutters. They are close to being done and the hope is that they will start painting next week. I will be glad when it is complete as I will then be able to pause selling various limbs and organs to pay for the work and the aforementioned crying should lessen because of it. The owner is a good guy and tells me that you may have sent him my way so that someone would get on our roof to clean the gutters and treat the moss (none of which had been done by me for the last four years). If this is the case, thank you!

My goal is to put in a new stone pathway in where I completely removed some of the deck and revamp the yard a bit so that we can plant more flowers etc. When I discuss this plan with the kids it makes them cry…from laughter. For some reason they find the idea of me successfully completing these tasks funny; I can’t fathom why.

Something else I can’t fully fathom is why I didn’t just pop into that art gallery in Vernonia and try the coffee! It would have been so easy to do and would have saved me a lot of heartache since. I didn’t mention that the day I was there and didn’t go in was one of the only days that the owner actually served his coffee…what a tale of divine timing I could be telling now instead had I gone in.

Since I am on the topic of regrets, I saw that Star Wars Episode 1 is back in theaters for it’s 25th anniversary. I wish I had truly asked you to go see it with me because I would then have had a couple more weeks of dating you. Then again, you may have said “no” for real and I may not have been bold enough to try again. Either way, it’s nearly impossible to believe that we started dating 25 years ago. As Burke and I were cleaning out the garage a couple of weeks ago, I came across a container that had a bunch of your stuff in it and found a box that contained the cards you and I gave each other when we first start dating and a little past the time after we got married. Thank you for saving these. This was divine timing as I needed a reminder of what our love for each other was like.

I miss it. I miss the feeling of being loved by someone and loving them in return. I’m asked on occasion whether I will date again, and I don’t know the answer. I’ve explored the idea and even went on a date a couple of years ago but was nowhere near ready at the time. And who knows if I will ever be? I find it’s hard to meet people when I don’t go out often and the dating apps are nearly as horrifying as the prizes at a small-town raffle.

I know I have the capacity to love again and have felt love for others in various ways and forms but still, I’ve feared embracing it more fully as I am afraid of the possible hurt that can come with feeling that deeply. I’m beginning to learn to open up to feeling all that is meant to be felt in this life (including love and joy) as, in the end, it is worth whatever hurt might come from doing so.

I say this because I want to share where I am with the idea of dating with you and to thank you for choosing to love me. For choosing to be in my life and for accepting and welcoming me into yours. I say these words to you several times a day but want to write it out here as well.

This past week was also full of so many firsts and exemplified the idea of “Joyful Sorrow” that I feel has been the throughline to life as of late. In a span of a week Fritz turned 13, I went to a Pearl Jam concert for the first time since we went to two on our Yellowstone trip in 2018, the kids and I saw the Northern Lights for a short, yet mind-blowing, time and we celebrated Mother’s Day.

For Fritz’ birthday I made him coffee cake which he politely told me liked but would prefer that I not make it again. We had breakfast for dinner and Fritz created a new game for us to play in the forest, which we enjoyed playing for several rounds. It’s joyful being around him each day and watching him grow up and there is a bit of sorrow when I hold on to times-past too tightly.

The Pearl Jam show was a really great experience and brought a part of me that I had held at a distance, back home and I really appreciated that reunion. They released a new album last month and I think you would like it. At the show I stood in line to get my merch and went to the preshow party and charity auction. There were two opening bands for this show, both of whom I dug and Pearl Jam played an amazing show. They played Present Tense and Footsteps and opened with Release which may have brought some tears to my eyes. I was alone but felt you may have been there next to me with your combat boots and flannel tied round your waist.

While I was at the concert there was a pretty spectacular display of the Northern Lights which the kids and I all missed. But the next night we went out to a farm in Hillsboro and got to see then for a short time. Pretty amazing and something that I never expected to get to see!

On Mother’s Day, we planted some flowers in your garden boots and in the garden area. We hope to plant the rest of the garden this weekend. We also went out on a hike in Forest Park where we visited the Witch’s Castle (a stone 1930’s bathroom that is now covered in graffiti, which Burke appreciated), the story of which (haha) was on the back of the Pearl Jam poster. After hanging out there we walked to the Pittock Mansion and enjoyed the amazing views of Mt Hood and the city. All-in-all we probably hiked around 5 miles which I told the kids was much longer than the “hikes” I used to take the four of us on. We ended up eating at the food carts for dinner where, in your honor, I got a jalapeno-popper grilled cheese and a cup of tomato soup. It was good but was perhaps not worth the “after affects” which also seems to fall within the parameters of joyful-sorrow.

I’m not sure why I feel compelled to add this but I guess it also holds joy and sorrow. I have held on to all of your clothes, shoes etc but recently packed them up. I had been hoping to find the “ideal” place to donate them but as I have searched I wonder if my “ideal place” perhaps doesn’t exist and won’t because I have been hesitant to let go of this physical reminder of you. I could pretend a bit that you were coming back if all of your clothes were still in the drawers or hanging in the closet. In the end I have reached a place where I am ready to let go and I do it with both joy and sorrow. I do it with joy as I am glad to feel as though I’m in a place where I can separate letting go of what was and embrace what is and feeling the truth that, in doing so, I’m not forgetting you but bringing my memories of you and the love that you offered me forward in life. The sorrow is simply from the fact that this is something that I have to do. My hope is that your clothes will be meaningful to whoever has them next.

I’m sure there is much more to tell but I think I will end it here and perhaps start a new tradition of writing you more regularly. With the school year coming to an end and the weather getting warmer, we are looking forward to our adventures to come and I hope to continue to embrace it all with an open heart that holds your love and memory so tenderly.

I love you and miss you, Teresa.

Nathan