Over the Threshold

 

Going to the Funeral Home to pick up Tommy’s ashes was one of the hardest things I have had to do. It is about a 45 minute drive from the house, luckily my mom has been staying with me and drove us. I thought I could be strong and just “handle business” but even on the drive there I could feel the pain and sadness exuding out of me, even though, I had no tears. Once inside the funeral home, I still managed to maintain professionalism. I was approached by an attendant and said, “I am here to pick up Tommy.” The gentleman said he would be right back and left the room. Upon re-entering the room, the attendant was very respectfully holding Tommy’s ashes, which are in a large scattering tube with a pine trees and a snow capped mountain adorning the tube. At that moment is when the lip began to quiver, my chest hurt, and my vision became blurry due to the immense amount of tears welling up inside, just waiting for the moment to burst out and burn the skin on my cheeks. I did not want to be there. I did not want to carry the remains of my hugsband, my lover, my partner in life. A 29 year old is not supposed to have to do this. We were supposed to grow old together. In fact, just this Thanksgiving, three days before his death, we ran a 15K Turkey Trot. And at the starting line of this Turkey Trot we saw a very fit older couple that was still totally in love. Without discussing anything, we both looked over at them, looked at each other, gave each other the biggest hug ever and almost simultaneously said, “That is going to be us one day, isn’t it?” We let out a huge laugh because we frequently thought the same things, no matter how random they were, and both agreed. We couldn’t wait for that time in our lives together, still kicking asses and taking names.

 

 After being handed Tommy in his scattering tube, the attendant now wants my signature, to prove that I signed for release of his remains and assumed care of Tommy. My hand was not only shaking the most I have ever seen it but it was so weak I could barely grasp the pen. Needless to say, they have a faint resemblance of my signature on the paperwork. My mom and I somberly walk out to the car, me with Tommy embraced in my arms, my mom lovingly holding onto my arm. We decide that we need to go to a Brewery on the way home in honor of Tommy. Tommy and I were recently really getting into micro-brews and local breweries. At first, we would get a sampler tray of the breweries selection.

 

 We would take a little taster from each one and then play one of two games. One game was after we both had a chance to taste each beer we would then pick our favorites from the sampler. Whoever finished their sampler first, got to pick their next favorite. This game was fun and definitely expedited our tasting experience. The second game we would play from time to time with sampler trays was to pick our least favorite beer and try to make it taste good by adding some of the other beers to it. We would do this until all we had left were the most delicious and tasty beers on the sampler tray. And yes, we did get a lot of strange looks! By doing all these sampler trays from Brewery to Brewery we have found our love of dark beers. Me, I’m a fan of porters and stouts, especially when they mix everything delicious in the world and turn it into a beer, such as chocolate, coffee, etc. Tommy, he was a fan of anything “Imperial” but his main weakness was the Imperial Stouts. Because of our new found love of micro-brews, I mustered up the strength to go to an uncharted brewery on the way home. I enjoyed an imperial pumpkin milk stout, all the while I could not get my mind off of Tommy. He would have loved this place. After forcing myself to eat a little food as well, my mom continued the trek back home. Arriving home was the worst. All I could think about was how newlyweds frequently carry their brides over the threshold of their new home….and here I was, carrying the remains of my dead husband over the threshold. I lost it. I was consumed in full body tremors and the worst ugly cry of my life. Uncontrollable. Inconsolable. This is not what Tommy and I have always dreamed of, far from what we looked forward to as a team.