we're pretty cool married people

Usually I know how to begin a piece of writing work, be it a blog post, a research paper, or a marketing e-mail. I usually know because, usually, I plan these things out I think about them. Today I don’t have that luxury because I am writing this all on a whim. I think the overall post might reflect that, and perhaps that will turn out to be a good thing. For now it’s just context, we’ll judge the rest when it’s done.

It is 7:00 am on Halloween morning, 2011. Normally I would still be passed out asleep on my bed, only to stir when my phone insists I do so at around 9:30. Today, however, I was met with the combination of a dream only the most distressingly curious part of my subconscious wanted to continue and Lyra making a tiny bit more noise then usual in getting ready. As I am sure we have all experienced at one time or another, I was given the choice to wake up, or carry on sleeping (or at least trying to do so). After some hesitation I decided to get up. One reason was that I want to start getting up earlier during the week anyway, partly because I’m older now and that seems the thing to do, and partly because there are a lot of things I would like to get done during the day that currently I am not doing, and getting up earlier would create more time to do those things.

Another reason was the aforementioned dream and my subsequent desire to go hug my wife before she left for work. You see, my dream was very specifically about how my life would look if she died. I have to say, it wasn’t pretty. Of course, don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t a nightmare, terrifying as it was, but it was a dream. Being a dream it was full of the sorts of weird things that only happen in dreams. In this case the whole thing took place on a weird small island that I can only describe as being like Mackinaw Island, MI. People had to take ferries to get there. Oh, and there were a lot of weird people around — weird here meaning not that they are necessarily strange people, but rather that it was strange for them to be making an appearance at all because I don’t really talk to them all that often.

Anyway, so in this dream it is our wedding day, only this time as I am getting ready in the morning I hear news that Lyra has passed away suddenly. Panicked, I head to the church and see her body for myself. Suddenly our wedding turns into a funeral — attendees stand up to give eulogies, we share our grief, and I mostly sulk in the corner reflecting on what all this means for me. The really strange thing is that I have all of the knowledge and memories of the real life me split with the anxiety of the pre-married me.

I guess what you have to know first is that Im not a super emotive person. Sometimes I would go so far as to say that I am not very emotional, but I have known this not to be the case often enough to say that is a hard truth. At the very least, the things that affect most people very deeply usually don’t hit me as hard. Not to imply that they don’t at all, because they do. But I seem to deal with pain and loss pretty well compared to how I see that in others.

But in this dream? Im not sure I can make that claim. The grief was very real — so real in fact it woke me up, or at least made me want to in order to stop it. The funeral was incredibly sad, incredibly moving. It was all so visceral I’d have been worried if it wasn’t sad or moving. There was a point where half-awake me was half-sure this had really happened, and that point — that point where your half-away self starts purposely influencing the dream to achieve certain ends — was when things really got scary.

Because you see, funerals end and then people have to move on with life despite their loss. In this case that meant heading home to an area where I have no friends. It meant living in apartment decorated with photos and memories we have together. It meant countless nights sitting alone in the dark eating noodles or takeout because I never took the time to learn how she cooked all those amazing dishes, and not wanting to turn on the tv because we had watched so many shows and movies together it would feel like cheating at the worst, or simply hollow at best. It meant trying to find out where to go or what to do with this young life I still had. I couldn’t stay in the apartment, partly because of the haunting memories, and partly because I just couldn’t afford it on my salary alone. I had to get out, so I pinned my hopes on moving back to the midwest, toward friends and the prospect of doing improv. Meeting another woman was out of the question. Maybe if the dream had kept going until I was in my 30’s, though somehow I doubt it. I simply don’t think there could ever be another woman for me, and this awful awful dream just slapped me in the face and told me to start appreciating her more.

I think unfortunately it’s pretty easy to take things for granted, but that’s dangerous! I think of everything Steve Jobs ever did or said, my favorite is “Death is life’s change agent.” Putting that quote in context is the knowledge that, just a year prior he had been diagnosed with the cancer that would eventually claim him. Faced with his own mortality, Jobs went on to accomplish some truly amazing things. I think this is probably the best lesson anyone can take from his example. On average, pancreatic cancer patients only live for about a year after it sets. Thanks to a liver transplant, Jobs lived for nearly 8, and in that time he brought about some of his best innovations. I would like to argue here that sometimes a “death call” can be the best wake up call. As awful as it is, maybe it is good to be reminded of your own, or in my case a loved one’s, mortality. That we can be snatched away from one another at literally ANY time should motivate us to live great lives.

I think that’s all I’m going to say for now. There is a lot more on my mind than I have printed here, and maybe I’ll get to it in the next week or so. I hope I do, but if I don’t I like to think it’s because I was distracted by making the most out of my time with my beautiful and amazing wife. In short, I’ve been feeling fairly introspective of late. Ive got a playlist now of songs that I feel define the kind of life I want to live or avoid, and I feel that I’m close to a crossroads in making key choices that will subtly define which way I go. I’m also glad I had this dream because I sometimes worry that I am borderline unfeeling because of how well I tend to cope with grief, but ever so sporadically I have moments like this one that remind me of my humanity. I think there is some good to be found in our sadness.

Scott

I love this picture.

This was taken before we were married. Before we were dating. Before we were friends.

We were barely acquaintances.

Part of why I love this picture comes from the fact that Scott had subconsciously ate his pop-tart into Minnesota’s dear shape, which also happens to be where I was born and raised. Ever since I first caught a glimpse of this picture, I liked to tease Scott that it wasn’t just a mistake that he “accidentally” ate his pop-tart into the shape of Minnesota while doing other thing. It was obvious that he wanted to be a part of the wonderful state that I call home.

But all joking aside there is some truth to this.

Before the idea of marriage, or boys, or college, God had Scott Alaric Hale from Manassas, Virginia in mind for Lyra Rain Schweiger of Montevideo, Minnesota. And I think that’s the other part of why I love this picture so much. 

because

regardless of what we know, or may be unsure of

for both our near future

and far future

God already has a plan for us.