Monthly Archives: March 2022

Mixing sports

I went skiing last week and a hockey fight broke out.

Well, not quite, but nearly. Here’s what happened.

I took off one day last week to go skiing with two of Ted’s ICU nurses. The plan was for us to meet up at the ski area and I told them which parking lot I was shooting for, as it has a bathroom and you can ski into and out of it to begin and end your day. I was up early that morning, so I decided to go a bit early to see if I could get a good spot.

When I arrived there was a car in front of me to begin a row with a traffic cone next to them that I took for marking as far over as they should park. I parked right behind the car to start the next row, but knowing that I didn’t have a cone, that someone would eventually use the space available between me and the driving path between me and the bathroom to park another vehicle. I decided to throw out my skis and backpack in that spot so no one would park there.

While the parking lot was still mostly unfilled, no one seemed to bother, but as spaces became fewer I had a couple people ask but move on without issue when I said I was saving a space. That was until I noticed a young guy and his gal about to drive up and over my skis.

I got out of my car, and shook my head at him and said that I was saving the spot for a couple ICU nurses and he couldn’t park there. He rolled his window down and said that he was a medic and first responder, so he should get the spot. I shook my head no. He got out of the car and said he was going to move my skis. I stood firm and told him No, he wasn’t going to touch my skis. He approached me and then said he had also just gotten back from a tour in Iraq (I can’t keep up on where we have any bits of troops left abroad, so I wasn’t sure to call bullshit on that one, but it felt like he was fibbing). He then kept yelling that I was telling him that my nurses were better than him. After he stopped with that little mantra, I simply replied that no, I wasn’t saying that they were better than him, I was saying that I know them, and I don’t know him, and therefore my loyalty to hold this coveted spot is to them and not him. He then changed tactics that no one can hold a space in this lot, that’s not what this mountain is all about. Again calmly, I said well, today I am and continued to stand my ground. Exacerbated, he finally got into the car and left.

I texted the gals that they had better be close as I was just about in a fight to save their spot and they assured me that they were only minutes away.

Just then a truck pulled up and parked nearly in the drive path and close to my skis – not actually leaving enough space for a car between us. I got out to speak to them and saw that it was two older gentlemen. Shit. I could tell young folks to go find a farther spot all day long, but I don’t have it in me to tell somebody older to go pound sand. But still I knocked on the drivers window near me to have a conversation.

I told these two older guys about spending weeks upon weeks in the hospital and feeling blessed to have these nurses even willing to stay in touch with me and wanting to have a spot for them when they arrive. They were sympathetic, but when I started crying as I told them my husband passed away, they were fully vested and promised to allow the gals to park.

Turns out, that while I can’t say no to a couple of old guys, they also can’t say no to an older crying gal. 😁

The gals showed up, we moved my car a bit closer to the car next to me, the guys moved their truck over a smudge in the other direction and the gals pulled in right between us.

We had a really fun day on the slopes with good stories shared on lifts and in the lodge over a break, good laughs and good snow.

Thanks to the gals for meeting me and to the guys for helping me save them a spot in the parking lot.

Love. Sal

It’s Hard

People have been mentioning that I haven’t been writing lately and of coarse they are correct. It was not hard to write everyday while Ted was in the hospital because I was just updating everyone on his condition and adding a segment or two of my day in as well. Now that he is gone, it’s hard to find the points that feel like people would be interested in. I mean, good things happen every day, but when I think I may write about it, it’s hard for me to sit down and formulate the words and get a story out. At the root of it, is that every story right now still has Ted interwoven into every weave and thread of the narrative and it makes me cry and so I decide I don’t want to write and just relive all of my sad moments for others to read when there is enough heartache and sadness out there in this mixed up world.

I will though, relay some info to keep the interested updated.

Currently on our immediate horizon is Galen and Ciara’s wedding on 4/5/22. Yes it is a Tuesday. It is the same date that Galen bended a knee and proposed, and it also happens to be off season and a less expensive day for the rental of the lovely Evergreen Lake House where the nuptials will occur. It is a small affair with just a few family and friends. Honestly, our input into this event has been minimal as we are all struggling mightily to face such an important day without Ted’s physical presence.

A few weeks back when I was asked to choose a song for the mother son dance, I struggled. Online suggestions included many country and western ideas, but we are more of a rock and roll family. I was texting Ted’s ICU nurses and mentioned I could use some ideas and they quickly responded with some good selections. They had after all, listened to Teds play lists for many weeks as he was in their care. I then messaged those selections to the kids and also received a thumbs up from Ciara. The following day, I called Galen to speak to him personally to see if he was indeed ok with the tune, or if I should keep looking. He suddenly needed to stop what he was doing and try to gain composure as he admitted that he hasn’t been involved in any of the music and couldn’t hardly stand to even think of it now. As he choked out the words, that every tune that he would or could think of, was all of Ted’s play lists, and it just hurt too much to think about it. He relayed that it was hard for him to even think about his own wedding sometimes. I then realized that I too had been avoiding asking about and offering input about the day. I hadn’t even seen an invitation, so, it wasn’t until Ciara’s bridal shower recently that I even thought to inquire what time the actual ceremony was at. Noon is that answer.

We are all on the struggle bus right now.

It dawned upon me last week that I had purchased a dress to wear for the wedding before Ted was hospitalized and well, being the emotional eater that I am, I may not even fit into it. I started my spring cleanse in hopes that I can drop some of those grief and stress pounds. I finally slipped it on the other night, but it has a long zipper up the back that is hard to zip two handed and with myI lack the arm flexibility to reach back there, let’s just say that I still don’t know if the dress will close.

I brought up my dilemma of not fitting into the dress last night while visiting some friends. One of them asked what kind of fiber it was woven of. She relayed, that given a natural fiber that can stretch, I could put it on and stand in the shower to wet the entire dress down, and then wear it till it is mostly dry and it would then have formed to my body. I have to giggle at that idea, but I know that I’ll look at the label now just to see if the option is there.

So, I’ll let you know how it goes after another week of low cal eating.