Today was my appointment to pick up Ted from the cremation place. I had no idea what I would be feeling, so I took the afternoon off. The cremation facility was not too far from the hospital, so I had decided I would swing by the hospital first and drop off a plate of the home made Christmas decorated cookies that the kids had come up and made with us yesterday. I was a bit shaky walking up to the ICU with emotions creeping in that this was a different mission and that Ted wasn’t at the end of the long walk up to ICU anymore.
My melancholy vanished at the sight of the main nurse that had taken care of us both so well. I got to talk and laugh some really good laughs with her and got to see and hug some of my other nurses as well. So, by the time I left, I was feeling thankful and no longer sad.
It was a beautiful drive to the cremation place. It was unseasonably warm – I drove with the window down – and the route followed the Platt River and it just felt like a good day.
The cremation place was locked and you had to ring the buzzer for entry. For a second, it felt like a secret entrance to a speakeasy lounge or something. Inside, it looked like a small reception area for the times that they host funerals or calling hours. I produced my ID and they produced a rather heavy black polymer container holding Ted’s ashes. They also provided the death certificates and the travel papers should I be traveling with his ashes anywhere beyond going home. It amused me that I should have to take a passport of such if I was to be hauling his entire remains around.
It was so nice out that I really felt like it was the kind of day that Ted and I would stop and enjoy the day and have a beer together somewhere. I quickly cycled through some breweries that I remembered being in the area, thinking that I could take Ted into a bar and we still could have a beer together today. It didn’t take long for me to dismiss the thought. Walking into a bar with my dead husband’s ashes sounded a bit too much like the start of a joke, and really, his bar at the house was where we should have a beer, so I headed home.
No one was home when I arrived, so I took Ted down and sat him atop the bar, got out a beer, poured half into a small glass for me and left the other half in the bottle, next to his box. This was how we often spit a beer. I got the small glass and he finished what was left in the can or bottle. I had just toasted and had a few sips of beer when Devin arrived home with his skateboarding friend. He asked what I was doing (I was not normally at home at this time in the afternoon) and I told him. His face registered some shock (I guess I failed to relay that I was picking up the ashes today), but he quickly recovered and he asked if he could have a swig of his Dad’s beer . I said sure, and together, we again toasted and then decided to check out the contents of the box.
We both commented that the ashes were grittier to the touch (through the bag) than we had expected. We closed the box back up and the kids headed back out to the skate park. I came upstairs and hooked up Ted’s office computer to do some work, but felt like I didn’t get to finish my little talk with Ted, so I headed back downstairs. I told him that I needed him to help me out with some of his secrets. I started with where to find the magic switch for the hidden TV in the bar. I found one of his headlamps in the bar area and proceeded to really delve into checking out the space once more. It only took maybe ten minutes and I found the switch. Ok then, I said, lets work on where are the guns and some of the money you have hidden. We had an issue earlier this year where we felt we should move all the guns and I generally don’t give a hoot where he puts stuff, so I wasn’t made privy to the new hiding spots. I went to where I felt he would most likely have stashed some of the stuff and in another 15 minutes or so, found the guns, some silver coins, one stash of cash (I’m sure there is a few hundred here and there, so more likely to be found). I had already looked in all of these spaces, but for some reason, today, Ted seemed to be directing me to spaces where I needed to look but had not gotten to in prior searches.
Who knew that all I needed was to do was sit down, have a beer with Ted and ask. Thanks Ted for the early Christmas presents. I hope I don’t have to have a beer every time I have a question. LOL
All in all it was a much better day than I was afraid it would be. Just goes to show you that you shouldn’t project what might happen and should instead flow with what does happen and appreciate it.
It is good to have Ted back in the house today.
3 thoughts on “A Beer with Ted”
Sometimes the anticipation of a bad day can outrun the awfulness of the actual date. I am happy that your day was lighter, brighter, and warmer than expected. A toast: to the indomitable spirits of you and of Ted.
I think I’ll have a beer now.
Chug with a hug