The squeaky clean garage

I cleaned the garage today.

It was in bad shape. I have an awesome garage with lots of storage, perfect for putting stuff away that you don’t want to ever see again.

I kept shaking my head, laughing at some of the crap that was in there. Keeping the garage clean was not one of Brad’s strong points. (You’re probably so grateful to know that I am aware that Brad had faults–there are few, but they exist.)

Every once in a while, I’d get overwhelmed with excited feelings of Brad seeing the clean garage and then tremendous let down when I remembered that that wouldn’t happen.

{Let’s stop right there.}

This is really what I want to talk about. Because that makes me sound totally insane right?

I’ve said stuff like this before and I have a hard time explaining what I mean. It really bugs me and I’m always worried that people are thinking, “Uh-oh, Tahsha’s lost it again.”

I’m not stupid, and I’m only a little crazy.

It’s not like I truly have those conscious thoughts. It’s not like for two whole minutes I’ve completely lost my mind and forgotten my reality.

They’re more like . . . Feelings. If I were to put words to the feelings I had while cleaning the garage they’d go like this:

I can’t wait to see the look on Brad’s face when he sees that I cleaned out the garage for him.

I’m so excited to surprise Brad.

Brad’s going to be so happy.

I better hurry so I have time to shower and dress up nice because Brad’s totally going to take me out to a nice dinner tonight.

I get these kind of feelings all the time.

I don’t want to cook dinner tonight. I wonder if Brad will mind if I get pizza.

I’d better call Brad and tell him I’ll be home a little late.

I need to see if Brad doesn’t mind if I go hang out with my friends.

I can’t wait for Brad to come home so I can tell him the funny things Leah did today.

I hope Brad will be home soon so he can make me feel better.

See, these are just feelings, natural instincts that have been ingrained in me for six years. Most of the time they’re small, almost unnoticeable. I’ll be busy, absorbed in work, life with Leah, or watching TV and these sneaky little feelings will catch me by surprise.

The pain comes when these feelings totally take over and for only a split second they actually do become a believable thought. Then reality crashes over me, sucker punches me in the guts and I can’t catch my breath.

It’s like the logical, stuck-in-reality part of me has to constantly tell the irrational denial-based part of me to shut up. The part that can’t get six years of routine out of my head. The part that still cannot believe that this is real. The part that’s still waiting for him to come through the door.

In the mean time, the garage is clean.

So that’s a good thing–a blessing I get to count.

It was hard work. I was covered in dirt, grease and dog hair (I know, sexy.) But it felt so good to cross that nagging project off my list. I’m still proud of myself when I go out and see the garage all clean.

I almost expect a little sparkle to beam at me.

The Whistler

This story is too good not to share.

See, I have never been good at being alone at night. In fact, I think I was married for three years before I ever spent a night alone. I’d go to my Mom’s or have someone sleep here whenever Brad was out of town.

As time went on, I got better, got an alarm system…*grew up* but I still never liked it. After the night, I think everyone, including me, was nervous that I wouldn’t ever sleep at night again. I think TJ and Stephanie moved in for like a week, my Mom, Dad and brothers all took turns sleeping on my couch. The night after the funeral I totally thought I would be fine, but I felt like the whole world was at Brad’s funeral and every one of those people knew that I was home alone. I felt like a target. So I called Daddy.

Then Leslie, my east coast nanny mom came to spend the week with me, relieving my family of the baby sitting job for a while.

After that, I decided that I couldn’t do this forever. I had to be a big girl. Like so many other things, I had no choice.

So, the sun started to set and the night came on. I got all ready convinced myself that I’d be fine, convinced my family that I’d be fine, and went to bed.

Leah insisted on sleeping in my bed, (okay, I pulled her in with me), Casey, my dog got cozy on the floor and I tried to fall asleep to some familiar TV.

It didn’t work. I heard every single sound in my house, I pressed pause a dozen times, trying to decipher if the creek I’d just heard was giant gross man size, or tiny wind against the window size, and had to keep going out to check the alarm and all the doors *again*

Then, at about 2 am, I heard a sound. A serious sound. Not some innocent house creak that my overactive and stupidly scared mind could turn into a massive gang robbery.

I crept out of bed. Leah stirred a little, but didn’t act like she was going to wake up. I stepped over Casey, the sleeping guard dog, to go investigate the threat that his well trained senses didn’t seem to pick up.

Sneaking down the hall, I flipped on the lights and checked the family room and kitchen. I crept to the stairs and just as I was about lean over the railing to catch the man that I knew was at the bottom just waiting to jump out at me,

Someone whistled.

I’m sure I made some noise that would be embarrassing if anyone heard and ran to my room.

As I careened down the hall, trying to figure out how I was going to get my gun, call 911, safely drop my daughter out the window while shooting the creepy whistler who had surely made it up the stairs by now, he whistled again.

It wasn’t a loud whistle. It was soft, drawn out. A high note, dragging out to a lower note. Creepy.

I got to my room, ready to set my set my Tahsha’s-hard-core-plan into action, and there was the culprit. The whistler was in my room.

Leah.

My three year old daughter was awake, sitting up and showing off her well practiced skill of whistling for the dog.

Yep.

I decided I wasn’t ready to spend the night alone yet.

Arrowhead Riding Club

Brad roped with the Arrowhead Riding Club. He loved it. As the secretary, he put a lot of work into the club. Most importantly, he made amazing friends. A few weeks ago, they held a roping in honor and memory of Brad.

They had the whole family enter the arena and they talked about Brad. They mentioned his trailer, which was “larger then life, just like Brad.” They let out the first steer in his honor, something that is sentimental to the roping sport. We had a moment of silence while the steer ran--something we all cried, probably pretty noisily too.

Watching all those cowboys, some standing, some kneeling, holding their hats over their hearts and thinking about Brad was seriously amazing.

What great people.

They dedicated the song “Live Like You Were Dying.” by Tim McGraw to the whole family. I could hardly contain the water works. Leah hugged me for a minute, but ditched me because there was dirt that needed to be played in. My sister hugged me and we both cried and shook and listened to the song.

There’s time when I’m so in control of my emotions, people actually think it’s strange that I’m not crying when they are. And other times when

I Just. Can’t. Stop.

See, besides the fact that it would be an emotional song anyway, this was a special song to Brad and I. This song was popular back when Brad and I were dating and we were so excited about our skydiving adventure. (We went skydiving--best date ever!) So, we loved to turn the volume up to this song and soon were able to see past the skydiving part and focus on the message of the song. Anyone who knew Brad knew that he lived every day like it was his last.

Then they dedicated the song “I Believe There Are Angels Among Us” to Leah and I. At this point, I’d bawled through most of Tim McGraw, so at the risk of dehydration, I was a little more in control during this song.

They made this beautiful sign that they are going to keep up in the arena and made a duplicate for Doug and Carol that we are going to hang in the shop when we make our wall that will be dedicate to Brad. The belt buckles that they gave out for their winners were inscribed with Brad’s name. They ordered one for me too. It’s beautiful.

What a monument to this amazing man. I’m so grateful that he had some amazing friends and we are so blessed to have such love and support from the community that he was a huge part of.