Ash’s first love was golf. It was also his mistress. He played in high school, also in college, kind of meandered around for a few years before returning to his … Continue reading A History of Golf: The Ash and Kellie Version
Ash’s first love was golf. It was also his mistress. He played in high school, also in college, kind of meandered around for a few years before returning to his … Continue reading A History of Golf: The Ash and Kellie Version
Ash and I had been together for a little over 2 years when he decided the Outer Banks wasn’t the place for him. He moved here to become a Realtor, … Continue reading Rocky Mountain High
I don’t know whether like comes first or lust comes first, but either way, it didn’t take me long to like or lust after Ash. He was unlike anyone I … Continue reading Like. Lust. Love.
Dear Jonesie:
It feels normal to write to you. I’m not sure why. It’s like P.S. I Love You, but in reverse because you’re the one that’s gone and I’m the one writing to you. Which, obviously, is backwards, but I’m pretty backwards so I’m certain you’re not surprised. Anyway, last letter I wrote to you caused quite a stir. I’m not sure if you can see what’s happening from where you are, or if you even care (I, for one, hope you are so blissfully happy that you could careless what’s happening on Earth, coz let me tell ya, it ain’t all that great). But I pissed some people off. Shocking, I know. I don’t know if this is the easy way out, but I think it’s more of a them problem than a me problem. Or if it’s a me problem, which it totally might be, it’s not something I have the time or the energy to worry about. I’ve got bigger fish to fry, ya know? But I’m sorry for upsetting people you cared about. That much is true. But I’m not sorry for being me.
Anyway, the boys and I took a lonnnnggggg car ride this weekend to Wild and Wonderful West Virginia. Gosh, that is one beautiful state. It started snowing in the mountains of Virginia and didn’t stop until we arrived at our destination. I don’t know why snow is so pretty, or why I think I hate it so much (that’s not true, I hate it because it’s cold and I hate to be cold) but it was breathtaking. Almost like traveling through space, the way it was coming down at times. The boys absolutely loved watching it, so thanks for that, if you had anything to do with it.
The weekend was filled with so much belly laughter that I might have given my core a bit of a workout (ha)! Jack hung with his first ever friend and it was like no time had passed at all. They just picked right up where they left off last time they saw each other. Colt bonded with everyone, I think, as Colt does, with his charming way and hysterically funny nature. Jack practiced baseball with his buddy and won the team practice golden glove award. He went to the mall and bought a pretzel because “we don’t have malls where we live.” The boys experienced hibachi for the first time and it was almost magical (so much more so than that fucking place we won’t mention again, the one with the mouse…). They were beyond amazed. I got a few good pictures but was not camera ready when the cook top was first set on fire. Colt’s face was priceless. That’s one memory that will stick out in my mind for as long as I still have my wit’s about me. (I took that DNA test – the one you claimed was such a rip off because they probably just have a handful of results they rotate through everyone – turns out I’m at advanced risk for late onset Alzheimer’s so it’s possible I won’t remember it forever.)
We ate, we shopped (side note – I suck at shopping – it used to be one of my favorite things and now, nothing. Amazon has ruined me. Damn you Amazon), we drank, we laughed (we laughed hard and often) and we cried. We cried because you weren’t there. We cried because life is so fucking hard, for everyone, with tiny little moments of joy thrown in the mix just so we don’t lose sight of why we’re here. We also cried because, man, children are slobs. It takes them seconds to completely wreck a room, yet when it’s time to clean up, they’re so tired, and they’re bellies hurt and they’re hungry and can’t do anything until they get something to eat. Pansies.
There were 2 five year olds in the house and I don’t know if I had too much champagne or wine or too little sleep, but I decided to let those 2 five year olds give me a makeover. I wasn’t quite going for the Avatar look, but Avatar is what I got. There were way more belly laughs involved in the makeover, though, so it was totally worth it. Colt got over it pretty quickly. His “palms were getting sweaty so he couldn’t do it anymore” and “mama doesn’t look like a mama anymore” so he had to go outside and do man things. Like jump on the trampoline. (Is that manly??? I don’t know!)
You’d be so proud of the boys and the trip there and back. We, of course, had our issues because we were trapped in the car together for 8+ hours each way. But they sure did handle it like champs. I feel awfully proud of myself, too, for making the journey. You know how I hate doing things alone. But I did it. It was fun. It was worth it. We didn’t die. And we didn’t kill each other. We did stop and eat at possibly the sketchiest, and grossest, Wendy’s I’ve ever had in my life, but otherwise got through the actual driving pretty unscathed.
We wish you had been with us. Our friend was so good to Jack. He took him to practice, took him to Dick’s, they did the batting cages, he’s the one that took Jack to the mall and took the boys to take infield. Everything our boy needed before the start of next season. He was happy and having fun, soaking it all up. But, again, we missed you. As we always miss you.
I had a dream about you last night. It wasn’t a good dream. But it was nice to see you. Maybe next time you come see me, don’t be such a prick!
Back to reality tomorrow. It was so nice to escape it for a few days, escape these walls that remind us of you, remind us of what we had and constantly remind us of what we lost. That which doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger though, so we are going to be some strong mother fuckers up in here! Until next time, Jonesie…we love you.
Love,
Poopsie, Donkey and Mr. Tolt
There’s been something on my mind for a while. (Mama, be warned, you’re not gonna like this one!). As you know, Ash was cremated and had a few spots he would like his ashes scattered. Jack, Colt and I took care of the first spot, off the Kitty Hawk Pier into the Atlantic Ocean on New Year’s Eve. It was a beautiful, crisp bright day. A little windy (hence why a little bit of Ash may or may not be stuck on a piling on said Kitty Hawk Pier). I said a few words (the boys didn’t want to), we took a few pictures and we let go of our first piece (is that the right word? Probably not.) of Ash. There was some laughter, a little tearing up and a lot of arguing between the boys. I don’t think Ash would have expected it any other way.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the next destinations. The Grand Canyon, Salado and Ft. Worth, Texas and Ireland (wherever I so choose!). I’ve decided Texas should definitely be a family trip with the boys. They had so much fun when we went last spring break. They got to meet some of Ash’s closest friends, fish, ride horses, play in the creek, eat real Tex Mex, and Texas BBQ (different from NC BBQ) and they/we fell just fell in love with all of it. It will be difficult to go back without Ash but it is something we have to and need to do together. The 3 Musketeers (ok, we don’t call ourselves that but whatever.)
Ireland is in the 5 year plan. I don’t intend to take the boys to Ireland. They are young and complain a lot and it’s too much money and too far to go to spend 10 days listening to them bitch. Sorry boys, you know it’s true. So that will be an adult only trip, but down the road a bit. It’s going to take some cash and a lot of planning that I don’t have the energy to put into at this time.
That leaves the Grand Canyon, which I’m thinking of heading out over spring break in April. I’ve had many different thoughts on this one. The kids and me? Maybe but again it’s another long trip where a lot of fighting and complaining will happen. Girls trip to Vegas with a quick hop over to the Grand Canyon? Anyone (adult) trip to Vegas with the same quick hop? I thought that was the way I would go, but the more I think about it, the more it turns me off. I don’t want to cheapen what I’m doing with some drunken trip where I spend too much money, drink too much booze and forget the whole reason I am there. I am there for Ash, to honor him, to remember him, to free him and to free myself.
So that leads me to where my thoughts lie now, something that has been toying with my brain (and my heart) for a while. It started as a fleeting thought. Road trip somewhere? And then it grew. Road trip to the Grand Canyon? And then I let it go, or I tried to let it go. But it just kept nagging and growing and growing and nagging. What if I go to the Grand Canyon, drive myself there (maybe with a friend and maybe not – it’s ok mama, it will all be ok!). What if I make it an adventure that Ash would be proud of? What if I step outside my comfort zone (Ash’s proverbial box) and do something fun and exciting and a little bit scary? What if I let go of what people think and just do what I feel is right deep in my soul? What if I create a beautiful life experience to honor my deceased husband that I will remember for the rest of my life? Just thinking about it, writing about it is bringing tears to my eyes, I can feel the blood in my veins coursing through my body, my heartbeat escalating and I just know this is what I’m supposed to do.
There is a camper van sitting in my driveway. It’s not mine, but maybe, just maybe I could borrow it? Rent it? Can someone teach me how to use it over the next 2 months should the answer be yes? Maybe I could bring a friend. Or maybe I drive my car and maybe I do this all on my own.
I want Ash to be remembered for the way he was – always LIVING, always looking for his next adventure and always Always ALWAYS having the balls to do it. And this is one thing I can do for him that I know he would be so proud of and love so hard.
So, Mama, don’t be scared. I know what I’m doing. Can you keep all my things while I release another part of my heart?