That first Friday

I am writing this on October 15, the day he died, the day he chose to die. I am sitting outside on a little deck overlooking the Siuslaw in a coffeehouse we occasionally frequented on trips to Florence. When we were first getting to know each other, we used to have Fridays, only Fridays, because of work and school and because he drove to Portland every weekend to be with his mother, who was dying. The Friday I knew I was falling in love with him was the first Friday we went to the beach. He drove the old Valiant his grandfather had off-loaded on him. It had bench seating in the front. I remember sitting close but not too close. So much you don’t know about someone when you are getting to know someone.

 We hadn’t planned anything, but a plan came together, seamlessly, in that natural-supernatural  kismet way things happen when they are destined to happen. We bought a whole cooked crab, delighted to discover, in the moment, that this was a favorite food for both of us. (Now I think: Well, duh, two people in Oregon who love Dungeness crab. What a surprise! But then it seemed like a magic moment.) We bought a bottle of wine. Neither of us knew much about wine, but that did not stop us from having strong opinions. He asked what I wanted, and when I replied “ABC,” he laughed. He knew it stood for Anything But Chardonnay. Another Moment with a capital M. We sat in the sand, windy, cold, spitting rain, eating crab with our fingers and slugging wine from the bottle. On the way back, I sat a little closer. I remember looking at his profile thinking: This is the one.

 So, I am thinking today, sitting by the river, do I excavate that day two years ago, remembering the brilliant sunshine and the blazing maple leaves, the long afternoon walk the boys and I took down McBeth while Tom slept, that evening, the way we were, the way he left, with grace and intention. With extraordinary self-possession. I think I am honoring him by remembering. I hope it is not self-indulgent wallowing. He and I, we had our ups and down, but we never wallowed.