I Said Yes

“And I Said Yes!”

FORWARD

Often, in the deep recesses of the folds of the heart, there are feelings and emotions trapped…just trapped. Our life experiences create this condition and, depending on the results of those experiences, our feelings and emotions are conceived. We don’t often get to choose how those things affect us or how we react, for human beings tend to respond in a knee-jerk type of way, to what and how we feel. For most of us, healing comes from understanding what has happened, how it has happened, and how to prevent hurt and pain in our future…if we are smart and somewhat lucky.

This project started out as a journey…a chronicle if you will…an attempt to heal a devastating wound, feelings of loss, guilt and the emotions that attach themselves to that loss. The project does not, in most conventional ways, have a “traditional” happy ending; rather its words force the author, and the reader, to acknowledge the realization that we all suffer loss and we all bear the burden of dealing with that loss. The words and story line warn that, while loss is inevitable and people have been dealing with it for millions of years, sometimes the effects and burden and emotion of loss just do not go away.

In as much, this expedition and project have created a “forced” happy ending; meaning that the author learns some significant lessons about himself along the way in addition to remembering, with love and gratitude, the person who helped him learn those things. The love story ends, and not in a fashion one would ever choose, but it does end in a way where one knows, truly, that there is a place and a time; that circumstances and people pop into your life at unscheduled and inconvenient times. In its conclusion it allows for a deep and true understanding of the relationship; what it was and what it meant at the time and, even now.

Suffice it to say there are many clichés floating around….” Life goes on”, “It gets better with time”, “The pain subsides” etc. For those trying to ease our pain, these clichés are often the only way they know how to pat you on the back or hug you or support you and, yet, most times upon hearing them it only forces you to realize that they are, in fact, clichés and you are continually forced to deal with the feelings, emotions and loss because no one, not one person in your inner circle, has the answer……but you.

While the basic story line in this chronicle is true there have been some embellishments in order to honestly protect those that the story portrays. In some respects, there are elaborations of the story line…in other respects there are certain details that are purposefully left out or understated. The “Backstory” (Prologue) could also be considered the beginning of the conclusion as I attempt to take things in an order that weaves through the five or six years of the odyssey itself. I don’t pretend that, in a chronological sense, this story flows but, in the end, it concludes in the same way, no matter which direction you go. This is a work that combines fiction and non-fiction, entertainment and real life and, in some ways, crosses the lines of both.

PROLOGUE

The Last Days

“I just need you to be able to tell people I was here…

I felt, I lived, and I loved as much as I could, while I could…

And that person that I loved, was you”

. . . .

As I was going through the box of things they sent to me...a non-descript cardboard box...actually a box that normally would be used to ship wine of course, I suddenly realized right there, at that moment, it was all I had left of him...

I fumbled through the items and trinkets in the box; A baseball hat with his logo on it (still with the sweat ring on the front from his hard work in the vineyards)...a couple of engraved wine openers...a T-shirt (that smell of his favorite Hugo Boss cologne drifting as I unfolded the shirt)...a bracelet I had given him a few years ago for Christmas..(I noted that the bracelet had a somewhat sticky substance on it..brownish in color)...all carefully wrapped and placed inside the box and, then, ...an envelope with my name on it ...in his handwriting...with spots of that same substance I saw on the bracelet.

With what seemed like an hour of myself being in a trance-like state I snapped back into the here and now. I carefully put everything back inside the box, including the envelope, and put it on a shelf in the bedroom. I went outside with a glass of wine and lit a smoke.

It was dusk and as I looked out over the landscape at the beautiful northern California sunset, I lost it...dropped the glass and started to sob...like no man should (I thought later). Twenty minutes of sobbing...the deep uncontrolled sobbing that takes your breath away…The kind that hurts your ribs-sobbing. And then it stopped.

“Before you can live a part of you has to die. You have to let go of what could have been, how you should have acted and what you wish you would have said differently.

You have to accept that you can’t change the past experiences, opinions of others at that moment in time or outcomes from their choices or yours.

When you finally recognize that truth then you will understand the true meaning of forgiveness of yourself and others. From this point you will finally be free.”

Shannon L. Alder

1. The Beginning

Often it is difficult to know where to begin when you are in the midst of trying to tell your story. Will the reader or listener be bored…? like when you are on a job interview and the interviewer says “Tell me about you”…..the question you ask yourself is how much is too much and how much is too little. How do you narrow things down where the story is understood but not over or understated? I suspect that is what editors and editorial boards are for but for the average Joe it’s a difficult path.

Having grown up in the Midwest…small agricultural and tourist town right on the beaches of one of the great lakes I suspect Midwest values were instilled in me. We were a family of five and my twin brother and I were the oldest when this story begins. The reason I talk about the Midwest values is because, when you grow up there, family is instilled in your brain….it is almost something that is taught in school. You grow up on a street where all the families know each other…you go through your entire growing up years with the same kids. Playing catch in the street in the spring…camping out on the beach or in the backyard in summer….going to football games in the fall and shoveling snow for a little cash in the winter….all with the goal of doing all the same things when you grow up and have your own family.

What our parents, or any of the parents for that matter, didn’t know was each one of us neighborhood kids had a secret goal….and that was to get out of there and see the world. Many did….and though I went clawing and scratching…my whole family ended up leaving the Midwest for the west coast. The moved happened several months after my twin unexpectedly died in a car accident. Though my folks waited until I graduated from High School, I was not happy about leaving my friends or all that I knew. My secret goal of escape was realized and, yet, I didn’t really find myself happy about it…. go figure!

Leaping forward several years I found myself practicing the same rituals as an adult, again in a small town, but with my own family. I had met a wonderful woman with two very young sons. She and her boys had recently moved to the area and we had friends in common. Long story short we married, set up house, the boys went to school and played sports, we both worked in professional occupations and life moved along…much as it had when I was growing up. We took family vacations every summer and winter, we had a fairly large circle of friends, we had two great kids who were growing up fast and, though we didn’t see much of them, we both had extended family and did the typical holiday, birthday and special event get togethers.

From a personal perspective I will tell you that, while I had conformed to the ritualistic existence of my parents and my grandparents before them, I felt, over time, that something was missing. I couldn’t put my finger on it and most of the time I just ignored the pangs of wanting something different. I know that this led to many discussions between myself and my wife about happiness…. about contentment…. about where we were headed in our lives. I know because, in as much as I tried to bury those feelings, she knew. She was smart, intuitive and had an insanely keen sense of right and wrong and, while I loved her immensely, she was right. It took me a few years to actually admit to her that she was right…that I was looking for something different and the guilt and burden of that discussion stays with me today…..there are people in this world that you just don’t want to hurt or disappoint and she is one of those people. I committed to her that things would be better…that I was not unhappy but that I was just looking for something more but, sadly, in the end, this was not to be.

Three job-related transfers took us, as a family, to cities we had never experienced before. Vibrant, large and alive cities with great restaurants and great attractions; each with its own personality and compliment of activities we could immerse ourselves in. For me, most of those activities were centered on the type of work I did (Hospitality) and that meant long strings of working several days or weeks in a row…. most times I worked at night or did 14 or 16- or 18-hour days. This did not bode well for trying to have a relationship nor did it do anything other than keep me away which, in and of itself, did not show any real motivation to keep the relationship working.

During one of my work-related events I happened across some folks that I became very friendly with. A family that built, owned and operated a new winery in one of the hottest new wine regions in the country. Though the winery was 4 hours away from me I became almost obsessed with them, with the wine-making process and their story of building this infant business. Days and weeks, and possibly months, went by but there was just something in my head that made me want to get to know them more.

At the conclusion of a large, 3-day trade show in my town, the couple, Dave and Diane, invited me to dinner and we spent hours laughing and getting to know each other and enjoying their wine. As we were getting ready to finish up the evening Diane asked me if my restaurant would be interested in coming up to the winery and catering a large-scale event that would last 3 days. It was an anniversary celebration highlighting their wines, the completion of the winery and a thank you to all those in their small town that had helped and supported them while they built their business. Diane told me that there was a 2-bedroom apartment above one of the barrel rooms, occupied by her son Michael, and that I would be welcome to stay in the apartment if I was interested in participating in the event. I was thrilled…not only with the opportunity and exposure for my company but also for the chance to get away for a few days and do something out of the ordinary.