Tag Archives: love

I just came to say: goodbye, love.

The dawn is less bright today. You might think that is because I saw the sun come up over soggy England but, no. This is the first sunrise without Andrew in it.

I first encountered Andrew through Frenzi, a mailing list centred around a group of folks in the bay area who all share a hobby. I met a lot of brilliant, witty, argumentative, wise, and patient people through there. Of course there were a lot of dipshits too.

Andrew was the first person to flame me on the internet. To be fair I had told him that I was surprised that I was never attacked because I felt like I often expressed contrary/unpopular opinions. So he taught me what it felt like to be flamed. Ouch. I learned an important lesson: Andrew was as painfully literal as I am. If you say/imply you want something he will make it happen if he possibly can.

I think I first actually spoke to Andrew and Paula at a birthday party for a friend. I am pretty sure that was my first time ever going to a Thai restaurant and I completely fell in love with the food and the company of the people I was lucky enough to sit next to. Specifically: Paula. She was so kind and gentle. It surprised me that someone as gentle and carefully considered was suited to be married to someone as prickly as Andrew. Later I came to understand how they complemented each other.

When I first moved out of living with Tom things were scary for a while. I was not sure how I was going to pay my bills and still have money for food. Andrew told me that he would absolutely not accept me going without food and if I was that skint I needed to let him know and he would make sure I ate.

With my background of poverty and periodic starving because my mother could not afford food at all he seemed absolutely unbelievable. Why would he care?

I feel like that was one of the overarching story arcs of our relationship. I have never really understood why he cared so much about me. He frequently made offers of support and love and affection and I didn’t know how to accept them. He was also very free with his opinion and he was often insightful and hilarious. One memorable time he found out who I had started dating and he said, “Oh Krissy, dump him. He’s not smart enough for you and you are going to get so bored.” He was right on the money. He loved Noah for me.

Paula helped finish the walls in my garage in Fremont. Andrew helped paint the ceiling. It made me so happy looking at that ceiling for years knowing that Andrew helped. I could feel his (and Paula’s and Taylor’s because T did soooooo much on that project with me) love surrounding me. Co-working has always been my strongest love language.

Andrew introduced me to books and told me about movies I should watch. He was very annoyed he could never get me to juggle.

We had a big falling out around my 30th birthday. We both did things that hurt the other quite badly. One of the things that I am most grateful for in this life was the chance to try once then a second time to repair the damage from that situation.

Andrew forgave me for being selfish and stupid and cruel. That was a gift he did not owe me. I am lucky that I got to have him in my life for decades. I got to have closure on talking through a situation that hurt me deeply and he felt truly contrite and loving and apologetic. He showed me how to repair a deep wound. Not very many people have been able to manifest that complete journey with me in my life. Andrew was *special*.

I am grateful to the marrow of my bones that I went and saw him twice this year. I loved helping him drive the boat and operate the locks on the canal. He told me that I learned how to drive the boat unusually quickly–he felt confident enough to just leave me alone with it after just a couple of hours of supervision. I felt elated through and through. Like me he wasn’t the sort to hand out unwarranted compliments. I had to have a stern chat with him about why I set the boundaries with my neurodiverse children where I do and he took that on and manifestly started following my rules. I felt respected.

I feel like that is the core. That is the core of what Andrew gave me: he saw me and treated me like someone he respected deeply. I met him at a time in my life when I had not experienced very much of that.

No one is perfect. But Andrew was perfectly wonderful and I am so grateful that I got to have him for so long. Here in the end he is even leaving me an extra gift. I may not be able to say goodbye to him, but he asked me to come to the bay and as a result I will get a lot of love and support from other people who have known him and loved him for as long or longer than me.

It is very hard carrying grief alone. Being able to share grief lightens the burden and helps everyone remember that no one fully dies until everyone who knows and loves them is gone. Andrew’s spirit is going to live on for a long, long, long time.

What does it mean to belong?

I reach for your hand, your voice, your heart, your screen name.
I want to know who you are, I want to see if we are the same.
In you I see the echo of the love, the pain, the joy I feel.
With you I manage to feel like I might be real.

I wish I didn't need you.
I wish I didn't still want to see you.
I wish I could be with you.

No matter what happens you will always be mine.
We will be connected until the end of our time.

I have touched your soul and you have touched mine and that is all it takes to belong.

Ghosts and Gaelic

I have started studying Scots Gaelic on Duolingo. So far I can pick out grammar a little bit and I can recognize words in writing. I’m pretty sure my pronunciation is shit and any person who actually speaks it would be annoyed at hearing my butchery. But I’m trying.

It’s a little odd unpacking our stuff. I have a really strong sense of “stuff” being tied to people. When I touch an item I am flooded with memories of the people I have seen use something, how I got it, why it is connected to someone I have loved. We pretty much only mailed stuff that had sentimental attachment. That’s… complicated.

I have a lot of the books that Sarah loved during childhood. She didn’t come and get them after the breakup and I couldn’t handle getting rid of them in a way that felt disrespectful. So I shipped them across an ocean. You know how I had tons of Wonderland stuff? Sarah was the one who was into Alice. All of the tea stuff I shipped… reminds me of her. There is a bunch of art stuff she made with the kids. And still we use backpacks and bags from her. My jewelry box was hers.

Taylor made my absolute favorite blanket.

My mother and Jenny’s mother made the baby blankets we shipped.

I have a photograph that Michael Blue took and I can’t get rid of it and I can’t display it.

I have hair stuff from Kira. I remember her voice reading a lot of the board books we own.

I have baby dresses and a mink stole from my mother/great grandmother.

I have a toddler tank top from Mikey and Katie’s wedding.

I have a vase from Francesca.

I have books from Lee.

I have a Ganesha from Mollena.

I have pictures of people who have been important to me. Thousands of pictures. Ethan and Kevin and Joey and Talia and Michelle and Ian-before-he was Ian. I have pictures of my friends with my children. I have pictures of my friends laughing and having fun. I have pictures of hobbies and activities I will never do again. Many of my friends were lovely and they gave me pictures of them from their childhoods.

The snow globe I was given as a thank you for marrying Michael and Erin.

Presents from Noah’s family. The wedding present his college ex-girlfriend made and gave to us. All of the dishes that were hand made by his aunt (a nice lady; we always make sure we stop in to see her when we come to Texas).

Love does not die with the dissolution of a relationship. Connections do not end even when you attempt to sever them. I am made up of fragments of a thousand different people.

The necklace from Stephan when he thought I was to be his wife.

The bracelets and ring from Tom when he wanted me to feel like his possession.

The things that my children and Noah have given me.

I don’t feel like a person made individual. I feel like an amalgam. I feel like the final result of a group project. I feel like I am so much more than just one thing.

The lip balm handmade by Jami. I’m not quite done with it all yet.

The warm things that Jenny made and gave to my family to help us adjust to the climate. (It’s been a warm winter so far! We’ve barely worn it!)

Items purchased at Saturday market with Ali. Or the other Saturday market that I first showed to Lee.

So so so much purchased with my children. I remember their consultation, “Yes that’s the right one for us.”

Despite the rancor and sadness and bitterness that have been part of some of these partings, I choose to take with me the love. I have been so loved. Bailey told me that people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Even when the season or the reason has passed for many of these relationships that doesn’t stop the love or the lessons I can choose to learn from them. I can be more because of all these little fragments of love.

The hole in my back is feeling a lot better. It is on the road to healing. The depression and anxiety I have felt all of my life is healing. It’s not that I will always be happy or always feel good–that’s not realistic. It’s time to settle in and start building things and making things in this place. It’s time to make manifest what is in my soul.

I am beautiful. Is it bad that I know this because of the reflections I see in all of these tiny little mirrors? You love me. You love me. You love me. You love me. You love me. You love me. I am a Velveteen rabbit. I am real, I am beautiful, I am whole because you loved me.