West Coast.

It's been 4 weeks since Tim passed. It seems like such a long and such a short time. I've decided to post this blog every Wednesday, in his memory, since he passed away on Wednesday morning, August 14th.
Tim and I met in April 2011, while both working in the motorcycle industry. We knew each other through phone calls and emails prior to meeting in person, and honestly didn't like each other. He thought I was some middle-aged shrew, and I thought he was an arrogant, annoying salesman. And then we met, and that changed in a blink of an eye. It was like a freight train of emotion when we shook hands- I thought that if this were a Disney movie, my eyes would be like little hearts popping out of my head, and I would be spinning in circles in love. I sort of acted like a little school girl. Wearing his jacket when I was cold. Finding every excuse in the book to go talk to him. Staying out late on a "work night" so I could talk to him for every second I could. I remember after that first weekend of meeting Tim, I saw my friend Rachel a few days later. She asked bluntly, "What's wrong with you? Why do you have such a big goofy grin on your face?" I think at that point, I did do a little spin of love, and shouted, "Because I met someone pretty awesome!"
Our first "real date" was a whole weekend of fun the next month, when I flew out to the West Coast to see him. When I got off the plane, I had a moment of panic, like "What the hell am I doing?! I just flew across the US to hang out with someone I have only known for a month!"  As I came down the escalator, and he was waiting there with a nervous smile on his face, and his baby blue Johnny Cupcakes shirt, I knew there was no reason for a freakout. There was no reason to not feel safe. There was no reason to be anything but excited, happy, anxious, and elated to be there. We did some really fun things that weekend, but Disneyland topped the cake. If you know me, you know that I LOVE Disney. Basically a homerun for Tim. It was pretty much the most awesome first date weekend ever.

 

 Most people have been asking me, "So what are you doing now? Are you going to move back to Ohio?" Though I love Ohio, and my wonderful family and amazing friends live there, it would be devastating to me to move back to Ohio (Sorry, Mom! I love you).  To me, it would feel like I had this really amazing dream, and then this horrible nightmare, and then I woke up in my bed back in Ohio. It wouldn't feel like I was ever here. It wouldn't feel like Tim was real. I have to stay here to be close to him, to be close to us, to be close to our happy and lovely memories. I have to stay here to continue his fight, to continue doing things that he loved to do, to continue honoring his life and memory. Besides, it's not a bad place to be. San Diego is basically the producer of the world's sunshine. Plus, Sophie would be pissed if she didn't have a real ocean to play in.
Tim and I would play this song below all the time, and write some of the lyrics back and forth to each other. A year and a half of our dating was long distance, and it revolved around airports. Currently, I get very emotional when I have to pick up someone from the airport or drop them off. My friend Nancy arrived last weekend, and I held back tears the whole time driving up to the terminal. It's just a pain through the heart since Tim and I saw each other so often through airports-the airport is both the happiest, and the saddest place that exists. We would never pick each other up or drop each other off at the curb. Our hellos and goodbyes were always at the security gate. That moment seeing him for the first time in the airport when I came down the escalator is something that I will never forget. I will never forget how my heart skipped. How my face smiled. How my eyes lit up. We actually buried him in that baby blue shirt, and seeing him in it one last time was such a surreal and bittersweet moment. That one shirt had such a special meaning to me, and I'm glad he's wearing it wherever he is right now.
When I came out to visit Tim a year ago after he was diagnosed, he was standing in line with me before the security checkpoint, and he said to me, "I don't want you to leave. I need you to be here with me. I can't do this without you. I need you." I replied, "My bags are already packed", and I moved here a month later.

Coconut Records- West Coast

For a second there I thought you disappeared
It rains a lot this time of year
And we both go together if one falls down
I talk out loud like you're still around
And I miss you
I'm going back home to the west coast
I wish you would put yourself in my suitcase
I love you
Standing all alone in a black coat
I miss you
I'm going back home to the west coast

 And if you shake her heart enough she will appear
Tonight I think I'll be staying here
And you never did like this town
I talk out loud like you're still around

And I miss you
I'm going back home to the west coast
I wish you would put yourself in my suitcase
I love you
Standing all alone in a black coat
I miss you
I'm going back home to the west coast

So pack up the bags to beat back the clock
Do I let her sleep or should I wake her up
You said
We both go together if one falls down
 I talk out loud like you're still around

And I miss you
I m going back home to the west coast
I wish you would put yourself in my suitcase
I love you
Standing all alone in a black coat
I miss you
I'm going back home to the west coast