I deliberately haven't been posting stuff like this very often. There's a FB page for guys like me where we can post this kind of thing and not be self conscious about it. But my friends often ask me how I'm doing. I say: "I'm getting by, day by day." Here's the truth.
27 years together. In all that time, there were very few days that we didn't talk.
When I was on the road, for music shows or pool tournaments or whatever, Joann was here, working on the ranch and working at her job in town. When I stayed in West Yellowstone all summer, working at the guest ranch there or doing gigs around the area, Joann was here, taking care of my house, picking the raspberries and taking care of my cats.
At a roundup camp in Nevada, I had to hike over a half mile up a ridge to find phone service so we only talked three or four times a week that month. At the first hunting camp I cooked for, we were there in pickups so when I got into trouble with whatever I was trying to cook, I'd get in my truck and drive the 12 miles to where the phone would work and she'd talk me through my issue. Same kind of thing when I was cooking at Parade Rest Ranch in West Yellowstone. One time, she talked me, step by step, through making a french silk pie.
When I was cooking for a hunting camp a four hour horseback ride into the mountains, there just
wasn't phone contact. So, during the day, when I thought of something I'd like to tell her, I'd write it down. When the outfitter had to go to town for something, I'd give him my notes to Joann. He teased me about his having to deliver my "love letters".
Now, my phone rarely rings. She's not there to talk with. I've always been a loner type. I liked being by myself, camping, hiking, driving...I liked those long trips by myself. But Joann was here. Just a phone call away.
When my transmission quit in Boise, Idaho and I was trying to figure out how to even get home, let alone make all the shows I had lined up, she just said: "You can't cancel that tour" and paid for a new transmission for me.
The other day, I was driving into Helena for something and noticed that my right hand was hanging across the console. But there was no knee to put my hand on. No other hand to hold mine.
It's been 131 days now since she gasped out her last breath, in our bed in my house. The same bed I try to sleep in today. The couch is empty where she used to sit. The passenger side of my car is an echoing silent empty space. So is my life and I don't foresee it being any better any time soon.
For me, life is now a long cold empty frozen trail on which I just have to keep on walking.
I'm going to a cowboy poetry gathering in Rexburg, Idaho next month, about a three hour drive. I'm kind of anxious about being that far away from my "safe space". But, I'm going. I haven't seen my performer friends for over two years now, since she had her stroke, and I want to...but I don't want to. I'll sing songs and perform poetry. I'll be in jam sessions, probably laugh and talk with friends. But, with all those people around me, I'll be alone. I used to call her from these things and she could listen to the jam sessions or I'd pass the phone around and she'd talk with our friends. Now, I'm alone.
Just taking one step at a time, forward across the frozen wasteland. Maybe, if I just keep on going, it'll get a little better. The only thing that keeps my feet moving is the sure certainty that, on the other side, she waits for me in the sunshine and gentle breezes of the mountains where we belong. Maybe we can ride again, her on Poppy and me on Opie. We'll ride side by side, holding hands, like we used to.
"I imagine
There aren't any fences in heaven
It's all just open range
Without having to open a gate
No broken wires to splice
And no overtightend gates to fight
It doesn't matter where the cattle graze
Water holes and creeks never dry up
And good hands can ride all day
Without having to get out of the saddle
I imagine
There aren't any fences in heaven
Nor blizzards, droughts, or hailstorms
No freezing temperatures or skyrocketing heat, no markets to dread or notes to pay
Just blue skies, wildflowers, and a few drizzly days
I imagine
You up there, tending to God's cattle
Riding your favorite horse, Poppy
Enjoying the peace and the beauty
Far beyond what I can dream of
You've reached the promised land, cowgirl
We'll keep the fences
Mended down here"
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