Memories
Thinking about Steve this evening, I recalled something that happened a little less than a month before he died. It seemed insignificant at the time, but in retrospect, it haunts me.
Steve, Jacquelin, and I had signed up for a Wednesday-evening yoga class that met near the office building where I worked at the time. The class began in mid-January, and on the evening of the first class, Steve and Jacquelin picked me up at the office so that we could all go together. I had neglected to bring a change of clothes, so we first had to go to a nearby shopping center so that I could pick up some yoga-suitable clothes from Old Navy. Steve was driving. Traffic was bad, and he became a bit stressed out and irritable. As we pulled into the shopping center parking lot, Jacquelin tried to tell him which direction to go, and he snapped at her. I was taken aback, as this was the first (and only) time I had ever heard him snap at her. Steve adored Jacquelin, and I never saw them argue.
Jacquelin waited in the car while Steve and I went inside to find an outfit for me. Steve was still irritable while we shopped, and so I made an attempt to smooth things over. As we stood in the checkout line, I asked him what was going on, and he explained that he was frustrated because ever since Jacquelin had been in a nasty car accident the previous year, she no longer liked to drive, so he now did the majority of the driving. He told me that even as a passenger, she was still nervous in the car and had developed a habit of "backseat driving," which got on his nerves. He understood, of course, and was sympathetic to the fact that she was still dealing with the trauma of her accident; he was just frustrated. It was a minor issue in the grand scheme of things. Steve loved Jacquelin so very much, and would do anything for her. He admitted to me that he knew he was overreacting, and that the heavy traffic that evening had put him on edge. I remember feeling guilty because if I'd remembered to bring a change of clothes, the incident might have been avoided.
What I told him next has stuck with me. Doing my best to soothe his frustration, I gave him sort of a "don't sweat the small stuff" speech and told him that life is too short to get bent out of shape over minor trivialities. I told him that I knew how much he loved Jacquelin, and how much she loved him, and reminded him that none of us knows how much time we have, so we should do our best to make the most positive use of it. I told him to focus on all of the things he loved about her, because God forbid one of them should die tomorrow, and their last evening together had been spent bickering over something that didn't really matter.
I had no idea at the time that Steve would, in fact, die within weeks of that conversation. Life is very strange.
As for the remainder of that evening, we all felt much better after an hour of yoga, and then we went out for dinner, and all was well.
Steve, Jacquelin, and I had signed up for a Wednesday-evening yoga class that met near the office building where I worked at the time. The class began in mid-January, and on the evening of the first class, Steve and Jacquelin picked me up at the office so that we could all go together. I had neglected to bring a change of clothes, so we first had to go to a nearby shopping center so that I could pick up some yoga-suitable clothes from Old Navy. Steve was driving. Traffic was bad, and he became a bit stressed out and irritable. As we pulled into the shopping center parking lot, Jacquelin tried to tell him which direction to go, and he snapped at her. I was taken aback, as this was the first (and only) time I had ever heard him snap at her. Steve adored Jacquelin, and I never saw them argue.
Jacquelin waited in the car while Steve and I went inside to find an outfit for me. Steve was still irritable while we shopped, and so I made an attempt to smooth things over. As we stood in the checkout line, I asked him what was going on, and he explained that he was frustrated because ever since Jacquelin had been in a nasty car accident the previous year, she no longer liked to drive, so he now did the majority of the driving. He told me that even as a passenger, she was still nervous in the car and had developed a habit of "backseat driving," which got on his nerves. He understood, of course, and was sympathetic to the fact that she was still dealing with the trauma of her accident; he was just frustrated. It was a minor issue in the grand scheme of things. Steve loved Jacquelin so very much, and would do anything for her. He admitted to me that he knew he was overreacting, and that the heavy traffic that evening had put him on edge. I remember feeling guilty because if I'd remembered to bring a change of clothes, the incident might have been avoided.
What I told him next has stuck with me. Doing my best to soothe his frustration, I gave him sort of a "don't sweat the small stuff" speech and told him that life is too short to get bent out of shape over minor trivialities. I told him that I knew how much he loved Jacquelin, and how much she loved him, and reminded him that none of us knows how much time we have, so we should do our best to make the most positive use of it. I told him to focus on all of the things he loved about her, because God forbid one of them should die tomorrow, and their last evening together had been spent bickering over something that didn't really matter.
I had no idea at the time that Steve would, in fact, die within weeks of that conversation. Life is very strange.
As for the remainder of that evening, we all felt much better after an hour of yoga, and then we went out for dinner, and all was well.
posted by Catherine at 11:55 PM
2 Comments:
I hate anniversaries of deaths. I'm not going to say anything sappy, how is that?
Thanks, Wino. :)
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