I think I miss your smile the most. You had the most perfect smile ever. Seriously, your smile could be on a box of toothpaste. And, in retrospect toothpaste-smile-model maybe would have been a better vocation for you. Cause then Libya would have never happened to you. And you'd be here in my kitchen smiling away. Like this picture.
But my thoughts quickly go from missing your smile to missing your laugh. Maybe it's your laugh that I miss most. Your crazy booming infectious laugh. I loved when you laughed and I couldn't help but to laugh with you. No one could resist laughing with you. I was trying to explain who you were to someone the other day. And when asked what we had in common I said "nothing! We just liked to laugh together. Laugh and drink too much together".
But thinking of you laughing is synonymous with your story telling. You told the best story's. Your voice would start soft and would get louder at the crux of the story. You had the ability to tell stories about yourself, and relive them as you were telling it. You could tell it in such a way that I would live it too, with you. And then you would laugh. And I would laugh. Your laugh was better than a shot of tequila. And I loved getting drunk on it.
Looking at this picture though, I think I miss the way your shirt fell across your shoulders and chest. Maybe the way your shirt fit is what I miss most. It's just that under that shirt and under your chest and under your muscle and under your ribs is where your heart was. I want so badly for you to hug me the way you did, so I can feel your heart beating in my own chest again. I have a weak heart. I often thought when being hugged/smothered by you, that if my heart every did give out, yours would beat strong enough for the both of us.
I will be honest your eyes and ears never really did it for me. I know your eyes are what made you such a successful SEAL Snipper with their pin point accuracy. And I liked looking into your eyes but not because your eyes themselves were much to write home about. I liked looking in your eyes because I could see the whole of you in your eyes. I guess we did have things in common; we both wore our entire selves in our eyes, and not everybody does that. I don't like looking people in the eye because of it. I like some privacy. But you looked everyone in the eye. You had nothing to hide.
Chad left your ski bag here at my house last week and the first moment I got to myself, when the kids went to school, I ran down the stairs, into the storage room and tore into your bag. I miss your smell and wanted to see if it was still in your clothes. You told me once that the olfactory sense in the human body is the most powerful of all the senses. This was information you went crazy for. You tried your whole life to hone your sense of smell. You smelled everything. I remember you came home from some sort of deployment and we met up for breakfast at the mouth of the canyons. You walked in and did your usual strangle/hug me thing and then started smelling me. You obsessively smelled my hair and then embarrassing sniffing moments later, you finally said "finesse? In the little blue bottle?". Your smell was mostly gone from your ski clothes already expect for your hat. I could smell your breath in it. I just sat on the floor and cried and smelled your hat and thought, G was right, it was finesse shampoo and Olfactory is the most powerful sense.
Last year about this time, Tim was in a terrible dirt bike accident. He broke among other things; his pelvis in 3 places, 3 ribs, puncture and deflated his lung and broke off part of his femur. He was in a lot of pain. He suffered at home for a week, but managed to get to work every morning. Finally he went to our doctor. The doctor called an ambulance and sent him straight to the trauma center at the IMC hospital. While we were in triage the nurses gave Tim several shots of pain killing meds which he had a reaction with. His blood pressure dropped to 80 over 60 or something bad like that. At any rate, a crash cart came in with doctors and nurses and alarms sounding and things started happening very fast, but time was standing still as well. I thought I was loosing my love. The doctors, thankfully got everything under control and Tim stabilized. But my mental state at witnessing the whole thing never really did get right. Tim stayed in Trauma at IMC for 4 days and my nights were lonely. I chatted with you online about Tim's accident and recovery and the blood pressure drop thingy too. I told you how shaken up I was about the whole thing. I told you if I lost my love, I would need you to come here and put me back together. You committed to this without any hesitation.
So when you died, after my initial devastation of loosing you, one of my random thoughts was; what if Tim dies too? I will completely fall apart and no one will be able to put anything back together because you're gone. I know this is crazy, but let me finish.
Today Tim is back country skiing. I don't like it. I worry about the back country especially in the spring. But when he dressed today, he busted out your green belt and put it on his ski pants. The belt that you paired with the, now famous, white ski pants. And I could hear you in my head, "Don't worry Annie, I've got this. Nothing bad is going to happen to him or you. Not now. Not on my watch".
I miss a lot of you Glen but, I don't miss your voice. Your voice has been right here, in my head, the whole time. It's never left me.
You have never left me.
I love you so much G. Love you so much too.
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