Kevin
Just over a week after getting out of the hospital, I woke up with the feeling that something was wrong. It only took me a few seconds to realize what it was.
It was June seventeenth. My wedding anniversary. And I was alone.
Of course, I wasn’t literally alone. When I opened my eyes, I saw Nick standing next to my bed, his hair sticking out in all different directions. “Hey,” he said in a low voice that was still gravelly from sleep. “Ready to turn?”
“Yeah,” I croaked back. I wondered if he had realized what day it was. If he did, he didn’t acknowledge it.
After he rolled me over, I closed my eyes and tried to return to my dreams, the only place where I could still see Kristin. Instead, I lay awake, tears leaking out from under my eyelids.
I usually looked forward to getting out of bed and into my chair, but for once, I wished I could just sleep the day away. For a moment, I even considered calling Sam and telling her not to come over before I remembered it was a bowel program day. If I didn’t stick to my schedule, I was likely to have an accident later. The last thing I wanted was for Nick to have to clean up after me again.
Sam arrived right on time, wearing her rainbow scrubs and equally bright smile. “Good morning!” she chirped, pulling back the drapes to let the sunlight in.
“Morning,” I grunted back. Gazing out my balcony door, I saw that the sky was a dull, cloudy gray. Not only did it match my mood, but it also reminded me of my wedding day. Kristin and I had said our vows under a canopy of clouds just like that.
“You seem kinda down today,” Sam commented as she carried out my morning routine. “Is everything okay?”
We usually made small talk while she helped me stretch and get ready for the day, but I was quiet and moody that morning, responding in as few words as possible. “It’s my anniversary,” I replied flatly.
“Oh…” Her face fell. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” I felt sorry for myself. Eight years ago, I had jumped out of bed with butterflies in my stomach, excited to marry the love of my life. I’d gotten ready alongside my brothers, putting on the beige tuxedo Kristin had helped me pick out. Now I lay naked on my bed while the woman I paid to help me take a shit and shower put the clothes on my paralyzed body.
“What do you wanna wear today?” Sam asked after transferring me back to the bed.
“I don’t care. I’m not doing anything special.”
She went into the closet and came out with a pair of comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. “Is this okay?”
“Sure. I told you I don’t care.” As she put on my underwear, picking up my feet to ease them through the leg holes, I looked past her, the open closet door catching my eye. I pictured the racks full of Kristin’s clothes, which were just collecting dust, unworn for more than six months now. Maybe today was the day I would finally work up the courage to clean out the closet.
When I went downstairs, I found both Nick and AJ in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the big Southern breakfast they had prepared. “Wow,” I said, my eyes widening as I looked at the table, which was piled high with plates of sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs, and hash browns. “This looks delicious.”
“I know I’m supposed to be dieting,” Nick said with a guilty grin as he put a biscuit on my plate and ladled sausage gravy over the top. “But I’m allowed a cheat day every once in a while, right?”
“I won’t tell,” I said with a wink. “What possessed y’all to make all this?”
AJ exchanged glances with Nick. “We thought you could use a pick-me-up this morning.”
Nick nodded. “Yeah… I dunno if it’s right to say ‘happy anniversary,’ but we wanted to do something to acknowledge it.”
A hard lump swelled in my throat as tears sprang to my eyes. “Thanks, fellas,” I whispered, touched by their thoughtfulness.
“You wanna stay for breakfast, Sam?” asked AJ as he poured us glasses of orange juice.
“Oh, no, thanks,” Sam replied, smiling. “It looks great, but I’ve actually gotta get going. I’m meeting a friend for a hike.”
“That sounds nice,” I said enviously, glancing out the kitchen window. The morning clouds had burned off, revealing a clear blue sky. The high was supposed to be in the low seventies that afternoon – too cool to swim, but perfect weather for hiking in the hills. I wished I could go on one more hike with Kristin, feel the burn in my legs and the warmth of her hand in mine as we climbed. Standing on a cliff high above the city, looking down at the valley below, I had always felt like I was on top of the world. I would never get that feeling again from a wheelchair.
“Enjoy your breakfast,” said Sam. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I nodded, feeling the next day couldn’t come soon enough. I was eager to put this one – my first anniversary without my wife – behind me. But I knew there would be other hard days ahead, other anniversaries, birthdays, and holidays. As a matter of fact, Mason was turning one in less than three weeks. I had decided to fly my mom and Kristin’s parents out to celebrate, knowing Kristin would have wanted to throw a big family party for our baby’s first birthday. But I wasn’t looking forward to hosting it without her.
Ater Sam left, AJ helped me strap on the wrist cuffs I used to hold my utensils while Nick put the plate guard on my plate. I wasn’t hungry, but I forced myself to try a few bites of everything they had fixed. It wasn’t as good as my mom’s home cooking, but I appreciated the effort they had put in, so I pretended to enjoy it. “Man, I’m stuffed,” I said, pushing back my plate. “Everything was amazing, but I can’t take another bite.”
Nick frowned at my plate, which was still half full of food. “You barely ate anything.”
I shrugged. “You know me, man. I just don’t eat as much as I used to. Besides, y’all made enough food to feed an army.”
“We may have gone a little overboard,” AJ admitted, laughing as he looked at all the food left on the table.
“It was a nice gesture,” I said, smiling at him.
“We just wanted to make your day a little brighter, bro. If there’s anything else we can do…”
I thought about the day ahead. I could spend it wallowing in darkness, consumed by my grief, or I could do something productive. Picturing the closet upstairs again, I said, “Actually, there is. I think I’m ready to start cleaning out my closet, going through Kristin’s clothes and stuff. Would one of you be willing to help me?”
“I will,” AJ volunteered at once. “We both know I have way better fashion sense than this dipshit.” He grinned at Nick, who rolled his eyes. “He can watch Mason while I help you sort through everything and decide what to keep, what to donate, and what’s worth selling or auctioning off for charity or something.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I replied, feeling a rush of relief. I knew that cleaning out Kristin’s half of our closet would be painful, but it was a necessary part of my healing process. I hoped it would bring me closure.
After we cleared the table and cleaned up the kitchen, AJ went upstairs with me to tackle the closet. “Where do you wanna start?” he asked as we looked around. Thankfully, the walk-in closet was large enough for both of us to fit comfortably, even with me in my wheelchair.
“Let’s start at the top and work our way down,” I suggested. So, AJ cleared Kristin’s top shelf first, taking everything down and setting it on a bench in front of me so I could see and touch it myself.
A hard lump rose in my throat as I poked through boxes of summer clothes that she’d put away for the winter, remembering the vacations we’d taken together and the tours she’d accompanied me on, lazy afternoons spent lounging by the pool and hot, steamy nights dancing at the club. AJ helped me sort everything into three piles: save, donate, or sell. I put most of it into the donation pile.
Another box contained Kristin’s maternity clothes. My eyes filled with tears when I saw the flowy tops and stretchy fabrics, remembering how lovely she had looked in them, her natural beauty enhanced by the pregnancy hormones that made her blonde hair shine and her skin glow. Of course, she had complained about feeling puffy and “fat” as her body changed, but the fact that she was carrying my son inside her swollen belly made her even more beautiful to me. Once Mason was born and she’d lost most of her baby weight, Kristin had packed her maternity wardrobe away to wait until she got pregnant again. We had always planned on having more children. Now we never would.
“We can donate all this, too,” I said, wiping my watery eyes with the back of my hand. “Let it go to women who need it.”
AJ nodded, adding the box to the growing donation pile.
Next, I had him take down all the clothes that were hanging on the rods. In some ways, these were even harder for me to go through, as they were the last things Kristin had worn in the weeks before her death. Seeing the red sweater she’d worn on Christmas Day, I remembered how much fun we’d had celebrating Mason’s first Christmas, playing Santa Claus for the first time as new parents even though we knew our son was too young to understand. “So what if he won’t remember this Christmas?” Kristin had said as we stayed up late, putting together baby toys to place under the tree. “We will, and that’s what matters. We’re making memories, starting new traditions that will grow with him.” The lump returned to my throat as I realized Mason’s first Christmas had been our last one together. I would have to pass on those memories to my son and carry on those traditions by myself.
Some of the articles of clothing still smelled like her. Fresh tears filled my eyes when I found her favorite sweatshirt, an old, oversized gray hoodie with a faded blue star on the front, the logo for her alma mater, Oklahoma City University. Kristin had been wearing that ratty sweatshirt for as long as I had known her and rarely washed it for fear of it falling apart. I raised it to my nose and inhaled the scent of her, then closed my eyes and rubbed my face against the soft fabric. For a second, I could almost pretend I was hugging her again. But without a warm body filling the sweatshirt, it didn’t feel the same. It was nothing but an old sweatshirt, cold and empty. Still, I couldn’t bear to throw it away. “Put this in the save pile,” I told AJ, handing it to him to fold. “Her mom might want it.”
Once we finished sorting the clothing on hangers, we went through the drawers containing Kristin’s socks and underwear, lingerie, loungewear, and workout clothes. It was easier for me to part with most of this, though I kept a few special pieces I had purchased for her tucked away in the bottom drawer.
Then came the shoes, handbags, and accessories. “I dunno what to do with all this stuff,” I said, feeling overwhelmed. “I obviously don’t need any of it, but maybe I should leave it for Susan to look through before I donate any of it. I mean, there’s some nice designer stuff here. She should have first dibs on her daughter’s things, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, dude, whatever you wanna do,” said AJ with a shrug. “There’s no pressure to get rid of everything today. Take your time.”
I nodded. “I’ll see if she wants to go through it when she’s here for Mason’s birthday next month.”
By the time we finished for the day, we had cleared out a large part of the closet. It was weird seeing so much empty space on Kristin’s side, yet it felt oddly fitting. She had left a similar void in my life. There had been a hole in my heart since I’d said goodbye to her at the hospital on the day she died.
Empty spaces fill me up with holes, I sang inside my head as I watched AJ pack the piles of clothing into boxes with tears dripping silently down my cheeks. Never before had I felt the lyrics of that song as deeply as I did now. I’m awake, but my world is half asleep. I pray for this heart to be unbroken, but without you all I’m going to be is… incomplete…
***
The days that followed were a little easier. I tried to keep moving forward and focus on the things I could control, like planning Mason’s first birthday party. I called a local bakery to order a cake. Nick took me to a party store to pick out decorations, then to a toy store to buy presents. I was gradually getting more comfortable with going out in public. When I noticed people staring at me, I reminded myself that they had stared before the accident, too. I never knew if it was because I was in a wheelchair or because I was a Backstreet Boy.
Sam helped me file a formal complaint against Greg with the California Board of Nursing, while Kristin’s father called with an update from the lawyer he’d hired to handle the civil suit against the woman who had hit us. He hoped we would reach a settlement by the end of summer.
In the meantime, I had settled back into a routine. Three days a week, I went to therapy at the rehab center, where I was still working on ways to become more independent. My physical therapist, Charisma, focused on increasing my strength and flexibility, while my occupational therapist, Ellis, taught me tips to help with household tasks, like cooking, cleaning, and taking care of Mason.
Nick had started driving me to rehab center every time instead of trading off with AJ so he could go to the gym and work out with a trainer while I was with my therapists. On the days I didn’t have therapy, we worked out together in my home gym. I would do my stretches and hit the punching bag from my standing frame while Nick ran on the treadmill or lifted weights. After just two weeks of regular exercise, healthy eating, and sobriety, he had already lost five pounds.
Life was looking up for both of us.
Then, five days after my anniversary, Nick’s phone rang during one of our workouts. “It’s Howie,” he said, glancing at it as he jogged. “I should probably get this, huh?”
“Yeah, you should.”
We hadn’t heard much from Howie in the last week. I knew he and his family had rented an RV to take a roadtrip to his dad’s hometown in Georgia for a reunion. I wondered how that had gone. The last time I had talked to him, he’d said his dad was tired but doing well with his cancer treatment.
Nick hopped off the treadmill to take the call. “Hey, Howie,” he answered his phone, still breathing hard. “How’s it goin’?”
Leaning against the tray on the front of my standing frame, I listened closely to his side of the conversation.
“Oh, no…” Nick’s face fell. “I’m sorry to hear that, man…” He turned away from me, pacing back and forth across the room as he continued talking to Howie. “Yeah, I’ll tell them. Okay… Take care, bro. I’ll talk to you soon.”
By the time he hung up and turned around to face me again a few minutes later, I already knew what he was about to tell me.
“Howie’s dad died this morning.”
My heart sank. “Damn…” I didn’t know what else to say. Memories were flooding back into my mind, memories of when my own father had lost his battle with cancer. “How’s he doing?” I finally managed to ask.
Nick shrugged. “I dunno… he sounded like he was holding it together okay, but it’s hard to tell over the phone.”
“Here I thought his dad was doing a little better lately,” I said, shaking my head. I should have known better. My dad had gone downhill quickly, too.
“Yeah, he said they made it to the reunion this past week and had a great time, but his dad took a turn for the worse after they got home. He passed away in his sleep, so at least it was a peaceful way to go.”
I nodded, knowing that didn’t make it any easier for Howie and his family. “Did he say if they’ve made any funeral arrangements yet?”
“They’re still working on it, but he thought it would be sometime this week.”
“I want to go,” I said quietly.
Nick raised his eyebrows. “Really? All the way to Florida?”
To be honest, the thought of traveling for the first time as a quadriplegic terrified me, but I was going to have to face that fear sooner or later. “I feel like I should be there for him the way he was there for me after the accident,” I explained. “Between losing Kristin and my dad, I know what he’s going through. I’ve been there before. Besides, he’s gonna need our support.”
Nick nodded. “Yeah, true. I’m game if you are. I’m sure AJ will wanna go, too. But what about Mason? Do we bring him with us, or…?”
I thought about it. “Maybe Kristin’s mom will want to fly out a week early and stay here with him while we’re gone. If she can’t, I’m sure my mom will. Then you and AJ won’t have to wrangle a baby and a cripple through a crowded airport.” I gave him a wry grin.
“Hey, bro, whatever it takes, we’ll figure it out,” he said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “I’ma go look up flights right now.”
“You mind helping me out of my stander first?” I asked. “I’m starting to get a little light-headed here.”
“Oh, yeah, bro, my bad!” He hurried behind the standing frame and lowered it until I was in a seated position, then loosened the straps and pads that held me in place so he could help me transfer back to my chair.
“I’d like to look at flights, too,” I said as he fastened the strap across my waist. “But first, I guess I better call my mother-in-law and see if she can come babysit for us.”
“No, first we better tell AJ.”
“That too.” I let out a sigh as I followed Nick to find AJ and break the bad news.
Life had been looking up. But it never stayed that way for long.
***