Groundhog Day

Waking up to the same thing every day; the same bed, the same song playing on the same clock radio at the same time. Every day. And the next day. And the day after that. Bill Murray’s hell.

Right now that would be my heaven. The familiar, the sameness, the knowing what comes next. This single day today, this 21st of February brought with it a sad realization that it was one year ago that my sweet husband went in the hospital. He never got to come home after that. This day brought up difficult emotions that I didn't expect to feel. This anniversary was harder than experiencing things over the past year like births, holidays and special family time. This day was the anniversary of the beginning of the end. What I would give to have a day of sameness and familiarity.

What day would I choose to be my Groundhog Day? The day when we where camping out in the desert quail hunting? The day when just the two of us went to Mexico in the winter and sat on the beach all day watching the dolphins play? The day we smiled so hard our faces hurt as we watched our kids’ wide eyed amazement at Disneyland? The day we walked down the aisle to begin our life together? The day we spent sunning ourselves on the beach in the Mexican Riviera? The day we became parents and realized this was what life was all about for us? Each of the days we spent watching our children walk down the aisle to begin their futures? No, none of those days would be my Groundhog Day.

It would be a regular old Sunday spent doing what we did best. Just being us in the familiarity that makes a long time couple comfortable. I’d get up early to feed the dogs, make coffee and read the paper. Al would get up an hour or so after me and settle in to his recliner where I’d bring him a big, hot cup of coffee and the newspaper. He’d get annoyed when I brought him the paper and it was all mixed up; the Business section before the Sports section or some other nonsense so I’d fix the paper the way he liked it before bringing it to him. While a breakfast of potatoes, bacon and eggs were appreciated what he really enjoyed was when I’d make blueberry muffins. Golf on the big TV for Al, reality TV or some chick flick on the TV in the family room for me. We’d each come check on each other and talk a bit, me checking on him more that him checking on me. There’d be some afternoon snacks, something simple like salami, crackers and cheese and me doing laundry throughout the afternoon. I’d start making dinner in the evening, his favorite chile rellenos and the refried beans he taught me to make when we were first married. Then we’d spend the evening watching TV together, laughing and making fun of the contestants on The Amazing Race. Bedtime would eventually come and we’d kiss goodnight and snuggle for a bit before each turning to get comfortable, me placing my cold feet against his warm calves and we’d fall asleep.

That simple day. That’s the day I would repeat for eternity. But instead I keep waking up to realize he’s gone and I have to do this by myself. My Groundhog Day.

The Navarros represent!

I still had Al a year ago. A year ago I would have been bringing Al a few shrimp and maybe a deviled egg or two, trying to get rid of a few of the Super Bowl leftovers. A year and a day. That’s the last time my family was together outside of the hospital.

Al loved sports and Super Bowl Sunday? Well, that’s a sports lover’s perfect Sunday. For about as long as I can remember we’ve had Super Bowl watching parties. As the years have gone by and people tend to branch off and do their own thing, our party became more about family with a couple of friends dropping in for a bit to hang out for a while.

Al was diagnosed shortly before Super Bowl last year and we all thought there was lots of time. Time for more parties, more vacations, more Christmases, just more. As families do, we all get busy and our lives get complicated. It was unclear whether all my kids would be able to come to the house for the game. But it was my youngest, my Lesley, who said what none of us wanted to think. That this might be the last time we are able to watch the Super Bowl with Al. I don’t know why she said that. After all, he had just barely been diagnosed and we were told his disease was at a mid-level severity. Perhaps something deep inside of Lesley was telling her that we only had a little time left.

So we spent that Sunday together here at the house. There was too much food, lots of yelling and cheering, lots of laughter; all the signs of a family enjoying a favorite pastime together. And that little voice Lesley heard was right. It was the last Super Bowl we’d ever enjoy together as a complete family.

This year game day was a little bittersweet. Super Bowl Sunday has always been a day of fun, food and football but we’d be doing it without Al. I kept busy in the morning by cleaning and cooking and tried not to let myself get down. My daughter Alison on the other hand, was having a difficult time at her house. She was missing her dad and trying to change her mood while she prepared the snacks she’d be bringing to the potluck. She put on her iPod and hit shuffle. A wide variety of songs played when suddenly her iPod changed, seemingly on its own. It went from Shuffle to Dad’s Playlist, a collection of Al’s favorites and songs that reminded Alison of her dad. That can only be looked at as a message from Al to Alison. A message to enjoy the day that has always represented a good time for the Navarros and a message that he’s still with us. And well, to enjoy a bowl of his special recipe Texas Chili that Marshall had perfected and prepared for game day.

And true to form, every single one of us gathered in his living room, watching his big TV and every single one of us were wearing Raiders jerseys & t-shirts. Funny how that just happens.....the Navarros represent!