“Jesse! Where’ve you been? I hope you’ve been having some summer fun.”
“How are ya, Hank? It’s been awhile. I’ve missed you guys.”
“What’s new? How are the kids? How’s life been treating you?”
“I’m gonna need a beer first, Hank. So far, this summer has been all about closing chapters.”
Hank reached for a glass, “Closing the right chapters, I hope.”
She sat on a stool and took a sip before the foam could run down the side of the glass.
Hank said, “I’m sorry about your aunt’s passing. I’m sure that’s a difficult chapter to close.”
“Thanks, Hank.” She took another sip. “We’ve had some deaths this summer. Too many funerals.”
Hank stood directly across from her, on the other side of the bar, “I’m sorry, Jesse.” He wiped the bar while trying to think of what to say. “And the other chapters?”
“Will moved out a couple weeks ago. It’s time. I’m excited for him. He’s ready and wanting to be independent. This chapter really sucks, tho, Hank.”
“Whew! I got nothing for ya on that. I could spout off all the cliches about a son leaving, cutting apron strings and the like, but that doesn’t make it any easier. So, how are you holding up?”
“Honestly, my aunt’s passing hit me hard, and that was closely followed by Will moving. For the first time, I seriously considered finding a therapist. A year ago, my doctor had recommended someone for stress and anxiety.” She laughs, “Last year was a cake walk compared to this summer. But, anyway, I kept thinking I’d go through some papers and find the name he’d given me, but then life was coming at me real fast. Another passing, some more family stuff…” She reached for her glass, “I’d come home from the office, have a meal with Jen, and retreat to the garden.”
Hank nodded, “The calm spot in the storm?”
“Exactly. I couldn’t write. I could barely read. I managed to cook a couple meals and go to the office and that’s about it. Now, here we are, the end of July, and I’ve yet to make an appointment with a therapist, but my yard and garden look the best they’ve looked in the 12 years we’ve lived there. I feel this compulsion to be working in the yard every day. I keep apologizing to Jen, for spending so much time out there.”
Hank asked, “How’s Jen doing with all these closing chapters?”
“Art is her garden. She is consumed with her drawing and painting. I’m so thankful that art is her refuge.”
“When you are working in the yard, what goes through your mind?”
She laughs, “Everything and nothing. I started out with a lot of questions. ‘Why now? Why this person?’ And then, ‘Is he prepared to be on his own?’ I wallowed in the pissed-off phase. ‘Why me? Just how much am I supposed to handle?’ Slowly, the thoughts morphed into, ‘Hello, Jesse! This isn’t about you.’ I thought a lot about reinvention and what that means. I got pissed off, again, at the Universe because it seems like all I do is reinvent, and then I realized that’s what this journey is about – reinvention.”
Hank smiled, “I recognize some of those thoughts.”
“I reminded myself of the stuff about young men and how it’s supposed to be difficult right before they leave.”
“Right! Or they’d never leave!” Hank washed bar glasses as he listened.
“I reminded myself that my aunt was far better off now than she’d been the last couple years.”
“And did that help?”
“I suppose those thoughts are part of the process, but they didn’t help as much as planting, pulling weeds, moving soil, cutting grass, trimming trees and sweating. Those things finally got me out of my head and moving.” She laughed, “Now I’m starting to worry about what I’ll do for therapy come winter.”
He said, “Maybe you won’t need any therapy come winter.”
They both laughed.
“You know,” she said, “this morning that song by 38 Special was stuck in my head – Hold On Loosely.”
Hank grinned, “That’s always been a favorite.”
Jesse said, “I haven’t heard that one in a while. Then, this afternoon, Jen and I were on our way to the store and it came on the radio.”
Hank reached for her empty glass, “That song fits except for the part about, ‘Don’t let go.'”
Jesse got up from her stool, “No kidding.”
