by Utt, Kelly
I haven’t gone back to see Dr. Epstein either. Not since the day before Will was born and John Wendell died. The doc called a few times to follow up, but I never called him back to schedule another appointment. Judging by where we left off, I’m guessing he thinks I’m mentally ill. He and I were developing a good rapport before I told him I remembered having lived in Ancient Greece after the hypnosis session he facilitated. He was talking about unresolved grief from Dad dying and then guiding me to remember events from childhood when I spontaneously went further back. I knew at the time I should probably keep my mouth shut about the extent of what I remembered, but I was overwhelmed and let it out while reporting on what I saw.
The way he responded made me angry. I’m not sure exactly which disorder he thinks I have, but I don’t appreciate being talked down to like that. There’s nothing wrong with my mind. At least I don’t think so. I mean, where do we even draw those lines? I realize the mental health community relies heavily on the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual to diagnose mental disorders, but I remember hearing somewhere how homosexuality used to be considered a mental disorder, complete with its own spot in the DSM. We now know that’s absurd. I’ve also heard how psychology is a young science. It seems likely that at least some of the human experiences we place in the realm of mental disorders today will eventually end up classified as normal.
Marjorie mentioned something about new developments in quantum physics lending support to the idea that our consciousness creates physical reality rather than the other way around. I’ve been intending to do some research and really dig into that material. I haven’t done it yet though. I should make a to-do list.
I spend a decent amount of time thinking about our lives together in Ancient Greece. My hypnosis session left me with quite a bit of information, yet not nearly enough. Some of what I know is specific, while other parts are more general. Like how I knew where I was and approximately what period of history I was in when I landed in the memory. That washed over me in a wave of general knowing. Other parts were revealed slowly and with more detail. It was kind of like opening a package and taking things out layer by layer in an effort to understand what’s inside. How can an entire lifetime be remembered in a matter of minutes though? I suspect there’s so much more.
I wonder why I wasn’t supposed to be with Ali back then. I understand the social class thing, but when it comes to our personal situations, I’m not so sure the explanation is that simple. Couldn’t someone have approved our union? I wonder who else from this life was involved in ancient times. And I’m very curious about who made the decision to send Ali and baby Ethan out of the city. If Ali and our son had been able to stay inside the boundaries of the city, no harm would have come to them. At least I don’t think it would have. What motivation did the pillagers have to take and kill my son anyway? That’s hardcore, gut-wrenching history of the worst kind. There must have been more to the story. Especially if they came at us again in this lifetime with the break-in and abduction attempt. I’m compelled to know more.
Though, deep down, I’m afraid to know more. A part of me feels like maybe avoiding it will make it all go away. So, for the time being, I mostly try to focus on more positive things over which I have some measure of control. That’s a key step for alcoholics, mentioned in the serenity prayer. A buddy of mine in Officer Candidate School was a recovering alcoholic. He kept it quiet, but we became close enough that he eventually told me some stories about his own learning and growth. I figure it’s good life advice for us all to accept the things we cannot change, have the courage to change the things we can, and have the wisdom to know the difference. I’m moving through things the best I can. I’m grateful to have a lot of positive in my life to focus on.
In fact, now that Will is old enough to travel reasonably well, we’re going away for a little while. We’ll enjoy the party tonight, then will allow a rest day at home tomorrow to recover and finish packing. On the day after tomorrow, my little family plus Liam, Roddy, and Marjorie will all head to Lake Tahoe for a two-week long vacation. We’ll fly into Reno and enjoy a nice lunch before renting two vehicles and making the drive over the mountain. None of us have been to Tahoe before, so it will be a brand new adventure. I realize it will be hot this time of year, but we can dip into the crystal-clear waters of the lake to cool off. Besides, after living in D.C. for so many years and experiencing the hot, muggy summers there, I don’t expect the dry heat out West to bother me.
We’re renting a huge waterfront mansion in South Lake Tahoe that boasts a private pool, dock, and beach right on the property. It’s going to be amazing. The house isn’t all that far from California’s wine country. And San Francisco isn’t much beyond that. Even Vegas is relatively close. We figure Tahoe will be a good place to home-base while we explore. Maybe we’ll go somewhere else for a few days. I can see us making a long weekend trip to another popular spot in the region. Ali might really enjoy a romantic evening in Napa. Or a festive night out on the Vegas strip. We have a list of attractions we want to check out and things we want to do. This will be the first vacation for the group of us together, but I’m sure my uncle or my in-laws would watch the kiddos so Ali and I could get out for an evening to ourselves if we ask them nicely. There are a myriad of options.
I invited Mom to go with us, too, but she declined. She’ll be at the party tonight, as far as I know, but she’s not a fan of heat or for that matter, vacationing. Staying at home while we travel is probably the best thing for her to do because she would most likely drag the rest of us down. I love Mom, truly, but our relationship has been somewhat strained lately. I’m getting more and more comfortable using my money and as I do, Mom seems more and more uncomfortable with me doing so. She’s convinced the break-in and abduction attempt was because flaunting our wealth made us a target. Her words, not mine. Maybe she’s right, but Ali and I don’t want to be afraid of enjoying our money. It’s not easy for me to relax about being wealthy given the messages I received growing up, but I’m sincerely trying.
I haven’t mentioned my business plans to Mom. The business venture with my uncle is the primary thing I want to spend my money on anyway, and Liam and I will no doubt discuss next steps while we’re in Tahoe. It’s probably better to leave Mom out of that planning process entirely. I intend to fill her in once things are a done deal rather than sharing details of my plans as I’m working to bring them to fruition. It’s much easier that way. When she says something negative or critical, it has an impact on me even though I do my best to maintain perspective and not let her comments get me down. Doing so successfully is harder than it sounds.
Mom hasn’t been herself since John Wendell died. I’m having a difficult time figuring out what’s going on with her. She took an extended leave from her nursing job at the hospital to grieve the loss of her father and contemplate retirement. I thought we’d see more of her now that we live here in town and she has ample free time on her hands, but we really haven’t. Best I can tell, she’s sleeping a lot and staying on the couch watching cable news during her waking hours. She didn’t plant a garden this spring for the first time I can remember. And she hasn’t packed up John Wendell’s room. The house only has two bedrooms. The spare room would serve her better if she removed his bed and donated some of his belongings to put her desk back where it used to be and free up more space for her exercise equipment. I’ve offered to help several times, but each time she’s told me she isn’t ready. I don’t want to push her. I’m beginning to wonder if she’s depressed though. I’m going to talk to Liam about it when he gets here. Maybe the two of us can go over and check on her if she doesn’t show up for the party.
Liam stayed in town several days after John Wendell died and helped Mom move through the difficult tasks that must be undertaken when a loved one passes away. I offered to bear some of the burden myself, but Liam insisted I focus on my newborn baby instead. He said he owed it to his brother to take care of his widow in her time of need. I’m sure gratef
ul. I know Dad would be, too. Liam stayed with Mom at the hospice house until the folks from the crematory showed up to remove John Wendell’s body so that Ali, the boys, and I could get home and into bed. We were exhausted after being up all night for Will’s delivery at the birth center. And Ali was, of course, completely drained after giving birth. Liam took Mom home and stayed with her for the rest of the day. He cooked meals and stocked the freezer, then gave the house a good cleaning so Mom didn’t have to do any mundane chores for at least a little while. When it was time to pick up John Wendell’s ashes, Liam went along and comforted Mom as she held her father’s remains, contained within a small box, in her hands. He helped her plan a memorial service, and he stood by her as she, along with an impressive showing of family and friends, said farewell to a man who was beloved by countless people. We all knew John Wendell was ready to leave this world in favor of the next one and that he had lived a full, meaningful life. But it still hurt to lose him. I’ll never forget what Liam did for my mom at that juncture. For all of us. My uncle is a good and kind man.
I’m sitting on a chair in the living room and holding little Will in my arms when I see my uncle’s big blue truck pull up against the curb out front. I wasn’t sure exactly what time he would arrive, but boy, am I glad to see his smiling face through the window. I quickly shift Will over onto one hip as I stand up so I can greet Uncle Liam and give him a big hug. Will must feel my excitement because he perks up and looks around expectantly to find out what’s happening.
“Liam!” I exclaim as I open the front door and see my uncle standing in the courtyard in front of me. He’s wearing a salmon color boat shirt with khaki shorts, and he’s looking every bit the part of a man ready for vacation. His short, salt-and-pepper hair sparkles in the sun as dark sunglasses frame his face.
“George, buddy!” he replies as he leans in for that hug. “It’s good to see you.”
I hold on to him an extra minute and lean the side of my head hard against his as tears fill my eyes.
“I sure missed you,” I say.
“Same here, buddy,” Uncle Liam replies as he takes one of little Will’s hands in his and smiles down at his great-nephew. “It’s been too long.”
“It sure has,” I reply. “How about we don’t let that happen again?”
“I’m with you on that,” he says. “But be careful what you wish for because soon you won’t be able to get rid of me. We’re ready to hash out those business plans while I’m on leave, right?”
“Absolutely,” I confirm.
I’m glad to hear him say he’s ready. I’m ready, too.
“Look at the red hair on this little guy,” Liam says as he studies Will more closely. “His hair is even brighter in person than it looks it pictures. I dig it.”
“Yep, just like Mom’s and Marjorie’s,” I reply. “He gets it from both sides.”
“Blue eyes, too,” Liam notes.
“I know,” I say. “Red hair and blue eyes are supposed to be the rarest combination in the world. Pretty neat.”
“Let me at this kid,” Liam says as he takes off his sunglasses, then scoops Will up into his arms then lifts him above his head playfully.
Will smiles and babbles in return. He hasn’t seen Liam since he was a few days old, but he apparently knows that Liam is one of his people. Good. He had better.
“Will is a sweetheart,” I add. “Just like his big brothers.”
“I can see that. And where are those big brothers?” Liam asks Will as if he can answer.
We talk to our babies as if they can answer because we believe they are wise spirits who happen to be temporarily stuck inside little bodies with developing brains. Just because their physical capabilities don’t allow for verbal conversation yet doesn’t mean their deeper spiritual selves can’t understand. At a minimum, they seem to feel respected and seen when we acknowledge them in this way. I’m glad Liam understands. He tends to be even more skeptical than I am about things which can’t be seen or touched, but he’s stretching with me. I give him credit for being willing to remain open.
“Come on in,” I say as Liam steps inside and closes the door behind him. The air conditioning in the house seals it tight with a whoosh. “Ethan and Leo and Ali are around here somewhere.”
I call out to my family to let them know Uncle Liam has arrived just as Ali walks downstairs with both little guys and our German Shepherd trailing behind her excitedly.
“We’re here!” Ali says cheerfully.
“Uncle Liam!” Ethan yells as he runs towards us, barely beating Lady to Liam’s side.
Lady seems especially fond of my uncle ever since he helped get her home from the animal hospital after she was shot. I think she’s grateful for the help Liam provided during her time of need. The same goes for Marjorie and Roddy, and, to a lesser extent, our friends Duke and Jen. Recovering from a gunshot wound is a big deal. Our people were there for our Ladygirl in a significant way and she knows it. Animals seem to know more than we typically give them credit for.
Leo follows behind, parroting his big brother, as usual. “Uncle Liam! Uncle Liam!” he exclaims.
Liam squats down with Will on one hip and hugs Ethan and Leo tightly with the other arm as Lady leans against his leg. The boys are already used to packing in as a set of three inside of an adult’s embrace. They don’t seem to mind the snug fit.
“Look at these big guys,” Liam says with a chuckle, continuing to direct his comments to little Will. “Will, baby boy, your brothers are growing up fast on me. What are your parents feeding them?”
“That’s what Papa Roddy always says,” Ethan interjects with a grin. “It’s just regular food. We grow big and strong because we’re healthy boys.”
“Good enough,” Liam says. “It’s always a surprise for your old Uncle Liam to see how fast you’re growing bigger. Papa Roddy probably feels the same way.”
“Yep,” Leo adds, smiling.
“Well,” Liam begins. “I’m going to stay with you for six whole weeks. And before much longer I’ll be living right here in Ithaca near you, so you won’t have time to do any sneaky growing that I don’t know about.”
“Really?” I ask enthusiastically as Ethan and Leo clap and cheer. “Are your plans firm?”
“They are,” Liam says. “I’ll tell everyone all about it tonight at dinner.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you have a big announcement to make?” Ali asks as she takes her turn giving Liam a hug.
“Indeed, I do,” Liam replies with a sly smile.
“My parents say they have a big announcement to make tonight, too,” Ali says. “It should be an evening to remember.”
“I like the sound of that,” I say. “Good things are ahead for this family. I know it.”
“I think you’re right, Georgie,” Ali says as she stands on her toes and gives me a slow kiss on the cheek near my ear. Feeling her soft lips and warm breath on my skin is tantalizing. I can’t get enough of that woman.
Liam stands with Will still on his hip as Ethan and Leo prance off to work on some coloring Ali set out for them on the big wooden farm table in the dining room. I’m surprised they didn’t want to talk with Liam longer, but I suppose it’s good they’re comfortable enough to go about their usual routines while he’s here. They see him as a family member who belongs with us rather than as a guest. Little Will appears to be really enjoying himself with Uncle Liam, too. He’s babbling up a storm and watching Liam’s face like a hawk, eating up every bit of attention directed his way. It’s a happy scene.
Times like this make me wonder if Liam is ever sad about not having little ones of his own. I remember what he said recently about his career and not wanting to leave a wife and kids at home while he was gone traveling with the Air Force, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have regrets. He would have been a fantastic dad.
“So, who’s coming to party with us tonight?” Liam asks.
“Mom and Dad,” Ali replies, “and Nicky and Lu
is and Sara.”
“Nice,” Liam says. “I always enjoy spending time with the Davies crew. I didn’t get much time to hang out with your brother and his family when we were all here for John Wendell’s service, so I’ll be happy to make up for it now.”
“I know and the feeling is mutual,” Ali agrees. “Nicky, Luis, and Sara are staying here at the house overnight, so there will be some time for all of us to spend together.”
“Duke and Jen will be here as well,” I add. “Their wedding is coming up in September. I know they’re excited. They’re holding the big event outdoors with a reception to follow at a historic inn. The whole place has a view of Cayuga Lake and Taughannock Falls. I’m sure it’ll be really nice. And I’m sure they’ll have lots of fun things to talk about tonight related to wedding planning.”
“Yeah,” Liam says, “I received an invite in the mail. Their special day is right before I’m scheduled to report back to D.C., so I can, in fact, attend. I’ll hand-deliver my RSVP tonight.”
“Beautiful,” I say.
“Ali,” Liam inquires. “I’ll count on you to tell me what I should get for Jen and Duke as a gift. I know you know exactly what Jen likes. You’ve been best friends for what, like, ever?”
“That’s right,” I say with a chuckle. “And it’s all about pleasing Jen. Duke is just along for the ride.”
