Years ago, before sitting down to a colorful dinner of paella, the same dish Lois Kozlow served at my wedding, Sue’s daughter sang a song she wrote.
Woke up this morning with a tear in my eye,
So many memories just a passing me by,
Want to see you smile again.
Nine days ago, the display on my iPhone pixelated.
After the repair, I can’t find the voicemail messages Dwight left me over the past decade.
I kept them because I want to hear his voice again.
My phone notified me that there was a new comment on Stephen R. Covey’s obituary page. For a moment, I smiled.
In 1994, Dwight and I went to the Gordon’s holiday party. When I handed him a vodka tonic, he almost spit the words, “Take it back and ask the bartender to put some tonic in it please.”
Whispering in the corner seat, Dwight and Billy said something about the bartenders being instructed to make the drinks “heavy.” Since this was my first holiday party at Sundance and, one of my first experiences with alcohol, I didn’t know anything.
Sandra Covey came in alone. Dwight intruded me, “This is my wife, Julie.” (I loved being called “my wife.”) Unlike others, Sandra did not look askance at me. With 42-years between us, I was accustomed to “the look,” and the questions. In fact, before our wedding, the dental technician asked if he was my grandfather. She was surprised when I replied, with a bit of indigence, “Dwight is my fiancé.”
Dwight asked, “Where’s Stephen R.?”
Like in the move St. Elmo’s Fire, when the mother whispers, Sandra leaned in and said, “Oh, he’s at Camp David.”
Dwight recounted that story on several occasions. He respected the Coveys.
Trying to understand, I thought of Dwight and Stephen R. somewhere; I’m not sure where. But, I supposed it is a combination of Mormon Heaven and something else.
They are laughing at the new zip line at Sundance.
I am trying to understand how to navigate life without my partner. I just want to see him smile again.