My Necklace

What’s the oldest things you’re wearing today?

I mentioned in another piece that I wear an ichthus necklace that has my mother’s fingerprint as the pattern inside the fish. I got it in 2016, which edges out my pants by, I think, a year or two. I’m wearing the sweat pants that Zac got me at the Pentagon, a soft dark green t-shirt, my Apple Watch, and two bracelets that match ones I bought for Zac. One is a rainbow friendship bracelet, and I am an idiot because I didn’t buy them for Bryn and Dave as well. If they’re reading this, I will rectify the situation when I can. 😉 I bought them on our double date to the Spy Museum and Irish pub. The other is a gift from Zac. I got him a set of bracelets made of nautical rope, and when he opened them, he put one on me. It’s maroon with black plastic hardware and looks great up against the rainbow. Meaningful, yet not old.

I would like to say that I’m wearing these pants because I’m pining for Zac and they make me feel closer to him. I would like to say that. However, they are the most comfortable pants in the universe, Zac or no Zac. They came from the Pentagon, ergo, the government cares that I am comfortable. 😉 One of my favorite things in life is when Zac says, “I’m a middle aged white man who works for the government. I’m here to help.” He is aware of how it sounds and plays it up for comedic effect.

The fact that my man knows how to use comedic effect is one of the reasons he’s my man. Zac is on the brain because we finally made plans for tonight, “plans” being relative because the “plan” is to sit on the couch and watch TV. There may be some excitement, though, because Zac is having his car serviced. He said we could Uber or he would pick me up on his motorcycle. I said it was okay to pick me up on the motorcycle if it was a sunny day. I decided that Lindsay wasn’t going to be the only one on a motorcycle before she died.

Please know that I know riding motorcycles is dangerous, and if something happens today, know that I went out doing exactly what I wanted to do…. live a little. It’s a calculated risk because I am not going to be operating the motorcycle, I will be riding with someone who is very experienced. Also, military men are too confident to be daredevils on the road most of the time. Anything they needed to prove, they’ve already done it.

Plus, my friend Donna Schuurman has gone on these long, involved rides all over the US and Australia and I thought, “if Donna can do that, you can trust Zac from the Metro to his house.” Pretty sure he’s driven that route a time or two.

I feel like I have a different view of death than I did before my mother died, and the way she died in particular. The reason she got sick and died in 30 minutes is that the problem was originally a broken foot. She developed an embolism in the foot. It came loose and traveled, which made her faint. It blew, and she was dead. Because of the speed, I know that the best surgeon in the world could have been right next to her when she started feeling faint and there still would have been a 95% chance she’d be dead, anyway. It’s a scalpel, not a magic wand.

It is very comforting to know about medicine in a time like this. To know the limits of what medicine can do and actually be able to say “it’s no one’s fault.” Maybe if she’d moved her leg more when her foot was broken, but that has to undo the last six or seven weeks of her life, not the day she got sick.

As a result, I have a very practical, pragmatic view of death. It could happen at any time and without fanfare, so just be as honest with people as you possibly can because you really don’t know that it’s going to be the last time you talk to someone. I’ll give you a for instance. My mom’s choir had a perfectly healthy director and organist one Sunday, and a dead one the next with absolutely no warning or fanfare. That is not an easy transition. Everyone was lost and confused, not just me.

It’s one of the reasons I have become so adamant about telling my stories and getting my voice out there. I want my friends and family to know about me, and I know they’ll treasure my blog when I die. It is not about leaving a legacy once I’m famous, but leaving a legacy at all. My grandfather wrote a five volume series on the Lanagan family, and they all eat it up. Therefore, I know that the joy of a book doesn’t come from how many people have read it. The joy of a book comes from writing it.

So whether I die today or 50 years from now, I’m just going to be blunt and lay it all out there. I don’t have blinders on anymore. Death is random, and I do not have to be afraid of it because it is so random. The universe is not out to get me. It is a numbers game. What it has given me is the strength to keep asking the big questions of myself, because the smaller ones don’t matter.