This past week has been as fucking insane as the three weeks I spent adrift were disturbingly monotonous.I’m sure if there’s an afterlife that Ellen is probably sadistically chuckling over my plight and telling me to relax and enjoy it.
Across the entire front row on both sides sit my kids, my brothers, Ellen’s sisters and their husbands and children, and Casey and Declan. I wanted Casey in the front row, and she asked Declan be allowed to sit next to her. He was her rock while I was gone, whileshe tried to be a rock for my kids and my brothers, and I won’t begrudge her that.
She’smyrock now. Since I’ve named Declan my deputy chief of staff, he’s my rock, too.
I hope they’re both up to the challenge.
I’m not close to Ellen’s sisters, because she wasn’t, either. Before today, Ellen and I hadn’t seen any of them in over two years. None of them live in-state any longer, and the eldest,Margaret, is barely civil to me even in the best of times, and usually acts downright hostile to me. I know they all blame me for Ellen not going to church anymore, but that happened before I met her.
It didn’t help that, when everything happened, Casey immediately stepped in and took over, wielding the power of attorney we’d given her and taking custody of Ryder and Aussie and completely shoulderingthe three sisters out of the decision-making process.
Which is exactly what Ellen wanted, too. Her sisters have hated Casey ever since Ellen first met her and brought her home for family gatherings. Casey isn’t someone they can push around, she’s not a “good Christian,” and she focused on her career rather than becoming a baby factory. In their eyes, Casey was a bad influence on Ellen.
The truthis, Casey helped Ellen flourish and find happiness.
Today, at least, all three sisters and their spouses are minding their manners, no doubt cognizant of all the cell phones and cameras.
This service is being broadcast live by a local TV station, both on the air and over the Internet.
Meaning probably hundreds of thousands of people, or more, watching me.
I asked for no teleprompter today.I’m doing this old-school, with paper notes, because I know I’m going to cry.
I’m already blinking back tears.
Casey and I cried last night as she helped me prep the final draft while we were locked in my home office. One of the few times I’ve ever seen her without makeup when she might be seen by someone other than me and Ellen and the kids.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming today,” I say.A hushed anticipation hovers over the crowd, at least five thousand, and more watching on a giant screen outside, from what I understand. Ellen was cremated before they knew I was alive, but that’s okay. That’s what we both wanted.
I saw her when she died. I unfortunately have that memory forever etched in my brain. I didn’t need to see her body after she spent time underwater and strapped intoher seat. It’s bad enough I know Casey saw her to make the official ID, and that probably traumatized her for life. She’d flown out with Chase when it first happened and had, ironically, already met Carter while awaiting any news.
“For those of you who were planning on coming the first time and had schedules changed, I’m sorry, but I think I don’t have to tell you why I wanted to be here forthis.”
Her urn sits on a pedestal on the center of the stage, surrounded by flowers and enlarged pictures—our wedding photo, a picture of me, her, and Casey on the day they graduated from college, our last family photo together with the kids.
I look there now. “I am a lucky man who was able to tell her every day how much I loved her. I knew how much Ellen loved me, and our children. We weremarried for twenty years, but together longer than that. We had three fantastic children together, and I could not have prayed for a better wife or life partner.”
I’m sure Ellen would forgive me for sprinkling a few keywords here and there, dog whistles to the Evangelicals in my voter base. It was Casey’s idea. She didn’t want to do anything to draw ire from them for not having a “religious”service.
My political juice from this situation is never far from my mind. Ellen would swat the back of my head if I didn’t think about the massive bounce in the polls I’m enjoying and take it into account. She was every bit as media savvy as Casey is.
I’ve given a couple of brief interviews, but I’ve refused to go into details about Ellen’s death despite dogged attempts on journalists’ partsto drag it out of me.
I won’t put our kids through that. Maybe the public loves grief porn, but this ismylife, my kids’ lives. Casey’s life.
It’sourgrief, not theirs.
“There is a bittersweet pain within me, because I know before she died she heard me tell her I loved her, and she told me she loved me. I feel confident she is at peace, her soul at rest.” Another concession to the religiousvoters. “The last several weeks of her life were filled with good memories, with joy. We knew we were approaching a milestone in our lives, of our children leaving the nest for their futures. We had…plans.”
Boy, did we. I have to swallow back the lump in my throat now.
Under my shirt, I’m wearing her rings on a stainless-steel necklace Casey bought for me. I need them. I’m not ready to releasethem yet.
I’m not ready to release my girl in any way.
I…can’t.
“Ellen had a sweet, giving heart, and lived a life of service…”
