Today at New York Creek
I spent some time this morning at New York Creek on Folsom Lake, just listening to the wind and remembering all the times I’ve visited this spot with the Big Guy. The last time was in October 2024. We haven’t had much time for trips to the lake this year, traveling back and forth to Texas with the passing of his mother in early March, followed by his father at the end of May. They were both in their nineties and lived full, rich lives, but the loss still hurts. The Big Guy shouldered much of the burden of their final details — a job he took on reluctantly but with a serious determination to do everything just right.
New York Creek, October 2024
But then came the cruellest blow of all, one I never could have imagined or prepared for. This past Sunday morning, while cycling with friends around Lake Natoma, the Big Guy suddenly suffered what seems to have been a massive heart attack. Paramedics and doctors did everything they could, but he passed away. I’m still struggling to come to terms with my new reality — just the fact that he is no longer with me. And guess what: today would have been our 20th wedding anniversary. So, yeah.
We had actually been together for much longer than 20 years. Counting from the time we first committed to spend our lives together, we had 39 years. Which sounds like a lot, but I can tell you right now, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
So I may not be blogging on a regular basis for awhile. There’s so much grief to process, and so many details to attend to. Thankfully, I have the support of his family and mine, his bike and fishing friends — there are a lot of those — and even neighbors on our street that I’ve never met before. Everyone is so kind and wonderful, and I wish I could thank them properly.
While I was out at the lake today, thinking about all the places the Big Guy loved, the breeze touched my face and reminded me of Buster, his beloved Doberman-Rottweiler who died in April 2010. The Big Guy loved all dogs, and most every dog seemed to love him in return; but Buster was his most special buddy and companion. He came to us as a small puppy, and over the years they did just about everything together — fishing on the shore or in the boat, hiking around Lake Natoma and Folsom, or just relaxing and playing around the house. When we lost him at age 16, it nearly killed us both. So it’s giving me a bit of comfort to sit here now thinking of Buster waiting patiently for him on the other side, and greeting the Big Guy with more joy and kisses than you can imagine. And then together, they’ll go for a hike and catch a few bass.
