what the water takes.
and what it cannot.
There is so much water in our Jackson summers. Always has been, but now even more. We are bonkers lucky. Evan and I are “caretaking” a speedboat that’s docked on Jackson Lake this summer. It’s one of his best friend’s family’s boat and it’s dreamy.
Rafting down the rivers with friends has also been so healing and beautiful. But the water giveth and the water taketh.
WHAT THE WATER HAS TAKEN FROM ME LATELY:
A Camera, A Stuffy, & The Last Of My Emotional Stability.
A couple weeks ago, I spent every waking moment just ruminating on the fact that I thought the movers stole our stuff.
They didn’t pick up their phone when we called. They didn’t call back. I feared our stuff is gone forever. But then I thought back to that sunny day that they moved all of our stuff. One of the guys was sweating a LOT and Evan offered him a new shirt. He took Evan up on that and then Evan let him keep the shirt. When I tell my friends about how stressed I am about these movers, they remind me that I have a perfect personal essay waiting if they never show up:
“We Gave Them the Shirt Off Our Back and Then They Stole the Rest of Our Shirts and Everything Else We Own:
How a maximalist family were forced to become minimalists.”
The piece basically writes itself.
We decided to take out the boat with a few friends to take our mind off of it. When we got to where the boat is moored, Evan got a water taxi out to the boat whilst the rest of us got all the things we needed for the boat ready on shore. As Evan started to bring the boat in, I told my friend, “I’m going to go catch the boat for Evan.” I grabbed the most important things—my DSLR camera, our full swim bag, and Roary (Marcie’s most beloved stuffy)—and went out on the dock. I set the stuff down where I thought Evan was going to bring the boat in, but it was busy, so he moved a couple times.
We packed up the boat. We got everyone on board. It was an incredible scene. I wanted to take a picture. I went to grab my camera—it wasn’t on the boat. I realized the swim bag, the camera bag, and—most importantly—Roary never made it on our boat. We went back to the dock; nothing was there. Our stuff was gone.
Marcelline loudly lost her mind. I quietly lost mine. I tried not to be the biggest bummer in the world.
I was unsuccessful. I mean—I think other people who didn’t lose their most precious stuffed friend or a $2000 camera had a great time on the boat. We all did dives and jumps and swam and reveled in the Tetons.
When we got back to the dock, I asked the marina again if they had anything turned in. No dice. Evan went to button up the boat, I told my friend to go home, she told me she really didn’t want me to sit here all night and ask every single boat that came in if they had our stuff. I started crying. “I lost the last of our stuff. It’s all my fault.”
She hugged me. She told me it wasn’t my fault. She left to take her kiddos home for dinner and not two minutes after she left, this familiar boat came into the dock. I knew it had our stuff.
Me: Hi. Hey. Excuse me. Did you accidentally grab a camera bag and a swim bag?
Guy: Uhhhhh… did it have a toy in it??
Me: YES. That’s my daughter’s stuffy.
Guy: Oh my god, I’m so sorry. (from a seat turned storage, he pulled out everything that was mine.) I was wondering who brought their emotional-support stuffed animal.
Woman: Rachel?
It was Ashley. A friend who was a fellow DJ at KHOL back in the day. I had even spent a night with her in Dublin TWELVE YEARS AGO, when she went to school there.
Me: Oh my god, hi! Is this your boat?
Ashley: Yeah! Wow, you live here now! Wait—are you crying?
Me: Oh yeah. The movers haven’t come yet and I thought I lost all the rest of our stuff.
We hugged. I got my stuff back, but my emotional stability was gone.
My Pride.
A lot of lately has been (somehow still) meeting Evan’s friends and loved ones from him growing up here in Jackson. I honestly don’t know how there are more of them. They’re everywhere. The guy has so many goddamn friends. And something in me turns into that semi-insecure early 20-something who wants to impress her boyfriend’s (husband now) friends. When we went out on the boat the first time, Evan had heard that some of our friends had camped out on the lake the night before, so we went to have dinner with them all at their campsite.
I met Evan’s friend from high school, named “Orion.” But in my dumbass head, I thought his name was “O’Ryan.” There was a point around the campfire, when Orion was cooking up beef for the tacos, when I decided to sit with him and offer help or wine or just awkward conversation…
Orion: How old is Marcie?
Me: She’s four. She was actually born on St. Paddy’s Day!
Orion: Oh, cool.
Me: I thought you might like that, since your name is so Irish.
Orion: What? Irish?
Me (doubling down instead of maybe taking one fucking beat, Rachel, and maybe realizing you should turn around instead of charging forward): Yeah, totally. O’Ryan??? It’s totally Irish!
And then I said it just like this:
Orion: …………hmmm. I’ve never thought of it like that.
And in my head I was like, wow, weird reaction. He is really not a great conversationalist.
It wasn’t until literally three days ago (weeks after this interaction) that I looked over Evan’s shoulder and saw he got a text from “Orion.”
Me: That’s O’Ryan?? That’s O’Ryan. Orion. Like that constellation. Orion.
Evan: Yeah… stop looking at my texts.
The Spark For The Question From My Yes.
Rafting down the Snake River Canyon is maybe my favorite thing in the world. So. Much. Fun.
Incredible friends took me down the canyon and the next we went for a family float on the scenic river in the park. It was a beautiful time.
But after our lunch stop, I looked down at my engagement ring and the stone—the rough sapphire that Evan mined—was gone. My heart broke. (I feel like I’m going to cry again right now.) This ring was once my everything. He is my “yes” but this ring was the question that sparked the “yes.” And now it’s gone. Lost to the river forever.
Evan kept telling me that “our love is more than stuff” and I kept saying, “but I love stuff!” And he knows how much I look into symbolism. Which, I’m trying not to. Even thought the movers also broke the glass of this piece of art Evan made out of our vows…
Are these our marriage’s horcruxes? Are we in trouble??! I don’t think so.
I am grateful for this gorgeous family ring I have now. But it feels like a part of us is fading away. The part that didn’t wear diamonds. The part that barely had a savings account. The part that survived on love and partnership almost alone. The part that didn’t throw money at problems.
We’re different now and the water knows that. The water knows that it can take what we loved and used to be to test us. It’s testing us: wondering if we’ll let go of all that we once were. The water knows Evan and Rachel of yore. We were there many times. It knows our laughs and our love. The water is taking from us to see if we’ll cut our losses and turn into those who don’t know the water or if we’ll keep coming back. We’ll be back. Because we know that the water gives us so much life and our love can take losses much deeper than a stone.
Quick Hit:
Jam of the Week: Ibibio Sound Machine – Let My Yes Be Yes.
(I heard this yesterday on The Heavy Warm Up on KHOL and it made me think of one of my favorite compliments ever. once my friend Troy told me that what he loved about me is that “your yeses are yeses and your nos are nos.” I didn’t realize I was that way, but I decided right then it was also something I loved about myself. Evan is my “yes” and always will be. as for my “no”s? there are a few… they come at a slower pace.)
That’s all the time/room I have this week. I love y’all.
xxo,
Rachel.