Life Happens Quick: Spilled Coffee, Broken Mug, Heartbreak In A Heartbeat

Life Happens Quick

Facebook’s new timeline format makes it easy to take a look back at different times in your life. I did not use Facebook as much in 2009 as I do now but I did update my status regularly. . . On June 2, 2009,  I went from spilled coffee and a broken mug to heartbreak in a matter of hours.

Facebook Status: June 2, 2009

7:18am: Just waved goodbye to Joe and Cole out the window. Some mornings are hard. This morning was easy. Everyone was up early and in a good mood. Love my family.

7:37am: I am certain there is a market for Starbucks delivery–I just dropped my Starbucks on the tile floor breaking a good mug, and spilling my treasured Starbucks.

8:03am: Car repair bills on the Ford. Hope this will be the last of them. Joe assures me the car is going to last forever now. MMM.

9:10am: Joe just called to tell me he is not feeling well and is coming home. The man is never sick. There goes my morning.

1:04am (June 2): Joe died. When I told Cole he said, “This really sucks, Mom.” Truer words have never been spoken.

June 2, 2012: Our Status:

Life goes on.

Life moves so fast.

The year has lessened the grief but not the disbelief.

Two days before Joe died my Facebook status indicated that Joe was most unhappy about my insisting that he pull out the lilac bushes, a chore he had been promising to do for weeks–I am really glad he did not die while he was shoveling them out. I would have felt just awful. 😀

Grief isn’t funny but death is hilarious at times.

Read a tweet the other day that made me think of Joe: “It’s not road ‘rage’ if I’m laughing the whole time I’m doing it.”

Cole forgot to spread Joe’s ashes in New Orleans. So he spent the whole time in a pill bottle in Cole’s suitcase. Life after death with a teenager.

Not too long ago someone asked me what the hardest part about Joe’s death was for me right now: Not be able to share my kid every day with someone who loves him as much as I do.

A friend told me that my marital status on Facebook is still listed as ‘married.’ I might change it to ‘complicated.’

I’m glad I don’t have to face this presidential election with Joe. Although my mother will probably miss him a great deal.

Joe once accused me of throwing out an old battered coffee can that he used as a salt scoop during the winter months. I told him I had not thrown it out but he was in a rage and keep following me around the house insisting that I had–so finally I said, “Yep Joe, you’re right, I waited until you went to work, put on my coat, mitten, gloves, hat and trudged through the snow and ice to the back of the yard to find that old dented coffee can and then I threw it away.” Joe glared at me and shouted, “I KNEW IT.” I burst into laughter, and after a shocked minute Joe joined me. Then we made up and I gave Joe a shiny new coffee can. I found that old battered coffee can in the shed the other day. I cried.

Every June 2nd I look at Joe’s ‘Moses’ picture and feel a great deal of gratitude and much love for our family, our friends, and the El Morno/Facebook gang who have loved, shared, connected and laughed with us throughout the year. Thank you.

The other night I had a dream in which Joe showed up. We talked about a lot of things but his parting message was, “The Martinis up here are heavenly.”

Cheers Joe from your best gal and your best pal.

15 thoughts on “Life Happens Quick: Spilled Coffee, Broken Mug, Heartbreak In A Heartbeat

  1. Thank you for reminding me of what’s really important in our lives. The coffee can made me cry – why the coffee can and not the other things? Who knows. You are loved Katybeth – and Cole is loved. And I do believe that Joe is looking down on you both and sharing your lives. And possibly laughing. But not at this post. (((hugs)))

  2. Cheers Joe! I wish that I had had the chance to meet him. Every time you share your stories about him, I’m always left with a good feeling and a smile on my face.
    Carolee is right, Katybeth, you and Cole are very much loved!
    Thinking of you and Cole today. <3

  3. Thank You for sharing so much of yourselves with us! We’ll have the 3 of you in our thoughts and prayers today. Your words are always a blessing. xo

  4. This blog was beautifully written and so heartfelt that I am weeping here. May the peace of Christ comfort you with his love <3

  5. Hugs to you and Cole on what must be a painful anniversary. My dad died about six months before Joe did, and I’m pretty sure that if Joe’s got Martinis in Heaven, Daddy’s joining him! I so understand your sorrow at not being able to share your son with Joe (Domer’s dad lives clear across the country — and has for years — and even though our situation is far different from yours and Joe’s, I, too, miss sharing Domer with his dad). Cole got it right — death sucks. On many levels. Know you’re both in my prayers!

  6. Like the others said, this brought tears to my eyes. And a smile to my face. Life, as well as death, is complicated.

  7. The best is Joe in the pill container! I’ve been laughing about that all afternoon. A shrink would say Cole is well adjusted and his prorities and focus in life are spot on. Cheers to Cole! Cheers to you too for helping him land right side up!

  8. katybeth,
    I love reading these words of yours….thinking of you today…love, catherine

  9. A wonderful tribute to your Joe. He must have many good laughs at your antics and your musings. You are one in a million and if Joe were here today, I’m sure he would agree with me. Your Cole is Joe all over again. Can see it in his humor and looks. You are Blessed, Katybeth.

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