A 'Womp Womp' Birthday Post

Today is Brett's 39th birthday. This seems incorrect to both of us, but in my case, I could have sworn I married someone much younger. Even our neighbor, Jim, was nearly angry when we told him. "What? That can't be true!" To me, Brett looks about 31. He acts about 16. If you split the difference, he's barely allowed to buy a beer. 

Brett and I went on our first date three days before is 27th birthday. We met at a coffee shop to get toasty hot beverages to take with us to the dog park. It was all part of my strategy. You see, I'd met the jolly giant a few months earlier via one of his roommates who was attempting to woo me. I had come over to pickup the roommate to go to a party (because roommate didn't have a car) and I was sitting in the living room waiting for him. It was a skinny, brown pup that waited with me, you know her now as Grace. She was one year old. Another of Brett's roommates (Hayden) was sitting at a desk in the living room. There was a fourth roommate too, but he lived up in the attic and seemed to only come out after 9pm. 

"Who's dog is this?"
"That's Grace, our roommate's dog."

That roommate sauntered out of his room at just that moment with a guitar looped around his shoulder and a mop of floppy hair dangling in front of his eyes. He slid the guitar off to one side, shook the hair out of his face and held out his hand. He said, "Hi, I'm Brett Eisenhauer. That's my dog Grace." I thought he was awfully cute. Then the car-less roommate was ready to go, so I had to leave that tall drink of water in the living room to hang out with other people. 

Anyways, I ran into Brett and Grace a few more times before New Years. We didn't get to talk much but I'd sit on the floor and let Grace lick my face in an effort to make this cute new tall guy think I was especially cool. Grace enjoyed the attention but her real interests were in Brett. I could see we were in competition with each other. 

On New Years, since I had to drive the car-less roommate home from a party anyway, I strategically took a notably small, sparkly yellow party hat with me, strapped it to Grace's fuzzy head, and took some photos of her wearing it. The next day I got Brett's number from someone since I needed to send him these most important photos. We went on our first date a few days later. (Followed by some months of roommate unrest and breaking up the household.) 

I remember watching Brett from inside the coffee shop. I was early (as usual) and he was a little late (as usual) so I watched him pull into a parking spot, open the back window of his jeep, and give Grace a few pats on the head before he turned and strolled inside with no ounce of urgency about him (as usual).

In the coming months of dating, I found his devotion to proper dog-parenting to be completely exasperating. He would end dates early because Grace needed to be let out. He would reroute day plans so we could run back to his place and take Grace for a walk. Often, he would bring Grace on the dates. I don't need to point out how much I love dogs, but seriously, dude? Again. Many of our dates consisted of me watching or waiting while he tended to Grace in some way. I remember bringing it up once. "Wouldn't you find this day less stressful if you didn't need to hold onto an anxious, pooping dog while you did it?" 

The Grace and Lu Competition for Brett's Attention started pretty early on. She was flummoxed by my consistent presence. I could see her looking at Brett as if to say, "Why is she here again?" I was annoyed by her attention grabbing behavior. One time she barfed at the bottom of a staircase leading up to the restaurant we (and many others) were waiting to eat at. Oh she needed walks and baths, and cuddles, and dog food. Grace Grace Grace. WHAT ABOUT ME!! She would gloat when she won him. She'd be real sweet to me when he was around but when he'd leave the room she'd ignore me or refuse to come when I called. 

She never forgave us for getting married and only upped the sarcasm and stubbornness over the years. Despite the unnecessarily large percentage of each day that was focused on Grace, having Brett around made my days brighter, and I could appreciate that he does things fully correctly, without cutting corners or taking a day off. 

Then we got Pippa. Grace's dismay reached record limits. There were many fights, many stitches, some bloody fingers, lots of keeping one in a different room, until finally Grace reached her elder years. She gave up on hoping to kill Pippa and began to try to enjoy life's small pleasures; sitting on the porch, rolling in the grass, accepting morning cuddles from her evil-stepmother, and anticipating just what oh what she might get to eat for lunch that day. 

Unbeknownst to us, Grace had a tumor growing in her liver. Who knows when it got there or how. We don't know when or if she ever started to feel sick. She was so still and stoic all the time - there were no behaviors that could have pointed to anything being wrong. But on Tuesday she didn't want to go on her walk, and on Wednesday she was breathing hard. Brett took her to the hospital where they gave us the news. "We can operate - remove the tumor and the fluid in her chest. Then think about palliative care. We don't recommend taking her home. She doesn't have much time." 

Brett brought her home. We set her up in her favorite spot, gave her lots of kisses, left to go to Carolyn's redneck Christmas party, and then came home to listen to her breathing heavily all night long. We laid on the floor with her and cried and made fun of her and tried to understand how she hid something so big from us. Grace died on Christmas morning, around 8:30 or so. We decided it was her perfect last jab - to make sure we always think of her on such an important day. 

In retrospect, we might have had the emergency room doctors put her to sleep when they told us not to take her home - but we didn't really believe them. She was up running around and eating two days ago. No, we'll take her to our vet when they open on Friday, and see what they say. She doesn't even seem sick, she just seems sleepy. We're both stunned by how fast it happened. We dug an appropriately sized grave for her that was appropriately filled with unexpected Grace-like obstacles. We let Pippa look and sniff and make sense of things before we buried her in a sunny spot at the end of the yard. I had to go straight to work at the kennel from grave-digging (I burst into tears as soon as I saw all my beloved homeless pups - had to apologize to my coworkers.) and Brett had to put his pricey Christmas meat in the oven and get the house ready for his family Christmas dinner. 

It wasn't our favorite day. We spent the limbo stage between Christmas and New Years sleeping and reading and cooking and taking Pippa for lonely walks. I've never seen Brett take time off of productivity for more than a few hours. This was strange to watch, and also very cozy and sweet to see. I laughed when I told him that I don't know him without Grace. He's never just been a lone, tall figure. There's always been a brown lump next to him. They've been an inseparable duo for twelve years. 

How is this a birthday post? Well... years ago, when Jeff was working through his divorce, he'd come over and sit on our couch and he and I would talk about relationships and love and expectation. (Brett would always go find something else to do once the conversation go too sticky.) Jeff had asked me some kind of question about "choosing someone for life" and I remember thinking about Grace - she was how I knew to choose Brett. 

Of course you can't really know who someone will become as they age but I knew that Brett, whether he gets it right or wrong, will always try and mean well while he does it - maybe not right away, but once the stubbornness wears off. Because he always does a thorough job, even when you're twenty minutes late and it could wait until tomorrow. Not only would he never cut corners with caring for Grace, he'd look for ways to make her days more exciting. 

One time when the Union's and Ray's were down in the sweltering Florida Keys, a repairman was working on something outside on the uncovered part of the dock. We were all inside, in the cool air-conditoning eating lunch and laughing at each other. I hadn't noticed that Brett slipped out until someone looked out the window and said, "What is Brett doing?" 

I got up to look. He was out at the end of the dock near the repairman, setting up a beach umbrella for him, so he could work in the shade. Brett held his sandwich in his mouth while he propped the pole just so. Once set, he strolled back down the dock in no hurry (as usual) and munched on his sandwich with casual contentment. He came back inside and didn't say a word about it. 

As for Jeff's marriage question; I think if a person has proven to be consistently well-intended, and not just for the fun parts of life, your team will be in good hands. Even if those hands have a couple mangled fingers.