Hello, Tahoe

I made it to Tahoe yesterday. The drive up actually went really well.

It was snowing when I got here. One year ago, to the day, Kim and I were leaving Tahoe (I’m here a week later than usual this time) and we were driving in a freak snowstorm; one year later, I was arriving in snow. It was hard not to tie them together, emotionally. Several times I caught myself thinking, “Maybe this is a continuation of that same day, maybe I just dozed off in the car and it’s still May of 2010 and the past twelve months never happened,” but if they hadn’t happened, Kim would have been with me. And he wasn’t.

Thankfully the snow wasn’t sticking. Even though I’ve lived in snow before, I’ve never driven in it. Last year I was so grateful that Kim was driving, because I wouldn’t have had a clue what to do or how to get myself out of here. So when the snow started coming down and I was still miles from reaching the cabin, I had a mini heart attack, imagining the worst. Stranded on the grade, freezing in my dinky car at the side of the road, being eaten by bears. Because in my worst-case scenarios, there are always bears. And they are always hungry. And I am always their buffet of choice.

But needless to say, since I am typing this, I did not end up as a pic-ee-nic basket for Yogi and Boo-Boo.

The weather on the drive was really schizo. I literally ran into everything possible. Sunny and hot, sunny and cold, raining, raining with the sun shining, completely grey and overcast, overcast and snowing, sunny and snowing. There were several points where it changed every few hundred feet. Bizarre, but also kind of fun, because it was so weird.

I stopped in Historic Auburn for a pee/rest break and coffee and ended up buying a bunch of antiques from a small shop. The woman running the shop was elderly, so my “quick pit stop” ended up taking more like two hours. But it was nice and I wasn’t fussed.

I was taking photos of the main drag and ended up getting one that was totally grey, one where the street is half-grey-half-sunny (from when the clouds were shifting), and one in full sun. All in the space of about 60 seconds.

Just before getting to Auburn, a song came on — just one of the ones that’s on a playlist I’ve listened to a million times in my car — and it suddenly made me miss Kim so badly, I started crying. I don’t know why. Although it’s one of my favorite songs, and my list of favorites is really long, it isn’t a song that I ever associated with Kim particularly. I’ve heard it hundreds of times since he died, and it never affected me that way before. I think it was just the combination of the song happening to be one of my Tahoe-specific chill-out tracks combined with the fact that I was actually heading to Tahoe, where Kim would never actually be with me again, that suddenly made me feel very sad and alone:

I started crying around the 2:13 mark.

Before leaving home, I taped a photo of Kim to my glove box. That way I can look over and see him and feel like he’s still traveling with me.

Still Along For The Ride

When I arrived at the cabin, I did what I’ve always done: I made up the beds. For both of us. We always opted to stay in the living room, where we can actually see the lake through all the windows and the sliding door, and be in the same room with the fireplace. The living room has two day beds that also double as couches. I’ve always taken the covers off and pushed them together to make one double bed, and I have my side and Kim had his. So I made it up the same way, even getting the extra pillows out of the closet for both our sides. Then I put a framed photo I’d brought of Kim on the table next to his side, so I can look over and still see him there.

The next two weeks will be spent the same way every moment of the last 11 months has been spent: waiting for Kim to arrive and completely glossing over the fact that he never actually does.