Chapter 7
The funeral was the most exhausting day of Tyson's life. That's saying a lot about a man who had spent the better part of his life climbing summits or in grueling sports tournaments. Emotional exhaustion was different than physical exhaustion though. Tyson felt like a wet cloth that had been wrung out over and over until nothing remained but a limp rag. He was dealing with the same emotions as the rest of the family, the hurt and sorrow of unexpected loss. But he also had the added burden of guilt. He was learning first had that guilt is a nasty bedfellow, squeezing your organs when you sleep, robbing your breath at random moments through the day, and filling you with dread every time you see someone you know. That's how the funeral had been for Tyson. Behind everyone's eyes he read questions, opinions and judgment. Every whispered conversation he couldn't quite make out was about him. Every glance his direction was condemning. His nerves were frayed before they even got to the grave site. Marci's tragic reaction had been a knife to his gut, twisting deeper with every sob. How could he go on living and enjoying his beautiful wife and children when Marci was left alone? He determined to help Marci at every chance he got. He'd be everything he could to her and Eli and he'd include Eli in everything he and Kenny did as they were growing up. Still, his shoulders sagged; it would never be like having his father with him.
Liz could tell Tyson's nerves were beyond the breaking point. She also knew he had a lot on his mind and needed to talk. Convincing him he needed to talk however, may be a little tougher. The ride home from the funeral and graveside were silent. Kylee and Kenny were asleep in the back seat. Liz reached over and for the hundredth time in a few days took a hold of her husband's arm. For the first time, he shrugged it off. “Don't,” he said.
Liz could feel the tension in his corded arm and she made a crucial decision in that moment. She would not let him push her away. No matter how hard he tried. She loved his man with a passion and power that could withstand the fiery furnace of hell and she wasn't about to let go of him just because he told her too. Tyson deserved to be angry, to be confused and seeking solitude. She would let him have the time he wanted but she would always be there with an understanding heart, a caressing touch and a reassuring hug. She knew it wouldn't be easy at times but she was a strong person and she wanted Tyson back without all the guilt and sadness and she knew that if given time he would work it out and be the man she had loved all these years. It just might take the patience of Job to wait him out.
In the days following the funeral Tyson was more of a machine on autopilot than a man. He got up and helped with the kids but he spent a lot of time staring at nothing. He had a deep look of sorrow continually etched on his handsome face and the kids often had to call him several times before he responded. He did little projects that Liz asked him too and he played with the kids before bed but his exuberant personality was buried somewhere beneath the hurt and even the kids felt his withdrawal. Kenny still climbed all over him whenever he sat on the ground but Kylee, usually a bundle of bouncing energy, was more content to curl up on his lap with her blanket and tuck her head under his chin and just sit for long periods of time.
Liz watched him and wondered if it would help him deal with everything if he would go and talk with a therapist. Almost immediately she dismissed the idea. Tyson would never admit that a therapist would help. He had always been one to solve his own problems and he wouldn't relish anyone else helping him work through this one either. Yet, day after day she watched the man who had a zest for life and business dealings turn into a solemn, slow moving, old and tired version of himself. At night she tried to get him to talk to her, but he rolled on his side away from her and feigned sleep. He often shrugged away her touch and when she woke in the night he was rarely in the room with her. He was either downstairs sitting in the dark or on the back porch staring at the night sky. She figured he was sleeping only a few hours each night. No wonder he went through the days like a zombie. She thought maybe he would like to check the listings he had been working on before the accident, but he seemed to have no interest in turning on the computer, even to check sports scores. He seemed to have no interest in the news or world events either. It was completely unlike him and Liz began to worry about how long it would take him to sort through things and how she could help him.
He called Marci a few days after the funeral to see if she needed any help with things around the house. She was polite but firm in her refusal. Tyson spent the rest of the day replaying their conversation, reading in anger and condemnation in her words. Liz tried to no avail to convince him he was imagining it, but he wouldn't believe her. “Of course she hates me. How could she not? I'm alive and well and her husband is gone forever. She probably can't stand the sight of me.”
Liz knelt before him and took his hands away from his face. The agony she saw there brought tears to her eyes. “Tyson, she doesn't hate you. She is hurting. Just like I would be if you had stayed in the building. She just needs time. She loves you and she knows how much you loved Mark. She is just consumed with her own pain and overwhelmed with the future right now.”
Her words of comfort fell on deaf ears. The questions in his own mind were so loud they drowned out anything she was trying to say to him. He went out to mow the grass, but his heart wasn't in it. He left lines of tall grass between the rows he mowed.
Liz tried to stay upbeat and positive even though her heart was breaking for the losses she had endured the past week. The idea that Kylee and Kenny would never remember their Grandma Shari was crushing. She determined to find ways to bring her image to life to help her kids remember the precious moments. She missed Mark too. He was one of the most positive, encouraging people she had ever known and everyone had loved him, including Liz. She would miss her husband's brother as if she had lost her own. She kept the tears for times when Tyson was running errands or working in the yard and as soon as he came into the room she slapped on a smile and went into his arms. She wasn't much of a therapist but instinct told her to touch him as much as possible. She hugged him; even when he didn't seem to notice or respond and she touched him every time she walked by the couch where he sat.
She often stopped and stood behind him long enough to ruffle his hair, lightly massage his shoulders or plant a kiss on his cheek. He rarely responded but occasionally, she would feel him turn slightly into her embrace. At night, she offered to rub his feet with lotion, give him a deep massage or just cuddle in bed. Usually, he just wanted to sleep.
Tyson knew what his sweet little wife was trying to do and he appreciated it. He just seemed incapable of a response. It's like he was in a fog, and he didn't care. He was so tired all of the time and it required so much effort to cut his way through the dense fog. It was easier just not to feel anything. There was so much pain and guilt he just didn't know how to deal with it, so he tried his hardest to ignore it. Unfortunately, he ignored all his other emotions as well. He had replayed the events of that afternoon over in his mind so many times the images seemed permanently etched into the back of his eyeballs. He had tried various scenarios but in each one someone was devastated and left alone. It was one of those decisions with no winners, only losers and Tyson wasn't sure he wasn't the biggest loser of all. Yet, there were moments when he knew he had done the right thing. Moments when his adoring daughter curled on his lap or Kenny fell asleep on his shoulder, securely cradled in the safest place in his world. If he had done the right thing, why did he feel so much guilt whenever he thought of Mark or Marci? If he had done the right thing why couldn't he get past the hurt? He had lost love ones before but it had never stopped him in his tracks like this had. He knew he had to deal with the emotions but he wasn't ready to. He smiled to himself at how hard Liz was trying to be positive. He knew she was worried and he loved her for her fierce loyalty to him. One night, he awoke as usual about 3am with the same nagging guilt and sadness. He lay wondering if it was ever going to leave him alone. Suddenly he realized something was wrong. Liz's quiet,
gentle breathing wasn't calming him from the other side of the bed. He listened quietly and heard a soft sound coming from the kitchen. As he swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and made his way to the kitchen he began to recognize the sound. It was the wrenching, pitiful sob of a heart in despair. He stepped into the kitchen and followed the sound toward the laundry room. In an attempt not to disturb him Liz had shut the door and leaned against the washing machine. There she gave way to the cleansing sobs that had been bottled up inside her. Her shoulders shook with great heaving sobs and she wasn't even trying to control the tears. He quietly opened the door and she looked up with a stricken face. He opened his arms and she stepped inside his embrace and buried her face in his shoulder. She was so tired of trying to put on a happy face. It was straining her to the point of collapse. She cried for Marci and baby Eli. She cried for her children who would never know their uncle or grandmother. She cried for Cami and for Todd and she cried for the loss of her exuberant, charming husband who had turned into a sad, grumpy shell.
Tyson knew why she was crying and he offered comfort the only way he knew how. He held her tight and whispered words of love. He knew she needed him but he still seemed powerless to be the man she was reaching for. As he held her he shook his head in an effort to dissipate the constant fog. If he could just feel something he may be able to start the climb out of the pit he was in.
The stupor of inactivity lasted another week. Liz began to worry. They had plenty of money in savings to last for awhile but Tyson had several deals in the works and he would lose them if he delayed much longer. Colleagues, bankers and clients had been calling for the past week. Liz gave them a short explanation and hoped they would be patient. She determined not to be put off again that night. She and Tyson would talk if she had to hold onto his face and force him to look at her. Something inside her told her that he needed help and she was adamant that she would help him get back into life.
That night she brushed out her long blond hair and took a deep breath. She hadn't been this nervous and unsure since they had been dating years ago. She climbed into bed and wrapped her arms around his waist. He grunted and she cuddled closer.
“Tyson, I need to talk to you. Your clients are calling. Your colleagues are calling and your bankers are worried about you and the deals you have left open. I'm stalling them but I think they need to talk to you.” She was met with silence.
“Tyson, I know you're awake and I need an answer from you. You have responsibilities and people are counting on you. If you're not going to get these papers done you need to pass them to someone who will.” She felt his shoulders tense.
“You love your job and you're good at it. Maybe if you went back to work a little you would find a little peace.”
That was when the dam broke. Weeks of pent up emotion barreled out and Liz was caught in the onslaught.
“If you're so anxious for money I'll go back to the office tomorrow.” he spat out. “I didn't realize the only value I have around here is a paycheck. Fine; I'll bring home your precious paycheck and prove to you that I can still take care of my family.” He stood up and grabbed his pillow from the bed and stormed from the room.
Liz sat in stunned silence. What in the world just happened? Who was that man? Clearly, she was the lightening rod for some anger he was processing. She followed him from the room but he was already in the guest room and he wouldn't answer her knock.
“Tyson, open the door. You know I don't care about the money. I'm just concerned about your job and your peace of mind. Please talk to me honey. Don't be like this.” She heard the music on the clock radio go up. Frustrated beyond even her tolerance level, Liz stormed into her room and sat down hard on the edge of the bed. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wasn't sure if they were tears of anger, frustration, or hurt. For the first time, her resolve showed signs of crumbling. How could she help a man who was so opposed to being helped? She lay awake for hours replaying the conversation and reaching for an alternate ending. She finally dozed off and slept for only a few hours before she heard Kenny calling her from his crib. By the time she got him up and changed and fed she realized the guest room door was open. She peeked inside and then checked the garage. Tyson's car was gone.
Panic coursed through her as she ran through the house calling his name and looking for him. Kylee came out rubbing her tired eyes and looking confused. Immediately she cried for her daddy and refused to be comforted. Slowly Liz got a hold of herself and reason began to replace panic. She grabbed her cell phone and text Tyson, “Good morning. Where are you?”
The answer came back in one word “work” and her heart resumed its natural rhythm. She would make his favorite dinner and they would work through this. But Tyson didn't come home until 16 hours later. When he did, he acted like nothing had happened. Tired, irritable and on edge, Liz decided not to drag him into a discussion tonight. For the first time in a long time she didn't even try to cuddle him as they lay in bed that night.
Tyson worked 14-16 hour days the rest of that week. As he expected it had been awkward and uncomfortable the first day. Everyone felt the need to say something about the accident. He closed them down quickly with a dismissive nod and then changed the subject. Most people seemed relieved not to have to deal with it anymore. At work at least, it was business as usual. He was swamped because of the days he had missed and he had hours of catch up work to do. He seemed to come to life a little as he threw himself into the work he loved and Liz was so happy to see him showing any kind of emotion that she didn't dare challenge his hours. It just seemed easier to let him go at his own pace.
Tyson found that if he wrapped himself up in complex problems at work he didn't have to think about anything else. He was good at solving problems and finding what clients were looking for and when he immersed himself in the task at hand the pain and guilt left him alone. The longer and harder he worked the more exhausted he was when he lay down at night and the less he dreamed. That was alright with him.
Liz was running out of patience with her missing husband. The kids started acting up because they never saw him and there were so many things she wanted to talk to him about if he'd just be available once in awhile. Even when he came home from work late, he generally worked or was preoccupied with something from the day. She woke one night to the sound of his light snoring. She studied his face in the dim light. He looked peaceful for the first time in weeks. She reached out her hand and gently ran her fingers over the stubble on his cheek. She missed the way he teased her by holding her close and rubbing those gruff cheeks against her soft face, until she squealed and pushed out of his embrace. He grunted in his sleep and raised his arm up over his head. Softly she caressed the soft light colored hair on his strong forearm. She let her fingers play with the muscles there. She loved his forearms and his big callused hands. She missed his hands, and she wondered if they would ever go back to the spontaneous, fun couple in love they were a few weeks ago. He stirred in his sleep and she wrapped her arms fiercely around him and held on like the last leaf on a winter branch. She fell asleep wrapped around him.