The Real Lisa Bain

The Wandering Widow

Grief Recovery Project

How Has It Been Two Years Without Him?

By 8 Comments

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedintumblrmail

“Time moves on for us, for you it stands still. You will be forever ageless as we grow old, your smile will never wrinkle, nor will that shine in your eyes fade.”
Kendal Rob

A Wondering Widow Post

It’s almost impossible to believe two years have passed since I sat vigil, alone with my beloved after our family left for the night; two years since I watched my beloved die a gruesome death. It’s surreal to think a year has passed since I survived Dan’s one-year deathiversary. And it’s a miracle I remember it at all since I spent that day with some amazing friends who agreed to day drink with me so I wouldn’t be alone. (I know, I have the best friends ever.)

And today, somehow, I found myself at the two-year mark. I’ve spent the bulk of this second year on the road; traveling in the hopes of finding myself as I sought out beautiful places, interesting people, and adventure. And in the midst of my searching, I found something unexpected: happiness and peace. That’s not to say there haven’t been tears along the way; lots of them in the last few days. (The night before continues to be worse than the morning of. Maybe because that’s when I felt the most helpless and alone.)

Brace For Impact

Our nephew was born a month before Dan died, and this was the closest he got to holding a grandbaby. After this photo was taken, and we were finally alone again, my big strong man broke down and cried.

If you are a regular reader, you know I try to brace for impact against these grief milestones by keeping myself busy and surrounded with people I love. So I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather spend this second deathiversary with than my beautiful new granddaughter.

Dan worshiped his Grandpa and couldn’t wait to be one himself. It was his one dying regret. So as I held this sweet little girl, part of my heart felt that familiar ache for him. He should have been here. He would have loved her instantly and fiercely. Dan would have spoiled her rotten and included her in all kinds of shenanigans that her parents wouldn’t approve of, and then laughed about it. He would have been the coolest Grandpa ever.

Circle of Life

Tutu, tell me another story about Grandpa Dan.

But the other part of my heart was full of joy. Because, as I held the world’s most perfect grandchild until my arms were ready to fall off, I realized I’m now the one who gets to tell her all about her Grandpa Dan. How funny he was, how smart he was, how handsome he was, and what a knuckle-dragging cretin he could be. I get to be the cool Granny that gets her in all kinds of shenanigans. Life goes on, and we’ll be living it to the fullest, just like her Grandpa Dan did.  (Anyone else hearing Circle of Life from Lion King in their head right now? No? Just me?)

It’s strange to think of her growing up in a world without him. But, just like me, she’ll be surrounded by people who love her and will keep his memory alive. So as I sit here gazing at this beautiful sleeping angel, I’m marking the 2nd Year Deathiversary Milestone officially survived. Thanks to everyone for the messages of support, today and every day.

XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.

Special thanks to M and K for the opportunity to not only be a Grandma, but to spend this day with their precious angel.

Post Soundtrack

You Should Be Here, Cole Swindell

It’s perfect outside. It’s like God let me dial up the weather.
Got the whole crew here, I ain’t seen some of them in forever.
It’s one of those never-forget-it-better-stop-and-take-it-in kinda scenes.
Everything’s just right, yeah, except for one thing.

You should be here, standing with your arm around me here.
Cutting up, cracking a cold beer, saying cheers, hey y’all it’s sure been a good year.
It’s one of those moments, that’s got your name written all over it.
And you know that if I had just one wish it’d be that you didn’t have to miss this
You should be here.

You’d be taking way too many pictures on your phone.
Showing them off to everybody that you know back home.
And even some you don’t, yeah
They say now you’re in a better place
And I would be too if I could see your face.

You should be here, standing with your arm around me here.
Cutting up, cracking a cold beer, saying cheers, hey, y’all it’s sure been a good year.
It’s one of those moments, that’s got your name written all over it.
And you know that if I had just one wish it’d be that you didn’t have to miss this.
Aw you should be here.

You’d be loving this, you’d be freaking out, you’d be smiling, yeah
I know you’d be all about what’s going on right here right now.
God, I wish somehow you could be here.

Oh, you should be here.

Yeah, this is one of those moments that’s got your name written all over it
And you know that if I had just one wish it’d be that you didn’t have to miss this.
Aw you should be here.
You should be here.

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedintumblrmail

4 Days in San Diego (Home Sweet Old Home)

By 2 Comments

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedintumblrmail

A Wandering Widow Post

“Coming back is the thing that enables you to see how all the dots in your life are connected, how one decision leads you to another, how one twist of fate, good or bad, brings you to a door that later takes you to another door, which aided by several detours–long hallways and unforeseen stairwells–eventually puts you in the place you are now.”
Ann Patchett, What Now

A few days after I visited San Francisco, I decided to head out for some long overdue girl time. Hello, sunny San Diego!  I lived in this beautiful seaside city for eight years, and it felt a bit like coming home. You know being a tourist is never high on my list, but compromising with the bestie, who had never been to San Diego, made for some interesting outings. And it’s true, you can never really go home again. So much had changed since I lived there 14 years ago, that I was seeing most of my old stomping grounds for the first time. It’s amazing how much you can see and do in four short days.

XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.

Click here for my San Diego photo album.

Day 1

Life looks better from the deck of a boat.

One of the things I love about San Diego is the ability to get a direct flight from Boise. We checked into the Hard Rock Hotel, right in the heart of the Gaslamp Quarter as soon as we landed. If you’re going to stay in the city, this is a perfect location. The rooms are fantastic, as are the service, wifi, and amenities. Where else can you check out a Fender guitar or an old school record player for your room? Drinks poolside at Float was the perfect way to start our rock star trip, with an amazing view, generous drinks, and a pool party.

Walking the Gaslamp Quarter is the best way to scope out the many dining options available. We had brunch at Rustic Root, home of the best Crab and Fried Green Tomato Eggs Benedict on the planet. Be sure to sit upstairs on the patio to enjoy the view of the farmer’s market below if you’re there on a weekend.

The big loop will take you to PETCO Park, the Convention Center, the harbor, and Sea Port Village. Need a break? Stop in at Roy’s for drinks on the patio and a view of the yachts.

While you’re there, be sure to make dinner reservations at Nobu, located on the ground floor of the Hard Rock Hotel. Nobu is famous for his Iron Chef role, but he is a mad genius when it comes to Asian Fusion cuisine. I had the best meal of my life there and, since I’m an international foodie, that is saying something. Everything I sampled was better than what I’d just got done declaring as the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth. The combination of flavors was beautiful, and I fell in love. I would have married this meal and had its babies, it was THAT good. (My mouth is watering just thinking about it.)

Day 2

Coronado Island

Beach Day! We took the ferry to Coronado Island for less than $5, something locals never do. But what a view of the skyline from the water! After a 20 minute walk into town we reached the Hotel del Coronado. We spent the day at The Del, dining, drinking, and lounging on the beach. For those of you who like old movies, The Del is where they filmed Some Like It Hot with Marilyn Monroe.

Pacific Beach

Sunset from the end of Crystal Pier in Pacific Beach.

That evening we continued our beach theme with a trek out to Pacific Beach (or PB for locals) to have dinner at Waterbar.  (PB is a short $20 Uber ride from the Gaslamp Quarter.) After our ocean front meal, we strolled to the end of Crystal Pier to watch the sun set over the pacific. It was a bit chilly, so bring a sweater if you decide to do this. (Do it!) We didn’t see the famous green flash, but I never saw it when I lived here either, and am convinced it’s something the weathermen made up to get us to pay attention to them.

After Ubering back to the Gaslamp Quarter we had a nightcap at Lou and Mickey’s, a beautiful old bar that’s been in the Gaslamp since the 40s. The white coated waiters and the dark hardwood bar transport you back in time, when life was a little more elegant. Definitely worth a stop for drinks, if not one of their famous steak dinners.

Day 3

Balboa Park

We started our morning with a stroll through Balboa Park to look at the historic buildings from the 1915 Panama-California Exposition. Unlike San Francisco who tore most of theirs down, San Diego’s World’s Fair buildings anchor the heart of Balboa Park.

If you’re already at the park, be sure to have lunch at the Prado, where you can dine al fresco next to bubbling fountains. A perfect break after climbing 152 stairs to the top of the tower at the Museum of Man (worth it for the panoramic views of the city).

Memories in Marble at Miramar National Cemetery

When I take time to think about it, my grief journey started years before I heard the word cancer, I just didn’t know it. We didn’t talk about those things back then. Before anything else, San Diego is a military town. The last time I was here I was married to a Marine Corps Drill Instructor. After 9/11 I saw lots of names scroll through the evening news casualty updates of kids that he’d trained. I saw names of friends, and saw my friends become widows. I became obsessed with that list. It wasn’t until I moved to Idaho, where that roster only mattered if the names were Idaho kids, that I was able to finally distance myself from it.

That Marine Corps DI and I stayed in touch over the years, eventually rebuilding the friendship our relationship was based upon. I was heartbroken to learn that he, too, became a casualty of his military service. The year before Dad and Dan died, Russ became a PTSD suicide victim. (Yeah, I lost the three men I loved most in the world all in a two-year time span. Don’t ever tell me I need to think positive. I do a pretty damned good job of staying positive, if I do say so myself.) And while I typically avoid cemeteries and graveyards, this was one I had to visit while I was in town.

When I lived in San Diego, this cemetery didn’t exist. It wasn’t dedicated until 2010. It was surreal to be sitting at his grave, hearing the fighter jets buzz overhead from the air station next door, our last duty station. Despite being new, there were already rows and rows of marble headstones. I wasn’t prepared for how emotional it would be. That afternoon I learned how soft and smooth marble is to the touch, and how sharp the names are when they are of someone you loved, and how loud your voice is when it echoes off marble rows.

Padres Game at Petco Park

As long as I’d lived in San Diego, I never saw the Padres play live. I kick myself for that now. I can only imagine what it would have been like to see the great Tony Gwynn running across home plate. But, there’s no time like the present. Petco Park had just finished construction when I moved away so it was fun to tour this amazing baseball stadium. Just like the song says, nights are better under neon or stadium lights.

Day 4

Old Town

With a late afternoon flight, we had time to take in a few more sights on our last day. From the Gaslamp, we took the green line on the red trolley to Old Town for $2.50. After touring San Diego’s version of Williamsburg, we enjoyed lunch and the best margaritas in San Diego. If you like ghosts, check out the Whaley house museum. Take photos of the dining room to see if you can see the dog under the dining table. (And then send me a photo since I couldn’t see it.)

Little Italy

On your way back to the Gaslamp, make a stop in Little Italy for a walk about before your ticket expires. Little Italy is home to fun cafes, restaurants and shops. Back when I lived in SD, the Trolley only had one line, so it was cool to see how much it’s grown. It’s clean, cheap, and easy to use.

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedintumblrmail

The Non-Timeline Grief Timeline (or What Do You Mean the 2nd Year is Worse?)

By 4 Comments

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedintumblrmail

 

Disclaimer: I’m not a counselor. Not even close. I’m a warrior widow and survivor of the worst grief can throw at you. These are just my observations. If you’re in crisis please seek professional help.

A Grief Recovery Post

“They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite”
Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

Have you ever worked hard to achieve a goal, only to have someone tell you that the worst part is still ahead? That’s what happened to me last year as I got close to Dan’s one-year deathiversary. As hellish as the first year AD (after Dan) was, I’d already started hearing that the second year was even worse. Are you kidding me? I barely made it through the first one alive, so this wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

I’ve watched the Widows ahead of me, my mentors and biggest advocates, seem to struggle even more as they reached this 2-year milestone. My theory is that both we, the grieving, and our friends and family, believe we should be “better” after the first year.

SIDE NOTE: Can you believe some people actually congratulate Widows on making it to the finish line? Or tell her that she’s survived the first year so can survive anything?  Wrongo bongo! Folks, file that under What Not To Say and accept that Years 2+ still suck. Oh, and for the record, saying something like that to a W is a total cop out. We know it really means, “Whew. So glad that year of being there for you is done. Really glad I don’t have to grief with you anymore. Peace out.”

Brace Yourself

So, as I get closer to that date (T-26 Days for those of you keeping track), I’ve been bracing myself for the worst. We are all different, but when I see a trend I tend to accept that some things just are.

Instead of being upset about these dire warnings, I’m relieved. I’m the kind of person who likes to know what may be ahead. Just ask anyone who has ever tried to navigate while I’m driving. (Recovering control freak, remember?) It’s one of the reasons I was so frustrated no one warned me what to expect with grief, and why I share that information with new W’s and their friends and families. Forewarned is forearmed, or something like that.

The Non-Timeline Timeline

I can’t stress enough that there is NO grief timeline. The Kübler-Ross 5 Stages of Grief model may have been the worst thing to happen to the grieving, since it implies that grief is linear and finite, but that’s a post for another day. However, as unique as our grief journeys are, some things are common enough it helps to be aware of them. So here’s my quick rundown on what MAY happen and when.

In the Beginning

The first few weeks you’re still in shock. You’ll be busy with funeral arrangements and will usually be surrounded by people. Most of those people will disappear after the funeral. That’s when it gets messy. Being suddenly abandoned to be alone with your grief is like falling through the trapdoor to hell.

Your first few months as a Widow, you will still be in shock, even though you’re in the worst pain of your life. Yeah, your brain is protecting you and you are still in shock. Just like when your brain makes you fall down when your blood pressure gets too low, it shuts off your ability to process the feelings completely. It’s the only way we survive. You will get your tenses confused between past and present. I often mixed them in a single sentence! The first time someone calls you a Widow to your face is a shock. Same goes for referring to your beloved as your late husband.

You may or may not seek grief counseling. (For the record, I champion grief counseling for everyone, and as soon as possible.) Insomnia, depression, PTSD, social anxiety, lack of appetite, excessive drinking, suicidal thoughts (including accidental suicide risks), physical pain and foggy widow brain are all common. Yeah, the $hit no one warned me about, which is why I’m sharing it with you.

When the Shock Wears Off

Somewhere between months four and seven, the shock starts to wear off. I know it’s hard to believe that you’re still in shock because of all the pain, but it’s there. Your brain finally begins to process and accept that he REALLY isn’t coming back. Ever. Any progress you think you’ve made will go out the window.  You may be surprised that you’re back to crying all the time. This is totally normal. Textbook, even, according to my grief counselor. That doesn’t make it feel any better, but I found it mildly reassuring to know I wasn’t bat$hit crazy and probably didn’t have a brain tumor.

If this time frame happens to coincide with the holidays, birthdays, or anniversaries, it’s exponentially worse. If you haven’t sought out grief counseling yet, now is the time. I hit that shock wear off right around the five-month marker. It was also at the first anniversary of my Dad’s death, my birthday, our anniversary, and the holidays. My favorite month of the year was now known as my month of hell. If it weren’t for my grief counselor, I may have thrown in the towel.

If you’re still suffering from insomnia and aren’t getting good nutrition, your brain chemistry has changed. This exacerbates everything else. You will feel like you’re backsliding. You’re not. You may feel like you’re losing your mind. You’re not. This is when things can get REALLY ugly, and friends, family, and employers need to understand this part of the grief process.

One Year Later

Then you cross the one year mark and think to yourself, “I did it. I hated every f@#$%&g second of it but I did it.” It’s the worst, most painful anniversary ever. It’s both the day they died, taking life as you knew it with them, and the day you own your survival. You didn’t think you’d make it, but you did. You survived. And that survival is something we usually can’t bring ourselves to celebrate. It’s a confusing day, to say the least. (I have vague recollections of wearing a tiara, but I use dark humor and widow snark as a coping mechanism.)

And time continues to march forward. Another birthday passes. Then an anniversary. Then Christmas. And another New Year’s marks another year where they weren’t alive for a single day in this world.

What Now?

Turning into the wave lessens the damage. (Donegal, Ireland)

And somehow the pages of the calendar keep turning and you reach the two-year milestone. That’s where I’m at. All I’ve heard is that it will be bad. Worse than the first year. Who knows. It doesn’t feel that way right now. In fact, I feel pretty good. Happy. At peace. Hopeful. Although in recent weeks I’ve felt that grief muscle memory starting to flex, so am prepared for the worst. (Remind me later to tell you about the Memorial Day Meltdown of 2018.)

So heads up Team Lisa. It ain’t over yet. This could be a tsunami of grief or a tiny wave lapping at my feet. I won’t know til it gets here. What I do know is it will be okay. Like the big waves that used to knock me around when I was a kid at the beach, I’ll turn into the grief wave to lessen the damage. I know I’ll get through it fine, just as long as I permit myself to feel the feelings. I know that the people I love will still be there with me, no matter what. And I know that it will pass, at least until the next grief milestone gets here.

XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.

Post Soundtrack

Where I’m Going, Eels

Can’t say I know what will happen tomorrow
I can’t say I know if it’s joy or sorrow
I can’t say how long I’ll stand at the line that I’m towing
But I’ve got a good feeling ’bout where I’m going

All you see, a world so full of need
And all I need is a pocket full of seeds
Sunflowers shooting up to a sky that is glowing
And I’ve got a good feeling ’bout where I’m going

Prayed for rain, it might not come
Can’t save the day, save someone
I can’t say if the flowers will keep on growing
But I’ve got a good feeling about where I’m going

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedintumblrmail

The Wandering Widow’s Top 10 European Cities

By Leave a Comment

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedintumblrmail

A Wandering Widow Post

They’re all my favorites.

You know how parents aren’t supposed to have a favorite kid? That’s how I feel everytime someone asks me to rank the places I’ve visited. I’ve loved them all for different reasons, and most of them have ended up on my “come back and visit again” list. They all have their own beauty and magic, and their own places in my heart.

But the question won’t leave me alone. So while I really do love them all, here are my Top 10 favorites in order.

(To the cities and towns that didn’t make this list, Mama still loves you.)

XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.

 

10. Vienna, Austria.
Motto: Paris ain’t got nothin’ on us. *struts by in full bling*

My buddy, an expat living in Vienna, described it to me as having the efficiency of the Germans, the beauty and art of Paris (without the snobbery), the warmth and fun of Italy, and the diversity that comes from being a UN city. Vienna is Disney Fairytale beautiful, with more art, architecture, and music than any one place I’ve ever visited (sorry Rome and Paris, even more than you).

I managed to visit twice while I was abroad, and I will always treasure it for giving me more moments that took my breath away than any other place in Europe. Seeing Klimt’s The Kiss in person, my first opera and an orchestra performance so beautiful it brought me to tears are just a few that come to mind.

9. Killarney, Ireland.
Motto: We love Americans almost as much as we love being Irish.

Killarney and I have a special bond due to my experiences there last April. Beyond the beautiful friendships I’ve made there, Killarney National Park is one of my favorite nature places on the planet. No visit to Ireland will EVER be complete without a stop at Murphy’s Whiskey Bar or a hike up to Torc Waterfall or around the lake. It also makes a perfect home base to visit the Cliffs of Mohr, the Dingle Peninsula, and the Skellig Islands. It’s got so much natural beauty and really cool people that every time I visit I start looking at real estate so that I have an excuse to stay.

8. Isle of Skye, Scotland.
Motto: We hope you paint or write poetry because we’re even better than Pinterest and Instagram make us look.

This place is so ruggedly beautiful it’s easy to see why artists from all over the world congregate here. It’s the place I wish I could paint or write poetry about, and home to the most beautiful hiking I’ve ever done. I can’t wait to go back, and just need to time it to avoid midge and peak-tourist season!

Thanks to social media it’s a trendy destination, so be prepared for hordes of rookie campers/hikers in the summer, who are unfortunately pretty messy. (FYI if I catch you littering here I will whip out my mom card and make you clean it up.) If you’re going and need a hiking buddy, call me.

7. Tuscany, Italy.
Motto: We don’t even need the Tuscan sun to look this good. We’ve got hot flirtatious men, wine, and food.

Holy Under the Tuscan Sun Batman, this place is just like the movie. Idyllic and peaceful with life-altering gelato, pasta, and wine that are indescribably delicious. And don’t even get me started on the balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Or the olives. Did I mention the gelato? I could die fat and happy here, but won’t because Italy is an incredibly expensive place to live full time.

But Mamma Mia the men live up to their reputations. Ladies, if you need to feel beautiful, Italy is the place to be.

6. Montserrat, Spain.
Motto: The real Montserrat mystique is in Spain.

Stunning. Mesmerizing. Inspiring. I could keep going, but it sounds cliche. Just outside of Barcelona, this old mountaintop monastery town supposedly sits on ley lines and is the seat of ancient Catalan power. Whatever it may be, it is both spiritual and beautiful. I visited twice while I was there, and am working on figuring out the best time to go back to stay at the monastery and hike the surrounding mountains. The first sunrise I saw over the valley below took my breath away, and I can’t stop thinking about going back.

5. Bucharest, Romania.
Motto: We eat meat with a side of meat, and make spirits as strong and fun as we are.

Like many cities in transformation, Bucharest has a great vibe. Everything is affordable (from a visitor’s perspective), and it offers the best of modern and historic all in one, with a few remnants of communism and a dictator thrown in for flavor. From the modern Vegas-style spas, malls, and clubs, to the decrepit old buildings still waiting for restoration, Bucharest is a study in contrasts and will always hold a special place in my heart. Rich in history and culture, you can also find diverse dining and music options everywhere. I even found one of my favorite Grafton Street buskers here!

But, hands down, my favorite thing about Bucharest is my Ikeda-Nicolau family. I’d been on the road so long I’d forgotten what it felt like to be part of a family, and this bunch took me under their wing, sharing their lives, home, country, and friends with me.

4. Edinburgh, Scotland.
Motto: We invented hipster beards and have unicorns. Watchu got?

Land of kilts, cute knees, and beards Edinburgh has it all: the food, the pubs, the music, hiking, beaches, history, and the people. I could live here in a nano-second and never get bored. And super easy transit means I’d never have to drive. And yes, the national animal of Scotland is the unicorn. A freaking unicorn!

3. Amstelveen, The Netherlands.
Motto: We don’t need marijuana to be happy, we have flowers and cheese and are really smart.

Flowers for days! Being there during the flower festival was like Christmas for this gardener and flower child. Home to art and history and as much time on the water as you could want, you can’t go wrong. Amstelveen is home to the Amsterdam Forest, one of my favorite happy places on this planet. I sometimes still dream I’m on one of my daily walks and can almost breathe in the sweet smell of the woods and hear the birds singing. I swear that place is magic.

 

 

2. Oban, Scotland.
Motto: We make gorgeous single malt whisky, brawny men, and ocean sunsets. ‘Nuff said.

I love it for the ocean, the woods, the people, the seafood and the single malt. This small western Scottish town is the gateway to the Hebrides (I’m in love with the islands!) and home to one of my favorite distilleries. With a few more sweaters and plaid shirts, I could live here full time, happy as a coldwater clam.

1. Belfast, Northern Ireland.
Motto: Once you go Belfast craic you’ll never go back.

I know, you’re all stunned that Belfast is my favorite child. After all, I only managed to visit three times during my time abroad. If it weren’t for my UK visa expiring, I would have stayed even longer, but my next visit is in the books, which helps with my withdrawal symptoms.

It has everything except the sunshine, but a Belfast with perfect weather wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the world. And while I want all of you to visit, I also don’t want you to price me out of the real estate market. It’s got a great location to access the rest of Ireland and the UK and is still reasonably affordable. And although international flights through Belfast are sorely lacking, it’s only two hours (an easy train or bus ride) from Dublin International Airport.

For those who still have old ideas about Belfast, it’s not the place you used to see on the television news. It’s incredibly vibrant and offers everything you could want. Still not sure? I will personally show you around my favorite city in Europe if you’re willing to give it a shot. A shot of my favorite Irish single malt that is. (And if that doesn’t work for you I’ll get you connected with Northern Ireland’s best tour guide, my friend Will, who does this for a living.)

The people, the music, and the craic will bring me back every single time. I still dream about it, sometimes waking up thinking I’m there. I can’t get enough, and it will always be the place my heart jumps to on Friday nights when I should be at McHughs with my Belfast Bestie, any time I hear an Irish song, and every time I think of “going home.”

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedintumblrmail

A Ridealong with the Caldwell Police Department

By 2 Comments

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedintumblrmail

 

Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?
Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?

A Wandering Widow Post

Back when we were both healthy and dreaming of the future, Dan and I took the time to write out our bucket lists. We taped them up so we could always be reminded of the things we wanted to do. And we were able to do a few of them before he died.

From the time we started dating, he’d been bugging me to do a ridealong with the Caldwell Police Department, where he had been a reserve officer before he met me. It sounded like fun, so it went on my list. But life got busy and it never happened. After he died my list got packed up with everything else and forgotten.

The Bucket List

When I got back to the United States a month ago (Holy Hannah has it been a month already?) I took a look at it again. My eyes scrolled down the list, feeling pretty good about myself for checking off 80% of them. And then they stopped on the ridealong. I was overdue for an adventure, so this seemed perfect.

The Write Along

Writer reporting for duty.

After reaching out to a friend at Caldwell PD, I was able to get on the calendar for a Saturday evening of a long weekend, right before a full moon. After completing my liability waivers, I arrived at the department. I was channeling my Richard Castle and was prepared to take lots of notes and photos so I could write about the experience. And I wasn’t disappointed. It was an action-packed night. For me, anyway. I’m told it was a pretty standard Saturday.

Corporal Ryan Bendawald met me at the front door, and we didn’t waste any time. Into the car we went, out to get the bad guys off the streets. In the five hours we spent together, I got to learn about him, life as a police officer, and the crime-fighting process. For those of you hoping for cop staches and doughnuts, you’re out of luck. The officers of CPD are lean, mean fighting machines; both fit and fast. Corporal Bendawald was also articulate, funny, and easy to talk to; a perfect ambassador for the department and a citizen rider.

The Man Behind the Badge

Safe, sound, and a lot smarter about how all this works. Thanks Corporal Bendawald!

Regular readers know one of my favorite things about traveling is meeting people and learning their stories. This was no different. I got to hear about the Corporal’s history in law enforcement, his role as a Field Training Officer, and his experiences in Gang and Drug Enforcement. Unlike many of his peers, Bendawald didn’t grow up with childhood dreams of becoming a police officer. He didn’t move to law enforcement until after leaving a professional golf career. And he has dreams of the future that don’t include running after bad guys, but do include travel and the chance to chef it up at his own restaurant.

That’s right ladies, he cooks. And if you’re nice, he may share the secret to best coffee drink you can get in Caldwell.

The Action

Don’t do drugs and drive and watch TV all at the same time.

Our conversation filled the space between calls. It was a bit confusing at first, since there were two channels going in the car, one for dispatch and one for the officers on night shift. I got really excited when I heard UnSub come over the radio, just like on TV. But I quickly forgot about it as we got busy responding to domestic violence calls, voyeurs, loud party complaints, and drunk drivers.

Do you know what constitutes a pursuit rating on a police car? Or which houses are drug and gang houses? Can you identify what makes something suspicious behavior? Do you know what proactive policing is, and how all body cameras aren’t created equal? I do, now.

On a tip, we “staked out” a guy with five outstanding warrants, and caught him! Well, Corporal Bendawald caught him. Unlike Richard Castle, I followed instructions to stay in the car. I got to experience my first car chase when he realized we were waiting for him and sped off.  And then I got to see my partner fly out of the car so fast, when the suspect decided to take off on foot, that I couldn’t even get video. Yeah. Lean, mean fighting machine indeed.

Intake at County Jail

Intake is a long slow process.

With our guy secured in the back seat, we headed to the Canyon County Jail to drop him off for his extended stay. It’s been years since I went on a tour there with Leadership Nampa, and it’s even worse for wear these days. (Geez Louise, Canyon County peeps, approve the new jail already!)

Intake isn’t like it is on TV. We were there almost an hour before our guy could even be processed because a lady had been brought in before us with a purse. When they have to inventory every single possession you have, full purses are a nightmare for them. (Now I know why Dan used to always just hand me my purse instead of trying to find things himself.)

Some stuff is the same as TV. Evidence bags are handed over, belongings are inventoried, jail shoes and clothes are issued, and mug shots are taken. And did you know they have to read the person being brought in every single warrant? This guy had five so it took awhile.

And they ask all kinds of psychological questions. I could answer a lot of them the wrong way, especially the ones about losing someone you loved. But I’m glad these questions are part of the intake process. I can’t imagine someone grieving coming through the system without anyone aware that they may be emotionally and psychologically at risk.

Seeing the Best and Worst in People

After I got out of jail (sorry, couldn’t resist) we were back at it. For a quiet night, it seemed pretty action packed to me. The worst part of the evening was the heartbreaking Emergency Room stop for a rape call that involved a minor. A second rape call would come in shortly after that. WTF!

I’m a person that always looks for the best in people. I choose to believe that people are basically good. But I’ve had conversations with Dan and other cops over the years about why they automatically look at everyone as a suspect. When you spend all of your time chasing down bad guys, I can see how it happens. Nothing we saw really affected me until the rape calls, which made me sick and angry. I guess that’s why I’d never make a good cop since I kinda wanted to go all Deadpool on the rapists.

That’s a Wrap

We drove back to the Department so Corporal Bendawald could complete his reports. Since I was already yawning, I didn’t think I’d be able to stay awake watching him type, despite his generous offer to see his lean, mean typing machine skills in action.

So there you have it. One night in the life at CPD. I learned a lot, and have a much better understanding about why Dan did some things the way he did. Proactive police work in our community prevents a lot of violence from escalating. We’re so lucky to have the men and women that step up to protect us.

I’m declaring this bucket list item officially checked off.

XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.

Special thanks to the Caldwell Police Department, Lieutenant Seevers, Sergeant Crupper, and Corporal Bendawald for making my ridealong happen.

I will always have a soft spot in my heart for CPD. When Dan died, I received an overwhelming number of calls and messages from his Brothers in Blue offering their condolences and offers of help, even if I’d never met them. (I can’t even say that about his Army buddies.) It’s so much more than a fraternity, it’s a family.

Post Soundtrack

Most People Are Good (Luke Bryan)

I believe kids oughta stay kids as long as they can
Turn off the screen, go climb a tree, get dirt on their hands
I believe we gotta forgive and make amends
Cause nobody gets a second chance to make new old friends
I believe in working hard for what you’ve got
Even if it don’t add up to a hell of a lot

I believe most people are good
And most Mama’s oughta qualify for sainthood
I believe most Friday nights look better under neon or stadium lights
I believe you love who you love
Ain’t nothing you should ever be ashamed of
I believe this world ain’t half as bad as it looks
I believe most people are good

I believe them streets of gold are worth the work
But I’d still wanna go even if they were paved in dirt
I believe that youth is spent well on the young
‘Cause wisdom in your teens would be a lot less fun
I believe if you just go by the nightly news
Your faith in all mankind would be the first thing you lose

I believe most people are good
And most Mama’s oughta qualify for sainthood
I believe most Friday nights look better under neon or stadium lights
I believe you love who you love
Ain’t nothing you should ever be ashamed of
I believe this world ain’t half as bad as it looks
I believe most people are good

I believe that days go slow and years go fast
And every breath’s a gift, the first one to the last

I believe most people are good
I believe most people are good

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedintumblrmail