trib•ute:
a : something given or contributed voluntarily as due or deserved; especially : a gift or service showing
respect, gratitude, or affection
b : something (as material evidence or a formal attestation) that indicates
the worth, virtue, or effectiveness of the one in question.


This blog is our tribute to a man worth knowing. A man worth loving. A man worth remembering.



Tuesday, December 4, 2012

I'm Scared of Christmas

As December 25th approaches, a million things are running through my head. Has it really been 3 years since I kissed him, held his hand, made love to him? I miss my best friend so much, and 3 years means nothing. It hasn't made it easier. If anything, it's harder. What do I do? How do I stop hurting?

I haven't made the best choices in these 3 years. Sometimes people say "What would Justin think if he
could see you now?" Like that's supposed to hurt me. You know what he would do? He would take me in his arms and swing me back and forth and say "It'll all be ok now." He was the most understanding person I've ever met.

So, 3 years later I'm alone and broke and missing him just as much. Sometimes I hear a voice or see a face that reminds me of him and it knocks my breath right out of my lungs. I pray that he comes to me in my dreams, I miss him so much. I just miss doing nothing with him.


So here comes Christmas, the day he died, and all I can think is "Merry Christmas, right?" Happy holidays? Sure. Bring my husband back and then we'll talk.

Just one more dance...

Thursday, January 13, 2011

We Really Need To Change Our Defintion of What is Romantic

I remember when I was little, my idea of love was the Prince Charming who brought me chocolates and flowers, doted on me every second of the day, thought I was beautiful all the time, even if I didn't shower for a day or two.

That was not Justin.

At first that bothered me. But really, isn't true love situational? Open to individual interpretation?

Here's the thing: Justin only brought me flowers (orange lilies) three times in our 5 1/2 years of marriage. But what do I care about that? He loved me in his words and deeds every single day.

Here is my interpretation of true love after my life with Justin:

True love is the man who makes you 25 burned CD's he knew you wanted, sets them by your car, you don't notice them and accidently run them over, crushing every last one, and he shrugs and makes 25 more.

True love is when he calls you on the phone every hour to tell you he can't live without you, and five and a half years later, up until the day he dies, he texts you every hour from work to make sure you know he loves you.

True love is waking up to an engine roaring, parking outside your window at 6 am, hearing it turn off, a car door slam, another car door open, an engine turn on and drive away, and then you doze back to sleep. You don't realize until hours later, when you go to leave early for work, he went and filled your gas tank after a 12 hour shift. When he was dead-dog tired.

I always think of these words of wisdom:

"Goodness is love in action, love with its hand to the plow, love with the burden on its back, love following his footsteps who went about continually doing good."

Wasn't that Plumey, through and through?

I don't even know why I'm asking that. I knew him. And he loved me. You knew him. And he loved all of you. He never showed it the "typical" way.

Would we expect that?

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Friday, December 25, 2009

As December 25th has been approaching, I've just been dreading it. My mind connects to things like dates and times, as probably most of your minds do. So I've known all along that I will think of exactly what I was doing at certain times that whole day. I'm sorry if this is wierd for anyone, but I feel like I need to write about this day. Writing it out, sharing, seems to me like it will make it easier.


The last really conscious memory I have of Justin is kind of silly. We were best friends with our neighbors, Jeff and Sara, across the hall. We had been hanging at their place, and Justin had gone to bed because he had to work in the morning, but I stayed to play cards. There were five of us hanging out. I ran home to grab something, and I saw Justin snoring away on the bed with our obese cat Goose nestled in his arms. It was so cute, I had to go back and sneak everyone from the other aprtment in to peak at him. As we were looking on, he rustled, yawned, looked up and said "What are you guys doing?" We all giggled and snuck out to let him go back to sleep.


Next, I have a flash of a memory of him tucking me in at 5:00 am, kissing me, telling me he loved me. That was the last time I saw him alive. And I just rolled over and fell back asleep.


He texted me several times throughout the day to tell me he loved me. He was excited because we had 3 couples and some of his guy friends coming over for the Blazer game that night.


I called him around 3:30pm to say hi, see how he was doing. Usually when I would call Justin at work, someone would answer, I would ask for Justin, and they would radio him to tell him I was on the phone. I could always hear them call him, "Justin Florek, your wife's on the phone." And then I could hear Justin reply in the background, over the radio, and shortly, he would be on the line with me. This time, when they radioed him, there was no reply. For the first time in five years, no reply. I remember thinking it was a bit strange, but not anything serious. They said they would have him call me back.


No call. But I was busy. I was cleaning, making food, etc. in preparation for our company. at 6:00 pm everyone began to arrive, and I was busy in the kitchen making margaritas. Around 6:25 I started to get annoyed because we were all waiting for Justin to get home so we could start the game.


At around 6:40 there was a knock at the door. That annoyed me even more, because I was elbows deep in limes, and why couldn't Justin just pull out his keys and open the door himself. I ran over and flung open the door. Not Justin. A police officer and another man. Asking for me. Seriously, my thoughts were "What in the world did I do?" They asked me if they could talk privately, seeing as my house was full of people. I took them out to the hall and downstairs in our little fourplex.


The next words I'll never get out of my head. "Have you heard from Justin? Nobody at Equa Chlor can find him. He is missing. They think he may have fallen into the salt pile." At first I thought it was a joke. How could that be? But instantly my mind went to the fact that he hadn't answered his radio earlier. My knees went weak. I knew Justin, and I knew it was bad. I told them I needed to sit down. I remember crawling up the stairs to my apartment. By the time I ot inside, I was drenched in tears and hyperventilating, with my house full of guests staring at me in bewilderment.


All I could think of was to call his mom. I tried. No answer. So I called his little brother. David answered. I could barely speak except to ask where he was. He was with the family having dinner. He gave the phone to Susie. All I could say was that Justin was missing and we needed to go to Equa Chlor. I remember her screaming, crying, not much else from that conversation.


My hands went numb, and I couldn't move my lips. I told the officer, and he said I was having an adreneline rush. He had two of my friends walk me around the block to calm me down. Then we drove to the plant.


I will never forget the sight of Justin's empty truck, windows frosted from the night chill. Empty. He hadn't left. He hadn't left me. The mind is a crazy thing, and I actually had entertained the idea that he had run away from me, from our life, and just disappeared. Seeing that truck made me wish my thoughts were true. The alternative was much worse.


The next 36 hours were a blur. Staring at the giant pile of salt. Seeing each worker come in to where the family was, sadness, fear in their eyes. Everyone wanted to find him, and nobody wanted to find him. All these ideas: "Maybe if we put some radios together to get feedback, we hear Justin's radio." Didn't work. "Maybe if we get a metal detector we can locate him in the salt pile." Didn't work. "Maybe if we bring in search dogs, they can scent him out." I watched above, from the catwalk, as the dogs searched and searched, finding hotspots, only to turn up nothing. It broke my heart to have Jim, Justin's father, next to me, saying through tears "Please, please."


They finally told us it could be days before they recovered Justin's body. And so I went home.

It was about 1:00 am Saturday morning when I went home. all I could do was put a pillow over my face and scream and scream, while my friends sat around me and cried. About an hour later, the plant called. They had found a video of someone walking on the salt pile, and needed me to confirm it was Justin. So back to the plant I went.


Of course it was Justin. On a mission, walking that walk. He walked off camera, and it occurred to me that I had probably just wintessed the last minute of his life. I stayed at the plant for the next 25 hours or so. They brought big machines in to dig through the salt, but the process was slow. At 3:00 am Sunday morning, they found Justin's stocking cap. An hour later they found his body.


And I went home and slept. I found out later that Justin's crew had insisted on carrying his body out themselves. To honor him.


I don't know why, but writing it all out and sharing it seems to help. I hope it hasn't hurt anyone in any way.





Wednesday, December 22, 2010

A Beautiful Tribute To Justin

Today was special, and sad, because we were able to place a tribute at the Equa Chlor gate for Plumey. It's the first time I have been back inside those gates since the night they told me they had recovered his body.

This is the gate into the plant. Behind it you can see a portion of the salt pile, where Justin lost his life.



Some of Justin's old coworkers, as well as some new plant employees, were able to come out and join us in putting up the poster and flowers.



The family, Heather, Karen, Jayla, Susie, Jim, Amber, and Peggy, with Justin's picture.



The Equa Chlor employees who were able to come out and share this with us.



I was so excited and happy, because all of the workers wear this sticker on their hardhats (see it in the pictures above?) in tribute to Justin (he would've especially liked this one because of the Seahawks).


A tough thing to do, going back and seeing that huge pile of salt. I can't imagine being one of the workers, having to do that everyday, especially right after it happened. But how kind of the plant to let us put Justin's picture up in memory (especially one with that offensive mustache!).


We will truly never be able to forget that smiling face.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

A poem I found that reminds me of Plumey....

You can shed tears that he is gone,
or you can smile because he has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that he'll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all he's left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see him,
or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember only that he is gone,
or you can cherish his memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.

Or you can do what he'd want:
Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

How Justin Proposed to Me

Would you believe the love of my life asked me to marry him on the phone? It went a little something like this:

Amber: Hello?

Justin: (choking and clearing throat) Yeah hi. Ummm. I love you and I can't live without you. Wanna get married?

Amber: Well....yes.

Justin: Great!

This worked for me for a few reasons. One, it was so lame that it was funny. Two, it was unique. And three, it was Justin.

This was probably the beginning of my realization that all the romantic fantasies you build up as a kid, that you see on movies, or imagine you see in real life, are farce. And this fact didn't bother me. Because I knew I would be happy. And you know what? I was right.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Piece 12 found again!

Actually, our friend Bonnie who originally reported finding Piece 12 was the SECOND person to find it, because she found it June 6th. I received this email yesterday...

Amber,

We found memory #12 at the top of the Mt. Healy overlook trail while on vacation in Denali National Park on Wednesday, June 2nd. Justin was very blessed to have such a loving wife, family and friends. The "Movember" thing is hilarious...if my wife would ever let me grow a mustache, that's how mine would look also. I've attached some photos of me, my brother-in-law and our nephew...our nephew Michael is the one that found the bottle. Also, a photo of the moose with calf...might be the same one you saw. We saw the moose while taking the bus ride through the park. Good luck with you ongoing adventures!

Greg Penner
Houston, Texas

This is the first time anyone has sent pictures of them finding the bottle, so I was super excited!



Hopefully we keep getting awesome responses like this one!!!



Monday, June 14, 2010

More Pieces found!!!

A couple more pieces were found!

I recieved two fantastic emails....


Piece #10:

"I wanted you to know I found this beautiful tribute at the Denali National Park visitors center on Sunday May 30,2010. At first I though it was something the rangers had set out to engage folks in one of the programs, the ranger was just as surprised as I was. As I opened it and read it the 4 or 5 people standing close by heard the message and each of us were touched at such a loving tribute.

I'm sorry for your loss and hope knowing Justin has touched the hearts of folks as far away as Alaska to Ohio helps your family.

Would you like me to leave this tribute for others to find? I would be happy to do that for you.
God Bless you and your family."


This next email is my favorite so far. It touched my heart that someone so young realized the importance of our project...

Piece #21:

"Mrs Florek Hello my name is EJ Penner and ive found your husbands memory in a bottel number 21 and iam 13 years old i found it at that old machinery museum in a digger thing and iam sorry about your husband and i hope your ok and iam wondering if you want me to put it back some where i dont know so if you could just emale me back. thanks"

Isn't that the sweetest? Hopefully more pieces will come out of the woodwork soon!



Thursday, June 10, 2010

And So It Ends.....


Okay, so you are probably wondering what in the world I am doing in this picture? Well, I'm collecting rocks on the side of the Alcan Highway. We gathered a ton of Canadian rocks in preparation to place our final Piece of Plumey.

We carried our rocks ALL THE WAY HOME. Then we made our dear wonderful pal Anthony hoist them in a bag over his shoulder and carry them to our backyard, where we placed them carefully into our intended pattern...


Piece 24 belongs exactly where we started. Because this is where the plan began....because this is where we spend our time missing our Plumey.

We saved this memory for last. It is not the funniest memory. It is not the most awkward memory. It is not the most entertaining memory.

But it is who Justin was, through and through. Who we will always remember him as.

He never went a day without telling me he loved me. In fact, he said it 20 times a day, and texted it to me probably at least 5 times a day when he was away at work. He made sure to say it to his mama, his pop, his aunt, his cousins, and his lil' bro every time he spoke to them.

I don't exaggerate when I say he is the best person I have ever known. He was the best person most people who met him ever knew.

The love of my life, he is in my heart and on my mind until the day I die.




Piece 24: Mt. Scott by the Brook, Portland, Oregon

Memory #24:

He was a family man. Some of his favorite times were eating his mom’s clam chowder, playing Phase 10 with his mom, aunt, brother and wife, and working on cars with his “Pop.” He just loved being with his family and making them laugh. It was important to him to make sure he always said “I love you” when he said hello, or goodbye, or anytime in between.



This is the view out my back porch balcony. Great right?


Well, this is the last post where we place a Piece of Plumey. I will still hop on and share memories as I think of them. When other pieces are found, I will make sure and post them on the blog as well.


Thank you so much for following our journey. It has helped me so much to remember him. To know he wasn't just a dream; he really existed. And he was mine.



Pieces 21, 22, 23, and home!

Well, we made it back home to Portland safe and sound around 2:30 this morning! It was nice to sleep in our own beds, but we can't wait to get back up to the last frontier!

We placed three Pieces of Plumey yesterday!

As we were driving through Quesnel, I thought I saw a tee-pee, and swerved to leave a Piece of Plumey there. Turns out tee-pees are not covered in blue tarps, and it was just someone's motor home. As we were quickly pulling out of the driveway because of the strange stares we were getting from the homeowners, we saw this....


Seriously, PERFECT place to leave Piece 21! We found an awesome tractor...








..and we slipped the piece onto the floorboard.


Piece 21: Antique Machinery Park, Quesnel, British Columbia


Memory #21:

He could sleep anywhere, and he ALWAYS snored. He started using stick on nose strips to stop the snoring. When one didn’t work, he tried two. When two didn’t work, he tried three. When three didn’t work, he gave his wife earplugs.












We didn't get a chance to see the 100-mile house on our way up, so when we saw it was coming up on the map, we both agreed it would be a great place to leave Piece 22. However, after going back and forth across the main drag of a small town that was called 100-Mile House, we couldn't find the actual house. We asked a gas attendant, and it turns out that this is a ridiculous name for the town because there actually isn't a house called that, it's just the name of the town. We were disappointed, until we saw these bad boys....





Yep, what you're seeing here are the world's largest pair of cross-country skis.
They are a whopping 39 feet tall! See me leaving my Piece of Plumey waaaay down there at the bottom?


Piece 22: Visitor's Center, 100-Mile House, British Columbia


Memory #22:

While on a bus tour of the Wicklow Mountains in Ireland, all the passengers got a shot of Jameson. The tour guide jokingly challenged the passengers to jump into the Irish Sea for an extra shot. Justin didn’t want to get his clothes wet, so instead, he just dunked his entire head into the water. The tour guide couldn’t believe it. He was the only one on the tour to get two shots.












We got lost after this and had a heck of a time trying to find the US Border. We finally crossed back into familiar territory, and when we saw the cityscape of Seattle, we knew home was just around the corner (another 3 hours).

We stopped at a cute little diner because we were STARVING. Delicious dinner, even more delicious homemade dessert! We asked for our check and I was getting ready to sign it, when I noticed a small mistake on the bill. Can you see it too?


Now, I don't consider myself to be a very stingy person, but this just seemed a little pricey to me. The waitresses eyes about popped out of her head when we pointed the mistake out to her.

So of course, we had to leave Piece 23.



Piece 23: Dave's Diner, Seattle, Washington

Memory #23:

He LOVED Blue Lake. Every year the McCulloch (his mom’s side) family would go to Eastern Washington to the wonderfully run-down Laurent’s Sun Village. They would boat, tube, fish, eat, take naps, hike, swim, and have a total blast. He looked forward to it all year long.





See me half-burying the piece by that awesome classic car?






Well, we placed all of the pieces but one, and we have to wait for nightfall to do this, because we want to do something extra-special for the final piece! Stay tuned!