We Got Lucky

A Life with Annie

We celebrated Annie's birthday this week. We try not to let these celebrations gain an outsize importance. A moment of reflection on years's past and a glimpse into a possible future bring the present close. Sixty-one is a good age. Another step along the path, a year removed from the grand turn from fifty-nine to sixty. One year ago we bought tickets to France to celebrate both of our birthdays; then ten months ago I was diagnosed with cancer with metastases to my brain. Time shifts quickly and celebrations of our birth fade in importance to just waking up everyday. We cancelled our plans for France.

Annie up front with her sister and mom and dad c. 1971, Mill Valley, California

Annie grew up in Mill Valley, Calif. I was a military brat, most recently from Colorado. In 1974, I went from mountains, pine trees and snow to scrub oak, eucalyptus, and redwoods, from lakes and rivers to the Pacific ocean. I was shy and she was outgoing. We were starting the seventh grade. We went to the same bus stop at Tamalpais Elementary School where the bus would pick us up from the front of the school and deliver us to Middle School. A small group of students would huddle in the covered opening of the front door. I didn't know anybody so I would wait around the corner of the building until the bus pulled up then run to be the last one on board to avoid talking with anyone.

Annie Withers and Lars Wanberg at 13 years old

Mill Valley Middle School was relatively new and just a few miles away, built in a quad of four smaller schools named Sea, Sun, Wind and Wood. I was in Sea School, Annie was in Sun. The four schools were connected to a large common area in the center that housed the library. It had a high, open ceiling with lots of window light. A long hallway connected the four schools together. Since we were in opposite ends of the school, it was here that I saw Annie the most, always at a distance, watching her distinctive walk in white Chemin de Fer jeans. It took until Freshman year in high school for me to have the courage to talk to her.

15 years old at Alpine Lake, Mt. Tam, 16 years old at Tamapais High School, Mill Valley, Calif.

In September of 8th grade year my mom died suddenly in a horse accident. My shyness held me back, but the complicated grief I felt built a barrier between me and the everyday world. Later, as a high school freshman, I acted out with pot and alcohol. My home life was empty, my dad occupied with work and his own grief. Annie and I were both in football culture — I would unleash my anger by using my head as a weapon, Annie would unleash her joy by dancing and cheering on the sidelines. Our paths crossed enough during football season that I became comfortable speaking to her. At a party at Jeff Flores's house in Tam Valley, I kissed her. We were 14. Annie still had braces.

Lars and Annie at 17 years old, Fall 1979 Mill Valley, California

I continued my bad-boy party scene, partly as a numbing agent, partly as the cost of belonging to my social group, and partly from the culture of Marin County, a haven for rockers, philosophers and gurus post Summer of Love. Annie wasn't having it. She told me to grow up and get my act together, I was so much better than the kid getting stoned at school. That was the first time Annie saved me.

Photo Booth at Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, Senior Day, June 1980. Annie is pregnant with Katrin.

We dated throughout high school. Just before graduation we suspected Annie was pregnant. We were married in August of 1980 and Katrin was born in February. An so our long life together began. I've been asked many times the secret to our success and I find it easier and quicker to say we got lucky. But I know the reason, I just didn't have the words to explain it. Margaret Renkle in her book Late Migrations: A Natural History of Love and Loss wrote "the shadow side of love is aways loss, grief is only loves's own twin." I believe there was a cosmic trade-off, a bargain with the universe, a payment from God for the pain of losing my mother so early. I would learn the deeper truths at a young age about love and commitment. I would live a good life with Annie.

USC Norris Cancer Center, Los Angeles, Calif.

Forty-five years later, Annie has saved me many times. Now, with Stage IV cancer, I can't help but see a similar bargain with the universe. The bookends of loss in my life have magnified the years I've had in between. I thought I would grow old with Annie, and with the amount of miracles I've experienced, I still might. If not, I am grateful for the gift we've been given even if I don't understand how it all works. Sometimes it's just easier to say we got lucky.