Cat Lady

I'm a cat lady from way back. I love cats. They are quiet, clean, cuddly, fun, independent, good company, and undemanding. Unlike dogs, who are loud, dirty, smelly, very dependent and demanding. I am NOT a dog person. I grew up with my beloved Scampy, a spunky gray and white kitty, all gray with a white mustache and white tuxedo front. Scampy was my buddy, the one I cried to when the chips were down, cuddled with when some boy ignored me, or when a supposed "friend" left me out of the group...you know how girls can be. Scampy died when I was in college, away from home. I didn't get another kitty until I had my own apartment. That was Chatta. Don't ask about the name, it is a derivative of a spanish word for some milk drink I liked when I went to Spain for the first time. Chatta was an all white, long haired kitty I got as a tiny kitten from a friend in college. Chatta had bright green eyes. She came with me to Chicago, drove all the way from Michigan, wrapped around my neck. We were single city girls together! Chatta had alot of health problems, probably due to her long hair and my erratic work/travel/social life. She had two surgeries for kidney stones and various other trips to the vet for whatever. I lost Chatta early, she was maybe five or six years old. It broke my heart. But soon after Chatta died, I met Lou. The rest, as you know by now, is history. The interesting thing is, Lou was terribly allergic to cats. So, no more kitties for me. There were times we contemplated it, thinking we could maybe just have Lou take allergy shots, but that didn't really seem fair. So, we had the usual array of apartment pets for the kids, you know, hamsters, goldfish, lizards, snakes and the like. Nothing remotely like a kitty. Until now. Now we have Misa and Nico. We adopted two kitties from a shelter recently. Damon is his mother's son, he likes cats and has wanted a kitten for quite some time. So, we indulged ourselves with two. They are adorable. Everything kitties should be. Cuddly, playful, sweet, and oh so cute. They sleep with me. Curled up next to me, purring in my ear. In the morning, they play with each other and remind me they are hungry. It is sooo much better then waking up to an empty room. It is sooo much better then sleeping in an empty bed. It is sooooo much better then an empty apartment. They are filling those empty spaces, some of them. Not all of them, of course. But they are life, and joy. Something we desperately need around here. I'm a cat lady again. Cuddling with my kitties. It'll have to do.

Empty Spaces

It isn't easy to write lately. I'm not sure why, I certainly have plenty of thoughts and feelings spinning around. I think it is trying to figure out what this blog should now be about.....I'm sure an ongoing recount of my emptiness is going to get very old quickly. "Oh here she goes again...". I've been told by a certain son of mine that my blog is "too depressing".... DUH, YEAH....to which I say, "don't read it". Life without Lou...that's what this is about? Yesterday was Damon's 18th birthday. We celebrated it as we always do, we have a tradition to go to his very favorite restaurant for dinner, Benihanna. We've done this for so many years, even though poor Lou NEVER liked the place, he was a good sport. And we had the usual stack of presents, as Lou always wants it. I think he had a good birthday. I always pick out mushy cards for my sons, this year was no different...except it was not for "our son", it was for "my son".....there's that emptiness again.....one signature. But Lou was with us, I know he was. I know he is watching over us, and over his sons, I know he is. When I think of Lou, which is constantly, I see him as he was, before the brain tumor...healthy, strong, intense but gentle, the twinkle in his blue eyes, the rich, deep voice, his droll humor, the smell of his cologne. I don't see him sick. I'm glad. I'm so glad. When I start to feel low, or miss him, I try to think of something good...of a good memory....times together, walking arm in arm down Michigan Avenue, or just simple things like how he would call me daily at work just to say hi. And I try to fill the emptiness with these images and thoughts. Sometimes, it works. Sometimes, it brings a smile to my face. Sometimes, it fills me with a warm feeling. And I try to carry it with me, that feeling...I try to keep it, to keep that empty space filled with a good feeling. Knowing that I was once loved.......by Lou......it's a good feeling.

Numb

Soon, it will be two weeks since Lou left us. That was another life it seems. Since that time, we've stood for four hours straight, shaking the hands of something like 175 well wishers at the visitation, we drove 3 hours each way to Peoria for the burial, and we held a wonderful memorial service and reception here in Chicago. Now, we are numb. At least I am. It seems the only word I can use to describe this. Numb, and in a fog. Going through the motions. Feel like someone kicked me in the gut. Feel neither here nor there. Strange, very very strange. Think I need to rush home when I'm out somewhere. Think I need to pick something up for Lou, ie: prescriptions, or something he might like to eat. Hear his voice, see his face. Wish he were still sitting in that chair.......even in his weakened state. Wish I could hold his hand. And hug him. His pillow is just not good enough. Everyone told me, you can never be prepared for this. They're right. We knew this was coming. But it doesn't make it any easier. The fact is, it's hard. And it will be hard. And we have to keep going. And we will keep going. Numb, and in a fog, but we will keep going.

In The Bedroom

I used to stay up late because it was "my time". It was quiet...no questions, no confusion, all that....remember? And, I always stayed in bed late,in the morning, to be with Lou. And yes, sometimes, to hide. Now I don't want to go to bed, only for different reasons. I don't like going into the bedroom. The bedroom that now seems so empty. No hospital bed. No hospital table. No medical type recliner chair. No various other paraphenalia that became a part of our daily life. The room seems bare. And empty. Yes, it is empty. Something is missing. Someone is missing. Someone is definitely missing. When I finally turn in, I cling to the pillow Lou used his last day....I'll keep the pillow case on it until it rots I think. In the morning, I will pull the covers up and hide again. Only I hide alone. I long for that hospital bed beside me that I so desperately did not want when it came. I long for all the clutter that invaded our room in order to take care of Lou. And most of all, of course, I long for him.

The Wave

So much for sunshine. So much for crisp fall days. So much for "signs". So much for being ok. I see how this goes. Yesterday, I rode the wave, bobbing on top, today, the wave sweeps over me, and I'm lost. This is how it goes. In and out. Ebb and flow. Sun and clouds. OK and not ok. It's gray today. And I couldn't get out of bed. Hiding again. Only this time, hiding alone. The wave will carry me through this week. And into the next. And one of these days, the sun will shine again. And one of these days, it will be ok. It will be ok, because it HAS to be ok. I will make it ok. For Lou, I will make it ok , he would want that. I'm trying my love, I'm trying.

Suddenly, September

College football is back. This is how we spent Saturdays...watching, cheering, college football. Lou always loved it. Especially the last two years. Suddenly, it's September. How did we get here? Yesterday, I went outside for a breath of fresh air, for the first time in days. It was a clear, beautiful day. But the breeze had the crispness of fall, the fresh smell of fall, carrying the stickiness of summer away. Summer is gone. Not that it matters. There was no summer. No golf, no beach, no Cubs games. Who cares, really. There will be other summers. Someday, there will be summer again. Now, suddenly, it's September. September used to mean fresh starts to me...new school year and all, new clothes, new teachers. Loved the fall...the colors of leaves changing, apples, bonfires, football games, cool evenings, sweaters, plaids. And then I met Lou. It was September when we bumped into each other on Michigan Avenue, and something "happened". Something very magical happened. That piercing look he had. I walked away knowing something special had happened, but I wasn't sure what. That feeling grew into that "catch your breath" pit in the stomach. And then we bumped into each other again. It was weird. Eerie. And then he asked me out. The rest is history. He proposed on our first date. I told him to take me home. I ignored him for a few weeks. Ignored the single roses he sent with notes. Ignored the copy of The Little Prince he sent. And then I couldn't ignore it anymore. I accepted another date. And then he proposed again. I decided to "get to know him better". That resulted in a real proposal on Christmas morning, complete with a beautiful ring. It all started in the fall. The last two falls have been awful. All I can remember are foggy, gray, rainy, chilly days. And tears. Lots of those. From all of us. And Lou, trying to find a way through this. The last few days of Lou's life were gray, foggy, rainy, again. It seemed fitting. But the day he left us was sunny. And it's been sunny each day since. I think it is a sign. To me, it is a sign. He's ok. He's up there with his mom, his dad, Kathie, my dad, and Charlie.....and he's ok. He's sending us beautiful fall days, much like the days of our first fall...the fall when I fell....when I fell, hard. The way fall used to be, before all this. I breathe in the fresh, crisp air, and smell him. I let the sun warm me, and I feel him. I look at the sky, and I know his eyes are upon us. The church bells chime, and I hear him. He is everywhere. It's September, it's fall again, and it will be ok. Somehow, it will be ok. Thank you my love.

Farewell My Darling

Louis H. Beres 6/25/36 - 8/31/06 There are no words tonight. Just tears. Godspeed my love, Godspeed.