Do you hear what I hear?

I heard a sound I have not heard in a long, long time this morning. It was a whistle. It was Damon, whistling. Damon used to ALWAYS whistle, even in the morning. Just like his dad (and my dad, too, by the way). This from the guy who has 3 tests today and 3 college applications due tomorrow. He was whistling. Such a sweet, wonderful sound. Thank you, Damon. You made my day!

Daylight Savings

Lou always changed the clocks. It was his job. Even when he was sick, he was able to, for the most part. We have alot of clocks. Enough said.

What helps, what doesn't

Comments have dwindled a bit of late. That's understandable. Who the heck really wants to hear all this anyway? I can sort of figure it out: l.) it's more interesting to read about dealing with the process of dying from a brain tumor vs. the AFTER process, 2) it's become too depressing to read this day in and day out (be honest now folks, this is what my son says...3.) you all think it's "over" now and life should return to normal (sooooo NOT the case but I can see why people might think that), 4.) all of the above. So my friends, which is it? Lest you think I am living in a complete fog and depression, I have this to offer. SOME things make me happy. SOME things put me in a good mood. And now I am trying harder to surround myself with those things, because it helps. Life is not all bad. Not at all. Here ya go. Sorry, I sure wish I knew how to space these things so it's more readable, is that what HTML is?? Things that can help when you are grieving: l. Hugging your sons. 2. Hugging your kitties. 3. Hugging your adorable great nieces. 4. Hugging the pillow of your beloved. 5. Quad venti skim lattes with no foam, especially when the ladies at the coffee place charge you for a triple, then I overtip and end up spending even more, oh well. 6. Downloading happy tunes and playing them at maximum volume. I've just discovered itunes, a little behind, i know. Can't wait to see THAT bill. I'm reverting back..it's the Cars, Sting, Tom Petty, Grateful Dead, all that good old stuff. It's not music to nurse a brain tumor by. That's why it's so helpful. 7. Movies. Best night out....movies with girlfriends. Escapism. Even better when cocktails are involved afterwards. 8. Fresh air. Sunshine, when there is some. 9. Immersing myself in a good book. Not good when it keeps you up until 4 am however. 10. Talking on the phone. Especially AFTER I've had the quad venti skim latte. Things that do NOT help when you are grieving: 1. Listening to moody music, no matter how much you might love it. 2. Long walks by yourself. 3. Being the only single person in a large group of couples. 4. The Cardinals winning the World Series. 5. Standing at the kitchen counter and eating. Especially anything salty and crunchy that comes in a plastic bag that won't stay shut so you may as well finish it. 6. Forgetting to pay the bills. 7. People who expect too much too soon from you. Expecting too much too soon from yourself. 8. The W word. Widow. There HAS to be something else, there HAS to be. 9. Wearing black. It doesn't help, except maybe for Halloween, which, ironically, is the two month anniversary..... 10. Spending too much time on the computer. Speaking of which, time to go get some fresh air.

FOR EVER

This was the week it hit me. This is FOREVER. And that forever means FOR EVER. I will never see Lou again, in this lifetime. That's what hit me this week, for some reason. Must be the two month mark coming up. On Halloween, no less. Two months. That's just a blink of an eye compared to what stretches before me. And what is now behind me. I study the last picture taken of Lou, a week before he died. We are laying in bed, snuggling. My hands are cradling his face. And he is swollen from the steroids. But he is smiling. Even in that state, he was smiling. I stare at the picture, wanting to get back IN it. Wanting to breathe life into it. Wishing I could touch him. So badly wishing I could touch him. How many times have you heard that saying, "Nothing is forever", right? Not true. This is forever. This is forever, for real. It's a very, very long time to ache.

Christmas In October

Remember the story about Lou's Christmas in July? (it should be in the archives in July if you'd like to check it out..please do!). I forgot about Christmas in October. It's Christmas in October now. You know, the decorations are up already in some places, and Marshall Fields (I will NOT call it Macy's) has their Christmas department all set up. I forgot about this. I forgot that Christmas starts in October these days. And I walked right into it. Yesterday. Got off the elevator, on a mission for a gift, and there it all was. Hit me hard. Christmas in October. Maybe starting this early will help us in some way to get through it. Maybe we will just become immune to it all. I had to walk through the Christmas decorations to get to where I was going. The thing is, I ADORE Christmas decorations. And, the thing is, Lou ADORED Christmas. That pit in the stomach, heart pounding, tears welling feeling came over me. What to do. Leave or keep walking? I kept walking. I walked through the Christmas department. Slowly. I decided to confront it head on. I looked at the ornaments and decorations. So many thoughts, pictures, and memories rushed over me. Good ones. It hurt, but it was a "good" hurt if there is such a thing. "Good", because I have such wonderful, loving memories. And that feeling is warm and it envelops me if I let it. I picked something up that I am just sure my little sweet pea Anna will like. And that made me feel good. Walking away, I realized that while Christmas will now be very different for us, it will still be Christmas. For the little ones in our family now, it will still be full of wonder and joy, and we will be a part of that. We will still have the magic of Christmas, we will find it in others. We will find it outside ourselves. That's what it's all about anyway, isn't it? So, once again, I think Lou has left us a very big lesson. This may be the Christmas we really get the true meaning of. I'll try. I just wish it didn't have to start in October.

Maiden Voyage

I'm away. I did it. I got on the plane (seven hours late due to early snow in Chicago, but that's another story), and I'm here. In the beautiful mountains of N. Carolina, on a lake, blue blue skies and leaves changing colors, with dear dear friends. But it wasn't easy. No, it wasn't. The airport. Being overwhelmed with that feeling of being kicked in the gut...Lou and I traveled in the fall, many many times with these same dear friends, now, here I was...ALONE. It's funny, because so many times, when I traveled with Lou, I WAS alone, because we usually took separate planes, by choice. It was just a thing I had, once we had kids. Lou always said, half the fun of traveling is going together, but my silly (I can say that now, in retrospect), high anxiety levels kept me from doing that. Instead, we tried to arrive at roughly the same time, then meet each other, it was sort of romantic, actually. So, traveling alone should NOT have been such a big deal for me, but it was. I haven't been on a plane in over two years, except for the overnight trip I took eighteen months ago when my dad died. So, after a seven hour delay, I arrived, and we drove the almost two hours up to our friends mountain home. Winding, dark roads, up and up some more. Upon arrival, we quickly opened the champagne, and headed out to the porch, under the dark skies, and all the stars.....ALLLLLL the stars that I never,ever get to see, living in the middle of downtown Chicago. And, there it was, right smack dab in the middle, shining brighter then any other, and twinkling....the ONLY twinkling star....as if it were winking at us....."That's Lou".....we all knew......That's Lou. He was there, with us, twinkling, winking, and laughing, just as the Little Prince passage said......it made me feel better, it did. For that moment, it did. The next morning, and every morning since, has dawned so bright and clear, trees ablaze, air so crisp. It is achingly beautiful, if there is such a thing. And I think I am lucky to be here. And I think I am lucky to have such dear friends. But oh, how I miss Lou. I think about what would have been. The times that were yet to be. We toast him, and remember him. We hold him close. And I see him, in the stars, and in my dreams. The Maiden Voyage. I made it. But I'm not really alone. He's with me. He always is. I just need to remember that.

Don't Go There

WHAT WAS I THINKING???? Last night, we were invited out to dinner by dear friends of our family. This family frequents the same greek restaurant that is our favorite, The Parthenon. The Parthenon is the restaurant Lou's family has frequented for some probably 40 odd years. Lou always said the food there is as close to his mom's cooking as a restaurant can be. Lou loved The Parthenon. He loved the food. He loved the ambience. He always said "everyone here is having a good time". And he was right. He would take large groups of friends, family, clients, associates there, often. He never tired of the place. It was where we had our first date (when he proposed to me). It was where we had first birthday family parties for the kids. It was where we celebrated all sorts of special and/or everyday occasions. It was where Lou collapsed from the aortic aneurism twelve years ago, as we were celebrating the Christmas season with friends. It was Lou's place, and, consequently, our place. So, what WAS I thinking, that I could have dinner there, at the Parthenon, last night? I WASN'T thinking, that's basically it. It had been a crazy day on a number of fronts. Stressful. So, we arrive at the restaurant, on time no less, which my son would say is a major miracle. So far, so good. That lasted about a nano second. My heart started pounding and I could hardly breathe. And then the tears came. Thinking I could brush it off, we sat down. It only got worse. Lou was right, everybody WAS having a good time, all around us, and that only made it worse. I felt dizzy. And so many memories rushed by. I saw the table we sat at on our first date. I saw the paramedics carrying Lou out on the stretcher. I saw birthday celebrations. I saw Lou toasting a long table full of friends. I had to leave. I DID leave. It was a bad night, followed by a morning spent hiding under the covers. And it stayed with me all day today. I thought I was doing fairly "well", whatever that means. I wonder if I'll ever be able to enjoy the Parthenon again. I wonder if I"ll even be able to think about it again without getting that pit in my stomach. Some places make me feel good, make me feel Lou's presence, in a good way. This didn't. It overwhelmed me. It hurt. It's going to take awhile, isn't it. It's going to take quite awhile I think.

Home Alone

I found myself alone in the apartment for quite a bit of time on Saturday. I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all. Funny how that works. I thought about the years I was a carefree, single career girl, loved my independence. Loved living alone. Loved doing what I wanted, when I wanted. It took someone very special to make me want to give that up. It was Lou of course. I happily gave it up. Lou allowed me to maintain my independence however. We always had our own interests, in addition to being a couple. Lou had his golf, and tennis, and occasionally, poker with the guys. I had my dancing and the church choir in those days, and of course, my girlfriends. Then the kids came. My dancing days were over. All of my time went to work and family. That was how I wanted it. Lou cut his golf back to one day out of the weekend. We spent all of our time as a family, and as a couple too. Those were good days, very good days. I loved those days, we rode bikes, we picked apples, pumpkin farms, sledding, even skiing, we did all those fun family things. And of course, the kids got into activities and we spent all our time watching soccer, flag football, baseball, piano lessons, etc etc etc. All good. All of it. But I don't think I EVER EVER had time alone, AT ALL, during all those years. I'm quite sure of it! Occasionally, I know I craved it. Just an afternoon to myself....bliss. Fast forward. Here I am. Had an afternoon to myself. Didn't like it. Didn't like it at all. Funny how that works. All those years I would have loved one afternoon to myself. Now I have it. And I don't want it. Don't want it at all. How ironic.