A Surprise

The car story is getting old, isn't it. But it has sort of consumed me and impacted me in an emotional way that I had not expected. I am giving our car to a dear nephew who lives in a warmer climate. He will care for it until such time that it is too costly or we want it back. We can't park it here in Chicago. It will be loved and cared for. But it will drive away on Saturday, and the new car will take it's parking space, and I am still sad thinking about it. Even more so, now. Today I had to look in the lock box for the title to the car. I cannot find it and need it. Lou bought the car 24 years ago, I have no idea where the title might be. I can't find it anywhere here in his piles of papers. It was not in the six file boxes I have already gone through of his. It is not in the lockbox where some other important papers are. But I found something else in the lock box. Something I had not seen before. And I've been in the lock box many times. Some of those times, with Lou. You would think he might have pointed this out, but he didn't. Maybe he forgot it was there. What I found was a cassette tape, addressed "To Whom It May Concern", to be opened upon Lou's death. It was dated 1976. Several years before we met and married. I took the envelope home with me. I popped the tape in the car player as I drove to pick Damon up from school later in the day. Wow. It was Lou. It was sooooo Lou. Lou, spelling out what should be done, in the event "something should happen to him", on the eve of a trip to London. In typical Lou fashion, it was quite detailed. He went through EVERYTHING, including the contents of his drawers, closet, and I swear, kitchen cabinets. He mentions the current prices of things, such as skiis (with metal bindings mind you) and poles, $250. He talks about how he would like to be buried. Fortunately, without having heard this, and never really discussing it with Lou, we got that part right. He did want to be buried with his Dad, which is not here in Chicago. Now his mother, and sister are with them also, which Lou could not have known at the time he made the tape. He wanted a simple, metal casket. We didn't do that. Nope. Try to tell my son anything less then the best for his dad. No, he didnt' have the metal casket. He wanted a simple service. His service was simply beautiful, and elegant, and so fitting of Lou. I think he would have liked it. There are funny moments in the tape. He readily admits to being a pack rat , "I'm still hoping to clean up my papers one of these days". He chuckles over the things he has saved. And wonders who on earth would want most of it. "Just toss it all out", he says. He talks about his mom. He loved her so and wanted her to be cared for. He talks about his life. At the end of the tape he says, "whatever it is that has happened to me, you can rest assured I've had a good life". He goes on to say he has squeezed every last drop out of every moment. He didn't know, at that time, that there would be more. That there would be SO MUCH more to his life. He didn't know there would be a whirlwind courtship and marriage to a younger woman. He didn't know he would be the very proud father to two wonderful sons. He didn't know he would have his own, successful business. He didn't know we would be fortunate enough to travel the world. He didn't know his sister, and his mother, would soon pass away. He didn't know he'd get a brain tumor. But he did know he had lived a good life. Even then, he knew it. I listened to the tape through tears. His voice sounded younger. I could see the twinkle in his eyes, and the occasional wink he'd give. He might have been smoking a pipe. He cared about the details. He cared about doing the right thing. He cared about his family and friends. I wish I had known him then. I wish I had had more time with him. 25 years is a long time, but not long enough. It's never long enough. But it was good. It was more than good. If I were making a similiar tape today, I would certainly say the same thing. That I had lead a good life. And mostly, it was due to Lou. Thank you, my love.

Morning Madness

I woke up way too late today. I stayed up way too late last night (or rather, this morning). Reading. It was a bad wake up. Damon came in my room , I told him to wake me when I oversleep on the weekends. I was in a very deep sleep, having a very bad dream. So I am glad Damon woke me up to get me out of it, but it stays with me still. In my dream, Lou was dying. He was dying of pneumonia though, and I was very distraught because somehow, it was "my fault". And everyone was telling me that. And Lou was very distressed. Bad dream, bad bad dream. I was hugging Lou's pillow when I woke up. I still feel unsettled. What a way to start the day.

Cathy's Car

The car has found me. Rather, the dealer has found our car. And we are getting it, soon. 24 years with our current car. Yes, I wrote about this before (see previous post, somewhere, entitled "It's Just A Car"). 24 years is a LONG LONG time. We were married 25 years. That car IS Lou. And our life, together. Giving it up is very very hard. And I don't really like it all that much. It's way too big. But this is the first change I have made since Lou died. OK, I changed the comforter on the bed, but that hardly counts. This is HUGE. It's a noticeable change, not like changing the comforter. But, it's a necessity, nothing lasts forever. Not things, anyway. Love, now THAT lasts forever. Or should, anyway.

Slow Dancing Alone

One thing I really can't seem to address is what to do when I have the urge to slow dance. It comes over me at the strangest times. Usually, I am alone, like now. I'll be listening to music, trying to get some things done , paperwork etc. I'll have my music on. I can't always avoid listening to my romantic stuff. I can't always listen to my "up" stuff. Sometimes, you just want soft and quiet. Alot of that happens to be romantic in my collection. Slow dancing stuff. Lou was such a great dancer. The last time we slow danced was in our kitchen on new years eve, 2005. I had some great Frank Sinatra blasting away and he up and took me for a spin (well, not EXACTLY a spin, but close enough). My mom was nearby watching. She said it really made her happy to watch us. It didn't last too long, he wasn't all that strong at that point. I kind of knew in my heart that we might not slow dance again. We didn't. Now I close my eyes and try to bring that moment back. I try to feel his arms around me, and to smell his cologne. It's very hard to slow dance alone. It really doesn't work at all. The cats don't work either. Soon, I get over it. I change the tune and move on. There's always another tune to play. Not another Lou though. Never another Lou.

California Dreamin

Was away again for a few days. This time to sunny, hot, delightful California to visit friends. It was wonderful. Being away is good. It is hard to be places where Lou and I have been together, however. That part can be hard. But once through it, it is good to be away. Breakfast outside, wine under the stars, long walks, pool, golf...I wonder why we live in Chicago, why would ANYONE choose to live HERE when there is somewhere like THERE? I found myself asking that question often. I returned a bit healthier from all that walking and fresh fruit, only to now find myself bundled up with a blanket, keeping the couch warm in front of the tv. So much for starting spring with healthy habits. It's easy to be "good" when its sunny, warm and fun. It's hard when its cold, gray, and lonely. Tomorrow is the first day of spring. Only maybe 3 more months or so until we have California type days. Hope I can hold out. Back to the blanket and couch. It's still winter after all.

Musical Notes

My oldest son took me on a date on Sunday. Dates with your sons are always special,no matter what you do, but this one was especially so. He took me to see the Soweto Gospel Choir, from S. Africa. They performed at our symphony center, a venue I just love. He became familiar with them while studying in S. Africa. We were in the 5th row, can't get much better then that. They were absolutely FANTASTIC! There is no way you can possibly be sad, or in a bad mood while listening to them. They are so joyful, so full of life, so inspiring. By the end of the program, they had the audience on their feet, clapping and dancing. No one wanted it to end. Of course, I had to immediately download some of their music to keep the good feelings going. I blasted it all morning yesterday as I worked through my stacks of papers and phone calls. Then I ran some errands. As I was out and about, I noticed three guys crossing Michigan Avenue whom I was sure were in the choir. One of them is a noticeably tall man with an unbelievably LOW DEEP VOICE that was unforgettable. Since their music was still playing in my head, and I was feeling pretty darn good with the sun shining and all, I ran up to him and said something crazy like "you're the guy in the choir with the really low voice!" He was pretty surprised to be recognized in the middle of downtown Chicago by some over caffeinated lady. Nonetheless, he and his buddies enjoyed the recognition I think. I don't think it happens too often. They then grabbed me by the arm and took me over to their nearby bus where several other members of the choir were gathering. I told them how much we enjoyed their concert and their music. I told them I had been listening to it all morning (which explained my good mood). I told them how much I love their country (yes, I went to visit my son in S. Africa). It was a wonderful moment. Made my day. Probably my week. Music is an important part of my therapy. It was an important part of Lou's therapy too. It's cheap and it works. I'm still blasting their music. Maybe today will be a good day, too.

Spring Things

Suddenly, it's spring! Or so it seems. I hate to even write that for fear it will disappear. It probably will, it is Chicago after all, but it sure is nice, if even for a few days. The sun is shining! What a huge difference THAT makes. And it's in the 50's! People are coming out of the woodwork. Spring is good. New beginnings and all that. New life. Hope. Tulips. Bunnies. And baseball. Spring is usually a very short lived affair here in Chicago. You have to grab it while you can. One year, it snowed on my son's birthday, May 5, on the outdoor party we had planned. That's spring in Chicago. So yesterday, I took a long walk in honor of this surprise appearance of spring. The air smelled good. Like baseball, as my oldest son would say when he was little. When spring arrived he would declare, "it smells like baseball", and all would be well with the world. Only all is not well with the world this spring. Everwhere I walked I was confronted with memories. I can't escape them. I'm surrounded by them. We met, courted, lived, loved, worked, played, and raised our family in the same few mile (if that) radius for 25 years. As I walk, I pass the spot Lou and I bumped into each other and were both hit by lightning. This is the place we used to have lunch during work days. This is where we sat outside for coffee. These are the store windows we used to gaze at. This is the way we walked to church. This is his favorite spot on the avenue. This is where the boys were born. And, this is where we went for Lou's treatment, and tests, and appointments, and... It's all here, in walking distance. It's all here, right outside my door. Our life. I can see why people want to move and start over when they have lost their life partner. I feel that way sometimes, I do. That's running away, isn't it. Hiding. I can understand that. But, let's be realistic. Can't do that. Have to face it, and live with it, within it. A new way, somehow. That's what spring is for, isn't it? To give us a gentle push. To welcome us back to life. To help us find a new path. I hope spring sticks this year. I need it to.

Date Night

I've written about this before, how much I always used to look forward to fridays. Back in the old days, the BBT days (Before Brain Tumor). We tried NOT to go out on fridays. I always really looked forward to the end of the week, spending time with my guy. I still looked forward to fridays, even when Lou was sick and our world was so different. There's something about fridays. And, I've written about this, too, that now, fridays are hard. Now they signal the start of the weekend, long days that must be filled. Yes, I fill them, I've learned to. Tonight I saw dear friends for dinner and had a great time. I'm so glad they called! I left the restaurant feeling good, and the weather was very mild, so I decided to walk awhile. On my way home, I passed a few bars and restaurants. Inside, couples on dates, twosomes, foursomes. Date night. I wanted to stop and ask them if they knew how lucky they were. I oftentimes want to stop couples and ask them that question. Of course, I don't. What a crazy lady. I walked on. And soon returned home, to my kitties. You know what? I'm lucky too. I've had a great love. And I DO know how lucky that is. No one needs to ask ME that question. That was a big lesson I got from Lou. I hope you get it, too.

The Story Continues

There is yet another installment to the "fur story". I thought it was over, not so! If you don't know the "fur story", you might want to go back to read the post about "Brrr Furrr", and "The Rest Of The Story", then you will understand how the story continues, today's topic. You will recall there was an older greek man involved in the fur story. I have not seen this man for two years. Not since MY greek guy bought the fur from him for my Christmas gift two years ago. Rather, I bought the fur, Lou gave it to me. That's all explained in the previous posts. Anyway, last winter, I looked for the man in the store he was working in when we bought the fur the year before. He told me he comes to Chicago to work for a few months in winter, his specialty is selling furs I guess. Why he would come to CHICAGO, in WINTER, from GREECE, is beyond me, tho if you want to sell furs, I guess this would be the place. I didn't see him last winter. This year, when I went to pick up the OLD FUR, the one that had NOT been traded in as I thought, I asked about him. No one knew where he was. They thought he went to Florida or something. Today, I cut through Lord & Taylor on my way home. Lord & Taylor is closing here, and EVERYTHING is on sale, EVERYTHING MUST GO!! I thought I may as well check out what was "going" to see if anything MUST GO with ME. As I was picking through the costume jewelry, a gentleman came up to me, took my hand, and said hello. I didn't recognize him at first, but it was the older greek guy, the fur salesman. He remembered me, and Lou. He asked about Lou. Before I could tell him, he knew. He gave me a big hug. He offered to buy me lunch anytime. He's doing the fur close out at Lord & Taylor, natch. It's right next to the jewelry counter. He still lives in Greece. I told him I had my old coat redone, the one he told me to sell back. He laughed. He acted surprised. I still wonder if he did that on purpose, if he really DIDN'T resell the coat. Seeing him closed the loop on the story. Strange, isn't it? He just sort of floated into my sphere today. And back out. A message from Lou ? Aha, so THAT'S it, LOU WANTS ME TO BUY ANOTHER FUR !!! I don't think so. I don't think that's it. I don't think it's anything. It's just a random connection, but a random connection to my Lou. And yet another reminder of everything he did for me. How sick he was, and how he still was Lou. I really miss him.

6 Months

It's been six months now. February is a short month, it would have been six months on the 31st. Seems so long ago. It was summer then. A different world, a different life. As awful as it was, I wish I were back in that world, that life. I would do it all again. All of it. The treks to the hospital and back. The weekly blood tests, holding his hand during all the MRIs, the physical therapy, the endless research and questionning, the constant running to the pharmacy, the medication schedules, the stumbles, the falls, answering the same questions over and over and over, walkers and wheelchairs, helping him do everyday things you never thought you'd ever have to do, creating the alter world we lived in. The tears, the rivers of tears. Whispering prayers. The hugs. The mornings, hiding, together, from the day. Watching tv. Listening to music. His favorite ice cream. The sun setting on the skyline. The dusk drifting over the lake. The fleeting moments of complete lucidness and the expansive discussions that could go nowhere,ultimately disappearing,never to return. I'd do it again in an instant. To have him here, yes, I'd do it all again.

Naptime

As I was saying, time for a new car. I went car shopping today. Not my idea of a good time. In the middle of car shopping, I got a $120 ticket for an expired city sticker. It expired LAST JUNE. How did I miss that? Why didn't I catch it? Why didn't some other cop give me a ticket sooner, instead of today, a gloomy, gray day, in the middle of car shopping? OK, maybe, just maybe, I had something fairly MAJOR going on back then, true. But I should have noticed it by NOW for gosh sakes. It costs $75 for a new one, plus a late fee of $40. I'd have the $75 expense either way, but now I'm down $160 for this little outing. And, it will be time for a new one in June again. I had to take a nap when I got home. It's the only way to deal with such things. I just absolutely HATE not having someone to share days like this with. Of course, if Lou were here, this would not have happened. The car was his responsibility, and he was always on top of things. But so was I, for the most part. I functioned better with Lou, even when he was sick. Now, I drift. And flounder. And miss things. Like city stickers. And, Lou. Most of all, of course, Lou.