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.