Lessons from Lou

This blog is about my journey through the brain tumor world with my dear husband, Lou. While not a journey I would wish on even my worst enemy, it is a journey that has enlightened and awakened me to what lies within us, and around us, each and every moment of each and every day. There are lessons here....lessons in this journey.....lessons from Lou....that I would like to share with you.

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Location: Chicago, Illinois

Picture of Lou (sick) and I at a party, circa 2005, long ago and faraway. I'm now a middle aged widow, trying to get my life back together. Mother of two young adult sons, living with two adult cats.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

We can dream, can't we? Last home game today. They clinched yesterday, but that's ok, it was still great to be there today. Magical, really. Nothin really like Cubs fans, I mean, it's only been 100 years since the last world series win. I can't bring myself to really imagine what that would be like. It was good enough to sing Go Cubs Go with the sea of 40,000 Cubs fans today, wishing we didn't have to leave. Gorgeous sunny start of fall day. Slight chill in the air. Which brings me to the story. My friend reminded me of the game, many years ago now, that she took my oldest son and her son to. It was 99 degrees in the shade, and a night game. You'd have to know Lou, but he never let us go anywhere without a jacket or sweater. "You just never know in Chicago", he'd say, and he was always very well prepared for whatever came his way. He wanted us to be the same. So that night, he made Drew take a light windbreaker to the game, with much protest. He was probably 10 years old at the time. When he came home he said "I was the only person in the whole stadium with a jacket". Sigh. But, we can all remember so many times dear Lou was right about the sweaters and jackets. Many times. Usually. So, today as we chuckled about that story, tears came to my eyes as I remembered another Lou story on the same topic. I remember gray cold October mornings after his diagnosis, when he would look out the window in his state of constant confusion and depression and say, "it looks so cold. Did Damon take a jacket today?". Old habits die hard. To the end, he cared so very much for us. He couldn't remember the day, the date, or what had happened to him, but he could remember to think of his sons. He was a good man. He didn't share my enthusiasm for the Cubs but that's ok, he went along with it. He was a good man. Very.

3 Comments:

Blogger Shelley said...

Very.

2:51 AM  
Anonymous Lisa Kidd said...

Tears again here in Bowling Green.
The words you write touch my heart.
You have a way of showing us how wonderful Lou was. How deeply he felt for his family. How much he loved all of you.
I guess why it brings tears to my eyes and makes me get a lump in my throat is because Lou sounds so much like Dan. Always, always thinking of others before himself. I have been in awe of it for the 18 years that he and I have been together. Just as you are still in awe of Lou. True love never, ever dies.

8:36 AM  
Blogger Sue said...

Very good man indeed. He taught all of us out here in cyber land new lessons, new ways to live and new ways to love.

4:41 PM  

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