Lessons from Lou

Time For A Change

2011-05-02T07:50:00.002-05:00

Greetings, dear friends. If you've found your way to this blog, you'll see it has not been updated in quite some time. I've continued the journey at : http://cie-change.com/ Come visit for writing on life, yoga and etc. And hope, yes, it's about hope. Cathy

Sail On

2010-06-18T20:12:00.003-05:00

Another Father's Day is almost here, another birthday. It has been almost four years now since Lou died, six really, he never was the same after that diagnosis. So much has happened in these years and so little, too. Two steps forward, one step back, trial and error. Every day. To find your place again, after something like this, is so very hard. I'm often disheartened by my lack of progress. And I still don't know how to program this blog so I can indent or even have spaces between the lines! OK OK, enough with the self pity you say. Yes, I agree. Here goes then, a final list of lessons. What I know for sure after four years: l. Starting over is very hard to do. Especially if you liked the life you had and wish you had it back. 2. You may not get over it but you can eventually accept it. 3. Learn to be alone. To like yourself. You're stuck with you. There's always self improvement. 4. Try something new. Just don't bite off more than you can chew. A year's worth of Bikram yoga might not be such a hot idea. Actually, that would be too hot. 5. Move forward. Or just move. 6. Get a pet, preferably one that cuddles. 7. Clean the closets. And under the sink. And your make up bag. 8. Drink lots of coffee. every. single. morning. 9. Drink lots of champagne. Whenever you can. 10. You will make it, you will. I'm sailing on from this blog. Thanks for stopping by!

Already, the days get shorter

2009-08-19T21:38:00.003-05:00

While it is still summer, hot, sticky, and all that it should be, moments of the change to come are present. Like today, as I approached our building in the late afternoon. And yes, the days are already getting shorter. A breeze swept by that carried a few swirling leaves of some sort, depositing them at my feet. And with them, that familiar feeling of deja vu and endings. Yes, that time of the year is approaching, again. I notice it doesn't seem to change, does it? Summer always ends, autumn looms and winter is not far behind. But I get ahead of myself. That feeling that creeps over me, familiar yet unsettling, causing my stomach to churn. Like I've seen a ghost. What is it? A sadness, yes. The reminder that time marches on. Suitcases get packed, sons go away to explore the world. As they should. An anniversary approaches, again. Ah, yes. That explains it.

Our Fathers

2009-06-20T20:21:00.003-05:00

Our fathers Who are, Or aren't, In heaven. Who are, Or aren’t, Here with us Today. We remember you, And love you. For all that you are, And all that you were. For lifting us up on your shoulders and carrying us high. For teaching us to dance with our feet on yours. For the smell of your aftershave lingering behind you. For your voice on the phone, no matter where you were. For playing catch, chess, cards and cigars. For holding us tight, For letting us go. Our fathers....... We thank you. We miss you, We love you. Sigh. He was a wonderful father.

Welome, Spring!

2009-05-08T21:39:00.005-05:00

Greetings, my friends! It has been such a long time since I've posted. Life has a way of getting in the way. It was a very long winter here in Chicago. But I think we can officially say that spring is finally here, as witnessed by these glorious tulips nodding hello all over town. It is a very welcome sight. Hope springs eternal. I am hopeful. And it is spring, again. With each spring I see that I am able to enjoy life a bit more. Life is for the living, after all. Enjoy.

Valentine's Day

2009-02-08T19:02:00.001-06:00

Here's to Love, for there is no greater gift, than to love, and be loved.

It's The Little Things

2008-12-21T20:09:00.002-06:00

We are not allowed to have real Christmas trees in the tall building we live in. It's a fire hazard. I grew up in Michigan, we always had a live tree. Sometimes they were crooked and my dad tied a string from the top to a wall to keep them standing straight. I adore the smell of a live tree. And all that it conjures inside of me. Fresh snow. Silent, starlit Christmas Eves. Shining packages on Christmas morning. I love Christmas. My memories run so deep from childhood. My parents made is so very special. And then, as luck would have it, I met a kindred spirit in Lou. No, he surpassed me in his love of Christmas. He WAS Santa Claus, even in July as I've written about before. So. Not having a live tree was a small problem for me. When we married, we lived in his apartment, now our apartment, and live trees were, and still are, verboten. Bah humbug. Our first few years of marriage, we decorated a forlorn norfolk pine, Not quite the same. Then we finally broke down and got the artificial tree. Sigh. I spent quite a bit of time experimenting with "Christmas scents", to find just the concoction that smelled like a real tree. Might I say, none of them really do. Some of them smell like Pine Sol. That said, little by little, our artificial tree became "ours". It became ours with decorations the kids made, and a tradition my folks started, of sending each boy an ornament each year, following the same theme through the years, a bear for Drew and a Santa for Damon. With just the right amount of lights and lots of ornaments, and real pine cones buried in the branches, it passes. Actually, it does quite well. There is only one problem with the artificial tree, and that is the assembling of it. It comes in probably fifty or more pieces. Not my job. It was always LOU'S job to put the tree together, and the lights on. I liked to swoop in for the fun stuff, that being the ornaments. I hate assembling this tree. It's been five years now since Lou did it, I realized that this year. Four years since he got sick. So, the last time he put this darn thing together was five years ago. You'd think by now I'd be better at it, but I am not. Each year, we haul the box out of storage, and it sits there for a bit before I get the energy to attack it. All those branches to put in order! Ah, but there is a trick to it. And Lou saw to it that we would always put the tree together just right. Because, you see, he COLOR CODED the branches, as you can see from this pic! I laugh each year as I lay them out. I curse the darn thing, and then I laugh. That was Lou. I complain about this tree, and this year, I actually thought twice about the Martha Stewart pre lit tree on sale ( don't get me going on the lights, that, too, was Lou's job, of course!). No, I"ll stick with this one. It's now 23 years old. You wouldn't know it. Once it's covered in lights, bears and santas, you wouldn't know it. Thank you, Lou, for helping us put the tree together.

Closet Cleaning

2008-11-30T18:46:00.002-06:00

Good day for it; gray, cold, sleeting. Trying to get ready for the holidays. Tears when I stumble upon certain somethings. Anger that this horrible thing happened. Wanting to throw it all out, without looking. Wanting to keep it all. Hating the holidays. Wishing we could just fast forward. Knowing that we can't. Trying to make it better. Wondering how. Keeping his golf shoes, again.

The Empty Nest

2008-11-11T21:43:00.003-06:00

It's more than missing Lou. On a dreary, rainy November night like this, it's missing all that went before. It's missing hearing the kids when you put the key in the door. The running down the hall to give you a hug. The swoosh of activity at the end of the day. The rush to get dinner on the table. The clamboring for attention. The chatter at the dinner table. The mess after dinner. The homework/brushteeth/storytime routine. The plopping on the couch, together. Another day done. I miss all that. I miss all that when I put my key in the door to be greeted by darkness and silence, save for the kitties. I hear the echoes of the kids and wish I could hear it again, wish I could have that life one more time, again, even if only for one day, even if only for one key turn in the door after work. If you have it, yourself, grab hold and hang on to it, tight. It slips through your fingers oh so quickly. The empty nest is not all it's cracked up to be.

Closing A Door

2008-10-25T01:32:00.003-05:00

This week has been spent packing up the office. We will be moving to new space tomorrow. It's been an emotional time for me. Lou's office was in this space for seven years. For Lou, it was really only three before he got sick for the next two years, and then, not with us for the last two. This was never really Lou's office. His place was in the landmark Wrigley building, just a few doors from this office. He was there for 18 years and then they wouldn't renew his lease and he had to move. THAT was difficult. Lou never liked change, and he loved that building. That building was Lou. This building was not. Nonetheless, the office space itself had the feeling of Lou, and of course, we tried to maintain much of the feel of his original office space in the Wrigley. This office has the memory of when Lou got sick. Of the times I brought him in, and we pretended all was well. When we arranged to have certain clients call to talk to him on the phone so he thought he was back in action. From that standpoint, it is good to leave. I hate thinking about those times, about him, like that. Nonetheless, it is hard to leave. It is hard to close the door. Another part of Lou is disappearing. That is the problem. I hate that. I hate it so much. I've cried so much this week and I can't quite figure it out. I was not prepared for this response. I don't really like that office all that much, the space was never quite right for our group. But it's still hard to leave. I had to go through some of his things. They were put away long ago when it became obvious he would not be back. The notes that were on his desk. His pens and old pipes, artifacts. Pictures. Golf trophies. Notes and more notes. Lou was his own blackberry I always like to say. That tiny writing of his. His and my mom's phone numbers, both on a tiny piece of paper, in his blotter. A very old picture of me looking very very young. So many pictures. Good times. Love. Family. Lou. It seems, at times, it really does get harder as time goes on. The finality of it doesn't really settle in until time has past. When you begin to close doors, you realize that part of your life really is over. Closing a door is a hard thing to do.

Who let the cows out?

2008-10-08T01:52:00.003-05:00

Just a pic from my recent trip to Montana. I have many more of the gorgeous scenery, I'll try to post a few later. In the meantime, for those of you who did not get my previous post, "Actually, no, it didn't"......refers to the Cubs and the fact that we were swept in the first round of the playoffs. And Shelley, yes, you knew this, I know you knew, you are just crazy busy with football, homecoming and all that other wonderful good stuff that goes on in Walla Walla! Anyway, how does a team with the best record, great players, great manager get swept like that? Only the Cubs my friends, only the Cubs. Lou was sooooo right about them. He always said not to get invested in the Cubs, he'd seen it all for years. He was right. Per usual.

Actually, no, it didn't.

2008-10-06T08:20:00.001-05:00

2008-09-21T18:43:00.003-05:00

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.

Summer Ends

2008-08-26T19:26:00.003-05:00

As it does every year. There's a slight chill in the air, even during the day. And it smells different, a bit fresher, crisper. The sun is not as warm. It is getting darker, earlier, already. All of a sudden, summer seems over. And it is not yet Labor Day. I used to absolutely adore the beginning of fall, and all that would portend....... new school clothes, supplies, class schedules, activities. Football. All that. Now, the end of summer brings with it a tinge of sadness. The shorter days that eventually arrive. An empty house. The gray dampness that becomes winter. And stays winter for oh so long. Summer goes out quietly, ever so softly, but quickly, it seems. One day, you are on the beach in a towel, the next, walking briskly wrapped in a sweater. It's a difficult time, this last week of summer. I suspect it always will be. Remembering......wanting to leave that time behind, yet wanting to keep it, safe. Wanting it to be over, this limbo end of summer time, but wanting to hang on. Bittersweet, when summer ends.

Kooza!

2008-08-14T23:42:00.003-05:00

Had the pleasure of seeing Cirque De Soleil, Kooza tonight. It is magical and wonderful and awesome and and why was I the only one in tears at the end? I think it has to do with being left, alone, in the dark...one lone clown character, wistfully letting his kite go... up, into the darkness...one shining light.....gone. And I cried. Lou would have loved this show, he would have. And, I think he would have cried, too.

Scenes of Summer

2008-07-13T22:16:00.005-05:00

Summer in Chicago is the best. Millions of people sit together in the park to watch awesome fireworks while listening to the symphony perform all the traditional favorites. The beaches are filled with sunbathers, volleyball players, toddlers with sand toys and big boys and girls too. This year, they've planted palm trees on "my" beach. A bit strange against the skyscraper backdrop but hey, why not. Then of course, there's the Cubs. 'Nuff said, I don't want to jinx it. And we have gorgeous farmers markets all over the city, but THIS year, I am growing my own tomatoes right up here on the 58th floor, see?? Who knew? Summer is good. This summer is good. There's only one problem with summer. Lou died at the end of it. And so, every now and then, I catch myself as I'm enjoying summer. It happens at dusk, at the end of a lovely summer day. When the sky turns from clear blue to violet to misty gray, and the day melts into the lake. It catches me then. That feeling of time slipping away. Of life slipping away, as it did, that summer day. We always want summer days to last forever, don't we?

Happy Birthday, Dear Lou!

2008-06-25T09:11:00.002-05:00

June is a bit difficult, there's Father's Day, and then there is Lou's birthday. Today. Last year, we had our first "Founder's Day" at the office. It was to be a tradition, to celebrate Lou's birthday. We went to lunch at his beloved Parthenon restaurant. This year, we have to postpone the outing, we are knee deep in preparation for an important meeting tomorrow. I'm unhappy we have to postpone, but I know Lou would want us preparing, of course! So, we are having a birthday cake, at least. Lou loved birthdays. He always made a big deal of them. I can remember one year he was unhappy with me because I didn't have a cake at home for one of the boys after we had already had a cake at a restaurant. No one in our house really even LIKES cake so I figured it was ok, but not to Lou. No, not to Lou. I had to run out and get some dumb frozen cake just to have it there. Happy Birthday, dear Lou. We miss you.

Father's Day

2008-06-15T10:38:00.002-05:00

Of all his many, many accomplishments, nothing compared to being a father, for him. He came to it at a relatively late age, perhaps he savored it all the more because of that. He loved "his guys", "his buddies", so very much. A fierce protector, giant hero, inspiration, mentor, teacher, sounding board, playmate, practical joker, moral compass and so much more. He still is. Thank you, Lou. For being the father you were. How lucky we were, and are. Happy Father's Day.

Slow down

2008-06-14T19:21:00.002-05:00

Slow day on the golf course today. Very, VERY, slow. My buddy got annoyed, REALLY annoyed. OK, it WAS annoying. But you know what? The sky was really blue, the sun was shining, there was a breeze, the grass was green. Life could be worse. Life could be alot worse than sitting around waiting for slowpokes to golf. We could be Tim Russert's family for instance. Your perspective sure changes when you've lived through a brain tumor journey. Yep. I'll take waiting for the slowpokes on the golf course any day. Life could be alot worse.

Party Talk

2008-06-09T01:19:00.002-05:00

Was at a graduation party for a friend's son last night. Great party. Lots of people. Lots of food. Lots of laughter. Got to talking to someone I worked with long ago, who I was reconnected with over the past few years through our mutual friend who threw last night's party. Did you follow that? Anyway, she commented on my blog. She happens to be a writer, for real, as in, she gets paid for writing, so I find it interesting that she would even be aware of this blog. She had found my blog some time ago I think. She thought I had ended it. She mentioned the red dress entry, the one that was supposed to be the last post. I told her I have come back to it, a bit. But I realized, in talking to her, that my "need" for the blog is not really there anymore. That maybe it had suited it's purpose, run it's course. I felt most compelled to write when I was going through the brain tumor journey, with Lou, and the aftermath. Now I am not so sure what to actually blog about. I certainly still have many thoughts and feelings about that time to share. They never go away. The times I really can't believe it all happened. The times I really really miss Lou and wish he was here. But that is all just a part of me now, of who I am, and it doesn't seem to require quite so much examination. I think it means I have accepted it.

Senator Kennedy

2008-05-22T11:28:00.003-05:00

Ted Kennedy. Brain cancer. I'm sorry for him. For his family. Very sorry. One of the articles I read just sickened me. They are still talking about the drug Lou took as if it were manna from heaven. It is still called the latest and greatest, and it wasn't the latest and greatest, THEN, now 3 years ago, how can it be NOW? It is NOT. It extends life 2 months on average, from 12 months to 14 months. Oh wow everyone. If there is any good at all that can come from Mr. Kennedy being struck by this insidious disease, it will be to raise awareness of it, and hopefully, funding for better treatments. Speaking of funding, TEAM BERES raised $8,000 for the American Brain Tumor Walk a few weeks ago. I'm really proud of that. Out of over 100 teams registered, we ranked 15th in funds raised. Not bad. Next year, even better. Please pray for Mr. Kennedy and all brain tumor patients. They really do need it. On another note, perhaps one day soon, it really will be spring in Chicago.......brrrrr!

Greys

2008-05-15T21:04:00.002-05:00

Wow. I'm blown away from watching the last two weeks of Grey's Anatomy. It has to do with brain tumors. They're doing brain tumors. McDreamy is doing brain tumors, to be specific. So, I would watch McDreamy take care of a splinter, but brain tumors...gotta watch that. Powerful stuff going on there. Too much. It brings alot back. Too much. So, I watch it anyway, right. Well, it's more than the brain tumor stuff. It's about love, too. Love that others couldn't see, didn't believe in. McDreamy did though. He saw it. He let his patient believe , in love. He let her wait, and wait, and wait, for her lover that seemed imaginary to everyone else, because she had a brain tumor that could cause imaginary things like Cinderella stories. Seemed implausible to everyone else around her. Seemed like a story created by a brain tumor gone awry. After waiting for a few hours, they give up, and do the procedure, without her seeing him. She doesn't wake up after the surgery. And the lover showed up, too late. He was real. And she was Cinderella. Only she didn't get the fairy tale ending. Love is all there is you know. That much, I do know. Love is all there is. I can't believe a tv show has turned me into a puddle of tears, but there it is.

Mommy Moments

2008-05-13T00:52:00.004-05:00

I love this picture. To me, it is such a great snapshot of motherhood. My dear niece and her sweet daughter. A day we went out for a walk, while Lou was sick. I remember the day. It was the beginning of summer. That summer, they came to keep me company often. Anna brought such joy to our household while life was draining out of it. I remember this mommy moment. Both wearing blueberry blue. Both wearing their hair in ponytails. The mother leaning into the child...letting her be on her own, but right there should she fall. So sweet. A perfect mommy moment, in an otherwise very imperfect time. How quickly those mommy moments disappear. It was a strange Mother's Day. Maybe not "strange", but different. It was the first Mother's Day spent without the reasons I am a mother with me! One son off on a trip, the other in school in New York. My first Mother's Day, sans sons. I was not alone, however. I had three wonderful friends visiting (a long time, dear friend and her two sisters, now new dear friends of mine), all mother's as well. One visiting her son who attends college here. We made ourselves a great Mother's Day brunch, then it was on to our own activities, I to the Cubs game (in the rain and cold of course), they to visit the son in college. I realized that it was as it should be I suppose. My sons are off doing what they should be doing, what we want our children to do - to be independent! I guess that's a mommy moment of some sort, if you can look at it that way. I guess you have to look at it that way. Otherwise, you'd be miserable. Happy Mother's Day, all. May you have many, many mommy moments.

Spring Cleaning

2008-04-27T17:22:00.002-05:00

I still can't do it. 20 months after the fact, and I still cannot get rid of Lou's things. I have to. I have to empty these closets. I have no problem parting with most of my outdated clothing, but HIS things.....why is it so hard? The coat we bundled him in to sludge off to chemo, MRIs and doctor appointments that long, gray winter...why can't I part with THAT for heaven's sakes? It doesn't exactly hold good memories, for the most part. But, it was the last coat he wore, and I liked him in it. Neither of the boys are his size, so that idea is pretty much out, except for maybe golf hats, ties, and the like. I've given a few things to good friends and family, but I still have so much. I can see why some people do this very early on. I've tried a few times along the way. Figured by now I'd be able to. Yet here we are, the coat is still left hanging in the closet. Maybe next time. I'm quitting for today. Maybe next time.

A Rose Is A Rose

2008-04-19T22:44:00.003-05:00

" Life is thickly sown with thorns, and I know no other remedy than to pass quickly through them. The longer we dwell on our misfortunes, the greater is their power to harm us." --Voltaire Last weekend was an emotional one for me. What would have been my 27th wedding anniversary was Friday, April 11. My niece was married on April 12, and I attended the wedding. She carried gorgeous red roses. I carried one red rose when I was married. Lou send me one red rose every Tuesday from the beginning of our courtship until I had to stop it when he was sick, because it just made me too sad. I think he either bought a rose farm or purchased a lifetime supply. I love roses. Who doesn't? But the quote, above, pictures of these special roses, the would be anniversary, and my niece's wedding have all converged on me at the same time . My anniversary made me sad. Yet, I remind myself how lucky I am that I had twenty five years with Lou. How many others are not so lucky. How many others are deep in the thorns, right now. Unable to pass through them. You have to get through the thorns to smell the rose. I've been through the thorns. It wasn't necessarily "quick", however, but I think I am somewhat through them. And I am enjoying roses, again. Aren't they the most beautiful flower ever?

Busy Living

2008-04-19T00:59:00.003-05:00

Been busy living lately. Very busy. All of a sudden, I find myself pretty busy. I'm doing things I didn't have time to do much of while working and raising a family. Those days were busy, too, in a different way. Work, the boys activities, etc. Then came the brain tumor and life stopped pretty much. Busy, yes; the doctors, treatments, research, caring for Lou. Very busy. But very focused. Then came the great sleep, and the sleep walking, when I couldn't do anything at all.....for so long after Lou died. And now. Little by little, I've become very busy. I'm not used to it I think. It's good. It's good to be busy. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just trying to fill the empty spaces. I know I can be alone quite well, so I don't think that is it. What I think it is, is that I've learned that life is too short. Better to get busy living NOW. And so it goes. Happy Spring!

Hope Springs Eternal

2008-04-05T17:12:00.003-05:00

I know more than a few people who are in real need of HOPE right now. If ever there were a season for hope, spring is it, isn't it? How can we not have hope, when there is beauty such as this, all around us? We must have hope. We have to have hope. I really hope, that my dear friends who are in such dire need of hope, find it. Soon. Maybe this lovely rose will help. I hope so.

Opening Day

2008-04-01T02:34:00.003-05:00

No, they did not win. But it did go 10 innings, and our new guy from Japan made a game tying home run in the bottom of the 9th, oregato buddy! No, they didn't win, but it is baseball season again, another winter is over (maybe), and we are all still here. Life is good. It is. Anytime you can watch baseball in Wrigley Field, it's good. No matter what else may be going on, if you're at Wrigley Field, it can't be all bad. Hence the hat.

Join Us!

2008-03-18T12:07:00.003-05:00

Saturday, April 26, is the third annual "Path To Progress" Walk/Run for the American Brain Tumor Association. It is Team Beres' second annual appearance. We can do better this year. Join us, and make this picture bigger. Walk with us, we'd love to have you! Of course, donations are greatly appreciated as well. The ABTA exists to raise funds for research to find treatments and someday, a cure, for this awful disease. And, they provide much needed support for brain tumor patients and families. They are funding some amazing research. I am now a board member, I can vouch for what the organization does. It isn't a "popular" disease. It doesnt' get much attention. It needs all the support we can muster. I don't need to tell you how devastating the disease is. You can look back on my entries here to witness that. I can direct you to other stories like TeamMeyer, Fred Schappert, Robin Sierra, Kirby Bates, and many many more, whom are no longer with us. Who were taken so quickly, and so cruelly by this disease. But, there are four year + survivors out there, Pam Cameron is coming up on that, Dan Kidd is there, there is hope. We need more hope. We need more treatments, we need a cure. Help us. Go to abta.org, find the link for the Path to Progress, on the left side of the homepage. You can join our team, TEAM BERES, or support our team with a donation. Thank you, for all my brain tumor buddies, thank you.

Pretty Good

2008-03-16T01:41:00.005-05:00

Sometimes, I actually feel pretty good about myself. About where I am, now, almost nineteen months later. That we made it through that awful journey, somewhat reasonably intact. OK, not entirely intact, but reasonably. That I learned all about that nasty thing, and marshalled every weapon we could to fight it, as fruitless as it ultimately was. That we made it as good as we could for Lou, as bad as it was for us. Sometimes, I do feel pretty good about myself. That I finally did get out of bed months later, put one foot in front of the other, and went back into the world. That I found my way, with lots and lots of help, but found it nonetheless. That I've traveled, sent a second son off to college, got back to work. That I've learned to enjoy my own company, most of the time. That I can make it through that darn "core fusion" class where I am, without a doubt, at least 25 years older than most everybody else in there. It's not a bad thing to feel good about oneself. When you do, you tend to be happier, in general. You can be better, for others. It is still novel to me, this "feeling pretty good" thing. I still marvel at it, when I catch myself, every now and then saying "wow, I'm kind of doing ok". It can happen. It's pretty good to feel pretty good.

Digging

2008-03-09T21:56:00.003-05:00

Today I had to do some digging. Not digging in the garden, because, well, you know, I don't have one, or even a lawn for that matter. No, digging to find something in the piles of cards, letters and notes I still have from when Lou died, now 18 months ago. I found what I was looking for, but I also found so much more. I realized it is impossible to fully read and absorb the notes of sympathy that are sent after the death of a loved one. It is too hard to. And, it was too hard for quite some time, for me, anyway. The words are meant to comfort, but they are oh so hard to read, at the time. So painful. Today, I went through every card and note in that basket. Many, I did not remember having read before. Such beautiful, touching words. Such an amazing man he was, who touched so many, just by being Lou. So many cards and letters. It was comforting to read the words, now. It was sad, yes, but it was good to know so many people had said so much. It is still painful, so painful. I still have so much to get rid of, so much to go through. It's hard. It's painful. It's better not to. It's better to try to leave it behind. To look forward. Digging out. Digging through. And reaching for the sun. That's the good part of digging.

A Sense of Spring

2008-03-04T21:08:00.000-06:00

It could be coming. It will be coming. Afterall, daylight savings time is coming, so spring has to be coming...at some point. I could smell it today. The air was just ever so slightly fuller, warmer smelling in some way. When he was little, Drew used to say "it smells like baseball" when spring arrived. It doesn't quite smell like baseball yet, but it's coming. I could see it, in the sun that set later than usual, such a welcoming sight, walking home from yoga in the twilight, not darkness. I could feel it, the air was not as frigid as it has been. It was almost balmy, somewhere near the 40s probably. We hardly have spring here in Chicago, we tend to go from winter to summer, with a few days inbetween. Spring to us is melting snow, gloveless hands, open coats and smiles. Brief, but so appreciated. It's on it's way. It could be a month, or longer, but it's out there. With all it's hope and goodness, waiting. This spring, I am so much stronger than last. And the one before that. And the one before that. Through all the gray, damp, and cold winter days, I've grown. Changed. Bent by the winds. But not broken. No. Blossomed. Not broken. Hurry, spring.

In The Moment

2008-02-22T20:20:00.002-06:00

I didn't like yoga when I first started it, about six months ago. It was boring, repetitive, and too slow. I didn't see the point. But for some reason, I stuck with it. Little by little, I started to like it. After a couple of months, I could get half way through a class before I got bored. Now, I am not ready to stop when the class ends. I've learned alot from it. It's purposefully slow, that's the point. To be mindful. To be focused. To be in the moment. And to be flexible, and open. A by product is the fact that it is a form of exercise. That's not the real reason for yoga. I get that, now. I thought it was for exercise. It's for alot more than that. It was just what I needed, when I started, but I didn't know it, then. Now I do. The other day, in class, the instructor said something about sticking with a particular pose that seemed to be giving everyone problems. His point was to stick with it because soon enough, it will change. Much like everything else around us. He said to focus on that very moment and nothing further. I focused on what was outside the window. A streetlight shines into our class, and snowflakes were floating very gently through it's beam. It was beautiful. It was mesmerizing. I wanted to stay in that moment, but soon we had to move on to a different pose, and a different vantage point. When I left class, the snowflakes were still falling ever so gently. The walk home was peaceful. All felt pretty right with the world. It was the night of the lunar eclipse. A perfect way to end the evening. Half the moon was visible above the skyscrapers. I think I missed these things, before. Before yoga. Back then, in my "other" life. THAT life, the one that seemed to have gone on so long ago now. Is it the yoga that has made me more aware, or something else, or the combination? Who knows. I'm just glad I am.

On The Occasion Of A C-Scan

2008-02-20T09:32:00.002-06:00

I recently had the occasion to have a C scan. Not to worry, really nothing important at all, thankfully. I waited in the same waiting room Lou and I waited in so many,many times for his MRIs. Was taken into the scan room, laid on the table. The feelings it brought back were visceral. All the times we walked into those rooms. All the times Lou went into the machine, all the times I held onto his feet while the machine did it's duty. All the times I helped him get through the maze of the dressing room. All the times he did not know why he was there, what he was doing. All the times he was such a good egg about it all. My stomach hurt thinking about it. I wonder if those thoughts ever stop. I wonder if I'll ever be able to walk into that hospital without feeling anxious. When I walked out, the sun was shining. I remembered all the times we walked home, hand in hand, until such time that wasn't possible. As if it were a date we were on. It was a date,then. Those were our dates, those times. The very last time we went for a scan, Lou wanted to stop off at the restaurant across the street afterwards. It was our last date. I passed the restaurant on my way home and smiled. We did the best we could. It was good. As good as it could be. I have to remember that, when the pit comes back to my stomach. And it will. It does. I have to remember, it was good. As good as it could be.

Extra Ordinary

2008-01-23T13:05:00.000-06:00

Things are not always as they seem. This morning, I awoke to what appeared to be a "flat" sky at dawn. By "flat", I mean the color was diffused, soft, misty looking, with no real focal point. Beautiful, yes, most definitely. But the first word that came to me was "flat". Maybe because that is how I was feeling. Flat. For a whole host of reasons. I reached for my glasses (blind as a bat), just to take another look at the flat dawn. It was not flat at all. It was utterly amazing. A very distinct, wide, ray was shooting upwards from the horizon, from the sun that was still sleeping, somewhere below the water. I could hardly believe my eyes, it was THAT beautiful. What I thought was a pretty, but somewhat non distinct sky, was so much more when I made the effort to look more closely. When I made the effort to get up, put on my glasses, and see. Really see. This is the pic. I wanted to share it. It can be so easy to dismiss the ordinary. To MISS, in the ordinary, the extra. To miss what is really there. I know, I ended the blog. I wanted to end on a high note, and the red dress WAS a high note. But I'm still learning. Maybe I'll be back, every now and then. Please check. Until next time.....

A Red Dress, Redux and a Fond Farewell

2007-11-01T15:02:00.000-05:00

Yes, it's true. This will be my last post. Saturday night, I wore a red dress. This is a pic of me, the red dress, and the gorgeous flowers I was given for the event. If you do not know about me and red dresses, take a few minutes to read this post: Tuesday, January 16, 2007 , and you will then understand. You will understand what it means to me to have worn a red dress this weekend. You will know that wearing a red dress again means it's time to end the blog. You will know that wearing a red dress means I'm happy, again. That it is possible to be happy, again. It's possible to dance, sing, laugh, play and wear red dresses again. It's possible to look forward. It's possible to get through a day without thinking of what we went through. It will never leave me. The journey, it will always be a part of me. Lou, our love, our life together...wrapped in my heart, forever. But I know there are new journeys to take. And I know the heart can hold more. I know that moving forward is a way to use what the lessons taught me. To move forward is to share the goodness God has given us, because there is goodness in this life, there is. There has been, and still is. Thank you for sharing the journey. Thank you for your support and encouragement. May you find goodness in your life, it is there, even in our darkest times. It comes on the wing of a monarch butterfly perched on a blade of grass in the sun. It comes on a gentle wave lapping the sand. It comes in a phone call from a friend, a hug, a wink, a shared laugh. It comes as the sun rises and sets, each and every day. It comes in holding the hands of tiny children, in dancing til dawn, in the snap of fresh apples. I know this, now. Lessons learned.

Lessons From Cancer

2007-10-03T22:00:00.000-05:00

As I sat in traffic on my way up to my niece's house the other day , I thought alot about what the whole thing taught me. The journey we were on. The last four years. The cancer thing. I look back at pics of me from 4-5 years ago and realize I was a baby. I knew nothing. I thought I knew alot. Thought I had it all. How wrong I was. Because all that, is gone. And now, I wonder, what does that mean, "to have it all?". And, did I really lose it all? And, if I lost it all, what did I gain, in it's place? I know I gained alot. As difficult as it is to say it, I gained alot from losing Lou. From the process of losing Lou. Now, I find myself drawing upon these lessons each and every day, as we find ourselves on another cancer journey. A different one for sure, but a cancer journey, again. I hate cancer. I don't think I hate anything as much as I hate cancer. And it's everywhere. There must be a reason, but heck if I know what it is. Is God trying to tell us something? What is it? I know what God told me. I know the lessons I learned from this disease. And I'm not going to forget them. I won't let myself. Maybe that's why I find myself thrown into another cancer journey, to make sure I don't forget the lessons??? Hey, I promise, I won't forget them. I'll leave them here, so I won't forget them. Again, I wish I could make this type appear like a list. So sorry. l. Cancer teaches you to be strong. Stronger than you ever thought possible. Comes in handy now and then. 2. Cancer showed me the good in people. All sorts of people. Where you least expect it. Strangers. There are still alot of good people in the world. Why does it take cancer to bring it out? 3. Cancer teaches you to let go. So many things we cling to thinking we have to. We don't. It's good to let go. It opens you to deal with what is before you. It opens you to deal with what comes next. It opens you to new possibilities. 4. We are all in this together. The human condition. I have met so many incredible people through cancer that I never would have met. People from all walks of life. They have each enriched my life in countless ways. 4. I've said this so many times before, and it sounds so cliche, but honestly, somebody really DOES have it worse. I was dumbfounded by the burdens so many people were carrying while dealing with the same brain tumor Lou had. SO many people have it worse. It's not a cliche. It's true. 5. Cancer teaches you to play the hand you are dealt. There is no other choice of course. HOW you play it is the choice. 6. When you've walked through the valley of death, you can face anything. Anything. Nothing scares me now. If you've dealt with cancer, you can pretty much deal with anything. 7. Cancer brought us all closer together. And it's doing it again. Why does it take something this awful to make us realize what we have. This is perhaps the one lesson I do forget. It's so easy to just go along our merry ways without thinking about what really matters. 8. We have to help each other, more. If your life is good, you need to lend a hand to someone else. We just have to, it's that simple. So many people helped us. So many people are helping Robyn. 9. You never know what's on someone's plate. You never know what burden they might be carrying. Be careful. Be watchful. Be kind. 10. Things do get better. Life does go on. We are supposed to live, again. If we don't, we have wasted the journey, and the lessons. I said earlier that I was going to try to go back and pull out the "greatest hits" of this blog but I don't think I will. It's too hard. I'll keep writing miscellaneous random thoughts until the end of the month. Cancer taught me to grab hold of life. Guess it's time.

Fun, again

2007-10-02T09:12:00.000-05:00

Cubs are in. Cathy's happy. Cathy's VERY happy. This is Cathy at the last home game of the season. She's happy, can you tell? Wow. Happy. That's a new concept. This summer, my main goal was to have fun. Selfish, huh. The last three summers have been extremely difficult and painful. As we all know. Summer of 04, leading up to Lou's diagnosis, was not good. We all walked around on eggshells, scratching our heads wondering what was wrong. Didn't get to alot of games that year. Didn't have alot of fun. At all. Then the next two summers........well, no need to go there, now. So THIS summer, I had one main objective: have fun. Simple huh. It's not so simple when you are no longer used to it. It's not so simple when you are surrounded by memories, pictures, and everything else that goes with another life. It's not so simple when you are no longer part of the old couple. You find yourself wondering how to have fun. if you should be having fun. If it's ok to have fun. You think you should be having fun in the old way, the way you used to have fun. You catch yourself having fun and wish you were having fun in your old life. But, I am learning. As you can see. I'm a pretty quick study actually. I figured it out by about August. How to have fun, for real, again. It's possible. Post season baseball helps for sure. With a little luck (no, make that ALOT of luck), I can stretch this out through most of October, maybe. This fun thing. Fun is good. With that thought in mind, I have decided I will be ending the blog at the end of October. It's time. It has served me well. And, I'm hoping it has served others well, too. But I'm trying to have fun now. And, my life is quite full with other, more important things, my dear niece first and foremost. That isn't so much fun, but I"m so glad I can do it, that I can be there for her. The fun I've had is helping me to help her, now, I think. She lost her mom when she was 12. Her step mom is pretty far away. I"m so glad to be near. She's like a daughter to me. So, I'm on to new missions I guess. Life. Guess that's what it is. I'm going to try to pull out the "greatest hits" from this blog during the month of October. Just a few. To remind us, to leave with you. Thanks for reading. Thanks for being there. GO CUBS!

What matters

2007-09-23T20:53:00.000-05:00

The sun shone so brightly today and the sky was so blue. Perfect. It was a perfect day. The Cubs are winning and none of it matters. It really doesn't matter at all. What matters is that this is my niece, on her 36th birthday just a week or so ago, with her two sweet little girls. What matters is that she has breast cancer. What matters is that she just started her treatments and is not feeling well, at all. On this glorious fall day, she is not feeling well. Please pray for her. Please pray that she can stay strong throughout the treatment. Prayers matter. Your prayers matter. Thank you so very much.

Symphony, the sequel

2007-09-20T21:24:00.000-05:00

Last night was symphony night. First one of the season. I only go to four over the season, with girlfriends. I was a bit edgy about going. I've written about this so many times before. Classical music , Lou.....he loved it. And we listened to an awful lot of it while he was sick. It helped. If it was the right piece, it could help, alot. Then we went to the symphony, that one January day, when he was sick. I wrote about that, too. How happy I was to finally get him there, again, only to have him ask, as we left Symphony Center, "where were we just now". All hopes, dashed. It was the last time we went to Symphony Center. Last season, I was moved to tears several times as I thought of him, that last time we went, how much he loved classical music. So I was curious how I would handle it, this year. There were feelings of deja vu, yes. But, the program was wonderful. Absolutely astounding, really. I just soaked it up. Loved it. Wished it could go on all night. I wished Lou could have been there. But I realized, God gave us music to enjoy. It's there to lift our spirits and carry us to new places. Music can do that. And , it did, last night. I was ok. I was really ok. I let the music carry me away. And it was ok. I'm looking forward to the next concert.

September 11

2007-09-11T09:04:00.000-05:00

September 11, 2001 looked exactly like this September 11. The day was crystal clear, sunny, bright blue skies, with the beginning of fall in the air. The night before, I had been at a Cubs game with work buddies. It was a perfect evening. Same incredible weather. And the Cubs won. I can remember, very clearly, an associate saying, "it doesn't get any better than this, does it". We all agreed, it doesn't. A pefect night, good friends, baseball. I t doesn't get much better than that. And then came the next day. September 11, 2001. Everything changed, didn't it. It started out normal enough. I tell this story because it says so much about Lou, about the kind of husband and father he was. He had an out of town business trip that day. He left home at around 6 am. for his flight I think. We never left each other without a proper goodbye. We learned that BEFORE 9/11. 6 a.m is just a tad early for me, so I went back to sleep until 7:00. I think I took Damon to school at 7:30, and returned home to get ready for work. For some reason, I had a morning talk show on tv. I NEVER HAVE THE TELEVISION ON IN THE MORNING, EVER. I am not sure why I did that day. But I did. And so, I learned about it, just as everyone else did, as it was unfolding. At first, I was a little confused, like I think we all were, not really comprehending what was happening. I watched it over and over, like we all did. Then it hit me. Lou was on a plane. Somewhere. He was going to Cleveland. East. I started hyperventilating. Was it possible his plane could have diverted to New York? Cleveland is enroute to NY from Chicago. I got very panicky. I had no idea if his plane had landed or not. It was due to land at around 8:30 I think. I didn't know what to do. The panic I felt was compounded by the fact that I was standing next to the window in the very tall building I live in. All of a sudden, I had to get out of there. All I knew was that planes were crashing into tall buildings and I had to get out of the one I live in. At that time, my office was very close to home. I ran all the way there. I felt better there. The group who went to the game the night before had gathered. They were from downstate and wanted to head home. Another one was from Boston. He didn't make it home until much later that week. I still didn't know the status of Lou's plane. Of course, the phone lines were crazy. We all just stood there in front of a television, frozen. Then the building announced that we all had to evacuate. They pretty much evacuated all of downtown if I remember correctly. My apartment building included. I HAD NOWHERE TO GO!!! But that wasn't my main concern. I had to find out about Lou's plane. This all sounds like it was hours, but it was really only something like a half hour. As I was leaving the office building, my cell rang. It was Lou. I still remember hearing his voice that day. He didn't know why I was so elated to hear from him. He called the minute he landed and still had not heard what was going on. He had landed in Cleveland after being put in a holding pattern for awhile. When they landed, the airport was in lockdown. No one on the plane knew what had happened. The airport was alerted to the possiblity of a plane heading in that direction. It was the plane that went to Pennsylvania. Lou said the airport was chaotic, to say the least. But the most chaotic part was trying to figure out what to do next. Obviously, he would not be getting on a plane back home that day. The car rental place was insane with people trying to get home he said. I wanted him home. I didn't want to be alone that day . Alone in our tall building. I knew Damon would want Lou home. Drew was away at school. Lou had a reservation for a car to get to his meeting, but it was impossible to get anywhere near the car rentals. After waiting for a long time, somehow, he managed to get a car. A few hours after he landed, he was able to start driving home. I think its a 6 - 8 hr drive. I went to a friends house for the rest of the day. Damon joined us after school. Lou arrived at around 6pm. I can remember how happy I was that he had made it. That he had persisted in getting a car, somehow. I can remember feeling safe, then. Lou wanted to go home. Damon was afraid to, I think. Lou told him if the president was in the White House, we could certainly be in our apartment. He was right, of course. He always made everything allright. That night, I felt very vulnerable sleeping in our room with the view of Lake Michigan. I kept envisioning planes. It took me awhile to get over it. I drove poor Lou crazy about it. He was the president of the condo association and knew alot about the building. I questioned everything about our safety. He checked it all out. Every little worry I had. And those worries were so dumb! After awhile, the worries went away. Life resumed, didn't it. What I guess I learned that day, is that anything can happen. And we only have this day. So cliche, I know, but I guess it sunk in that day. No sense worrying about tomorrow. Sometimes, it never comes. Three years later, Lou was diagnosed with the brain tumor. The weather was just like it was on that Sept. 11, just as it is today. A crisp, beautiful, late summer/early fall day. The entire fall was like that, the fall of the diagnosis. It didn't seem right, that the days could be so gorgeous, and things could be so wrong. Anything can happen. On any beautiful day, anything can happen. Cherish the day. Cherish each other. I think it's a great way to honor those who lost their lives.

Life Calls

2007-09-09T18:46:00.000-05:00

The beach is always good for thinking. Yes, it was a year. August 31. A year. Seems so long ago. A lifetime ago. Lou was sick for so long before that, we are really talking three years, or more, since he's been here. The real Lou. A long time. The day was sad. Empty. Was away, with friends. And traveled home, alone. Lots of time to think. Traveling is good for that. Beaches are good for that. Summer is over. Fall is in the air. My favorite time of year. Except for the memories it brings. Of first dates, of new love, of a new life with that new love. So long ago. New beginnings. That's what fall is for. Life is calling. I heard it, on the trip. It calls like the sea does, beckoning you to jump in. To get off the shoreline. To throw yourself in, not just dip your toe. There are songs I want to sing. Again. I want to dance. Again. I want to wear a red dress. Again. I think I want to live. Again. I think life is calling. And I want to answer it.

Blog Break

2007-08-20T00:13:00.000-05:00

Am taking a brief blog break to tend to some family business, work business, off to college business, and vacation business somewhere where there won't be internet access unless I go to the public library which certainly will not be open at the time I usually write! I will be away on August 31, the one year anniversary. Maybe that is a good thing. We were away for the first Christmas without Lou. Some firsts are just too hard to face. When I return, I will be an empty nester, for real. My 18 yr. old son/roommate will be ensconced at college. Another chapter will begin. Another autumn, without Lou. Forever is such a long long time. Perhaps a break will help. See you in September my friends.

Another list that isn't a list

2007-08-12T00:58:00.000-05:00

I'm still amazed by how alone you can feel while living in the middle of a big busy city. It's saturday night. Can you tell. Maybe if the Cubs won I wouldn't be feeling so lonely. At times like this I have to remind myself: TOP THEN THINGS TO BE GRATEFUL FOR TODAY (I so wish I knew how to do html so this would appear like the list IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE!). 1. Girlfriends who spend the night and drink champagne. 2. A really really good book that you can't put down and then when you do put it down, you can't forget it. Read it: "A Thousand Splendid Suns". I want to read it again. Now. And I just finished it. 3. Music. Instant mood changer. 4. Hitting the ball down the middle of the fairway. It can happen. 5. A drop in the humidity. We can breathe again and it wasn't a bad hair day. 6. Gelato for dinner. 7. Gelato just about any time. 8. Son #1's safe return with all his laundry. 9. IMing. Sometimes. 10. Tomorrow's another day.

Golfing With Lou

2007-08-04T21:57:00.000-05:00

Lou loved to golf. He loved the GAME of golf, not just golfing. He loved to watch it on tv, read about it, and play it. It's a gentleman's game, or it should be. He loved the rules, the etiquette, the beauty of a well kept golf course. He was pretty good at it too. He won the big tournament at the club once. His name is on the trophy on display in the bar. It is only fitting, then, that he would gift me with a set of clubs and golf shoes when we were married. I'm not all that athletic. I took years of ballet. They didn't have much in the way of girls sports when I was growing up. I played softball and ran away from the ball whenever it got near to me. But then, I couldnt really TELL if it was near to me because I absolutely REFUSED to wear my much needed glasses while playing. So much for my sports career. I was a cheerleader. And watched my two brothers play every sport imagineable. Nonetheless, I figured I should try golf since Lou obviously wanted me to. My folks played for years. How hard could it be? I was pretty good at miniature golf. So, Lou tried to teach me. I took lessons. And, we tried to play. It was hard when the kids were young. I never wanted to take all that much time out of a weekend to play, I felt I needed to be at home. But we played, some. Not enough. Late in the afternoon, when the course wasn't crowded, and the sun was going down, we'd play. It was nice. And, we played on trips. Just as I was starting to enjoy it, and just as we were starting to have the time to play, Lou got sick. The last time I played with him, it was August. Three years ago. 6 weeks before the diagnosis. Lou was off. His game was off that summer. Noticeably so. And , he was tired. Soooo tired. But he always rallied, always. If only we had known, that summer. Not that it would have made a difference. But it would have explained it all. Anyway, now I'm golfing, of course. Now I have the time to golf. Now I'm doing what I so wish Lou and I had had more time to do. For the most part, I like it. And I'm glad Lou taught me the game. The ins and outs. The rules. When I play, I constantly hear Lou's voice. His strong, but gentle voice. "BEAUTIFUL, that's beautiful", he'd say, when you hit a good one. "Just tap it in now". "Nice and easy, Cath, that's it". I hear him, constantly. I can smell his cigar. I said I have no regrets. But I do have this one. I wish we had golfed more. I think of him now, hoping he is golfing up there, with his beloved college roommate, also a big golfer, and maybe with my dad too. They had alot of fun on the golf course together. As for me, I guess I'm still golfing with Lou. As long as I can hear his voice, I'm golfing with him. Thank you my love.

PS

2007-07-27T23:19:00.000-05:00

I forgot to say this in my previous post. Thank you for your comments, those of you who do. I appreciate it. Especially some of the recent ones. I'm thinking about starting a new blog, a continuation for sure, but a slightly different focus. Don't worry, you'll be the first to know!! Thanks for reading.

"A Year Ago"

2007-07-27T22:41:00.000-05:00

I play the "A Year Ago" game quite often. It goes like this. I often think about where we were a year ago. Where we were in this brain tumor journey. Last summer, I could say things like: "A year ago, we still went out for walks". Or, "A year ago, we had gelato down on our front porch". Or, "A year ago, we danced at a wedding". The game is not as much fun as it used to be. Not that it was ever fun. Let's just say, it's a way to think about things, to put them in some sort of order. This summer, I can only say things like, "A year ago, Lou could be with us in the family room". The truth is, a year ago, Lou was declining, rapidly. But, I can still say something about Lou and "a year ago". And, I like to be able to do that. It keeps him closer somehow. I just realized tonight, that soon, I won't be able to say "a year ago, Lou ...". Soon, I won't be able to reflect on what Lou was doing a year ago, because a year will have passed. I don't like that. When I can think of Lou being with us just a year ago, it doesn't seem quite so bad for some reason. I guess it makes him seem closer. But when I can't say "a year ago" anymore, what then? I guess I will have to think up another game. Something like, "I can remember when Lou...". See what I mean? It makes it all seem long ago when you can't say "a year ago". I don't like it. I guess it means time is marching on, and I guess I just don't like it.

Mom

2007-07-24T23:58:00.001-05:00

My mom is the best. She's great fun, a serial shopper, always upbeat, makes friends wherever she goes, loves to watch her teams (Detroit), is generous in all ways, is always there for you, likes practical jokes, will try anything once, and is a self acclaimed "fast food junkie". She's not a good cook, is disorganized, has no sense of direction and is tone deaf. She's getting old, becoming forgetful, and is slowing down. I love her dearly. She lost the love of her life two years ago. My dad was one of a kind, an absolute gem, he was everything, and more. They met on my mom's first big job after graduating high school. She was a secretary for General Motors at the age of 17. My dad was an accountant there, and 7 years older. On her very first day, my dad asked her out. She said she had a boyfriend and couldn't. She then promptly broke up with her boyfriend. Two days later, she told my dad she broke it off. He then asked her out for that night. The rest is history. They were married 59 years. Just missed 60. My dear dad died in his sleep after an operation they said went well. I will never, ever forget that day. That phone call. The funeral. All of it. We worried about my mom. Could she carry on? Would she carry on. How would she cope. She seemed so frail. The first few months were rough. She was lost and cried at the drop of a hat. But, little by little, she found her way. She always said my dad would not be happy if she fell apart. She didn't fall apart. She kept going. She talks to his pictures, and to him, constantly, but she has kept going. She's taken care of things she never had to think about before. She's still bargain shopping and playing bingo. She's still watching all her sports teams and American Idol. She still takes the train to Chicago and walks to the nearby stores. She does not walk near as far on Michigan Avenue as she once did, but that's ok. She's still doing it. She wants a laptop. She loves Barack Obama because he is "cute". She flirts. And, she moved. That's huge. She has moved to assisted living, very close to my oldest brother in Cincinnati. She has kept going. She did not fall apart. I'm so proud of her, and amazed by her. I think it would be very very hard to be with the same person for 59 years and lose him. To be left alone at the age of 80. I think this is bad, but THAT...wow. So, today is about my mom. Because she keeps going. And in doing so, she keeps ME going. She's my inspiration. I just got back from visiting her in her new home. She's been there two weeks and is already a favorite. We shopped, alot. We saw a movie. We stayed up late watching tv. I got her out walking. I wore her out. We laughed. We had fun. I love you, Mom.

My Sweet Pea

2007-07-20T01:40:00.000-05:00

I'm trying not to only write about my sadness. I'm trying not to only write about missing Lou. In fact, I'm thinking about moving on from this blog sometime fairly soon. It seems to repeat itself with some regularity. It gets old, doesn't it? Even my best friends have stopped reading it. Who can blame them. So today....not about Lou. Not about me. It's about my darling Sweet Pea. She's my now 5 year old great niece. She turned five earlier this week. She's a very special child. Not just because she is my great niece. But because she is so joyful, so smart, so cute, so sweet. She just oozes goodness, all that is good. When Lou was sick , she would climb right in bed with him and talk to him, bring him his pills. She was never frightened by any of it. And, they were with us the day he died. I think he was waiting for her to leave, he left us twenty minutes after she went home. She's precious. I'm very close to her. We have a special bond I think. Having not had girls, I was besotted the moment she was born, and have been ever since. I'm so lucky she is in my life. She, and now her little sister. They are the best. But, anyway, the reason I write of her today..."Conversation with Anna"..... Just before her big birthday , I said to her, "I just don't think I can LET you turn five". "But you HAVE to Auntie". "Oh, I just don't think I can. I just want you to stay four," I say. "But Auntie, I HAVE to turn five" she says. "Oh, I just don't know......".....some back and forth ensues, .and then..."Don't worry, Auntie, I'll still be your Sweet Pea when I am five." Now you know why I'm besotted. She's a gift.

More Random Thoughts

2007-07-15T10:35:00.001-05:00

In no particular order. ( And, I STILL don't know how to create a list in html. I still don't know how to do ANYTHING in html, sorry for the run on sentences). l. When you don't have to get dinner on the table for anyone but yourself, it's way too easy to have chips for dinner. 2. When you have chips for dinner, you do not feel so well the next morning. 3. I still can't do certain things alone. Especially on a weekend night. Date nights. 4. I wish I could. 5. Summer still goes much too quickly no matter what stage of life you are in. 6. I get to golf and go to baseball games all I want now and it isn't what I want. 7. Work is good. 8. Even too much work is good, now. 9. There's a comfort in being surrounded by life as it was 10. I hate being surrounded by life as it was And so it goes. Happy Sunday.

Random Thought

2007-07-13T11:07:00.000-05:00

I still sleep only on my half of the bed. It's a nice bed. But it's half empty.

Allnighter

2007-07-10T04:39:00.000-05:00

It's been a long time since I've "pulled an allnighter". But, here I am. Getting awfully close to pulling an allnighter. Just a few more hours. It's work related. In a good way. Been a long time since work has kept me up all night. Guess that's a good thing. It's a good thing that there is work to do. It's a good thing that the work is so involving. Because when it is this involving it takes my mind off things. THOSE things. LOU things. When I'm all wrapped up like this, I don't think about him every five minutes. I don't see him in my mind as much. I don't wonder what it was like, what he thought, what he felt. So, this is a good thing, huh. So, all I have to do is work non stop and those thoughts will stop. Wow, what a concept. I think I'll go sleep on it. For a few hours. A cat nap. I'm too old for this.

No Regrets

2007-06-30T11:40:00.000-05:00

Last night was movie night with the girls. We all wanted to see a movie that just came out yesterday, called "Evening". I knew it could potentially be a bad one for me to see (read, SAD), but the cast was absolutely amazing, so I went along. The movie is beautiful. The film, itself, is gorgeous. The acting is superb. It is very, very real. Vanessa Redgrave plays a dying woman. OK, I knew this going in, but I did NOT know she was going to be dying the entire movie, laying in bed, dying. But, the movie is about love, and life, and living life, and having no regrets. As she is dying, the story unfolds of her unrequited love affair from long, long ago. The choices we make, to grab hold of the moment, or not. To go for true happiness, inspite of surrounding circumstances, or not. And what happens if you miss it. The different course life can take when you miss that moment, that chance, to grab hold and take the ride to somewhere magical. It hit me on many levels. Of course, the laying in bed, dying, was just too close to home. The last week of Lou's life was so much like this , the movie got that part right for sure. Death can be awful , and beautiful, all at once. What got me the most though, was the idea of having regrets. Of having regrets on your deathbed. Regrets that are big enough to carry through your life, til the very end. At the end, truth comes out. There are no more pretenses, it is all wide open for you to see, and hear. I know Lou had no regrets. I know he was very satisfied with his life. I know he did not feel cheated in any way. And I know he was happy that we did not miss that moment to grab hold. That we found each other and took the ride. And, I think when I lay dying on my own deathbed, I will feel the same. It would have been easy for me to miss the moment with Lou. He was so different then what "everyone" thought I should be with. I could have listened to the concerns that were raised. But I didn't. I grabbed hold, and never looked back. And it was beautiful. Oh sure, it had it's moments, of course it did. Lots of them. But it was magical, and it was special. I think it would be so very very sad to leave this earth with regrets. To carry regrets with us to the grave. Heavy thoughts for a saturday, I know. No regrets is a big thing with me. It was my mantra while caring for Lou through his illness. I didn't want to have any regrets about what we did, or didn't do for him. And I don't. I feel good about that. Life, and death, are better with no regrets.

Happy Birthday, Darling

2007-06-26T16:51:00.000-05:00

Dearest Lou, Yesterday was your birthday, the first one since you left us. I was not looking forward to the day, quite honestly. We always celebrate birthdays, you made sure of that! As the day grew closer, my mood became edgier, more anxious. I wasn't sure how I would handle it. Would it affect me the way Father's Day did? I wasn't sure I was ready for that, again. That was just a week ago. I wanted to acknowledge the day, however, not ignore it. I wanted to celebrate YOU, my love, and everything you were. We went to dinner on Sunday night, the boys and I, and Robyn and David. Damon left for New York yesterday, so we acknowledged your day, as a family, on Sunday. We toasted you. We thanked you for all you were for us. We thanked God for giving you to us. We hoped you were celebrating, too, with your mom, dad, and Kathie. Were you ? Maybe you even had a good cigar. I hope so. I hope you golfed too. You weren't able to do that the last few years of your life here. It was a lovely evening with the people who mean the most to me. You would have enjoyed it. On your birthday, yesterday, I created a new holiday in your honor at the office called "Founder's Day". The entire staff went to lunch at the Parthenon in your honor. We toasted you again. After all, if it weren't for you, this group wouldn't be employed together! I made a trivia game up about you, and awarded prizes. It was tricky. You would have liked it. There are so many new people who didn't get to know you, and I so desperately wish they had known you. The lunch got me through the day. Worked a bit late. The walk home was warm and sticky. With each block I could feel the sadness creeping in. Coming home to an empty apartment is no fun. I had made it through the day, only to arrive home feeling lonely and sad. I told someone yesterday that I CAN do this. I can live alone, I can socialize, I can fill my time, I can do this. I JUST DON'T WANT TO. I don't want to come home to an empty apartment. I don't want to have your half of the bed empty. I don't want to start over. I liked it the way it was. I don't WANT to do this. But I CAN, and I am, I guess. Drew arrived for a visit late in the evening. He had driven down to the cemetery. He said something that hit me a bit hard. He can more or less accept that you are gone, but the WAY it happened, what you went through, is sometimes the hardest part to think about. It's so true. And that is how the day ended, your birthday. It ended with me, alone. I felt good about the way we acknowledged it. But in the end, when it is all said and done, it was sad. And empty. I miss you, my love.

Father's Day

2007-06-17T18:25:00.000-05:00

It's hard to say "happy", attached to this day. It's not. It's not happy. And it's not Father's Day, really. The boys are gone, on a trip, together. Out of the country. I'm glad that they are. I don't think they celebrate Father's Day where they are. Good. Like Christmas, we'll skip it, this year. The first one, without Lou. He really wasn't here last year either. We acknowledged the day, and every time we said Happy Father's Day, he started to cry. He knew. We knew. So we stopped saying it. We just forgot about it. It was easier. But still, he was with us. Tough time of year here, his birthday is also this month. So, here I am, alone, on Father's Day. Not a good place to be. Actually, I just got here, I was away. Went to Lou's brother's. The country. I was not prepared, again, for how that would feel. I remembered so many times with Lou, and the kids, in their house. I saw Lou sitting in the living room. He really liked his brother's house. We went to the cemetary today. That was really why I went. It wasn't any easier this time. I thought maybe it would be. The grass is filling in now by his headstone. I leave my one red rose, and my tears. I cry for all he went through. For the constant confusion, for his disappearing memory, for the months of depression, for the treatments, for his failing body. I cry remembering the little notes I had to write for him so he could remember the steps to getting ready in the morning. How can that be? How was that Lou? I cry for the awfulness of it all. I cry for what he is missing, for what we are missing. His brother's hug is not enough. It's sweltering hot and we leave to get something to eat before I hit the road. It's a long way home. Trying to change the mood, to fill the empty car, I turn the tunes on. And the first one up, is this: The Heart Of Life (John Mayer) I hate to see you cry Lying there in that position There's things you need to hear So turn off your tears And listen Pain throws your heart to the ground Love turns the whole thing around No it won't all go the way it should But I know the heart of life is good You know, it's nothing new Bad news never had good timing But then, the circle of your friends Will defend the silver lining Pain throws your heart to the ground Love turns the whole thing around No it won't all go the way it should But I know the heart of life is good Pain throws your heart to the ground Love turns the whole thing around Fear is a friend who's misunderstood But I know the heart of life is good I know it's good I know it, too. It is. The heart of life is still good. The heart of life was good, even when Lou was sick. And that is what keeps us going, isn't it. Gotta believe that, you do. Happy Father's Day

Milestones

2007-06-11T23:40:00.002-05:00

Milestones are difficult, of course. We chose to ignore Christmas, and, as long as we stuck with it, it wasn't so bad. We had to leave the country however. Other milestones have come and gone, my birthday, a non event as we were far away. Oldest son's birthday, but he opted to be away that weekend (notice a pattern here?). Mother's Day, not too bad, after all, it was all about me and my sons, how bad can that be? But the graduations....that's a bit different. Can't go away for those. We had two graduations last week, one from high school, the other from graduate school. Alot of emotion there. How proud I was, and am. Bursting with pride. How difficult it was for my boys to carry on, through the 22 months of Lou's illness, and through the devastation afterwards. They kept going. They did more then that. They overcame it, they did not let this define them. They succeeded in spite of it. No, really, they excelled. They worked hard. They achieved their goals. I am so proud of them. And I wish Lou were here. Oh I know, he IS here, he DOES know. But I wish he was with us. I wish he saw Damon cross the stage and shake the principal's hand. I wish he had heard the bagpipes at Drew's graduation. But, inspite of wishing he were with us, I am grateful. I am grateful we had Lou for 25 years. That he was with these guys to manhood. So much of what they are is Lou. He made them what they are. I see it all over them. That is how Lou is with us. He shines through in our sons. His legacy. Milestones are hard. But if I focus on the good in them, it helps. There is still alot of good to focus on. draft

My Roommate

2007-06-03T12:03:00.002-05:00

Of course, he is my son. Not really my roommate. But he is, really, my roommate, now. It's been the two of us since September 1, 2006. My older son lives on his own, nearby, thankfully, but not here. We don't see him everyday. Just about though, he stops by just about every night, and I'm very grateful for that. But he's not my roommate. Son #2 , pictured here, is my roommate. And what a great roommate he is. The very best hugs ever. So big and cuddly. The sweetest smile. So easy going. He was always easy going. Laid back. Funny, in that dry, cool way. Does what he's supposed to do. Doesn't complain. Good grades. Great talent (he's a writer) . Good friend. Great son. Great roommate. Again, it is so clear that God orchestrates everything. I lost Lou, but I have two wonderful, amazing sons. That's pretty lucky, don't you agree? And, I had a roommate for one full year after Lou died. To get me through. To help me get used to this new life. He'll depart for college at the end of summer. Don't want to think about that. For now, I will think about fun things, like prom. See how handsome he is? And graduations, coming up this week. And parties. And summer. Sunny days and lovely nights. Trips and days off. My roommate, my son. I'm a lucky girl.

Napping Nico

2007-05-29T13:04:00.000-05:00

Now that I know how to post pictures (if only I knew how to get them OFF my camera, we'd really be in business), here is Misa's brother, Nico, doing what he does best, napping. Nico often sleeps on Lou's pillow next to me. They know. Animals know, don't they?

Miss Misa

2007-05-28T18:09:00.000-05:00

Our little Miss Misa was voted the "Cutest Kitten" in the Chicago Tribune's Petpalooza Photo Contest. This is the winning pic. We had all our friends vote for Misa, but I think others must have found her as adorable as we do because over 30,000 votes were cast in total for the five categories of pictures/pets. That's alot of pet crazy people or people who have too much time on their hands. Misa won a $100 gift certificate to the pet store we buy her expensive food from. Now she is insufferable. Meanwhile, her brother, Nico, is feeling a bit left out. I couldn't find an adorable picture of him at the time. These kitties entered our lives a few weeks after Lou left our lives. Not quite the same, but they do love to cuddle and they have filled our lives with much joy. God really knew what He was doing when he made kitties.

Out Of The Closet

2007-05-28T17:27:00.001-05:00

When you live in Chicago, you do not tend to make picnic plans for Memorial Day. It is usually cold and / or rainy. Nine times out of ten. That is why I usually plan to clean my closet on Memorial Day, because, when you live in Chicago, this is about the time you can kind of, maybe think about putting away the winter clothes for the summer, save a sweater or two you might need for a night the wind is blowing in at Wrigley Field. So, today finds me cleaning my closet as is my Memorial Day tradition, except it has not really been done for a few years. I have EVERY season of clothes jammed in that space, not to mention items that no longer fit, and things that were out of style three years ago when I last seriously attacked the closet. It never got done while Lou was sick. Alot of things didn't get done while Lou was sick. The important things , for the most part, got done. Like spending time together. Listening to music. Eating gelato. Watching Law and Order and Frasier re-runs. Doctor appointments, monthly MRIs, prescriptions, and all that. Everything else....slid by the wayside. Closets in particular. I'm trying to be ruthless this time around. But it's hard. I keep hearing Lou's voice, saying things like : " I always liked you in that " (no matter how out of style it may be, if he liked it, he liked it), or " that's a great color for you " (he was better at that then I am), or "gee, you look pretty in that". And then, there are all the lovely things he bought me over the years. I have not been able to bring myself to part with any of them, even though some no longer fit, and many of them truly are out of style. This one he gave me for Christmas, that one for my birthday. This is the one I wore on Mother's Day, this one to a black tie affair. This one we slow danced in. This one I wore for dinners with his clients. Sigh. It's hard to be ruthless about memories. The good ones. The dress I wore to his memorial...shoved back deep into the corner. Maybe I'll even get rid of it. But some of the others...they hang there, reminding me of that life that seems so long ago now. I haven't even TOUCHED Lou's closet yet. I wonder when I will. I wonder when I will feel strong enough to do that. There's a comfort in having his closet full, full of his clothes that still smell like his cologne. I can't get rid of these things of mine, how will I get rid of HIS?? My breaktime is almost over. The closet calls. Ruthless, I must be ruthless. They are things, afterall, just things. Things that once were bright . Things that were bought with love. Things that made Lou smile . Things that made me feel special. Things that painted a memory. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing.

Our Front Porch

2007-05-25T14:46:00.001-05:00

Those of you who have been with me for the last two summers know all about our "front porch". We don't HAVE a front porch. We live in a very tall building with NO porches! Our "front porch" is actually a plaza type area below street level that looks up at the sky and buildings, and the church across the street, with shops and small tables and other sitting areas, and a water fountain/wall. It's really a very pleasant place to sit. You do not get the street sounds because of the fountain. It can be sunny or shady, with a nice breeze. People of all kinds come and go. You can sit and eat from one of the restaurants, just have coffee, or just sit. We've lived in this building a very long time. The front porch was not always there, but it's been there for quite awhile. For all the time it has been there, Lou and I did not spend all that much time on it. That's because we were always busy. By the time we got home on weeknights, had dinner, did the dishes, homework, kids stuff, phone calls, etc, it would be too late. On the weekends, we were usually out doing other things. And, honestly, if you don't use it, you can easily forget it is there. The first summer of the brain tumor, that would be summer of 05, we spent ALOT of time on the front porch, together. There's a small italian deli there that has excellent gelato. I gained alot of weight that summer with all the gelato we ate! We often went down in the evening. Lou just loved it. He would marvel at what a great spot it was. He loved the people watching, he loved the breeze, he loved the evening time, the gelato, and he just loved the spot, in general, looking up at the surrounding buildings. He would say what a great place it was to live. And, every time we were there, EVERY TIME, he would say "this is so nice. We should do this more often". And, I would always nod and say, "you're right, we SHOULD do this more often", even if we had just been there the night before. We spent alot of that summer on the front porch. We took candles down one night, and champagne, with dear friends. It was sad when it started to get cool, and fall came. We sat there until it was truly too chilly. Then came summer 06. I don't need to spend alot of time talking about that. By the time it came around, Lou was not able to walk much on his own, if at all. He was using a walker inside, and not very well at that. To get him down to the porch, I had to use the wheel chair. It wasn't easy. I always THOUGHT it sounded like a great idea, in reality, it was pretty difficult to navigate. We probably made it down to the porch twice. I didn't take him once we got to the point that he really couldn't handle the gelato all that well. After that, we stayed in almost all the time. It was too hard to get him out, and he really didn't want to go out anymore. We managed to get him out, with lots of help, for the last time, two weeks before he died, for the cigar night. The porch was a memory for me, and lost, totally, for him. A great , bittersweet memory for me. Last night was a porch night. It was a lovely summer evening. I had dinner out with two young ladies , my good friend's twenty something year old daughter whom I love like my own. As I approached our building on the way home, I decided to walk down to the porch. I went into the itallian deli for a gelato. I sat at a table taking it all in. It wasn't the same of course. Not at all. It was lonely, and empty. I didn't stay. As I left, Lou's voice played over and over in my mind, "we should do this more often". The thing about the brain tumor is that it brought us so much closer together. We spent so much time together because of it. We didnt' have to worry about getting home from work earlier to go to the porch. We DID "do this more often". I'm so glad we did. I am so grateful for each and every minute we had on that porch. And I really, really miss it.

On My Own

2007-05-24T14:28:00.001-05:00

Somewhere inbetween my last post and now, I realized that I'm on my own here. What I mean is, it is really up to me to make this work. I can only rely on friends and family so much. At some point, I have to be brave and carry on, on my own. I won't ALWAYS have a friend to have dinner or coffee with, I just might have to be on my own. I won't ALWAYS have someone to go to a movie with, or see a concert with. My sons WILL leave, are in the process of leaving. My mom is NOT moving here, she is moving near my brother. My niece and God daughter and her darling baby are moving from here in July. Yep, I'm on my own. Can't rely on everyone else for my own good time. This is quite a revelation to me. It hit me last friday night. I had an early dinner out with friends, and was home around 8pmish. USUALLY, on a friday night, I can't handle being alone at home (teenage sons are never around on the weekends). It's been a really hard thing for me. That friday, I put a movie in the minute I got home. That took two hours. By then, I did my usual late night stuff and turned in. IT WAS NOT ALL THAT AWFUL. I realized, then, that this is my responsibility. Waiting around for company and phone calls is not going to help me get through this. Learning how to handle alone time, no, how to ENJOY alone time, is going to help me get through this. I'm not such bad company, really. Oh, I play the music too loud and snack too much, but really, I can manage. BIG revelation. Meanwhile, today I am sorting through pictures. So much for being brave, for managing my alone time...it's not working for me today. Not at all. To be expected. I can do it as long as I don't look back I guess. I wonder how you do that, how you move forward, without looking back. Guess I'm not ready. But at least I know I CAN make it through a friday night. That's progress.

An Affair To Remember

2007-05-14T20:08:00.000-05:00

It's on tv tonight. It's on two times. My all time fave movie..."An Affair To Remember", Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. I'm such a sucker for it. So romantic. So sappy. Soooooo wonderful. I like "Sleepless In Seattle" and "Love Affair" with Warren Beatty and Annette Bening too, the remakes or take offs. But the original is, by far, the best. I don't dare watch it, alone, without Lou. No, that would do me in. I had an affair to remember once...it lasted 25 years. It was grand, it truly was. Can't do the movie, not tonight, maybe not ever again. The real thing was better anyway.

Mom

2007-05-13T11:10:00.000-05:00

Lou's mom was a dear, dear woman. She was first generation Greek, her parents were from Sparta. She was strong, like you would expect a Spartan to be, but gentle, loving, and caring. Her family was her life. She met Lou's father in a somewhat "arranged" manner, and it worked. Interestingly, he was sixteen years older than her, born in Greece (but that is another story entirely). When they married, she was uprooted from Chicago to the tiny town downstate of Pekin Illinois. She knew no one. Her life was not easy, though of course, she would never admit that. Raised four children while Lou's dad worked very very hard. All went to college, on academic scholarships, Lou's dad only finished second grade, and his mom did not finish high school if I remember correctly. She was also, beautiful. Lou adored and honored her. He called her every sunday night, no matter where he was in the world. He showered her with gifts of all manner. Lovely clothes, jewelry, trips, television sets. Nothing was too good for his mom, as he called her. He always felt it was unfortunate that she could not continue her schooling, that she could not have worked outside the home in some manner. Lou was always so supportive of women working outside the home. Lou's father died many years ago, leaving his mom alone in Pekin, the kids grown. She was stubborn, and would not leave. We tried to get her to move up to Chicago, she wouldn't do it. As the years went on, she began to be forgetful. Living alone can do that to you. At first it was manageable, with lots of note taking and reminder phone calls and visits. Fortunately, Lou's brother lived nearby. It progressed. She would forget to eat and wasn't taking care of herself. A serious bout of dehydration and a fall landed her in the hospital, and from there, into a "home". This happened while we were away on vacation. I won't get into it here, but it was devastating to all of us, but especially to Lou. In the "home" environment, she very quickly slipped into a state of confusion, never to return. It was heartbreaking to see her. Gut wrenching. She died after living there for a few years. It was not as it should have been. It could have been better for her, her last days could have been better. Had we been in town, maybe the outcome would have been different, who knows. Once she was in the "home", she could not be moved. It was done, it was over. Lou never quite recovered from that pain, it haunted him. And then, the brain tumor came. And all that it brought with it. Lou could not remember that his mom was gone. Daily, he would ask, "how's Mom?". Sometimes several times in the same half hour. Before we fully understood the magnitude of destruction the tumor had created, we would answer truthfully, thinking that with repetition, it would stick. We would tell him that mom had passed on. This truth brought shock, tears, and disbelief. He would ask "when did it happen", "how did it happen", "did she suffer", "was I there", etc etc etc. You would think that it had been understood and digested, only to have the question raised again twenty minutes later. This went on for months. We got smart and told Lou that his mom was fine, and that she was down in Pekin. It was much much better to handle it that way. It seemed to satisfy him. He never, ever stopped asking about her. He held her so close, so deeply in his heart and soul. Near the end, he saw her. He told me she was in the room. I know she was. She was waiting for him. It was a comfort to me, to know that he would be reunited with her. That there would no longer be the unending questions, the pain and confusion. I'm thinking about that today. I'm thinking about Lou's deep love for his mother. I'm thinking about the fact that they are together, celebrating this Mother's Day, together at last. No need for material gifts. Eternal love. It's more than enough. Happy Mother's Day.

Tulip Time

2007-05-08T01:16:00.000-05:00

It's tulip time in Chicago! This means thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of tulips grace our city walks, parks and the planters in the middle of the streets, like up and down Michigan Avenue in particular. It's spectacular! They just magically seem to "appear" in late April. I suppose some sort of tulip elf plants them in the dark of night. Actually, I saw a city worker planting some one morning last week. I thanked him for the great job he was doing. I hope he didn't think I was being sarcastic because I was NOT. Thank heavens for those city workers who take care of our parks and greenery. Back to the tulips. They really hit me as I left the office late last week. I don't think I had truly noticed, or appreciated them before then. As I walked home, down the avenue, they blanketed the walks and streets. Gorgeous colors. Everywhere. They are so cheerful looking. Happy. Of course, I felt sad. Lou just loved everything about Michigan Avenue, as we would walk arm and arm. I felt overwhelmingly sad. And alone. But that was last week. Today, I felt different. Saw the Cubs play and win this weekend. I hit balls at the driving range yesterday. I'm getting thru the foot high stack of paperwork that never seems to end. I can either look at the tulips and be sad that Lou isn't here, or I can look at them and be happy for their beauty. Today, I tried the latter. It worked. For today anyway.

Why I Need Caffeine

2007-05-05T01:11:00.001-05:00

For the first several months of the brain tumor journey, Lou would wake up not knowing what had happened. I always stayed in bed until he woke up because the awakening was always awful. He would wake up, and ask what time it was. That would lead to , "Why am I not at the office". The brilliant people from rehab (sorry, they really ARE brilliant, but they do not know WHAT to do with brain tumor patients) told me to explain to him that the reason he was not at work was because he was not well. Because he was not well, with a brain tumor. How's that for a great way to start the day? That inevitably lead to tears, anxiety, questions and more questions, more tears and anxiety. The routine repeated itself daily, for months. It could take two hours to get out of bed. I didn't follow their advice for long, but no matter what I tried, it didn't work. There was a book I was supposed to take Lou through each day, at breakfast. The book had things in it, like the day, date, our names, where we lived, what we were going to do that day, and what Lou was being treated for (at the time, we were going to daily radiation, so that is what the agenda for those days said). It was almost like a book kids make in kindergarden. The thinking was that this was supposed to prompt some memories, and, with repetition, things would get better. Can you imagine looking at this, with your brilliant husband, a national collegiate debate champion, at the breakfast table? Going through these basic topics, only to have them forgotten a few minutes later? I gave up on that, too. Eventually, we got to a place where Lou could get up and make it through breakfast without all this. At some point, he didn't ask why he was home anymore. At some point, he didn't ask why he was taking so many pills and seeing so many doctors. I'm not sure it was because he comprehended, or accepted it. I think it was the meds that finally kicked in and took away some of the anxiety. It doesn't matter, now. What matters now, is that I think about this, alot. As I go through my days, I think about his days. I think about what it must have been like for him. Sometimes, I wake up, and see all the pictures of him, and us, in our room, and I almost forget that it happened. Almost. When you are in that groggy , not quite awake state. That's when I think about what it must have been like for him. I think about those mornings, how he would wake up, and not understand. I can't imagine it. I can't imagine starting the day like that. It's not such a great way for me to start my day either. That's why I have to have four shots of espresso. To make that memory, of Lou, with no memory, go away. So much for my positive posts. Maybe tomorrow. I've really been missing him.

A Positive Post

2007-05-03T10:44:00.000-05:00

I promised myself yesterday that I would post a positive note one of these days. Yes, I struggle daily with the after effects of dealing with our brain tumor journey. Correct, it does not leave me. And of course, Lou is always, always on my mind. Always. BUT, life is not all that bad. I don't want to give anyone the impression that I am totally falling apart. Not true. I'm coping, as they say. Some days are better than others. Some days are basically ok for the most part. No day is ever TOTALLY ok, but, that's ok. That's as it should be, that's as it will be. Life was never totally ok before all this either, right? But THOSE issues seem so so small now......anyway, the positive post! Here ya go: TOP TEN REASONS TO BE HAPPY TODAY (note, I do NOT know how to make this into an easy to read honest to goodness LIST, so sorry ). I type it like a list and it comes out all strung together. l. My little gurrrlll kitty was sooooo mushy to me last night. She is ALWAYS a bit standoffish. EVERYTHING has to be on HER terms (imagine that!). She NEVER jumps in your lap. Well, she did last night, TWICE actually. Bliss! 2. Hugs from my sons. They are the best (the hugs AND the sons!) 3. I got some messy paperwork done yesterday after much bureacracy. HATE THAT, but LOVE that it's DONE! 4. Driving my new car with the music cranked up and the sun roof open 5. My newest baby great niece who fell asleep in my arms on Sunday. 6. My nieces, all of them. The great nieces and their moms. They are like daughters (and ok, I guess grand daughters too), to me. 7. Trader Joe's flowers. One can actually afford to buy flowers weekly there! Thank you, Joe. 8. TWO HOURS of Grey's Anatomy tonight! 9. Female doctors. YOUNG female doctors (no, this has nothing to do with #8). I have two great female doctors who have children and therfore work three long days vs. five. I think this is wonderful. I must be getting old, but I can remember when all doctors were MEN. How on EARTH could a FEMALE handle being a DOCTOR ? I'm certainly glad we have figured THAT one out, and I LOVE that they seem to manage it ALL. Of COURSE they do. They are women after all. 10. Comments on my blog from people like EMILY. Wow, Emily, I don't know who you are, I would have loved to have met you on the walk. I am so sorry about your dear sister. I will keep her in my prayers. Thank you for reading. The sun is out. Gotta rally.

Walked The Walk

2007-05-03T10:22:00.000-05:00

We did the Walk on Saturday. It was an unbelievably gorgeous day here. Bright blue sky, sunshine, no humidity, perfect temperature. I have no idea how many people were there, but the event raised over $400,000, which was their goal, and $100,000 more than last year. Last year, they had 2,000 participants, so I am sure there were more this year. We had 17 walkers with us. Family mostly, dear friends, and folks from the office. We sort of ambled as we had two wagons with us, little ones! Our team has raised over $3,000. I'm happy about that, but NEXT YEAR...LOOK OUT! I was really touched several times during the walk. It was emotional for me. The brain tumor bond is very very strong. I feel connected to anyone dealing with this awful disease. And, my heart just breaks for them, knowing the road they tread. There was a young woman pushing a guy, about 20 something, in a wheelchair. The sign she wore on the back of her tshirt said she was walking for her brother, Lou. Of course, that caught my attention. Lou was in the wheelchair she was pushing. His shirt said "I am walking for myself". The image of Lou in a wheelchair appeared. Sometimes I can't even believe that WAS Lou. Not our Lou. I'm praying for that Lou in the wheelchair. I don't think he was doing all that well. My heart is still heavy thinking about him, his sister, the love they share, the fight they face. Another young guy in a wheel chair with a large scar on his skull. Surgery scar. So many people walking in memory of someone. Pictures on their shirts and signs. And then I connected with someone from Florida, who I've chatted with in the online brain tumor support group. We had planned to find each other. She lost her mom about the time we lost Lou. Her team raised $10,000, WOW!! It was special meeting her. As I said, the brain tumor bond is tight. Very. That's just the way it is, for alot of us anyway. It doesn't leave you. It forever changes you. So, I'm glad we did the walk. I'm glad we did it for all the people suffering with this beast, and all the ones to come. And, I'm glad we did it to honor Lou, and the valiant battle he fought, a battle he never really comprehended. I guess it was better that way. For him. Not for us.

A Very Good Cause

2007-04-27T01:14:00.000-05:00

This Saturday is the 2nd annual "Path to Progress" walk/run for the American Brain Tumor Association. The event takes place right here in Chicago, along the lakefront. The American Brain Tumor Association exists to raise funds to provide grants for research into new treatments for brain cancer. They are funding some incredible scientists and studies. Better treatments cannot come soon enough for this, what is called an "orphan disease". "Orphan disease " because it gets no attention. Because it doesn't affect as many people as other cancers. Its an incredibly difficult cancer to treat. There are 120 different kinds of brain tumors, that's why its so difficult. The current "standard of care" treatment is "successful" in about 20% of the cases. If you call surviving a few years successful. They do. Most folks survive only one year with this disease, if they are lucky. Lou beat the odds by living 22 months with a glioblastoma, a stage IV brain cancer, sitting in his head. His was inoperable. That's particularly difficult to treat, let alone cure. Cure was not a word in our vocabulary. Neither was remission. But there is hope. New drugs are in clinical trials that are seeing some better responses. But it's not enough. That's why we need more research. That's why we are walking on Saturday. We're walking to help the folks I talk with online who are living with this awful disease, hanging on until a better treatment is found. We're walking to help Valerie Grace, a beautiful 2yr. old who has a brain tumor. We're walking to help Dorothy, who was just diagnosed two weeks ago. And Kate, and Pam, Al and so many other dear, dear people. Too many. If you would like to help the cause, go to www.abta.org. Click on the link for the Path to Progress. To support our team, type in Team Beres where it says "find a team". It will tell you what to do. Or, you can mail your donation in, the address is on the website. Please reference Team Beres. Any donation is welcome, any at all. I wouldn't be asking if I did not feel it was a good cause. It is. It's a very good cause. Thank you. Thank you, all.

Tired

2007-04-22T12:58:00.001-05:00

It's been a very long week, hasn't it. Very long. Let's see.... storms out east, the Imus mess, mom went home after three weeks here, a friend's cousin has a brain tumor and needs help, my allergies or something are acting up, last parent teacher conference (yes, even THAT makes me sad), tax day, and, Virginia Tech. Especially, Virginia Tech. If anything, I look at what has happened there and I realize, my problems are small, really, in comparison. To lose a child, in that manner, I don't know how one would ever recover from that. Ever. THIS is hard enough. This, losing your beloved as we did, is hard enough. But THAT, I cannot imagine. I'm very tired today. I slept for twelve hours and I am still tired. I'm sure it's the allergies. But I'm just tired. It's sunny and gorgeous, and I'm tired. Its the kind of day I used to force my family out, out to bike ride or to the park, or rollerblading or whatever. Sometimes I think I have not yet fully caught up on my rest from all we went through with Lou. It took it's toll, that is for sure. Physically and emotionally. Its a very deep kind of tired that I've never experienced before. I do everything everyone tells me to do to help myself feel better. But I'm still tired. So very tired. It's not the way I WANT to be. It's just the way I AM, right now. I leave friends in a lurch, I'm late for everything, I'm not all there, wherever "there" is supposed to be. I'm nowhere, really. Neither here, nor there. Half in, half out. I guess it comes with the territory. I'm off to do what I'm supposed to do to help myself feel better, I'm taking a walk in the sun. Let's see if it helps.

Could It Be ?

2007-04-15T11:12:00.000-05:00

Don't look now. No, you BETTER look NOW, it might not be here later. IT'S THE SUN ! Remember THAT ? We have a bright blue cloudless sky and sun, glorious sun. Light. My kitties are basking in it. I feel better already and I haven't even been out yet. Perhaps I am bi polar. This mood thing. No, I just don't like POLAR. Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say it's all right Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here Here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say it's all right Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here Here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say it's all right Sun, sun, sun, here it comes... Sun, sun, sun, here it comes... Sun, sun, sun, here it comes... Sun, sun, sun, here it comes... Sun, sun, sun, here it comes... Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, and I say it's all right It's all right The Beatles said it best. It will be all right.

TGIF (again)

2007-04-13T23:50:00.000-05:00

It's been a long week. It started with the trip to the cemetary last Saturday. Then a lovely Easter with the family but one person noticeably absent. Cubs home opener, in the freezing cold (so what else is new) on Monday, they lost (so what else is new), then on to the anniversary on Wednesday. It would have been our 26th. Woke up to my kitty on Lou's pillow. He doesn't always sleep there. I think he knew. It was cold, gray, sleeting, snowing, and raining all at once. I could have easily stayed in bed, but perhaps fortuitously, had a meeting to get to. It was a long day. When I got home, there were roses for me. Roses from "your guys". That's the way Lou signed cards and presents when they were from the boys and himself. "Your guys" . Yep, that did it. I thought alot about our anniversary last year. Our 25th. I was elated to have made it to 25. We went out to a special dinner. We had to take Lou in a wheel chair. Through the kitchen into the dining room. No matter. He certainly didn't know. He would have been mortified, actually. He made the same toast, over and over. That's about all he could do. But he enjoyed himself, he did. And so did I. I have pictures of that night, all dressed up , kisses and holding hands. I can remember thinking he looked good. I look at the pictures now and I see it. He didn't look good. Life was draining from him. His eyes were flat. And I refused to see it. Refused to acknowledge it. Kept dragging him out. Kept building him up. Kept holding him up. Kept holding on. It was our last anniversary together. I knew it that day. Everyone knew it. But everyone played along. It kept me going. It kept Lou going. I was very tired Thursday. Tired, as if I had gone through it all again. THAT tired. A deep, aching kind of tired. A 4 shot espresso tired. And then, it was friday. TGIF. I love fridays. The week is over. And I made it. Small victories.

Signs of Spring

2007-04-08T00:53:00.000-05:00

You have to really look hard for them. It's 30 degrees, windy, and snow is predicted for next week. The Sox canceled their game last night, how's that for a sign of spring? But I did see a sign today, just when I needed it most. It was a rough day. We went to the cemetary for the first time since the day Lou was buried, way back on an indian summer day in early September. It's a three hour drive there. Not the most fun way to spend a Saturday. I had to go, our anniversary is this week. I had to leave my one red rose for him, I had to. And, his stone is in. We needed to see it. I wasn't prepared for the effect that would have on me. Seeing his name on the stone. I hated it. It hurt so much. I wanted so badly to hug him. It was so cold out there, and gray. Miserable. But, when it came time to leave, I noticed the sun broke through the clouds, just a BIT. And there was a small patch of blue. When we got to the car, I saw a robin in the grass. As we drove off, another robin had joined the first. A pair. A sign of spring. Or a sign from Lou. Either way, it lifted my spirits, for a moment. The sun didn't stay out for long. Soon, it was overcast again. Spring, like so many special things in life, can be fleeting.

Re Entry

2007-04-06T00:32:00.000-05:00

Was away for a few days, again. This time with my younger son. Being away is good, I like it. It's the coming back that is hard. For some reason, even more so this time. Too much more so. I've been in a funk all day. I guess it is the realization that this doesn't go away, does it? "This", as in, this life. This life, now. This life, sans Lou. It is still here upon my return, imagine that! It didn't pack up and go away while I was gone. It was waiting here for me. I used to be able to find the good in practically everything. Even while Lou was sick, I saw alot of good going on around us. I can't find it now. I try and I can't. On the surface, it all looks good, I'm sure. But it's not. I just ACT like it, thinking that if I act like things are ok, at some point, they WILL be. So far, it is not working. It certainly didn't work today. But then, today I didn't even try to act like things were ok because they really were not and I couldn't possibly even try to pretend they were. I returned from a trip and it's all still here and it is not ok. Well, tomorrow is another day. I can try tomorrow. I WILL try tomorrow.

A Surprise

2007-03-28T23:20:00.000-05:00

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

2007-03-25T12:44:00.000-05:00

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

2007-03-24T01:11:00.000-05:00

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

2007-03-21T15:02:00.000-05:00

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

2007-03-20T22:14:00.000-05:00

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

2007-03-13T10:31:00.000-05:00

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

2007-03-11T12:21:00.000-05:00

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

2007-03-10T00:14:00.000-06:00

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

2007-03-06T16:14:00.000-06:00

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

2007-03-03T23:56:00.000-06:00

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

2007-03-01T00:10:00.000-06:00

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.

Well, That Explains It

2007-02-24T19:44:00.000-06:00

Excerpts from an article of interest in the Chicago Tribune, as if this is front page news, but it was: Scientists measure 5 stages of grief Most people's anguish eases after six months; others might need treatment, study finds By Ronald Kotulak Tribune science reporter Published February 21, 2007 When a loved one dies, people go through five stages of grieving, according to accepted wisdom: disbelief, yearning, anger, depression and acceptance. Now the first large-scale study to examine the five stages suggests that they are accurate, and that if a person has not moved through the negative stages in six months, he or she may need professional help dealing with the bereavement The study, published in Wednesday's issue of the Journal of the American Medical Association, also found that, contrary to common belief, yearning or missing a loved one is a far more dominant emotion than depression--meaning mental health experts who treat the grief-stricken may need to refocus attention on feelings of loss. "It's important both for clinicians and the average layperson to understand that yearning and not sadness is what bereavement is really all about," said study author Holly Prigerson, associate professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School and director of the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute's Center for Psycho-Oncology and Palliative Care Research. "It's about yearning, pining, longing and being angry and protesting that you can't have this person back," Prigerson said. Not everyone follows the exact same pattern of grieving, she said, but most do. SO glad to hear I am normal.

It's Just A Car

2007-02-20T23:06:00.000-06:00

Or is it? I think not. I think it is NOT "just a car". It's a part of the family. For all the times I felt it was NOT the car that was "right" for me, because it was really LOU'S car, I now find that parting with it is like putting a family pet to sleep. A little background. When I met Lou, he had a little two seater, convertible sports car. He loved that car. I came to learn that he always had nice cars. Nice, as in foreign, cars. I grew up in Detroit. My dad worked for General Motors. There were NO foreign cars in OUR family. There were hardly any foreign cars in Detroit for that matter. I know nothing about cars. They are not all that high on my priority list. I did like the sports car, of course. We drove it for two years until Drew was born. We actually put his car seat in the small space in the back for awhile, not a good idea. Then we graduated to the sedan. And that was our car, for 23 years. That is still our car. That's why Lou bought nice cars I guess, we're still driving it 23 years later. Only now, it's time for it to go. It's been time for it to go for awhile. We didn't want to get a new one while Lou was sick. He would never have been able to understand that. It's time now. I took it in to the shop for something minor, I thought, and they wanted $2,500 out of me. No way. Just spent I forgot how much on it a few months ago. We did the bare minimum to get by for a month or so. It's time to go car shopping. Only now I don't want to. Suddenly, I can't bear the thought of parting with what I always felt was the car that was too big and too sedate. Safe. It was always safe though. Lou cared alot about that. Lou kept it in tip top shape, always. No wonder it lasted 23 years. Now it has rust on it. Just a tiny bit. He wouldn't be happy about that, at all. Now I feel badly that I didn't take care of the rust. Now I feel badly that I ever complained about it, how big it was (well, I'm a horrible parallel parker which is a necessity in the city and difficult with a large sedan). When I left the repair place, I was crying. It all came back to me. So many trips down to his family home in that car to visit his mom. So many trips to visit my folks. Carseats. Carpooling the kids. Driving out to the country club. Lou with a cigar and the sunroof open. The HUGE car phone we had, probably the first one ever made! Taking Drew to college. And, driving Lou while he was sick. He never understood that he could no longer drive. He loved that car. And now, it's time for it to go. It's just a car, darn it. I could care less about cars. It's A THING. But it's not. It's not at all. It's another piece of Lou that we are losing. THAT'S what it is. And THAT'S why it hurts.

All's Fair In Love And War ?

2007-02-18T22:53:00.000-06:00

As I was saying, it's been a busy weekend. I saw THREE movies! Movies are good. They require very little from you. I like that. And, it's dark. You can go without makeup and your hair in a mess. And, you can have popcorn for dinner. Perfect. Tonight I saw "Letters From Iwo Jima", with Damon. It's intense. It's beautiful. It's excellent. It's Lou. It's a Lou film. Pretty much the first words out of our mouths...."Dad would have loved this film". Yep, he would have. Lou loved all things historical, all things having to do with WWII in particular, all things having to do with fighting the good fight, all things patriotic, brave, and true. The movie is from the Japanese perspective, which makes it quite different then anything I've seen before. Still a Lou film. He would have liked the honor and the courage of these Japanese soldiers. He would have had tears in his eyes as he often did when watching that type of film. He shared those feelings with his sons. I'm so glad he did. Those "boys" had many years of watching great war films with their Dad. Zulu, his favorite. Band of Brothers. Gettysburg. Patton. Battle of Britain. Something about the Greeks and the Turks. All sorts of old ones I don't know the names of. I wouldn't have done those things with my boys. I couldn't have done those things. So, tonight, I am grateful that they had their Dad long enough to watch many movies with him. To hear his thoughts. To visit Arlington with him. To talk to a Korean Vet at the memorial in DC, with him. To learn about valor, from him. To learn about what is really right, from him. That's important. Did we wish Lou were sitting right with us tonight? You betcha. We'll always feel that way watching movies like this. But, Damon appreciated this movie because of Lou. Because of all that Lou taught him. It's embedded in him, in both of our sons. I'm so grateful for that. For the imprint Lou made on these guys. And is still making on them.

Busy Is Good

2007-02-18T12:52:00.000-06:00

I've been a busy girl this weekend. I've come to the conclusion, busy is good. Busy is better, for me. Of course, I CAN'T be busy doing the things I SHOULD be doing. I PREFER to be busy with things like going to the movies, playing with my darling great nieces, talking on the phone, staying up til all hours reading, listening to favorite music (loudly), talking to my brain tumor buddies online, going away, etc. In other words, busy IGNORING what faces me each day. Too busy to see all the things that still need to get done. The Lou things. All the Lou things that surround me. It's almost six months now. His closet and drawers are still filled with all his things. Some people get right at all this stuff. Not me. I prefer to ignore it. Thinking that somehow, it will go away, I guess. It's so hard to deal with it. To face it. It's so much easier to ignore it. Or maybe ignoring it makes me think it didn't really happen. Someday, I'll realize that it is not going to go away. Someday, I will realize this is my life, now. Until then, I think I'll just be busy. Busy acting like I am living. Busy trying to find my way. Busy being lost. IS busy good? I wonder, now that I put it that way. I wonder. What IS good.......10,000+ hits here, now THAT is GOOD! I just noticed that today. THANK YOU, everyone, for checking in. For sticking with me. For your support and encouragement. For being out there. Thank you. Happy Sunday.

Another First

2007-02-14T21:22:00.000-06:00

I have just returned from my first out of town business trip in over two years. I have not traveled for business in quite some time. I am grossly out of practice. I used to do this alot. Many years ago, the kids were younger then. From that standpoint, it was hard. I loved the work but the being away was hard, no doubt about it. But you get into a routine, and you just do it. I'm out of the routine. And, the routine has changed. No more pulling up to the airport a half hour before take off. I was wide awake at 3 am worried I'd be late for a 9:30 flight. And it's such a drag to practically undress in front of everyone waiting in the security line at 6 am . Then you have to empty the contents of everything you are carrying. Horrors, I forgot we are not allowed nail files and they took my teensy tinsy toothpaste tube, evidently it was not teeny enough. I'd be a horrible road warrior nowadays. At any rate, the trip was to New York. It is a trip that Lou used to make , regularly, over the course of many many years. I stayed in the hotel he always stayed in. We have stayed in it too. I didn't give it a second thought when it was booked. It was where our group was staying, where the group always stays for this particular business occasion. It had been many years since I was there in that hotel with Lou, I didn't usually go on this trip with him. But walking into the lobby brought it all back, and more. How many times had Lou checked into that hotel over the course of the twenty years he'd made that trip? Everyone who works there knows him. It was hard being there, really hard. I wondered if I was in a room he had been in. I thought about the last trip he had made there, what was it like, how was he feeling, because Lou had not felt well for quite awhile before he was diagnosed. Those trips were hard on him, but he always, always, forged on. I felt like I shouldn't be there. I felt like he should have been there, not me. Or, we should have been there, together. But not me, on my own. That was tough. It was strange. Just like this life is now....tough, and strange. The trip back was very very long thanks to the weather. We returned to Chicago via Dallas, last flight into O'Hare. I had alot of time to think about it. And I realized that so many of these "firsts ' can obviously be viewed two ways. The sad way, of course, which is the automatic reaction. Staying in the hotel Lou always stayed in made me sad, no doubt about it. On the other hand, there was a comfort in it. He was with me, he was. He was telling me that I could do it. He's trying to help me. He always was so supportive of my career. He always felt it was important. He's nudging me to carry on. I'm trying Lou, I really am. It's just hard, and it isn't all that much fun, on my own. But I AM trying.

Venting Today

2007-02-10T12:33:00.000-06:00

I'm doing everything I am "supposed" to be doing to help myself get through this. I have lots of wonderful friends and family. I have work to do. I have causes to help. I have books to read and places to go. I KNOW what to do, or what they "say" to do, to get through this. I AM doing it. But it isn't working. It isn't working at all. It LOOKS like it is working, to everyone else. But it isn't. It isn't at all. The fact is, it's empty. And lonely. And seems without purpose. I need another message from Lou. Maybe that will help.

The Rest Of The Story

2007-02-07T23:29:00.000-06:00

It's still arctic here. It got better for a few minutes yesterday when it snowed, but it's back to Siberia again. Which takes me back to the story...yesterday's story about the fur coat. There is more to the story. As I was saying in yesterday's post, Lou gave me a gorgeous fur coat for Christmas, 2004. Only I had to actually buy it myself, since he was unable to. Now then, back to the story. The coat was on sale, but I was, of course, still concerned about the expenditure. The salesman (the older greek guy), asked me about my old coat, whether or not I wanted to trade it in for a credit on the new coat. I told him the old coat meant an awful lot to me since Lou gave it to me the year our first son was born. I really wanted to keep it, or perhaps have it made into something else, a jacket maybe. He told me to bring it in so he could have a look at it. When I brought it in, he said it was much too old to do anything with it, that it would just fall apart, and I'd be better off trading it in, which is what I did. I think they gave me $900 for it or something, which went towards the new coat. Fast forward to September, 2006, almost two years later. About a week after Lou's memorial I got a phone call from the manager of the fur salon at Marshall Field's, (Macy's now). She said she was calling because they had a fur coat of mine in storage that I needed to pick up. I told her I did not have a fur coat in storage, my coat was in the closet at home, taking my coat to storage in the midst of what WE were dealing with last summer was the furthest thing from my mind! She insisted she had a coat of mine. She went on to say that it had been in storage for two years! Then it clicked in. She was calling about my OLD coat. The one I THOUGHT had been traded in. As it turned out, that is exactly what happened. The coat was NOT traded in, it was put in storage for two years! It mysteriously resurfaced the week after Lou's memorial, isn't that weird? I wonder now if the greek salesman actually did that on purpose, who knows? Having it turn up like that, right after Lou's memorial is like a message of some sort. I told the manager that I really wanted to have the coat restyled, but that the salesman from two years ago had discouraged me, saying it was too old. She said the coat was in great shape and that it would be no problem to have it restyled. So I did. I had it made into a shorter coat with a hood, it's very cute (and warm). So this winter, the first winter without Lou, the arctic winter, I have TWO fur coats from my love to keep me warm. If I can't have him, I guess two fur coats will have to do. Small solace.

BBBRRRRR.....FURRRRRRRRR

2007-02-06T23:39:00.000-06:00

This was the fifth day of sub zero weather here. When the temperature is sub zero in Chicago, the windchill is then usually double digits below zero. That is ARCTIC. People walk all wrapped up like mummies and nobody talks to each other. Your eyes freeze shut, not to mention what happens to drippy noses. It's like a science fiction movie about the end of the world. I hate it. I much prefer snow. I'll take tons and tons of snow, anytime, over this. But I can't complain. "I've got my love to keep me warm", wasn't that a song? I digress. Christmas of 2004. Two months after Lou's diagnosis. He was still somewhat able to Christmas shop that year. Not on his own! He was never able to do ANYTHING on his own after October 6, 2004. We were walking through Marshall Field's (THE Marshall Fields, NOT Macy's), and they were having a sale on furs. They were on display on the mezzanine level, right in the middle, there was no avoiding them. You had to walk THROUGH the furs to get THROUGH the store. The sale was fantastic. Really good deals. Lou wanted to stop. He wanted me to try on a fur coat. He wanted to buy me one for Christmas. I protested, as I often did whenever he suggested something so extravagant (something about being raised Catholic ?). Afterall, he already GAVE me a fur coat. At the time, it was 21 years old, he gave it to me the year Drew was born. I thought it was just fine. It took me awhile to get used to wearing one, and I didn't wear it all that often. It had to be arctic for me to wear it. So it really wasn't worn out. But Lou was insistent. He wanted me to have a NEW fur coat. Then the salesman joined in. That did it, he was greek. A charming older greek gentleman who was working there for only a month, then returning to Greece. There was no getting around it, Lou was going to get his way and buy me a fur. They were in cahoots, the two greeks. I tried on a beautiful coat that made me feel like Cinderella. Lou told the salesman he would be back to buy it. At that time, you would not necessarily know anything was wrong with Lou unless you knew him, or were really paying attention. So I suppose the salesman thought Lou WOULD be back. I knew different. I figured the whole incident would soon be forgotten, and my old coat would suffice for another twenty years. As it grew closer to Christmas, Lou repeatedly asked me if I needed a new fur coat, if I wanted a new fur coat, and told me he was going to buy me a new fur coat. He was fixated on it. I knew if Christmas came and there was no coat, he would be very upset. I decided I would have to buy the coat myself and pretend that Lou had bought it. It was the only thing to do. I went to visit the salesman. I explained the situation. I really was not all that keen on making such a large expenditure. I could have told Lou we bought it and he would not have remembered most likely. The salesman had me put the coat back on. He told me my husband wanted me to have it. He was right of course. With a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes, I knew he was right. So I bought it. Over the next week or so before Christmas, I repeatedly told Lou that we had gone shopping and that he had taken care of my gift. Finally, on Christmas Eve, I "opened" the coat. It was a very cold Christmas Eve, so the coat was worn to church and out to our traditional Christmas Eve dinner. It is a magnificent coat. I haven't worn it all that much the last two winters. Global warming and all, there hasn't been a big need for it. But this year is different. This year, it's arctic. This year, the first winter without Lou, I need this coat. Everytime I put it on, it is like wrapping myself in a big hug from Lou. It glistens in the sunlight and makes me glow from the inside. It was the last big "boffo" (as Lou would say) gift that he gave me. I will treasure it always. With a little luck, it should last another twenty years. Did he know? Did he know I would need a coat like that to keep me warm because he wouldn't be here? I wonder about that, I do. And again I say, thank you, my love. Thank you for everything you did for me, and for everything you are still doing for me.

An Early Valentine

2007-02-03T14:52:00.000-06:00

I'm sort of a nut about valentine's day. Maybe it has to do with loving the color red. Or maybe it's remembering carrying home a shoebox full of valentines in grade school, hurrying home in the cold, crisp Michigan weather, to open them up, one by one. I love homemade valentines of course. I love valentine treats. I love giving valentines. It's just a fun holiday. Nothing heavy. Even though without your beloved it is a bit sad, it can still be fun. So today, I put my valentines books out. It's February afterall. Just silly Peanuts and Snoopy books and a few others from when the kids were young. And inside one of them was a note that must have been sent with flowers, from Lou. Must have been from a Valentines Day past. A simple note that made me catch my breath. "Love you always and forever". An early valentine, from Lou. It made me happy, actually. Like he had just sent it from heaven. I'll have to open it again on Valentine's day and try to surprise myself. That's the hard part.

Two Years Ago

2007-01-31T01:45:00.000-06:00

Two years ago today, my beloved daddy died. He died in his sleep, after "successfully" coming through a difficult surgery. It broke my heart. I still can't believe he is gone. When my brother called me that morning from the hospital, I knew. I knew why he was calling. And I became hysterical. Damon was in his room, it was 6:15 am and he was not yet up for school. He was probably frightened at my hysteria, not knowing the reason...thinking it was something with Lou. He didn't come into our room to find out what was wrong. Finally, Damon called his brother. And then Drew called me. It was awful, just awful. The entire thing was awful. Because Lou could not grasp it, could not remember it, from moment to moment, so I just couldn't talk about it. Because it would be the "first time" for Lou, every time it was mentioned. And Lou was very fond of my Dad. So we just didn't talk about it. I went home for one night, hurried back for Lou. No wonder I can't believe my Dad is gone, I never got the chance to mourn him. Over the months after he died, when Lou would ask about my dad, I would say he was fine. Because I know my dad IS fine. The few times I told Lou he was gone were just too difficult for him, and for me. It's also, today, five months since Lou passed away. Sounds like a good day to hide under the covers, not to mention that it is very cold. Good riddance, January!

Back To Shred

2007-01-30T18:03:00.000-06:00

I haven't really been angry about all this since it began. I am not an angry person, in general. When Lou was diagnosed, I was petrified, but not angry. And, sad, certainly. Very sad. Then I sprung into action. And my attitude was that we had to play the hand we were dealt, and that we would play it as best we could. And, I think we did. I know we did. You get too wrapped up in getting through it to really be angry. Too wrapped up in trying to take care of your family, your household, and of course, your beloved. Where does anger get you, really? But, today, I got angry. Oh yeah, I was very angry the day I found those pills Lou was never able to take. So, I guess cleaning out is what gets me angry. Because today was designated cleaning day. Another new years resolution. I only made TWO. I am supposed to take one day a week to go through Lou's things, and everything else I ignored for two entire years. Lou left behind wayyyyyyy tooooooo many boxes of files, papers, receipts, records, photos, travel brochures, notes, and more. He was a pack rat! It will take me a year to get through it all. Each piece of paper needs to be reviewed. Identity theft and all that. The shredder is getting a real work out. So today, it all made me angry. Angry that I have to spend so darn much time at this. Angry that spending time on it makes me sad. Angry at the gazillions of details he took care of that created alot of stress for him, that I wish he had not had. Angry at how very hard he worked. Angry at the photos of all the great times we had. Angry that he had to suffer so. Angry to be shredding his life up. But I'm not angry at Lou. It's hard to get angry at someone who took copious notes of things to do on a trip, then put them in a daily itinerary for everyone. It's hard to get mad at someone who then made notes of every place we went, to remember for the NEXT trip, or to give to someone else. It's hard to get angry at the person who ran the condo board and personally answered all the notes, phone calls, and visits he got from his 700 constituents, and of course, kept copies of it all. It's hard to get angry at the man who saved all the little notes, pictures, and cards his sons gave him. Could never get angry at the son who wrote a ten page letter to the President of United Airlines when his dear elderly mother was mishandled on a cross country trip. Can't get angry at the man who made loans to friends in need. Can't get angry at the man who kept his golf scorecards. Get angry at the man who kept the Playbill from the first time we saw CATS in London in 1981? I think not. I'm just angry at everything ELSE.

Another First

2007-01-29T09:59:00.000-06:00

It was a fairy tale wedding, Saturday night. Could not have been more beautiful. Such a well matched couple. Their futures so bright before them. Everyone so happy. The bride was exquisite. Her father, so proud. I am glad I have sons. I am glad the tradition is that the father walks the bride down the aisle. We won't have to worry about that at least. Lou won't be there. He won't be there to see his sons get married. That hurts, deeply. How proud he would be, whenever that time comes. This was the first wedding I've attended since Lou died. It was hard. Parts of it were very hard for me. The vows. "For better or worse, in sickness and in health..." Sigh. Those vows are real. I took them very seriously. And I am proud of that. We had the "better", we had "health", so we take what comes with it. That's what a vow is, isn't it. No matter what. I remember our day so clearly. How sure I was. How happy I was. How in love I was. How long ago that was. So long ago.... I made it through the ceremony with my kleenex and waterproof mascara. The dinner was so lovely. I was seated with dear friends, thank you. That helped so much. Then, on to dancing. You all know I love to dance. I sat on the sidelines with my friends. We had dessert. We drank champagne. We checked out all the pretty young girls and their party dresses. And then, quite late, a girlfriend wanted to dance. And her husband did not. And onto the dance floor we went. And then, pretty soon, there were several of us out there, dancing up a storm. Girlfriends. Laughing and having a good old time. We danced a few numbers. And then, we drifted off, each our own ways, it was time to go. I made it through the night. And it was not so bad. It was not so bad at all. It was different. It was not the same. And I missed Lou. But I made it through. And I'm glad I went. I made it through another first. The first of many, I know.

Back to bed, again

2007-01-24T23:50:00.000-06:00

I'm back to my old habits I'm afraid. I started out the year so well, the trip and all, I thought maybe I had left my bad habits behind. But no. I am not strong enough. I'm not strong enough to get up and face the day. Oh I get up. But then I usually get back in bed, pull the covers over my head. I think my friends and office have had it with me as I usually show up late to everything because of this. I can't help it. This is the time, and place, that I feel closest to Lou. When he was sick, there came a time that I did not want to leave him alone in bed. So I stayed in bed with him until later in the morning, when we would get him up. And that was precious time. My favorite time with him. And I really miss it. So, now I dab Lou's cologne on his pillow, and I snuggle up with it. And I squeeze my eyes shut really really tight. And I can almost, ALMOST, feel him. Almost. So that is why I can't get up, and that is why I'm always late, and that is why the mornings are hard for me. I'm not doing a very good job keeping this new year's resolution. Maybe next year. Maybe.

UNLOCKED!

2007-01-23T17:14:00.000-06:00

FINALLY! I CAN POST AGAIN!!! For some strange, bizarre, unexplainable reason, the Google robots deemed my blog as possible SPAM (imagine THAT), and hence, I have been locked out from posting for the last almost two weeks now. I came THIS CLOSE to sending a letter to the owners of Google,as I was totally unable to get ANY response AT ALL from ANYONE within the Blogger universe. And I tried EVERYTHING. The worst part about the whole thing is that the automated email from the spam robot said if they did not hear from me my blog would be DELETED within a few weeks. IMAGINE THAT! DELETED into the cyber after life, how appropriate. This had me up at night worrying, I kid you not. I think I'd better figure out how to save all this. In the meantime, the entry below entitled "A Red Dress" was written a week or so ago and saved. That much, they allowed me to do. And, in case you are wondering, I did buy a black dress. It will have to do, for now.

A Red Dress

2007-01-16T07:05:00.000-06:00

I really like the color red. I particularly like WEARING red (note the profile pic). Red is a "feel good" color, and when I wear it, it is just about impossible not to feel good. Most women have to have a "little black dress" in their wardrobe. Not me. Never me. I've always had to have a little RED dress in my wardrobe. Black doesn't make me feel good. I wore navy to Lou's memorial. A dress I am sure I will never wear again. Anyway, over the years, I have had some great red dresses. Lou always loved me in red too. He hated it when I wore what he called "drabby" colors, the beige/taupe stuff. He liked me in deeper, vibrant colors. He was right, as he usually was. Anyway, I am on a mission to find a new dress to wear to a black tie wedding. A dear friend's son is getting married next weekend. I wasn't planning on going, these types of things are too difficult. But lots of our friends will be there, and I know it is going to be so lovely. Hopefully I can handle it. But back to the dress. It's been over two years, certainly, since I've been to anything fancy. And in those two years, I've somehow managed to "outgrow" most everything in my closet (it's something that automatically happens to caregivers it seems). I went shopping with my mom a few days ago while she was here. My 82 year old mom is a serial shopper. I used to be, but that is another thing that changed with caregiving, and it's for the better anyway. So we only made it to one store. Lucky for us, this particular store had alot of fancy dresses in stock, and many on sale. My mom is a serial sale shopper. I like a bargain too. I automatically gravitated to the red dresses. There were quite a few nice ones. A few chocolate browns, and one ok green one that Lou would have thought was drabby. For some strange reason, several of the dresses actually FIT me. The best one was red of course (and not on sale, natch). A lovely red dress, the kind that would make Lou's eyes twinkle, a red dress for dancing, for drinking champagne, for flirting, and for feeling good in. I got carried away. For a few moments, I guess I forgot that I am a widow, that I am going to this event alone, and that I probably won't be dancing at all. I was shopping for my old life. I was thinking how Lou would like the dress. I was thinking how he would light up when he saw it. I was thinking of how he would twirl me on the dance floor. My mom thought I should buy it. I didn't. "Lou would want you to have it", she said. She's right. In my old life, Lou would want me to have that dress. But not now. It wasn't right for now. Maybe someday, in a new life, a long long time from now. I can't imagine that life, but I hope it includes red dresses. By then, it won't fit. So, no red dress. Not now. Not THAT red dress for sure. Not the skinny straps, etc. My mom has gone back to Michigan. It's back to the drawing board. I hate shopping. I can see why everyone wears black, it's alot easier. Maybe I'll try it.