88

It hurts to smile, but not in the way you're thinking.  My cheeks are sore because happiness has entered my life.  Not just distraction, not just an event to keep my mind occupied, to forget the happiness we shared, to temporarily fill the void.  Actual excitement, to experience new things like stick races in the stream.  I have a purpose again, not just to take care of our daughter, a purpose in my life, I'm contributing.  I looked through your posts and so many of your poems, the beauty and feeling is still there and will never go away.  I find comfort that they will alway be there and I can share in my new life.  Two years ago a friend suggested I write stories here to help remember the good, I started once upon a time, but decided to use this forum to talk to you and express what I could, to let out what only I could share with you.  I want to share my stories and remember the good, my soul mate that left this earth, is it possible that can happen twice in a life time?  I suppose anything in this universe is possible. 

88th birthday

You knew well before me.  We met at ages 23 & 24, me always teasing you as older, but I had to keep my mouth shut the last three months of the year.  For the last three months of each year since 1998 you were not old because I was not old.  However, once January rolled around you of course were old and I still was not.  We met in August at Friedrichs World Coffee on University.  You were with another, she in fact introduced us. We became fast friends, discovered we had so much in common.  We shared very similar music tastes, looking at my CD collection there were so many comments and expressions of delight.  "I have that one, I love Enya, that's a great Tracy Chapman song . . ."   When your eyes found my beloved John Denver Collection no so much excitement, the polite smile and twinkle in your eye because you still found me amazing.

In that apartment on the east side I remember you sitting in that orange velour chair that rocked and swiveled and me across the tiny living room on the love seat.  We talked for hours.  Asking all kinds of questions, sharing all kinds of stories.  I remember your biggest fear as a 24 year old, it was to be alone.  I distinctly remember you saying you did not fear death, but did not want to be alone in life.  As I sit here remembering that conversation that very late night on the east side of Des Moines I wonder if part of me never ever forgot that fear of yours and if that's why I made sure you were never  alone during the last weeks of your life.  I was not able to stay as I so wanted to, to spend the nights in the chair next to your bed.  I was only able to do that once, to take care of you as best I could.  Your princess stayed home with family, but that proved to be too much for our little 8 year old.  I had to choose her well being over staying with you.  The first of so many difficult decisions.  I'm channelling Senor Marias, I digress.

Des Moines, you and I became friends.  You knew well before I did that it would become more than friendship.  The relationship you were in was not good and you felt so very mistreated, the coloring of your skin was even a shade of gray, a shade of unhappiness.  You were on the brink of leaving, trying to find the courage and strength.  You said you found hope with me, that life could be so wonderful & you wanted that with me.  I felt just horrible because you were ending something & I felt responsible.  You assured me it was not my doing and the mere hope that some day we would be together is what gave you courage to end the hurtful relationship.  I was not ready to be more than just friends, I felt this horrid guilt and even tried to stay away.  I couldn't though because you were my friend & hurting, trying to get out of a bad situation.  I was there, I listened, I cared, I was your friend. 

You worried about me going home at night because I lived in a rough neighborhood.  The first snow fall, the first time I ever drove in snow you came all the way to my place of work on the east side and followed me home to make sure I got there safe.  You always asked me to call when I got home, a time before mobile phones, just to make sure I got home safe.  You cared for me.  Eventually you moved to my apartment complex, just down the hall, closer and closer we became. 

You wanted to be more than just friends, I just wasn't ready and didn't know if it was right.  You said you would wait, no matter how long it took, you'd still wait even if it was your 88th birthday.  You knew, I don't know how you knew, but you did.  I remember one night we had dinner at my apartment and I actually baked a cake, I even frosted it.  It was our dessert after a roasted chicken from the grocery store.  I bought numbered birthday candles, two candles lit on the cake 88.  We started dating and became a couple.  I suppose the rest is history; so many more stories to share and tell.  See I didn't forget, the little jokes and teases will come back to me.  I like this, remembering the happy past and living again in the present, not just existing to survive.   As someone told me, I will always love you, but I'm keeping my promise. 

take care