Why He Loved His Lucy

For years, Gregger called me his “Lucy.”  While I was no blazing redhead, I certainly matched her wacky naiveté. I don’t think I always had my head in the clouds. I want to believe I had a pretty good head on my shoulders. As a first born I was organized to a fault, obsessively disciplined, and crazy cautious. I was focused, determined, had my eye on the ball. I was in control and fairly self-controlled (although my kids might beg to differ on that one!). I think all hell broke loose when my three kids entered three different schools with multiple activities. Maybe juggling all those school, sports, dance, and social events juggled a few of my brain cells. I’m not sure. But somewhere in those years I got a little loopy.

Around the same time frame, I developed a severe “I Love Lucy” obsession. I’m not sure why or where, but I LOVED LUCY! I watched every rerun, over and over. I’d wake up early in the morning or stay up late at night to catch my favorite episodes on Nick at Nite or Hallmark. I collected every piece of memorabilia from cookie jars, dolls, coffee mugs, and lamps to coasters, magnets, and one of the ugliest purses you’ve ever seen! Holidays were great for my kids. Get mom something with LUCY! So my collection grew until I had no room left for LUCY in my life. Now Lucy is neatly tucked away under bathroom cabinets, in hallway closets, and, as unfortunate as it sounds, buried in the garage. I still love LUCY, but my obsession is a bit more grounded. As much as I hate to admit it, I still watch reruns every morning at 5:00 am. She makes me smile. She makes me laugh. She reminds me of the lighter side of life. And she reminds me of the great love between husband, wife, and friends.

I was Gregger’s kooky sidekick. His Lucy. He responded to my quirky behavior with an emphatic “L-U-C-Y! You got some ‘splainin’ to do!” And most of the time I did. It was his way of diverting anger. I could deal with that. And most of the time I had some “splainin” to do. 

• Before the days of debit cards, I wrote checks everywhere. We didn’t adopt the “card” for a long time. Gregger was a cash and carry kind of guy. He forgot to give me cash one day, so I carried the checkbook with me, wrote a check for the groceries and came home. Later that night he was preparing to pay bills and asked for the checkbook. I knew I had used it at the grocery store that day. I remembered carrying it home. I thought it was in my purse. Nope. I looked in the car. Nope. I searched every grocery bag. I went so far as to dig through the trash. UGH! I knew I had that damn checkbook! So while I was searching and searching, Gregger was screaming…L-U-C-Y!!!! You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do!!! And I certainly did! He was not a happy camper. I decided to start dinner and recommence my search after filling everyone’s stomachs. As I went to the outside freezer to grab something, sitting on the shelf was my CHECKBOOK! I ran into the house, checkbook in hand, screaming, “I told you so.” Why not put the checkbook in the freezer? Isn’t that where everyone keeps it? Well, I didn’t really know how to “splain” that one, but at least it was resolved.
• The next time I experienced a “Lucy” I was alone. It was a beautiful day in Scottsdale. I was driving with my top down, sunglasses on, hair flying in the wind, headed out for some basic errands. First stop – the bank. It was a quick run-in so I popped out of my car, did what I had to do, and was back in a flash. Checking for lipstick on the teeth or something else amiss, I pulled down my visor mirror. I was horrified to see that I had walked into the bank with my sunglasses on (that’s not a  problem), with ONE LENS IN and ONE LENS completely MISSING!!! I had no idea I was walking around like that! Really? How could I not know! I took a selfie, sent it to Gregger and gave him a good laugh for the day!
• I must have a problem with sunglasses because my major LUCY occurred at Starbucks one afternoon. I was having coffee with a dear friend and excused myself to use the bathroom. I hooked my sunglasses onto my shirt, went inside, “did” what I needed to do, and came back outside. I was horrified to discover my sunglasses were gone! Did I leave them on the table? Did they drop in the bathroom? These were brand new sunglasses and NOT the kind that I needed to lose! I ran back to the bathroom. I searched around the toilet, in the toilet, under the toilet, in the trash, everywhere. The sunglasses were gone, gone, gone! I went to the counter. I thought for sure someone had turned them in. No. I went back outside. I searched the ground. I was literally shaking. I asked the girl who had used the bathroom right after me if she had seen any glasses. She looked at me like I was nuts! I thought maybe she took them! I was angry. What the heck? Sunglasses don’t just disappear! I called Gregger. I told him I thought someone took my glasses. I was really reaching at that point. What should I do? Breathe. Calm down. They are just glasses. About 10 minutes later, I walked back inside to check with the manager again. I walked back to the restroom to do a once over. The bathroom was closed. Something was wrong. It was backed up. The manager was in there working on it. And guess what he found? MY SUNGLASSES! DOWN the toilet! They had fallen off my shirt, into the toilet. I had FLUSHED them! OMG! Embarrassing to the max! The ultimate of LUCYS!!! I certainly had some “splainin” to do! I think Gregger was rolling on the floor with laughter when I called him. His L–U–C–Y could have been heard across the country and rightly so! It took me a while to show my face at that Starbucks again. I’m sure they had a good laugh themselves! L-U-C-Y topped herself on that one!
• About a week or so after Gregger died and we were settling back at home (well, as much as we could), I was pulling out of the garage. I hate parking in the smaller third car parking space but for one reason or another I had been moved into that space. Fully equipped with backup camera, beepers, lights, and everything that could prevent me from running into any walls or people, I slowly backed up. Swerving to the left I heard an unbearable CRUNCH, CRACKLE, CRUNCH and I literally screamed at the top of my lungs! This could not be happening. I had somehow jammed the front into the side of the garage so perfectly as to pull it completely to the ground! I dropped to my knees in tears. I was screaming to Gregger. Why? How could I be so stupid? I had pulled out of here for 20 years and never done anything so stupid. And then I heard his voice. “L-U-C-Y…you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do!” I actually started laughing. I realized it was just a car. It could be fixed. I would get it back. It was so unimportant in the scheme of things. Let it go. And it was easy to ‘splain.’ I was distracted. I was thinking about Gregger. I had my head in the clouds. I was missing him. He would tell me it’s ok. So I had to let it go and let it be ok.

I loved being Gregger’s Lucy. If I was a little wacky, I’d rather be wacky with him. He got me. And I’m sure he’s up there saying, “Lucy…you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do!”