Memories are worth a thousand words

A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Words

me and greg (1)Some people collect expensive antiques or art; others collect stamps, coins, trading cards, or other miscellaneous items. I started collecting when my kids were born. I believe I was protesting my mom’s disregard for our “valuables.” She loved to clean out, get rid of the old. Her rule of thumb, “If you haven’t used it in a year, get rid of it!” Well, I hoarded quite a few collections in the growing years. The boys began with He-Man. At one time Castle Grayskull took over my family room invaded with the likes of Skeletor, Keldor, Prince Adam and their comrades. With two boys eighteen months apart, I couldn’t just buy one of everything. I had to buy in multiples. Then it was transformers, a variety of mini vehicles that “transformed” into robotic figures. The trends swooped in like a raging storm and as soon as the collection was filling itself, it was dead, kaput, washed up. So I was stockpiling a treasure trove of timeworn superheroes while the boys were moving on to bigger and better collections.

 transformers    “A camera is a SAVE button for the mind’s eye.”

Gregger got into the next game. Baseball cards. Now this was something he could wrap his head around. Of course it made sense to spend $$$ on signed cards that would be invaluable some day. Boxes and boxes of cards. Individual cards. Signed cards. Unsigned cards. Some framed for posterity, others stashed in notebooks or thrown haphazardly in boxes. This progressed into balls, jerseys, and other sports memorabilia from all arenas until we were overflowing. Collections of wishes fulfilled, some for the young, some for the old.  baseball cards

beaniesI was crazed with collection fever when Ashley was born. From stuffed animals to Madam Alexander dolls, Barbies, Care Bears, My Little Ponies, Ferbies (still in the box) and the ultimate Beanie Babies. If truth be told, I think the collections were more for me than Ashley! A long lost yearning. I would hunt down those Beanies like they were gold, paying top dollar for far too many. Gregger loved to raz, “You’re going to sell those to pay for her college education, right?” I don’t think they would have covered the cost of books for a semester.  Now thousands of beanies are neatly packed away in bins (yes, that is multiple!), plastic bags, and other storage units waiting to be passed down to the next generation. So much for priceless collections! Collections of wishes fulfilled, some for the young, some for the old.

“Life is like pictures. You can look back on the moments. But you can never recapture them.”

So while I was busy collecting useless toys, Gregger loved collecting boxes, wires and remotes. Lots of them. The guy couldn’t throw a box away. If it came in a box, he saved it. If it came with wires or remote, he stashed it for “just in case moments.” But when technology moves on, those “things” becomes extinct. Not in our house!  We have more empty boxes than junk! Boxes for computers, printers, phones, tvs and other electronics that are long gone. Half of the stores are out of business. We have wires with plugs that don’t go to ANYTHING and remotes that are ancient beyond recognition. So I gathered my courage, piled everything in a big garbage bag, said a silent prayer, and tossed it! Good riddance to good rubbish! This was one collection I could live without. Sorry Gregger!

pictures 4 (1)While my collective obsessions became a little more refined over the years, my collection of MEMORIES is the one I cherish most. While I attribute my brown hair, blue eyes, and shorter than desired height to my ancestors, I believe I inherited the “picture” gene from my mother. Never heard of it? It’s the uncontrollable urge to carry a camera everywhere. It’s never missing an occasion, a moment. It’s capturing EVERYTHING on film, disc, or video. It’s having those you’re photographing give you “the finger,” turn their backs, or walk away because they are so sick of your constant snapping. But it’s a collection of LIFETIME MOMENTS, MEMORIES that can never be relived again, except through photographs. Pictures not only capture experiences, but moods. They seize a sparkling smile or sullen scowl. They are pieces of a life puzzle, jigsawed together in captured moments. Photographs are everlasting. The edges may fray, curl and yellow, but the image is embedded for memories sake. Timeless. Priceless. Memories. Etched in our hearts. Etched in our minds.

“I was looking at the photographs and I started thinking that there was a time when these weren’t memories.”

I am so grateful for the gift of the “picture gene.” Especially today, especially in these moments. Photographs and memories are my lifeline to Gregger. Without them, memories could fade. With them, memories are ALIVE, colorful and bright. A picture is worth far more than a thousand words. It’s worth everything we shared together. Magic moments captured in time. Magic moments hung on walls, pasted in books, and embedded in clouds. These are the collections I will treasure forever. Priceless.

pictures (4)

 

 

The Wonder of Our Hair!

Scan 93Scan 2Growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, we were all about the hair. “Let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees. Give a home to the fleas, in our hair. A hive for the buzzing bees, a nest for birds, there ain’t no words. For the beauty, splendor, the wonder of our hair.” As our life changed, so did our hair. It created its own fairytale!

1974: Era of streakers, chokers, and Watergate. Gregger’s hair, best described as the brillo bushy-style, comb-over to the left, sideburns covered with wiry hair. Lip covered matching stache was classy! I wasn’t any better. I had a matching helmet head. Same comb-over to the left, hair covering my ears, and FROSTED! Not blond, not brown, but frosted with a touch of silver.

Scan 61976: Year of the tunic, Fonz jacket, Rocky and we got married! My hair had grown out into  a flippy-do style without much body. It was a mousy brown with a touch of blonde-streaked in. Gregger still had his bush helmet and stache. But I thought he was the best looking guy on the planet. And that green velvet tux with the frilly shirt was the ultimate! Not to mention my wedding dress!

Scan 38 (1)1979: Village People, jumpsuits, walkman, and ADAM was born!  Christmas morning Gregger decided it was time for the stache to go. I LOVED it! I didn’t know him stache-free. He was a whole new kind of handsome! His hair was thinning, much to his despair, and his forehead was growing wider with age. But he had the answer – BIGGER glasses!

1980’s: Fanny packs, Air Jordans, Nintendo, and the ultimate HAIR decade! More changes than I could count. From brown to blonde and back again. Straight to curly. As I was changing, Gregger was losing it and trying desperately to hold on. In all honesty, it was time for it to go! It was best described as the “fringe.” But he used his Pert shampoo and dried it daily with his old-fashioned brush dryer. I’d stand idly by wondering when the day would come that he would just give it all up! In the meantime, I was going through my own hair crisis. Holy crap! I had the super high bangs, glued with a can of spray; the curly perm that Adam called my “Lion Head;” and the Scan 10busby head. You name it, I had it! Scan 7

1990’s: Platform shoes, fanny packs, and “The Rachel.” Bring it on! I decided as Gregger was losing it I should start cutting. From back to shoulders to ears and total buzz – what the hell was I thinking? At one point I think Gregger’s hair was LONGER than mine! And I kept it that way for over 15 years! Gregger was either a great guy to let me do what I wanted or a schmuck for letting me walk around looking like crap! I thought I looked great, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt on that one! Needless to say, he was thrilled when I started to let my locks grow again! Scan 33

Scan 14 (1)

 2000’s:  Juicy Couture, rhinestones, and Uggs. This was a real time of change. It was the beginning of a new millennium. The internet, digital technology, texting, smartphones, and social networking were on the rise while the length of my hair was growing. Gregger’s was gradually disappearing. Literally. We finally convinced him it was time to buzz. No more Pert. No more hair dryers. Buzz. Simple. Maintenance free. And he loved it. So after all those painstaking years of trying to save the last remnants of hair on his head, he was finally free. And he looked AMAZING! His eyes twinkled. His smile shone brighter than before. And who the hell cared anyway? It was simply hair. It was the super guy inside that I loved. It was his heart. His soul. His compassion. His kindness. Lucky me. Bald was truly BEAUTIFUL!!!!

me and greg

there is always hope

There is Always Hope

hope 3“I’m strong, but sometimes I break.” Sunday I broke. Sunday sucked! There is no easy way to put it. I tried. I struggled all week long. I prepared myself for Father’s Day. I thought I would be okay. I made plans. I cancelled them. I decided to spend the day alone. It was a good decision. I needed the space. I needed the time. I needed to grieve. It was one of the toughest days I’ve gone through in almost 10 months. Why? I’m not really sure. I was sad for me. I was sad for Gregger. But, most of all, I was sad for my kids. I just couldn’t get over the hump. I cried a million tears. I cried on my way to OT (my happy place). I cried on my way home. I cried every time my phone rang. I cried walking Lucy. I cried listening to some of my favorite songs. Everything reminded me of Gregger. He was embracing me ALL day long. And I was REALLY missing him. My friends and family were AMAZING. I am so blessed to have such wonderful people in my circle. The love and support poured through my phone, social media, and the airwaves all day into the night. Thank you to everyone.I had a cheering squad to support my personal efforts. Throughout the day I was chanting, “I can do this. I can make it. I will get through this day. Keep on truckin’.” Minute by minute. Hour by hour. And I did. I was wiped out. Spent. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Day over.

hope 2I woke up this morning with a new sense of hope. Today is a new day. This is the way life will cycle. I accept that. But it’s been a good day. Strangers have reached out and touched my heart. They simply stopped to say hello. Old friends messaged with words of encouragement. New friends spent time chatting and sharing. Hope. A bottomless pool of emotional strength. A place to turn when the going gets tough. A place to see the future as a better place. It’s not hoping things will get better, but believing things will be better. Life will always present challenges. This was definitely my BIGGEST. But with a little hope each and every day, I’ll jump the hurdles when I cross them. Because I believe I can. The “firsts.” The heartaches. Just plain old missing Gregger. Hope. It makes me smile. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

happy fathers day

Happy Father’s Day Gregger!

dadFor the past several weeks, I have been inundated with Father’s Day ads, exhibits, and displays. Mugs, t-shirts, boxers, baskets, barbeque sets, and beer steins stock shelves beckoning buyers to honor husbands, fathers, and grandpas everywhere. I walk by and feel sad. Another first in the year of “firsts.” Father’s Day was one of the ONLY days we could force Gregger to TAKE instead of GIVE. It was OUR day. We got to shower him. We got to make him our center of attention. We LOVED it! He couldn’t argue. He just had to sit back and TAKE it! Believe me, it was NOT easy. He just hated being “it.” Gifts were impossible. What could you possibly buy the guy who (a) owned a clothing store with everything from underwear to tuxedoes (b) didn’t WANT anyone spending money on HIM and (c) returned most everything anyway? Once his cabinets and drawers were overflowing with #1 Dad coffee mugs, BEST DAD t-shirts, and “I Love You Dad” picture frames, we were at a loss. His favorite gift – spending the day with his family. No fighting. No hassles. No conflict. He wanted nothing more. That was it. Simple. Free. In the early years, we did brunch, bike rides, pool time. As the kids grew, we were busy with tennis tournaments, dance recitals, and social events. All good. Happy times. Scan 12

Father's Day pics 3It would have been the two of us (well, maybe three) this year for Father’s Day. But he would have been home.  That sounds strange, but for the past three years he was high in the skies traveling to Florence, Italy. It was the bi-annual event for Pitti Uomo, the largest international fashion fair for men’s clothing, where designers launch new collections and projects. Gregger loved attending Pitti. He loved Florence. He loved the camaraderie with his retail brothers. But he hated the timing. Even with our kids grown and “gone,” holidays were a big deal for us. I was the one who pushed him to go. I knew how much he loved being there. For three years, we argued. For three years, I won. That was miraculous. Looking back now I wish I had said, “yes” to joining him. But I didn’t. I stayed home. Alone. Why? I had been there, done that. I didn’t need to keep going back. He was busy. I was bored. This was my year to go. We always added something special. One year Venice. Another Tuscany. Another Lake Como. We hadn’t decided yet. It was too far out. Plenty of time to plan. Well, maybe not.

IMG_0398So Father’s Day is very different this year. I’m lucky to have MY 92-year dad. Amazing! Sharp as a tack. Witty. Smart. Remarkable! Gregger loved my dad. They had such a beautiful rapport. Conversation. Laughter. More conversation. More laughter. I cherished those moments. My two favorite guys. The one who raised me and the one who helped me grow.

Father's Day pics 2I know my kids are missing their dad this year. He was truly the BEST. A mentor. A friend. He listened. He cared. He loved unconditionally. He was there. But we are all better people because he showed us the way. Happy Father’s Day Gregger!  I miss you every day! And I will love you forever!

Fathers-Day-Quotes-2

the Playoffs

The Playoffs

suns 3 (1)Sports RULED in our house! Three boys and there was sure to be some kind of game going on. Or ESPN. Over and over again and again. Somebody was rooting for or against something, someone. Gregger was right at the head of the pack. Sports gave Gregger a break. He stopped working. He stopped thinking. He just enjoyed. Or stressed over who was winning/losing. He was so devoted to his teams, you’d think he had a stake in them. Coming from a small town in Iowa, he had to reach outside of his city to find his favs. The Suns, Cardinals (AZ and St. Louis), Diamondbacks, Chiefs, Royals made up his elite crew. He was a true blue fan. He had that midwest devotion and stuck hard and firm to his teams.  If he loved you, awesome! If not, watch out! Even Gregger, the nicest guy on the planet, could be a hater in sports! I didn’t quite grasp the concept of the love/hate relationship with teams, but the passion exploded. He was funny. One dissed player could blow his fanfare for the whole team. One awesome dude and count him in.

While I rallied to watch or attend sporting events with Gregger, my favorite was basketball. And playoff time was the BEST! This was always an exciting time in our house. Of course, we LOVED when the Suns were in, but in or out, we made playoffs a part of our TV viewing. I was so hooked that I even watched alone. We’d text back and forth. High five signs. Claps. Thumbs up or down. It was something silly we shared together, but always brought joy, laughter, and smiles.  suns game

The season came to a spectacular end Tuesday night. I watched alone. I missed Gregger for so many reasons. The Suns weren’t playing. But he would have been so thrilled for his pal, Alvin Gentry, assistant coach for the Golden State Warriors. It was a hard fought battle between LeBron and Stephen, two superstars, two MVP’s who showed grit, sportsmanship, and unbelievable talent. But the Warriors killed it in the end. A six game series. On Cleveland’s home court. I missed Gregger’s screams. I missed his fist bumps. I missed his high fives as the score bounced back and forth. I missed hearing him talk about Alvin’s clothes. I missed having him next to me. He just would have been so damn excited for that team. 40 years they waited for a championship. And his friend was there to be a part of it all. He helped make it happen. Gregger just would have been beaming. I missed seeing that smile. So in the end, when the flares burst, the confetti streamed down, the tears trickled down my cheeks. These are the moments that make me sad. He should be here to see this. But he’s not. So I celebrated for him. I cheered. I clapped. I fist bumped the air. And I smiled for the glory of a team who deserved to win. GSW finals

Maybe it all sounds silly. But sports was part of our life. Season to season. Football to baseball, tennis, basketball and right back into football season. It never stopped. I want to believe Gregger was cheering those Warriors onto victory. He had a birds-eye view into those stadiums and was fist bumping his buddies in heaven.

basketball quote

 

ellen degeneres show

My Girl

IMG_1488“I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May. I guess you’d say, what could make me feel this way?” Ellen! Ellen! “Talkin’ ’bout my girl!”

Ellen who? Ellen DeGeneres of course! The epitome of  hope, joy, and optimism, Ellen enters millions of homes each day through the miracle of electronics. She dances her way into living rooms and hearts, including mine. I have been a fan for 12 years now, but this year has brought a whole new dimension. Even when I’m having the crappiest of days, I turn on Ellen, and I am overcome with joy. She makes me smile, laugh, cry. She makes me forget. For one hour. Jokes, music, celebrities, and the most inspiring human interest stories from all over the world touch my heart. Stories told by children, students, teachers, families, and so many others who promote the power of positivity when facing tremendous tragedy, loss, and adversity. It reminds me. It comforts me. My heart flutters when Ellen raises the light for these people who have lost hope. Once again, it makes me recognize my blessings.

ellen degeneres“Ellen” was part of my bucket list. Going to the Ellen show was BIG on my list. Thinking I would ever make it there was way at the bottom. But leave it to Gregger. He always knew how to make things happen! It was our 37th anniversary. He handed me a manila envelope. This was different from the small silver wrapped boxes I usually received.  Not that I expected it, but over the years he had developed a reputation as one of the BEST in the gift department. So what could possibly be inside a manila envelope? Paper? That’s the 1st anniversary.  This was our 37th! But I was thrilled to get THIS paper. Inside was a picture of “My Girl, Ellen” with the words: “Happy 37th Aniversary! Time to Get your Dance on!” Gregger was taking me to L.A. with V.I.P. tickets to the show! No, Way! This was beyond awesome! A dream come true! And Gregger was going with ME! The icing on the cake. Four tickets! Ashley and Tyler were meeting us to join the anniversary celebration! Wow!

IMG_1489We flew to L.A. on Sunday. Our wonderful chauffeurs, Ashley and Tyler, greeted us at the airport, and we were off and running. We spent an incredible day playing tourists. Brunch at Urth Cafe, afternoon in Malibu, happy hour at The Ivy, dinner at Ocean Club! Absolute perfection! Good times. Fun times. Family times. Monday morning we were pumped for “our girl.” Filling a few hours we started off at Nate and Al’s, walked Rodeo Drive and then headed out to Burbank. Even with V.I.P. tickets we wanted to get there early. It was a full on adventure. We had to take pics, shop for Ellen gear, and soak it all in.

IMG_1494It was a good long wait, but who cared? We were at the ELLEN SHOW! We were ready to get our dance on! Even Gregger was feeling it. A little pushing and shoving and we made our way to the front. Truly the front. Front row center! Up close and personal with “my girl.” She came dancing through the aisles, spotted Ashley and danced face to face with her! What a moment! Gregger was rockin’ it. We were rockin’ it. You just couldn’t help but laugh, smile, sing along, and DANCE! Selma Hayek, Kellan Lutz, Luke Bryan, and two high school boys with a heartwarming and inspiring story. But it was Ellen who continued to warm the room. Her genuine charm. Her sincerity. Her kindness. Her generosity. It swept over the room like a breath of fresh air. IMG_1487

I was blessed with Gregger in my life for almost 40 years. I am blessed now. Ellen reminds me that there is always someone suffering from something greater. If they can get through a day with smiles, so can I. She ends every show with the most beautiful message: “Be Kind To One Another.” What greater message to send to the world. Spread it. Share it. This was Gregger’s legacy. Kindness. Compassion. Goodness. If I can keep this going, it will be all the success I will ever need. I can be something better, do something better. It is hope. It is power. It is joy.

IMG_1492

orange theory fitness

Falling in Love Again…Not with a Who, but a What!

beach 2 (1)I have fallen in love again. Not with a who, but a what! San Diego. I have truly fallen in love with this city. The beauty, the charm, the weather, the people! June 11th marked my one-month anniversary. I may have given some the impression that I was unhappy, melancholy, lonely. No. I LOVE it here. As I’ve said before,”Some days just really SUCK! But bad days don’t last forever. They make the good ones seem GREAT!” For every bad day, I have six good ones. I’d say that’s a winning record, so I’ll keep going in that direction. I’ve met some wackos, but I’ve met some amazing people. Nice people. Kind people. Generous people. The kind of people who put their hands and hearts out for strangers and welcome them to a new city.

strength 2Truth be told, I don’t miss the scorching temps of Arizona summer heat! Don’t get me wrong. I love Phoenix/Scottsdale! We fell in love in Tempe, raised a family in Scottsdale, and grew a business in Phoenix. What is there not to love? 40 years of awesomeness! But without Gregger, it was lonely. People ask me, “Why San Diego?” It must be because my kids live here. NO! Actually, we have yet to spend a day together. Ashley landed a new job and is slammed. They have their own lives. I have to make my own too.

treadmillI was lucky enough to walk back into a place I have always called “home.” It’s a place that would be “home” in any city, but here, it has made my life easy. There’s no better way to kick start my mornings. PO-WER WORK-OUT! The BEST workout in the U-S of A! No, I don’t work for the company, nor do I get paid for promotions. I simply LOVE the way this place embraces every person who walks in their doors. It’s like hanging with BEST friends on a daily basis. From desk to trainers to work-out cronies. I felt welcome from day one over 3 1/2 years ago, and I feel just as welcome today. I knew when I moved to San Diego that this would be my base. A welcoming place. A social place. A friendly place. I knew I could walk in the doors and be okay with all the other crap going on in my life. No one knew my story. I could choose to tell or not to tell. I could just be me. Whatever “me” I chose to be. The first few days I stood with my head low, waiting for class to start. Walls were up. I was closed off. But slowly those walls broke down, and in a matter of days I was meeting the kindest people. Loving, good-hearted, welcoming people. It’s just that kind of place.

weightsToday, as any other day, I couldn’t wait to get to my “happy place.” I couldn’t wait to get my butt kicked. Sweat. Feel good. I was rockin’ it on the treadmill. Run to row. Squat presses and back again. Killer workout. And then the music changed. “Happy.” Gregger’s song. I was pumping it out and suddenly my heart pounded out of my chest. Tears welled up in my eyes. I was smiling and tearing all at once. My heart was beating. I could feel him pushing me. And I could see his smile. That’s the Gregger song. That’s the “Happy” song. Infectious happiness that makes you smile. Ultimate Gregger. Reminding me to be happy, smile, and keep on pushing. It was one of those weird moments. But they happen. They will always happen. But I was in my happy place. Hearing my “happy” song.

OTF-LogoSo I’ll continue to go back to my happy place. And what is this place? ORANGETHEORY FITNESS!  I’ll get my butt kicked. I’ll sweat. But I’ll smile. Feel good. OT is about one step at a time. One minute, 30 seconds. The base, the push, the all-out. LIFE. On my tough days, I use the OT approach. Bad day? Dig deep for one minute, one hour, one day, one week. Push through, all out effort and I’m stronger the next time I get knocked on my butt. Focus on what’s in front of me. The moment. The now. Every day I grow a little stronger, physically and emotionally. More self-confident. More powerful. More in control of my life. More in control of “me.” More patient. I meet new people. But more than that, I leave feeling good from the inside out. What a great way to start the day! After that, it’s all uphill!

So thanks, San Diego. Thanks, OT. Thanks for helping me fall in love again. Not with a who, but a WHAT! It’s a start and it feels darn good!

strength

At Least We Had Paris

At Least We Had Paris

DSC_0321I am so sad. I just read that Paris is not only banishing the tradition of “Love Locks” on the famed Pont des Arts, but removing the ones already blanketing the bridge. Gregger and I left our mark there September 2013. We promised to go back one day. We marked the spot. We took pictures. We knew just where our love lock, inscribed with our initials, remained, bearing our eternal love for one another.  DSC_0322

Apparently the locks have become a safety hazard. City hall workers will begin removing the locks to prevent the bridge from caving. I get that. But it’s like another piece of our hearts is being tossed away. Paris was our last “alone” trip together. We dreamed about that trip for so long. It was a HUGE deal for Gregger to take time off in the fall. New, exciting merchandise. Clients back in town after a long, hot summer. Push time. We vacationed in July or August when it was quiet. Gregger never wanted to miss anything or anybody. After 40 years together, I got it. So this was something special. Not just Paris, but Gregger in September!

Two weeks before our grand trip, I blew out my back. BAD! I couldn’t walk. There was no way in hell I was canceling this trip. Gregger thought we should postpone, but I was not giving up this opportunity. I chose to get poked, prodded and numbed with an epidural. It wasn’t perfect, but I was ready to rock and roll. I endured a thirteen-hour plane ride. I passed the first test. And then we were off and running. Using Fodor’s guide to Paris, we mapped out our daily plan. With only four days to cover this magnificent city, we had to be efficient.  And efficient we were. From the moment we landed, we trekked our way through the city, savoring every awesome sight. It was an amazing trip jam-packed with so many incredible memories. Paris was everything we dreamed it would be and more. We not only soaked up every ounce of history and culture, but treasured the romantic ambiance. It was exhilarating, breathtaking, and awe-inspiring!

DSC_0493We were staying smack in the middle of the Champs-Elysees, a few paces from the Arc de Triomphe. Stepping onto our balcony we could circle around to have a birds-eye view of the Eiffel Tower and Sacred Heart Basilica of Montmartre in one swoop. Gregger enjoyed the chill morning air with his Starbucks in hand (yes, Starbucks!) as I readied for the day. Paris was good for him. He chilled. It was good for us. We were grateful. Grateful for each other. Grateful for time. We traipsed our way from Place de la Concorde to Notre Dame Cathedral, crossing the Pont Saint-Louis bridge to sip wine on the sublime streets of Ile Saint-Louis. We got up close and personal with Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, and masterpieces by the likes of Monet, Van Gogh, Degas, and Gaugin. Magical. Dreamy. Unreal. We climbed to the top of the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe. Gregger tried to stop me. He didn’t think my back could take it. Nothing could stop me. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Let’s go. So go we did. We took a sunset cruise on the Seine. Magnificent. Breathtaking. The city of lights. We hunted the Marais for hours, searching for the ultimate falafel at L’As Du Fallafel. Our feet were numb and blistered, but Gregger got his falafel – belly full, happy man. Museums, gardens, palaces, and more – endless moments marking memories for a lifetime.DSC_0354

DSC_0352Every afternoon at 3 we stopped at an outdoor cafe. Our time. Quiet time. Gregger indulged in French onion soup, a beer. I delighted in berries, some French wine. One afternoon we struck up a conversation with our neighboring table. We exchanged pleasantries. Where are you from? What do you do? It turned out their brother-in-law lived a few streets away from us in Scottsdale and their nephew went to the same high school as Ashley! Of course, Gregger knew where they lived, people who lived by them, yada, yada, yada. The conversation was crazy. They were coming to Scottsdale. They would stop in the store and shop. And here we were on the streets of Paris. Crazy! But so much fun. Life. All part of the journey.

So Paris was full of beautiful memories. Our last special trip together. Before Hawaii. Our lock is still there, along with nearly one million others. I believe our solid love will ALWAYS be there. That can never be taken away. So while it’s sad the locks are coming down, “LOVE is everlasting; infinite. It has no boundaries and no barriers. Love, is just like the universe, forever.”  DSC_0451

A San Diego State of Mind

A San Diego State of Mind

IMG_1389After spending a low-key weekend chilling by the pool, I had a jillion emotions running through me. I was trying to relax, but my insides were stirring like an erupting volcano. I felt guilty. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be living like I’m on vacation. Alone. It wasn’t right. I have been in San Diego for almost a month now. I’ve been pretending it’s okay. Sometimes it is. I’ve met some wonderful people. But there is a huge empty hole. It’s just weird. There is no other way to describe it. It comes and goes in waves. One minute life seems almost normal. Well, a “new” normal. The next, it’s not. I try to establish a routine. I rise and shine at the same time each morn. I walk Lucy. I savor my cup of joe, scan email, scour social media. I workout. People! Social time. Talking. For a few minutes before class. And then it’s over. Time to sweat. And then people are on their way. Onto their lives. Busy. Kids. Husbands. Work.  I stop at the store for nothing better to do. Sprouts, Vons, Walgreens. Anywhere. It’s a time excuse. I must need SOMETHING. Back home. Lucy greets me with such unconditional love. Wet kisses, yaps, and more kisses. We walk, she pees, we go home. Now, what? It’s only noon. What do we do to fill our day?  Some days we go to Starbucks. I sit and write. She snuggles under the table on her favorite Santa hat, gnawing on a bone, and watches people.

Dogs Talking about Dog ParkAfternoons. We discovered the dog park. What a fun adventure. Not so much for me. Fun for Lucy. I watch. I smile. I find joy. She prances. She plays. She comes back to see where I am. Then she’s off again. All the dogs are bigger than her. She doesn’t care. She thinks she’s bigger than they are. I share small talk with some of the dog owners. What kind of dog is that? A teacup yorkie. What kind is yours? How old is she? Just 11 months. Oh,  she’s still a puppy. Yes, but she’ll stay that small. The banter is always the same. And then they move on.

CHANGE QUOTEThis weekend I was at the pool for two days. I thought it might be an opportunity to meet people in the complex. Interesting. I saw some of the same people. Silence. Eyes averted. Okay. I get it. No conversation. Except for one older woman. Maybe that is being a bit judgemental. She was probably my age. Who knows? She sat on the edge of the pool, dangling her toes. I went to dip. She started chatting. Actually complaining, whining. “The pool is too cold. They never warm it. I’ve been living here for 4 years. They say it’s going to be 80 degrees and this is no 80 degrees. I’ve complained for 4 years and they do nothing. I tell other people to complain, but no one complains. My husband complains, but they do nothing.” Okay. Nice conversation. It gets better. She tells me they moved because they lost their beautiful house. Her husband screwed up. He lost everything. She was mad at him. At some point, it comes up in the convo that I’m new in the area. Why? I recently lost my husband and I’m looking to make a move. “I almost lost my husband. He almost died. But he didn’t. I don’t know why. But he didn’t. He lived.” Okay. You are lucky. “Well. Sometimes. I realized he does a lot of things around the house. And sometimes it’s really quiet when he’s not there.” By that point, I wanted to walk away but was trying to be polite. I quietly mentioned that I just wished my hubby was there to be with me. We were best friends and spent a lot of time together. She didn’t get it. She just rambled on about her sister and her husband. Her sister couldn’t wait to be alone. Lovely! Just the words a widow is longing to hear. My phone started buzzing. Saved by the bell!

life (1)So as I lay on my lounge, trying to relax in the sunshine, I felt empty. I wanted Gregger to be there. I shouldn’t be in this place alone. But I don’t want to be home either. So it’s limbo land. It was just one of those days. Tomorrow will be better. I’ll meet different people. I’ll have better conversations. I’ll fill the void. But I can’t help thinking that WE should be here, not just ME. I’ll get over that hurdle too. It’s just a little bump in the road before I’m back on smooth ground.

 

Why He Loved His Lucy

Why He Loved His Lucy

lucyFor 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. lucy 3

  • 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!”

lucy 2