im-ok

I’m Okay

being okay 3I’ve had quite a few people ask me if I’m okay since my last few posts. Yes. Life is like that these days. Some are good. Some are better. Some I muddle through. Some just suck. I’m probably more honest than I should be. I just don’t how to be any other way. I never have. My emotions are raw. But exposed. I ride the waves. Happy, sad, angry, frustrated, lonely, empty, melancholy. I have come a long way. I have a long way to go. I am strong. I will get stronger. This is all part of the process. It takes time. There is no timetable. I cannot hurry. I will ride the coaster. I will take the highs with the lows, the ups with the downs. I will experience everything and know it is okay. I am okay. So when I have a bad day, it is just that. A bad day. Or a bad moment. I appreciate all of the people who touch my life. Your touches embrace me. But do not worry. I am okay.

being okay 4Everyone said, “Don’t make any major changes for a year.” I didn’t listen. I’m glad. I couldn’t be that stagnant. I couldn’t just sit. And wait. How boring. I needed to start moving. Explore. Discover. And that’s what I’ve been doing. Baby steps. They feel like giant leaps. One step forward, three steps back. Two steps forward, one step back. It’s all a process. And I’m living it. But I’m learning. And growing. And changing. It’s my only choice. I can accept the sadness, frustration, anger, emptiness, and lonely moments because I know it is bringing me to a better place. A new “better.” A place of peace, contentment.

being okay (1)I’d love to know what Gregger would do. How would he handle this? What if the situation were reversed? He’d bury himself in work. He’d have a place to go. Constantly surround himself with people. Maybe that’s a good thing. He wouldn’t have time to think. Be lonely. Be sad. I’m not sure. That’s my guess. I’m so different. I’m embracing the silence. The alone time. Learning about myself. Where I need to go. What I need to do. I don’t have a choice. I guess he wouldn’t either. So I’ll continue to take each day as it comes. The good, the bad, the better, the great. I’ll keep learning. Growing. I’ll be okay. But there will be sad moments. Frustrating moments. Angry moments. They will come. They will pass. And, again, I’ll be okay.being okay

 

 

letting go

Letting Go

If you let go a little, you will have a little peace. If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace.” ~Ajahn Chah

holding onI was reminded the other day of all the times in my life when I couldn’t let go. I was such a control freak. I thought if I controlled myself, my family, my life, situations, that things would turn out the way I planned. I thought control meant perfection. If I let go, all hell would break loose. If I let go, my life would be chaotic. If I let go, my world be disordered. I was never one of those cool moms who let their kids pick out their clothes. Or do their own hair. Clothes had to match. Hair had to be brushed. Styled. Neat. Shoes had to be clean. We had a toy room. They played. And then the toys were cleaned up. There was order. Beds were made. Dishes were always cleaned and put away. I did laundry. Every day. Clothes every day. Towels one day. Sheets another. Order.

letting go 3I wasn’t always that way. At least not as “ordered” and controlled. My room had clothes in total disarray. My closet was a MESS. My drawers were a disaster. I grew up with “neatness” so I think I rebelled for a while. And then the Gregger brought it back full circle. He was a “neatnik.” He loved order. He loved clean. So I learned to love it too. We lived by such routine. Up by the alarm. Morning workout. Breakfast with the kids (when they were school age). Drove them to school. Gregger headed to work and I headed home. Workout. Grocery. Clean. Pick up kids. Drove from school to activities and home again. Family dinner. Every night! Most important part of our routine. Thank goodness we NEVER gave this up. It was time to talk. Time to share. Time to fight. Time to laugh. Time to build memories. We waited for Gregger because this was OUR time. The MOST important FAMILY time. After dinner, the kids scattered for homework, social time, TV time, or bed. Gregger and I cleaned. We couldn’t leave a messy kitchen. It was a sign of disorder. Chaos. Lack of control. So we cleaned. And THEN we spent time with the kids. That was backward. They were doing homework, watching TV, getting ready for bed. What were we thinking? If we died tomorrow would anyone remember if we had a clean kitchen? If our kids had matching outfits or groomed hair? Would our kids remember a clean house or the time we spent with them? We needed to LET GO of what was NOT important and focus on what was.

I am not sure WHEN we had our “wake up” call. I’m not sure WHAT caused it or WHY. I just know something changed. I realized I could close doors and what I didn’t see didn’t matter. The equation was simple. More letting go = more peace, more happy household.  My big job was working on the Gregger. I was uptight, but he was wound tighter. I understood. He had a ton of responsibility. A business. A family. Sending his kids to private schools. Paying for activities. College in the future. Weighed on his soul. But slowly those coils unwound. They were little things. He left dishes in the sink. He came home at night, threw his briefcase on the counter and scattered papers across the kitchen counter. My nerves got edgy. I took deep breaths. I reeled it in. Not important. Let it go. Enjoy the moment. Talk. Be together. The mess didn’t matter.  

life is not perfectAs my kids grew, letting go became a daily lesson. I had to let go as my major role as mom. It was the hardest but most empowering choice I’ve made. Allow them to choose their paths. Allow them to choose their friends, their mates. Allow them to live their lives. As much as I wanted them to remain a HUGE part of ours, they had to go off on their journeys. This was hard. But letting go allowed them to grow. I wanted them to come home when they chose. I wanted them to be with us/me because it was their choice. Not an obligation. So I “let go” every day with the hope that my kids would always WANT to come home again. With the hope that home would always feel like a place of comfort and LOVE. I believe that letting go has given them that freedom. At least I hope so.  

I pushed for Gregger to “let go” when we were in Hawaii. He was struggling. He was being pulled in so many directions. Pressured to get work done. Wanting to be with his family. He knew where his heart was, but time constraints made his choice difficult. So we came second. Kind of. We were so “FIRST” that he worked that hard. If he had that choice to make again, I believe he would make a different one. He would say, “screw it.” This is my time. Family time. Precious time. Time we don’t get back. Ever. I deserve this. But he didn’t. I saw the stress in his eyes. I felt the struggle in his heart. If only he could have just “let go.” So our time was cut short. I felt cheated. Cheated for the years we wasted on inane things. Cheated for the years we will never have together. But I will let that go too. I cannot control what happened. I cannot change the past. I can be present, grateful, and appreciate the gifts that life has given me. And in that journey I will find peace.

As I finished writing this piece, I received my horoscope for the day. Life is just too strange: “Don’t stress yourself out trying to control things you can’t control. If you can’t control them (and you know what ‘them’ are), you can’t control them. So take a step back and then take a deep breath and then let go. You’ve done everything you can do (and you know it), so just enjoy the free time, if you can (and you can). Why do you always have to be doing something, anyhow? Some days it’s okay to just be.”

So for today, I will just BE.

plans 2

Rainy Days and Mondays

Rainy Days and Mondays

rain 2Feeling a bit melancholy on this rainy day Monday. I stare at the raindrops streaming from the skies and slip into a meditative state. My mind wanders. Memories drift in and out. I try to conjure a visible future. I’m stuck. I keep going backwards. All I can see is the past. Where I was. Where I still want to be. But I can’t go there anymore. I can visit. But I must move forward. I keep having flashes. Of Gregger. His goofy, but loving idiosyncrasies. I miss them most. But they make me smile. My sunshine on a rainy day.

 

  • his nightly call to me on his way home from work
  • his obsession with mail, getting to it ASAP when he walked in the door at night
  • dropping his clothes on the floor; shirt, socks, and underwear tied in a tidy ball
  • digging into chips and salsa EVERY night when he walked in the house
  • freezing his Crystal Light to icy perfection
  • making his special bagel with half butter, half peanut butter and jelly, perfectly spread to the edges
  • ice cream before bed (for years!)
  • driving back to check the garage door EVERY TIME we left the house
  • watching his morning routine (recumbent bike with sports page, coffee, shower, breakfast and out the door)
  • washing his shirts (Yes! I miss that) and timing them so there wasn’t a wrinkle
  • his deep breathing and raucous snores
  • his meticulous habit of using shoe trees to preserve the shape, prevent creases, and extend the life of his vast shoe collection
  • “sleep good, sweet dreams” (to me and the kids)
  • “I love you” before, after, and in between (the BEST)

rainGregger: Yesterday I needed to talk to you so badly. It was just one of those days. There wasn’t anyone else in my circle who could help. I needed you. You weren’t here. I’m having to deal with so many nonsensical things. Life things. Gregger things. But I’m learning. I want to scream out. Am I doing the right thing? Is this the way you want me to do it? UGH! I don’t want these responsibilities. But they are mine now. I will take ownership. I will handle them. You tried to teach me. I didn’t listen. I picked up bits and pieces. Enough along the way. I remember. I will make you proud.

The rain falls. I think of you. The days we snuggled. The days we did nothing. That didn’t happen often enough living in Arizona. I wish you were here. Today I am stuck. Tomorrow will be a new day. This is the way it goes. In, out, over, under, up, down, sideways, and back again. Life. It goes on. I just wish it wasn’t without you. Rain. Teardrops falling. I miss you. I will look for the rainbow and know you are smiling. It’s then that I will be smiling too.

rain 3

Holidays are Hard

Holidays are Hard

attitudeHolidays are hard. There just isn’t any easy way around it. I wake up. Be happy. Smile. Great attitude. It’s just another day. But something always feels different. Something always feels a little empty. People want to party. I’m not there yet. It’s not that I don’t like people. I do. But I don’t like going it alone. I should have Gregger with me. We should be celebrating together. I’m not ready. And that’s okay.

I started the day with a bang. Super workout. High energy. Happy people. And then I crashed. I was internalizing. Emotions running high. Thinking. Not knowing where to go or what to do with all the emotions. Confused. Wanting to be alone. Not wanting to be alone. At breakfast the music played. Really? Are you here? “Somewhere Over The Rainbow.” I choked back the tears. It had to be a message. I haven’t heard it for so long. Letting me know he was okay. Telling me I’m okay. It’s okay to enjoy this day of independence. I didn’t want it to stop playing. I strained my ears to hear the words. The melody. The music. Please keep playing. Don’t go away. But it did. The highlight of my day. He touched me. He was there with me. I was going to be okay.  attitude 2

Another holiday. Another first. Another day we would have spent just being. My day was quiet. But that’s okay. Tomorrow I’ll be ready for the noise.

attitude 1

Happy Fourth of July

Happy Fourth!

fourth 4Fourth of July. A time for traditions, picnics, parades, parties, fireworks, and flags. It sounds so unAmerican, but Gregger and I weren’t all rah-rah when it came to the fourth.  I’ve HATED fireworks ever since I was a kid. My family would pack up the car geared up for a night of beauty in the skies. While they blanketed beneath the stars, I was hiding in the car cowering with my ears covered. I would peek to see some of the pretty colors, but the NOISE…OUCH! I don’t think Gregger was a fan either. Fireworks were meant to be seen from far, far away! We rallied our American spirit for the kids and experienced the elaborate displays of color exploding in the sky for a few years. Then we made excuses. Parties at the house. Too late. Too much traffic. Watch in the backyard. Whatever. We just didn’t want to go anymore. The kids got busy. Tennis tournaments, travel, life. It became another day off for the Gregger. The store was closed. YEAH! He was 100% disconnected. We loved it. I loved it the most.

We had some really fun fourths. Maui. Fireworks over the Pacific. Aspen. A high-spirited fourth celebration with local residents and visitors from dawn til dark. A goofy parade, U.S. Airforce jet flyby, concerts, a kid’s bicycle rodeo, and a breathtaking fireworks display over Aspen Mountain capped off a magnificent day. We’d hang on the streets with coffee in hand and soak up the American spirit. It was contagious, joyous, and just plain old fun.  fireworks

As the kids moved away from home, it became our day. A day to sleep in a little bit later. For Gregger, that meant 6 am if we were lucky. He’d have a boatload of chores he “thought” he had to get done before the world was awake. Why should he sleep when things could get done? So even on holidays he was up and running with his routine. Drove me nuts! But I wasn’t going to change him. I finally just accepted. Let it be. This was not a battle worth fighting anymore. He was always going to win. Sometimes we’d just hang. Do nothing. Sit and drink coffee. Check emails. Facebook. Go to Starbucks. Sit and talk. Go for a walk. Too hot to walk? We’d hang at home and just be together. Happy. So rare. But so much fun. I’d give anything for one more of those “nothing” days.

fourthThe Fourth is a day of independence, celebrating the history, government and traditions of our great country. I believe this year has a greater significance with the victory that the Constitution guarantees a right to same-sex marriage. While I was unable to attend one of the weddings last year, Gregger was proud to be part of two very special marriages. These four people played a very significant role in both of our lives and still do today. I know Gregger and I share in our joy that this liberty can no longer be denied. As this decision impacts friends and family, there is no greater time than Independence Day to say, “Woo-hoo!”

 I will look to the skies this year. I will see stars. I may see fireworks. But most of all I will see Gregger. I can feel him embracing me with his love, warmth, and compassionate spirit. Happy Fourth of July!

fourth 2

10 months

10 Months

10 Months

me and greggerTen months. Another month has passed. Another 30 days. Another 720 hours, 43,200 minutes, 2,592,000 seconds. But who’s counting? Well, I guess I still am. I count every hour, minute, second that you are gone. I still ache inside. I still feel empty. I still feel the loneliness of you not being beside me. It gets different. But it doesn’t get better. Today I was sharing the concept of death. The difference between knowing you are dying, sharing the time with loved ones, and dying suddenly. There is no good way. No right way. No easy way. They all suck! But I feel I was gipped out of saying so many things I would have wanted to say. So I’m going to pretend you can hear me now.

DSC_0749Being married to you was the greatest gift in my life. I know life was not always easy. Certainly I was not easy. As a matter of fact, I was one tough cookie. You had to put up with all my sh-t. And you did. All my illnesses, my moods, my injuries. You supported me, you were there for me. That last year was rough. Back surgery. Epidurals, week after week. More surgery. You were traveling. You raced home to be by my side. I will never forget talking to you on the phone (thinking you were in New York) and suddenly you were by my bedside. Priceless, unforgettable, so purely Gregger. Last year was just one small piece of that puzzle. There were so many other times you rushed from the store to be with me. Held my hand. Kissed my cheek. Rubbed my back. You were there.

You were such a giver. A giver of your love, your soul, your support. I just always wanted to give back as much. I hope you felt it. Knew it. You worked your ass off to give us a beautiful life when all we wanted was you. But you LOVED what you did. Your passion was your success. And I was so incredibly proud of your achievements. You had an art. The best of the best. I was ALWAYS so proud to stand by your side. Proud to be “the better half.”

You were and always will be my very best friend. We didn’t start out that way. We were lovers first. But we learned to be friends. And we became the VERY, VERY best. We talked. We shared. We laughed. We cried. We knew what the other was thinking. We could be silent and be okay. Best friend. I miss you.

Scan 13Dad. The best. You loved being a kid. You played right along with them. You were a softie, but you knew how to be firm. A role model in every way. Kindness. Compassion. Understanding. Selfless. Loving. Humble. Your kids are so proud to be your legacy. And you would be so proud of all of them. They are your shining stars.

Ten months. It still sucks. It still hurts. But I grow stronger every day. I think you would be proud. I try to be a better person. I try to be the best. I try to bring out the Gregger. It’s part of the gift you gave me. I love you. You will always be with me where ever I go. Because you are in my heart.

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!

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