Difference Between Depression And Jubilation II

On the last day of vacation, clearing standby a non-stop flight home half an hour after being told that the time for your original one stop flight had been moved up 25 minutes, you were late, all the flights home that night were sold out and you should start looking for a hotel.

Two aisle seats across from each other and a good movie on the plane are just icing on the cake. (OK.OK.OK. The movie was The Blind Side and it was heart warming. I said good, not best film ever good).

Difference Between Depression And Jubilation

One hit. Especially an opposite field double.

College Baseball. Love it.

Nothing Is Over Until We Decide It Is

This is what Mother Nature and her naturettes said on Saturday March 20, 2010.

The. headlines and the people of Chi-town were celebrating the official arrival of Spring — a bit too early. Mother Nature wanted to remind us of two things. First, that the vernal equinox, the start of Spring, does not officially occur when until 12:32 pm CDT. And, more importantly that Winter ends when she says it ends.

Friday, sunny with a high of 68 degrees. Saturday morning, foggy, 31 degrees and an inch, or two, of snow has fallen.

Apparently Mother Nature saw Animal House.

Enjoy either a short or long version. I recommend the long.

Two Weeks Is Too Long

My wife went on a business trip to Italy on a Wednesday and came back three Thursdays later. I had left on one of my own the day before. We did not really see each other after Monday night. (O.K. I snuck in a kiss Tuesday morning before I left. That hardly counts.) We were apart for 16 days.

For the next seven days I went from Chicago to Kingsport to Orland to St. Louis with a 34 hour stop in Chicago and on to a day and one half in NY. She flew to Italy and over the next two weeks visited close to a dozen different cities.

We have been away from each other for a week, maybe 8 days at a time. I cannot remember a period in the 15 years we have been married that we have been apart for over two weeks.

Before she left it did not occur to me that I would miss her much. Yes, I love her and like to have her around. But even when we are in the same city we are often two ships passing in the night. I get up and leave the house early. We both work during the day. I come home late from work most nights but she comes home later many night. She has meetings for the various organizations she volunteers for or occasionally will have a tennis night or meet a friend for dinner. On those nights I am probably asleep before she walks in the door.

On top of that, much of the time she would be gone so would I. Even with the 7 hour time difference, we would find time to talk or email. Lastly, I would have one weekend as a “wild” bachelor weekend before she came back. That was something to look forward to. The two weeks would go fast. Or so I thought.

And yet… (pretend there is soft romantic music playing in the background).

I’ve grown accustomed to her face…no that has been used already. Yet actually that works best.

The first weekend, the one in the middle of my travels, I could have used a hug or three and a few kind words. When I returned Monday night and every night there after the house seemed empty. While she is a fabulous cook, I do not need someone to cook or clean for me. I was single for a long time and am quite self-sufficient. But I need a companion, someone to share with and someone to love. She just wasn’t there.

As it turns out we only spoke three times while she was gone. Not enough. I was happy to take a Thursday afternoon off to pick her up at the airport. It was great to have her back…sort of.

Mostly unfortunately for her, but also a little for me, she came back with a terrible cold and cough which she has not been able to shake for the over two weeks since her return. Hopefully for all she will recover soon and I can have my wife back…all the way.

A Funeral Day

It was just as in a movie. Overcast skies. The light a dull grey. A bit of chill in the air. Snow in piles still on the grass.

When I arrived I saw the hearse, a line of cars, a grieving widow and three people in military dress uniforms. Navy.

And Fred. Fred was the reason I was there. I did not know his older brother Gilbert. Older by only two years at age 85. I racked my brain to figure out if I had even met him. I must have. At Bobby’s (Fred’s older son and my friend for 46 years) wedding? At Fred’s or my Mom’s birthday party? I could not remember.

Fred is not one to talk much so I had not heard stories about his brother. I did not know until the funeral day that Gil had been in the Navy. Stormed the beach at Normandy. Was direct in his speech, hard on the outside but always willing to help anyone who needed it.

This was the first funeral for me with a military tribute. I have heard Taps on TV and in the movies. It is a different in person experience. Haunting, sorrowful, moving. An American flag was draped over the coffin. With military precision it was folded, ever so slowly and exactly and then handed from one officer to the next until it was presented to the widow. She was thanked on behalf of the President of the United States for the service of her husband.

This was followed by a talk by a rabbi. I had noticed the rabbi earlier. A perfect example of not judging a book by its cover. On the exterior he was disheveled. Older coat hanging poorly on his frame open to a sweater that was rolled in bunches. Yet when he spoke…Great voice and beautiful words.

Soon it was over. I walked the 25 steps to my mother’s gravesite to pay my respects. I had not been there often. My brother has. I keep wondering what if anything that says about me. I have been supremely sad since she died and I still talk to her. I think I need to go visit her more often.

I also need to pay more attention to the living. While he outwardly shows little emotion it has to make one feel one’s mortality when your sibling, only two year’s older dies. I do not spend enough time with Fred. That too will change.

 As we all got in our cars and headed home, I took one more look at the day. Definitely a funeral day.