Romance

 

Romance

 

In My Bloodstream: Lisinopril,  Amlodopine,  Omeprazole, Tamsulosin
On The Stereo: I Remember You: Tony Bennet (from the album -The Art of Romance)

As promised, I did play golf on the weekend.  There was minimal leakage from my wounds and if anyone noticed, they said nothing.    And I played with "the Relix" on Wednesday and Friday, as well.  I really think that they are sympathetic with my condition and don't make a fuss.  After all, many of them have endured worse.  At least in my mind.

I have mentioned my old friends before, and I have talked previously regarding the history that still lives within each of us.  A good number of this golf group, with a little encouragement, will tell me some stories of their lives.  And, a while ago, I talked about what I had lost when my parents died.  The details of their  romance will be forever a mystery.

So I asked Lowell, one of our golfers, about Jan, his wife, and how they met.

Lowell has lived an extraordinary life.  He is a graduate of Ohio University.  I kid him about being in the first graduating class (1810, I think), and he does laugh.  He still has a strong sense of humor and maintains his thirst for knowledge.  Every time we meet, he asks my thoughts on some news item or some question about sports.

He flew with the Air force.  He became a school principal after his tour was ended.  He asks regularly about Kathy and how she is holding up with the specter of covid-19 hanging over her head.  He loves her spunk.  He believes teachers should do their job.

He explained that while he was a principal, the young woman who taught music used to lobby him interminably.  She was never content.  Every week she wanted new instruments or new sheets of music, or more time for lessons, and on and on. She never would give up, and she was driving him crazy.  So, he did the only thing he could do, to get her out of his school.  He married her.  That much of the story I already knew.

So this week, I don't know why, but out of the blue, I asked Lowell if he had ever been to Vegas.  What I really asked, was if he knew about the city's beginnings.  Siegel, he said, and the mafia.  The man holds history.  Not a stammer or a hesitation.  He just knows stuff.  Front of mind.  Still sharp and alert.

"Jan and I were playing blackjack at the Sahara, when I reminded her that we had an appointment at the Little Church of the West".  They had reserved a strict fifteen minute window for the ceremony.  "Hold my place, I'll be right back",  she said to the dealer.  And off they dashed.  And that is how and where, Jan and Lowell were married.

Romance.

Lowell struggles to walk. He likely weighs in at about 90 pounds, and wears a back brace to help him stand upright (kind of).  He plays some golf holes and opts out when he tires or the terrain is not to his suiting.  His balance is on the edge.  He has taken several falls when we play.  He and Jan still live together in their home, around the corner from us.

Jan has Alzheimer's and cannot be left alone.  She cannot feed herself or care for herself.  She will wander off if the door is left unlocked.  A neighbor bathes her several times a week.  Other than that,  Lowell looks after her every need.  That is his life.  All alone in a house with two people.

Romance.

I am privileged to live here and know people like Lowell.  So many of the people I meet have something to say.  Good things.  Interesting things.  Amazing things.  Stories of families, health, war, adventure, and often, the everyday struggle to survive the deteriorating condition of the human body.  Honest conversation is prized and appreciated.  Many cherish an opportunity to communicate.  Loneliness can be pervasive if you have no one to lean on.  And mostly, I am continually amazed at the human spirit.  It is clearly evident that we all want to see tomorrow.

With isolation due to the pandemic, some of us have more available time to contemplate.  We can re-visit our younger days and reflect on our romances - old and new.   I can remember walking along the train tracks, overlooking Lake Couchiching, in the pouring summer rain, holding hands with a high school girl friend.  We stopped and kissed.  The rain enveloped us and I can still bring back the warmth of that brief moment.  My first brush with romance at fifteen years of age. 

I have written often of my love affair with my Child Bride.  She was so young and naive and full of life when we first met.  And we fell headlong into a life together.  We have traveled together in time, through those early days of dating and uncovering who each of us were.  We married and had beautiful babies.  And in a nanosecond of  time, we are here and now.  And my romance lives on.  Perhaps stronger and more embedded than ever.  

I have had the great good fortune to live an adventure.  Not much of our lives together has been what most would call normal.  Careers  have stopped and started.  We have traveled the globe and carry fantastic and funny stories of our journeys.  Strained relationships have not deterred our love of family.  Health issues beyond belief have been challenging.  And now a pandemic to test our grit.  

And our incredulous ongoing situation, juxtaposing my golf partners, some of whom are eighty, against Kath's daily business of teaching children, who are only six.  We live at opposite ends of the spectrum.  

Each of us have daily stories.  And we, together, laugh at our lives.  There is joy each and every day.  And we are grateful for all we have been given.  The good times have been rewarding and the difficulties have strengthened our resolve and made us better people.

I hope you can make some time to talk with your loved ones and look back at what you have accomplished.  Be thankful for the life you lead and the friendship we share.  All of us.

Have a great week.  

Love from Florida.  Where a hint of autumn is in the air - the license plates are changing color and the temperatures have dropped from the 90"s.