Got home a little early last night from work. It was warm out and I was excited to be outside with the guys. Nobody was home. I looked upstairs, downstairs, outside and in the neighborhood park. Nowhere. I told myself they would be home soon because hey—they would be excited to see me, right? Told myself to enjoy the peace of a quiet house.
Finally called Ernie’s cel phone only to hear it ring from the pocket of his jacket thrown over the chair.
An hour and a half later they showed up. They’d been riding their bikes at the school. Ernie looked at my face and said, "didn’t you get my note?" He’d left me a note on the dining room table. Our dining room table is always a sea of papers….I didn’t see it.
I couldn’t be mad, right? He’d left a note and they were out getting exercise in the somewhat springlike weather.
Poor Judi had a fenderbender kind of car accident yesterday. I felt
terrible for her. She’s fine apart from some aches but when you’re
feeling fragile emotionally (and physically) things like that can just
push you over the edge. I think that’s how I felt (on a much smaller
scale) when I didn’t know where the guys were last night. When you’re
trying to just push through and stay positive your state of mind can be
somewhat fragile…something that wouldn’t normally throw you can
become too large. And mind you I’m a worrier….it’s a good thing I
have a reliable husband because after waiting oh say 15 minutes I begin
picturing him dead. Remember the big Valentine’s Day snowstorm
in 1990? Even though the news reports were filled with stories about
traffic being snarled and people abandoning their cars on Lake Shore
Drive…I still was sure he was dead. When he finally got home to
Rogers Park about 5 hours after he’d left Hyde Park he came in, tossed
pink tulips at me and raced to the bathroom….. I’m just a worrier.
I went to a visitation the other day and as I stood there with the woman I know, the widow, she pointed to the casket and said helplessly, "he was my life." And that has haunted me somewhat since then.