June 9, 2010

While sitting here in the vacant, wide-open space of my newly finished basement waiting for my massive, comfy couch to arrive, I figured now would be a good time to send you, my family and friends, an update.

I’ve had a busy few weeks with finishing Leaving Virginia, the basement, and now trying to hide as many boxes of books as I can in various closets throughout my house…So busy that I’m ashamed to say, despite all life has taught me, I once again lost sight of the fragility of life.  I regressed back to my previous life where all I did was live, breathe, and dream medicine.  My expertise on the art of denying death returned.  I do believe I’m not alone when I say most of my life has been spent forgetting the reality that one day my life will end.  I suspect this absentmindedness is a very good thing. 

This past week I was quickly reminded of our human mortality when I heard news that a dear neighbor of mine was admitted to the hospital for chest pain.  A few days later, one of my aunts was in a terrible automobile accident.  And then, not long thereafter, my Dad wrecked his motorcycle on the way home from work. 

My neighbor just celebrated her 64^th birthday a few days back.  On her birthday, she was evaluated in the ER for recurrent kidney stones.  Two days following, she called me complaining of chest pain.  I remember telling my Dad that Elda was admitted for observation.  His response was, “Not another. This would really hurt our neighborhood.  She and Dick have been really good to our family.”  He was implying that her death would be devastating.  I have to agree.  Elda and her family are like family to us. I love her dearly.

My aunt was discharged from the hospital but has a long road ahead of her.  Her niece will be getting married in less than two weeks and I have hope she’ll be able to attend. 

And for Mike, my father…he thinks he’s invincible ─ like a 16 year old boy.  I don’t really understand the specifics of the accident but was told he had to wreck his motorcycle on purpose so as to avoid hitting a careless driver.  Both he and his motorcycle are fine. 

Thank goodness.  Another week has passed where life out won death.  I’ll take as many of these as I can.

Just like I’ve discovered when running for every uphill climb there’s always a descent, it almost always seems life comes in spurts.  We’ll be hit with twelve hard blows, and then something spectacular will happen.  We never forget the bad, but the good that follows makes us yearn to continue on, to experience more.

This past weekend, on Saturday June 5, Brad decided to “get his knee dirty”.  For those who might not understand this slightly bizarre lingo, he threw me a curve ball and proposed to me in Central Park.  Honestly, I figured the two of us would die boyfriend and girlfriend.  Heck, we’ve been dating for over a decade now. 

All the ladies keep asking me for details so with Brad’s permission I’ve succumbed to your questioning…

I made plans with the neighbors for a day spent at the pool and a barbeque thereafter.  Brad rained on my parade and suggested a day spent in the city instead.  Although I didn’t see this coming, I had a good feeling about his proposition and agreed to cancel my plans.

We spent the day walking around Chinatown, one of my favorite things to do in New York, gallivanting through a number of street fairs, eating a ton of free food (Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, brownies, tootsie pops…it was heaven!), and exploring Central Park.  Somewhere in between all of that we stopped for a beer (cider for me) at a local brewery. Brad told me he wanted to venture into parts of Central Park we hadn’t seen before, so we walked, and we walked…and walked.  I’m pretty sure the treads of our shoes took on twenty miles ─ literally. 

During our walk, I had to get a “mega-missile” (a far oversized red, white, and blue popsicle that I always insist on getting when walking through the park).  Of course, I spilt this all over myself partially because of my clumsiness but also because of the temperature.  The day was terribly hot and humid too.  I had to make a few pit stops due to the size of my bladder and, of course, I didn’t wear my “walking shoes”.   A hot spot was developing on the sole of my foot.  Strangely enough, I wasn’t all too bothered by this.  It was a really good day. 

So, just as I was saying that we probably ought to head out of the park soon, as it was nearing 8pm, Brad found his “perfect spot” to sit down.  He’d been looking for a spot to sit and “rest his legs” for a while by then.  After walking up a narrow, mulched path, he found a secluded bench made out of stone.  If front of the bench stood a railing and a beautiful, theatre style overlook into the park.  I remember him saying, “This will do”.  As I sat down he joined me for about a second.  Then he slowly got up, walked to the railing, gazed out, turned around, looked back at me, then again back out into the park.  Finally he turned around, walked toward me and “got his knee dirty”.  I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination.  I can’t tell it allJ

Believe it or not, the ring didn’t fit!  I felt horrible.  My hands were swollen from the heat and it wouldn’t even budge.  All night Brad kept insisting I put my hand in ice to make it fit.  Fortunately, by morning it fit like a glove. 

I never was one for jewelry but, strangely enough, I love this ring. It’s neat to look at it and think that one day, when my time has passed, my loved ones might hold onto this piece of my history ─ something to remember me by.

We slowly walked out of the park as changed people from the boyfriend and girlfriend who walked into that same park earlier in the day, down Broadway, through Times Square, to a lovely bar where we ate a delicious dinner.

Certainly, it’s a day I will never forget. 

I feel like the luckiest person in the world. 

Crazy how something as beautiful as love can make us forget all the sadness this world possesses…if just for a minute.