I’ve obviously thought about this post for a while, but decided to write it off the cuff. 

I vividly remember the night before Tony died.  For some reason I didn’t want anyone with me.  I told my Mom, my brother and his family, my parents in law, Hannah and Jacob to all go home – get some rest.  The hospice nurse had told me that he could last anywhere from 3-6 weeks without a functioning kidney because he wasn’t eating or drinking anything.  It was December 1st and I remember thinking how I was going to juggle work, his parents in town, etc. for what could be well into 2015.  But I knew I’d figure it out. 

What I really regret was that when Tony was still speaking to me and coherent, just a mere week before he died – I still didn’t believe he was going to die.  We’d get through it.  I wanted him to just rest and sleep and we’d talk when he got better.   There would be plenty of time!

But on December 1, 2014, with the house all quiet, and me sleeping on pillows below his hospital bed because I wanted to be so close in case he needed me, when he actually hadn’t moved for a couple days, I spent a good two hours talking to him. I told him that I loved him to the moon and back. I told him that I was so happy to have been married to my best friend.  That he was sometimes an asshole because he wasn’t always right even when he thought he was…. ALL.THE.TIME.  I talked about how me met, and how lucky we were that we had two healthy kids.  How the reason I even responded to the comment he left on my online ad was that he was proud to be Italian but had two separate eye brows and no back hair – it made me laugh out loud.  Don’t worry Bonnie (my MIL) I always reminded him that he was half French Canadian.

I knew I wasn’t going to get a verbal response, but I just kept talking.  I didn’t know if he was actually here or not, so I just.kept.talking.  Finally at about two in the morning, I realized that I was going to have a house full of people the next day, and willed myself to pull myself away from him and get some rest.  It wasn’t until I got on my tippy toes to lean over to kiss him that I saw tears streaming down his face.  I’ve not told that to anyone, because I wanted that memory for me.  I wonder if he wished he could have said something to me – but in the end it didn’t matter.  I knew he heard me.  I know he loved me.  He always told me that he could never live without me, and that if he died first I would end up okay.

hospice 002

And surprisingly, as I finish the second year without him, I think I will by okay.  It’s been a weird two years without him, but also the most adventurous I’ve had in my life.  From quitting my job, doing the farmers markets over the summer, to finding my dream job at The Chopping Block, only to realize that I can’t live off of that income, to coming full circle working back at a law firm.

But it’s different this time.  I love working in Chicago.  Love being close to my sister so that we can meet for lunch or walks.  Also surprisingly loving the “routine” of having a 9-5, but still keeping my foot in the door at The Chopping Block.  In some weird way, it was all meant to be.

Do you guys remember the musical Rent?  OMG, Tony hated musicals with a passion.  He always reminded me that when I wanted to see a musical he said “that’s why you have a mother, sister and a daughter.”   I saw that years ago, but yesterday I was reminded of one of the songs from that musical “Seasons of Love.”  There are 525,600 minutes in a year.  And if you were to count all the seasons of love Tony and I had together that would be 4 seasons a year x 14 years so 56 seasons of love!

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets
In midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles
In laughter, in strife

In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure a year in the life

How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love
Seasons of love
Seasons of love

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand
Journeys to plan
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned
Or in times that he cried
In bridges she burned
Or the way that he died

It’s time now to sing out
Tho’ the story never ends
Let’s celebrate
Remember a year in the life of friends

Remember the love
Remember the love
Remember the love
Measure in love
Measure, measure your life in love

So I choose to remember the love today.   Hug your spouse, hug your kids.  I hope you choose to measure your life in love Open-mouthed smile