How sad.... On Mon, Mar 13, 2017 at 2:07 PM, Kamakazee <[email protected]> wrote:
> And she died this morning... > > > > > You May Want To Marry My Husband > I have been trying to write this for a while, but the morphine and lack of > juicy cheeseburgers (what has it been now, five weeks without real food?) > have drained my energy and interfered with whatever prose prowess remains. > Additionally, the intermittent micronaps that keep whisking me away > midsentence are clearly not propelling my work forward as quickly as I > would like. But they are, admittedly, a bit of trippy fun. > Still, I have to stick with it, because I’m facing a deadline, in this > case, a pressing one. I need to say this (and say it right) while I have a) > your attention, and b) a pulse. > > I have been married to the most extraordinary man for 26 years. I was > planning on at least another 26 together. > > Want to hear a sick joke? A husband and wife walk into the emergency room > in the late evening on Sept. 5, 2015. A few hours and tests later, the > doctor clarifies that the unusual pain the wife is feeling on her right > side isn’t the no-biggie appendicitis they suspected but rather ovarian > cancer. > > > > > As the couple head home in the early morning of Sept. 6, somehow through > the foggy shock of it all, they make the connection that today, the day > they learned what had been festering, is also the day they would have > officially kicked off their empty-nestering. The youngest of their three > children had just left for college. > > > So many plans instantly went poof. > > No trip with my husband and parents to South Africa. No reason, now, to > apply for the Harvard Loeb Fellowship. No dream tour of Asia with my > mother. No writers’ residencies at those wonderful schools in India, > Vancouver, Jakarta. > > No wonder the word cancer and cancel look so similar. > > > This is when we entered what I came to think of as Plan “Be,” existing > only in the present. As for the future, allow me to introduce you to the > gentleman of this article, Jason Brian Rosenthal. > > He is an easy man to fall in love with. I did it in one day. > > Let me explain: My father’s best friend since summer camp, “Uncle” John, > had known Jason and me separately our whole lives, but Jason and I had > never met. I went to college out east and took my first job in California. > When I moved back home to Chicago, John — who thought Jason and I were > perfect for each other — set us up on a blind date. > > It was 1989. We were only 24. I had precisely zero expectations about this > going anywhere. But when he knocked on the door of my little frame house, I > thought, “Uh-oh, there is something highly likable about this person.” > > By the end of dinner, I knew I wanted to marry him. > > Jason? He knew a year later. > > > I have never been on Tinder, Bumble or eHarmony, but I’m going to create a > general profile for Jason right here, based on my experience of coexisting > in the same house with him for, like, 9,490 days. > First, the basics: He is 5-foot-10, 160 pounds, with salt-and-pepper hair > and hazel eyes. > > The following list of attributes is in no particular order because > everything feels important to me in some way. > > > He is a sharp dresser. Our young adult sons, Justin and Miles, often > borrow his clothes. Those who know him — or just happen to glance down at > the gap between his dress slacks and dress shoes — know that he has a flair > for fabulous socks. He is fit and enjoys keeping in shape. > If our home could speak, it would add that Jason is uncannily handy. On > the subject of food — man, can he cook. After a long day, there is no > sweeter joy than seeing him walk in the door, plop a grocery bag down on > the counter, and woo me with olives and some yummy cheese he has procured > before he gets to work on the evening’s meal. > Jason loves listening to live music; it’s our favorite thing to do > together. I should also add that our 19-year-old daughter, Paris, would > rather go to a concert with him than anyone else. > > When I was working on my first memoir, I kept circling sections my editor > wanted me to expand upon. She would say, “I’d like to see more of this > character.” > > > Of course, I would agree — he was indeed a captivating character. But it > was funny because she could have just said: “Jason. Let’s add more about > Jason.” > > He is an absolutely wonderful father. Ask anyone. See that guy on the > corner? Go ahead and ask him; he’ll tell you. Jason is compassionate — and > he can flip a pancake. > > > Jason paints. I love his artwork. I would call him an artist except for > the law degree that keeps him at his downtown office most days from 9 to 5. > Or at least it did before I got sick. > > > If you’re looking for a dreamy, let’s-go-for-it travel companion, Jason is > your man. He also has an affinity for tiny things: taster spoons, little > jars, a mini-sculpture of a couple sitting on a bench, which he presented > to me as a reminder of how our family began. > > > Here is the kind of man Jason is: He showed up at our first pregnancy > ultrasound with flowers. This is a man who, because he is always up early, > surprises me every Sunday morning by making some kind of oddball smiley > face out of items near the coffeepot: a spoon, a mug, a banana. > > This is a man who emerges from the minimart or gas station and says, “Give > me your palm.” And, voilà, a colorful gumball appears. (He knows I love all > the flavors but white.) > > My guess is you know enough about him now. So let’s swipe right. > > Wait. Did I mention that he is incredibly handsome? I’m going to miss > looking at that face of his. > > If he sounds like a prince and our relationship seems like a fairy tale, > it’s not too far off, except for all of the regular stuff that comes from > two and a half decades of playing house together. And the part about me > getting cancer. Blech. > > In my most recent memoir (written entirely before my diagnosis), I invited > readers to send in suggestions for matching tattoos, the idea being that > author and > > reader would be bonded by ink. > > I was totally serious about this and encouraged submitters to be serious > as well. Hundreds poured in. A few weeks after publication in August, I > heard from a 62-year-old librarian in Milwaukee named Paulette. > > > She suggested the word “more.” This was based on an essay in the book > where I mention that “more” was my first spoken word (true). And now it may > very well be my last (time shall tell). > > > In September, Paulette drove down to meet me at a Chicago tattoo parlor. > She got hers (her very first) on her left wrist. I got mine on the > underside of my left forearm, in my daughter’s handwriting. This was my > second tattoo; the first is a small, lowercase “j” that has been on my > ankle for 25 years. You can probably guess what it stands for. Jason has > one too, but with more letters: “AKR.” > > > I want more time with Jason. I want more time with my children. I want > more time sipping martinis at the Green Mill Jazz Club on Thursday nights. > But that is not going to happen. I probably have only a few days left being > a person on this planet. So why I am doing this? > I am wrapping this up on Valentine’s Day, and the most genuine, > non-vase-oriented gift I can hope for is that the right person reads this, > finds Jason, and another love story begins. > > > I’ll leave this intentional empty space below as a way of giving you two > the fresh start you deserve. > > https://www.nytimes.com/2017/03/03/style/modern-love-you- > may-want-to-marry-my-husband.html?_r=0 > > > -- > -- > Thanks for being part of "PoliticalForum" at Google Groups. > For options & help see http://groups.google.com/group/PoliticalForum > > * Visit our other community at http://www.PoliticalForum.com/ > * It's active and moderated. Register and vote in our polls. > * Read the latest breaking news, and more. > --- > You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups > "PoliticalForum" group. > To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an > email to [email protected]. > For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/d/optout. > -- -- Thanks for being part of "PoliticalForum" at Google Groups. For options & help see http://groups.google.com/group/PoliticalForum * Visit our other community at http://www.PoliticalForum.com/ * It's active and moderated. Register and vote in our polls. * Read the latest breaking news, and more. --- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "PoliticalForum" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/d/optout.
