. . . and brought him to his favorite diner: Yesterday’s . . .

Yesterday’s is a diner in Floral Park near my Dad’s house where I used to meet him
almost every Monday and Wednesday afternoon for brunch between my husband’s
cognitive and vestibular therapy appointments for two years, from 2018 through 2019.

There just happened to be enough time to grab a quick bite for an hour or so, sandwiched
in-between these two appointments and Yesterday’s was conveniently located, kind of
right between these 2 locations . . . and we had to eat at some point anyway!

Oh, what simple and well worth their price in gold these times were!
These were the most casual and loving conversations.
At the time, we didn’t realize how special these simple get togethers were.

Yesterday’s was our place!
We even had our usual waitress … with whom I caught up with about six months after my Dad passed. I ran in for five minutes to tell her what had happened!
She knew. She remembered my Dad. She gave me a hug. We both cried.
She knew how special those times at Yesterday’s were.
(I’m crying now!)

A little while back …
I had a dream that I broke my Dad OUT of the hospital and brought him to his favorite diner, Yesterday’s!

My husband Mike did so many wonderful things for me over our almost 50 years together. Maybe the big things were to be expected when you love each other. But it was the little things that truly showed his love for me.

There are many but the one that always comes to my mind is when our garage was always so full of stuff that I usually couldn’t pull my car into it. So every morning before I went to work, Mike would go outside (he worked from home so he was usually in his pajamas) with his paper towels and wipe all the condensation off my windows and mirrors so I would be safe. That was just one little thing that meant so much to me. He would turn on the car and heat it up in the winter or turn the air conditioning on in the summer so it would be comfortable for me before I left for work.

When I came home at night, he would have the bed made and our bedroom vacuumed. He knew how much I appreciated that. He is the love of my life.

My beautiful momma — such quiet presence in life. With her loss comes a deafening silence.

She lived with me. I took her with me everyplace. My person. My best friend. My constant. She brought color to my world. Our crazy casino trips, meals out, shopping, hair salon visits and our drives on a beautiful evening, just because. Sunday fun day. Cooking good food and screaming at the TV at our Philadelphia Eagles. Oh the joy with that Super Bowl win at last! She kept telling me to calm down. She was afraid I was going to have a heart attack! Lol

Some of these things and some of these places are now so hard to face. Some unbearable. Places I have not been back to but will eventually. I’m determined to watch football again this year and enjoy it! It’s just hard to confront. I hear her in my head. When I’m walking in from work, “Hey Barb! I’m so excited your home.” Or the call at work “Can’t wait for this weekend! I missed you this week.” I’d say that I’d be home by 5 and she’d always say “I like it when you’re home. You’re my girl and don’t you forget it.” She always said that.

All our crazy laughter at whatever may have been going on in the world. Just getting from point A to point B in the car was enough to send us into hysterics. “Mom which way? Left? Right?” Whatever she said, I always took the opposite. We ALWAYS got there! My mom was 92. She was beautiful. Looked not a day over 70. I was so proud to show her off. I took pride in taking care of her. It never was a burden. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. It wasn’t easy, she had a lot of health issues.

No matter where we were people would comment on our relationship. We were extraordinarily close. It showed. I wanted to make her happy. She hadn’t had an easy life. She had a hard childhood. Buried a husband and two sons. Not one bitter or hard-edged bone in her. When we would be saying goodbye to each other, I would always lean down to kiss her and say “give me your face!” It was our “thing,” she’d say.

Now good days are hard but bad days are harder. Nobody ever loves you like your mom. I walk in from work, silence. Look at my phone during the day while at work, silent. Driving in the car, oh the quiet … doesn’t matter what I make for dinner now or what I buy at the market. No one to care for and worry about. Seems weird to miss worry but I do. It all seems so black and white, no more color. Oh the silence? It is deafening.

40 years ago, on September 12th 1982, I walked down the aisle and married my husband, Mike.

We met at Pace University in NYC. He’d noticed me in class, though I never even knew he was in the room. We went out on our first date and when we leaving for the night I turned to him and said — we are going to get married. You are the one. Of course he looked at me like I was crazy. One date with this man and I knew he was the one.

This would have been our milestone: 5 kids, a bunch of grandchildren, tuition loans finally paid off, and almost done with our mortgage. And you are not here to celebrate but in my Heart.

We always enjoyed going to Las Vegas, but one trip was extra special. On this trip our daughter brought my mom out as a surprise. She had never flown on an airplane before and had just turned 80 years old. She experienced a lot of firsts that trip and Al made sure she enjoyed them all. Just being in Vegas, the lights, the food and Al knew all the best places to eat. He taught her how to play video poker, even being her eyes when she couldn’t see very well. For a week he made sure she saw all the sights. Oh, and all of this was while Mom was in a wheelchair. Al pushed her everywhere, helped her in and out of the van and never hesitated.

Mom’s favorite part of the trip? When he took her into Build a Bear! If you don’t know what that is, you go in pick out your bear, stuff it and get an outfit for it. It even comes with a birth certificate and the name you pick out. Mom had the best time there and asked Al if we could go again. Mom came home with three bears, from three different visits. Each visit with Al pushing her in that wheelchair, simply because she asked him to, and he loved her. Her favorite was a brown teddy bear she named Alan and dressed in a white sailor’s suit.