Category: Home Fires

Al has a couple of nicknames for me, but my favorite is “absent-minded professor” with the images it conjures of head in clouds and nose in books. And also being smart and professorial. It’s true, lots of things go over my head. But just lately I’ve noticed a decline in what I remember. I take a medication for stress that has a dark side effect: it mimics dementia.

Now, if I knew it was the meds, for sure, I’d be cool. But I am also a drama queen, so you know, I’ve been wondering. Could this be real signs of something? I have a doctor’s appointment with a new (female) physician and I’m going to tell her what’s happening with me and my meds. My current (male) neurologist loves pills. Hey, when I have migraine, I love them too.

But. On an everyday basis, I don’t love the pills so much. They sap my energy. The former Cindy was energetic to the point of perpetual motion that skipped into anxiety with the smallest push. This is similar to how bi-polar people must experience the world, even though the “low” for me is a side effect of meds. I’m all evened out now, and while I adore the relief from anxiety, I miss the energy.

Really hoping this woman doc can set me straight on what to do. It took me months to get an appointment, she’s that good. I can still be the absentminded professor, but with an edge.

♥ 28 years ago today, Al and I dove heart first into marriage. ♥

My third, his first. Was I a little bit embarrassed? Yes. I wanted to do it quietly with no fuss. My friends & family had already been to my big wedding with the veil and the dress and the church.

But Al wanted a wedding. A real wedding where he would invite all his family and friends and wear a tuxedo. He agreed it would be fine if I just wore a pretty dress suitable for a third marriage.

I let Al plan everything. He hired a DJ and a caterer and cleaned out his garage for the lovely cake his sister baked. He made space so the food could be set up properly. He hired people to erect canopy, tables, and chairs in his enormous leafy green yard. A Unitarian minister married us in a little church in town. Then on to Al’s house for the reception. His parents set up a bar in the kitchen and provided quite an array of liquor. A keg of beer got a work out on the patio where later, we danced.

And the next morning, after partying well into the night, he took me to Maui for a week. We almost missed the plane.

♥ 28 years ♥

That’s a chunk of change. Our song is “In My Life” by the Beatles, appropriate lyrics for someone like me who had loved much and perhaps too often. Somewhere in those years, all of our LPs were ruined in a basement flood. Since then, little by little, Al has been amassing a new collection of our old records. He still has a turntable with a fine diamond needle.

When I mentioned that I wanted to buy him a Beatles LP for our anniversary to my neighbor (and new BFF!) she said she had a stack of them in her basement and she’d bring them over and Al could choose one. She would not let me pay for it. Nice neighbor, right? She came over with the LPs and which one did Al choose? None other than Rubber Soul, my favorite. And as he turned it over and pointed, I saw yes, this one is the LP with our song on it. He’s so romantic.

Many years ago, on this day, I gave birth to my first child. Michael was (and still is) perfect. My sweet boy and I did everything together for two years until his baby brother was born. While Dad was at work, we two developed a special bond that I still feel now. We were tight. Better than best buddies. A world of just us.

My life was entirely devoted to him. He didn’t have a babysitter. I didn’t trust anyone (except on rare occasion my mom) with my little treasure. Everything he did was wonderful to me. One of my favorite memories was the first time he saw dust motes slanting in with the sunlight through a window. He reached for them and looked at me with delighted wonder as they swirled, so tiny and out of reach.

With boys, it’s hard to know when to pull back on the sentimentality. I think now is probably good. Mike is his own man now, with a house and a career and, best of all, a wife who loves him well. They recently visited for five days and I didn’t hear one cross word between them the whole time. And his wonderful life is all I could have wished for him way back when he was born on this very same day.