Tuesday, March 31, 2015

A List.

It's only Monday yet I'm already tired.  Two boys playing baseball.  Oh, and did I tell you that Sarah is playing T-ball now too?  Normally I'm not an advocate of T-ball, but this year I really believe that Sarah will benefit from an organized activity that doesn't include me.  Today was Jon's first practice.  I couldn't find him when it was time to go, but then I saw him running up from the tree that Bill is buried under.  He told me that he had to "talk a few things over with Dad" before his first practice. Gulp.

I want to make a list tonight of some things I want to remember about Bill and I.  Just things I don't want to forget, or maybe just things I feel like thinking about right now.

We used to go to this adorable coffee shop in Albany called Boccherini's.  We each got a mocha (with tons of whipped cream) and split a piece of cake or cheesecake.  We did this almost every week when I would visit him at school.

One time when we were fishing in the river below his Grandparent's house, I jumped off a cliff because I didn't want to fall.  I believe there is a witness to substantiate this story.  Anyway, I think Bill was sure I was going to die on impact, but when I didn't, he laughed so hard I think he wet his pants.  Whenever he talked about that incident he would undoubtedly laugh hysterically.  He's probably still laughing.  Maybe in Heaven you can replay memories on a screen?

On our honeymoon, I had food poisoning after an unfortunate Burger King meal (Woodburn, and I was starving after the wedding).  I spent the night puking in the hotel bathroom.  In a honeymoon nightie too!  Somewhere I have pictures.  Really.

The first time we left Madeline for a night (she was 18 months old), we spent the entire time fighting.  I don't even remember what about now.

The first time we left Jack and Madeline for the night we stayed at this swanky place in Depot Bay that boasted outside jacuzzi tubs.  Against the rules and probably my better judgement, we put bubble bath in the tub and ended up flooding the yard with bubbles.  Like so many bubbles they were blowing across the jetty.  Like so many bubbles you couldn't see the grass in the yard.  Like so many bubbles they were blowing across the sea wall.  We sat inside (not in the jacuzzi--it was too bubbly) and laughed and laughed.  I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out.

When Bill lived in the rundown apartment in Dallas, fondly called "The Slums", we regularly visited the local tavern across the street and adjacent to the Polk County Courthouse called "Rio's."  Often times we were the only patrons.  Bill and his roommates were there so often that they became friends with the bartender.  There was pool, video poker, and cheap beer.  Oh, the debauchery!  I still remember the jukebox songs we played.

When Bill moved away from "The Slums" and into a duplex in Monmouth the following year, he created a little garden, complete with fish pond, on the side yard.  Remember that, Gilly?

Once, when he broke his collarbone in a baseball game (making an incredible diving catch), I had to take him to the ER.  I think he was 16.  After they immobilized him and gave him some pain killers, I had to drive him and two of his teammates home.  From Portland.  And I had never driven in Portland before.  And then he barfed on me and in my shoes while I was on 205.

When I was pregnant with Madeline and he was finishing up school, we would go for a walk every morning around Monmouth.  We would walk and make plans for our future.  So happy and excited.

For our entire marriage, Bill knew that when we sat together on the sofa to watch a movie, he must rub my feet.  He would just instinctively start rubbing. Gosh, I miss that!

Every single morning, before he'd even said a word, he would lean over and kiss the top of my head.  I'm not much of a morning person so he knew not to speak.  


2 comments:

Unknown said...

Hey, my friend --I've been rereading a few of your posts, and am reminded of how many similar memories we have, although we had not known each other �� When we were in college, Mark lived in an apartment which we 'affectionally' called Slum Villa. We spent many evenings at a little billiard place with a jukebox and cheap beer. Memories connect new friends, too. Love you, sistah.

Julie Pennick said...

Why am I not surprised by this? We've been destined to be friends, I think!