So, what do I say?

As I suspect you saw from wherever it is that you went after your body abandoned you, we went out to Rigazzi’s for dinner on Valentine’s Day last night. Half a dozen couples, all appearing to be in their early 30’s, were seated at a table next to ours. Good looking and happy appearing folks, all. I especially noticed one of the women. She was wearing a head cover, and the complexion of someone undergoing chemo. Well, she was also wearing nice clothes and big earrings. I was reminded of you.

God, I wanted to say something to her. I wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful, and strong. Although not necessarily true in the conventional sense of the words “beautiful” or “strong,” it is more true than it would be by those definitions. I KNOW this. And that’s why I can’t say it. I don’t want to start the conversation, because I fear it might lead to a discouraging place. I remember when women would come up to you and say, “I can see what your going through. You look great! I’ve been there and you can make it.” I can’t recall a time when a man came up to you and said “you’re beautiful, stay strong” without more explanation, and walked away. It’s hard for me to resist the urge, but I don’t want to remind her of the obvious possibility that she might leave her loved ones.

This isn’t the way I wanted to be reminded of you. I wish I would have just seen an attractive woman who was obviously quick witted, and had a certain spark in her eyes and red curly hair. That’s really the way I remember you. Love you! Happy Valentines Day, my sweet Babboo-ette.

Tom