Shadows from the Past
Estimated reading time: 15 minutes, 33 seconds
Airport Shuttle
Sleet was falling as I paced the office. I was supposed to go to the airport to pick up my friend in the afternoon. I had reserved the office van. The driving conditions were not ideal, but my primary concern was Jan, not the icy road. For the last month, I had reminded her every day how much I loved her. But I knew she was worried, as was I. I did not want to lose the love of my life, but we seemed to be on thin ice on the second day of 1974.
“Richard, you have a call on line 2,” June, the Church secretary, said.
I picked up the extension and heard my friend’s voice, “My plane will not be arriving until 8:30. Winter weather here. Is that OK?”
I answered yes quickly and then repeated, “I will be there to pick you up.”
I hung up the phone gingerly, went to the van reservation form, deleted my afternoon reservation, and moved it to 7:30. I stood there thinking and erased the time and changed it to 6:30.I will pick up Jan and bring her with me. Brilliant Richard! That way, Jan will see with her eyes that there is no reason to worry.
I went back to my basement office. Jan could not receive calls at work, but I did leave her a message. “The plane is arriving late. I will pick you up so we can go together. Call and let me know the best place to meet you?”
The street was salted, but the sidewalks were sleek as I warmed up the van. Jan had agreed to go with me. I eased the van into the street and drove slowly initially to get acclimated to the road conditions.
After a slow, difficult drive, I pulled in front of Jan’s apartment, and before I could get out to open the door for her, she was sitting next to me.
“I am glad it worked out you could go with me to the airport.”
“I am happy to go with you,” Jan said. “Are you sure you do not want private time with your girlfriend?”
Her voice was bitter and tart.
“I have no desire to be alone with her, and she is not my girlfriend!”
I turned on the radio to WBAI. Until we arrived at the airport, neither of us said more than a few words.
As we left the van, I wanted to reassure Jan, but I could not find the correct words, so I hugged and kissed her.
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
