Planning Our Wedding!
Estimated reading time: 12 minutes, 21 seconds
Despite Uncertainty,
Love is All We Need
“Slow down, my love,” I pleaded into the phone. “I can barely hear you. Are you OK?” A river of tears drowned out Jan’s voice. I should have stayed with her last night, but I had not been home for several days. I gave up getting an answer and decided to get to her house as soon as possible. “I am on my way. Sit tight, and I will be there in a flash to love and support you!
Please, please hurry,” Jan screamed between sobs.
I put my sneakers on and grabbed my jacket.
Leaving my apartment on Powers Street, I quickly decided it was faster for me to walk to the G train instead of taking the Lazy L two stops.
Anyone who watched how I walked would have thought I was a rabbit hopping aimlessly in a fruitless search for carrots.
But I was on a mission to get to Jan’s apartment on Washington Park in Ft. Greene as quickly as possible.
I had known Jan for less than eighteen months and rarely heard her cry. Never had I heard tears like this. She sounded like Niagara Falls at full force.
What could have upset her? My mind raced thru multiple options as I entered the subway at Lorimer and Metropolitan. As soon as I slid the token into the turnstile, I could hear a train coming. I jogged down the stairs and got into the last car of the G train seconds before the doors closed.
With only three stops, I walked two cars ahead of where I was so I would be close to the exit nearest her home.
There was no reason I could think of that she would be angry with me. Had her parents refused to attend the wedding? It was Sunday, so it could not be work-related.
When I had left, she seemed to accept that as possible but was sure they would relent when she had made it clear we had a Rabbi and were going to marry in August
As the doors opened, I whispered, “What could have upset her?”
Racing up the stairs to Myrtle Avenue, I dodged a few beggars. “I will help on the return trip,” I shouted.
As soon as I got to her building, I raced up the steps and rang her bell. As soon as she opened the door, I took the stairs two at a time.
Her apartment door was partially open, and I raced inside.
“Honey, I love you!”
I took her in my arms, held her close, and asked, “What happened?”
Before she could answer, I grabbed Shira and Avis, our two kittens, as they raced toward the open door. Holding one in each arm, I shut the door with my elbow.
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.
