Jan Needs Me Now!
Estimated reading time: 14 minutes, 3 seconds
One Step at a Time
As I turned in McCarren Park and headed south to my home, I glanced across at Automotive High School. Almost a half-decade prior, I had met Jan when school was over, and we would walk in this park hand in hand. It was the year before our wedding, and she worked as a drug counselor. My feet begged me to cross the street and stand by the entrance, hoping she would exit from the doorway into my arms. But Sam’s admonition kept me on the route home.
Turning to North 12th from Bedford, my Apple Watch began to ring. A few months ago, it rang all the time, but I needed a job to remember the sound of the ringtone. Who would be calling me?
Slowing my pace, I lifted my left hand to determine who was calling. There was no caller id, and I thought for a moment to avoid answering.
It could be someone with a new phone number. If it is a junk call, I can hang up.
“Hello,” I answered in what many had conveyed to me was my watch’s robotic voice.
“Richard, it’s Jan. I am so glad you answered.”
My feet screeched to a halt as I heard her voice echoing with tears.
“It is wonderful to hear from you. How are you?”
“I am not OK. I needed to talk to someone whom I could trust….”
“I am all ears.” I interrupted her.
“Thanks. I did not know anyone else I could call. You told me I could when we spoke at your retirement dinner.”
I nodded my head as if she was standing next to me.
“I have been diagnosed with blood cancer.”
My body shook, and I could hear her voice quivering as it choked up with tears.
I started to speak, but she continued talking before I could formulate the words for a response.
“I am meeting with the oncologist this afternoon. Today they will tell me what type of cancer I have and the treatment plan. I am aware I should not ask this of you after everything I did to hurt you, but could you go with me to the appointment?” Jan paused for a moment.
My calendar was free for the balance of the day, but before I could speak, Jan’s garbled voice said, “I am sorry, I should not have called.”
“What time, where is the appointment,” my mind raced through the questions of who, what, and where.
Jan started to give me the details.
“I can and will go with you, but can you text the information? I am walking now and do not want to trust my memory.”
“Yes.”
I wanted to continue talking to her, but I told her I needed to get home so I could shower and change before meeting her.
“I appreciate this. I am afraid and did not know whom else I could call.”
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.
