In the summer of 1971, I was running a rehearsal of a dozen musicians and singers. We played a Mass every Sunday in a huge church and filled every seat, including a very famous old crooner and his family. One of the singers told me that his cousin was going to be joining us. Sure. Fine. Let’s practice.
The next week, in walked this very nice looking, clean (a rarity in the early 70’s), skinny guy carrying a new Gibson Hummingbird guitar. The guitar wowed everyone but when we began to practice, I was wowed by how well he played. It was Michael.
After a while, we were asked to split up the group and to play an additional Mass. I told the Brothers that I would play an evening Mass and would take the two best guitarists with me: Michael and Matt. I was no fool.
One day, my little 1964 VW Bug was parked on a side street while I was directing a play. It was hit. I told everyone at the next rehearsal and Michael said that he was an apprentice in the Body trade and he could fix it for me. No, thank you.
Less than a month later, it was parked in the same place but turned around. It got hit and again he offered to fix it. No, thank you.
Just over a month later, I was hit while making a left hand turn when I lady decided to pass me on the left. Michael once again offered to fix it. This time, my parents said yes but they wanted to have his full name and the phone number of where the car would be fixed.
That evening, I was standing in front of my house with a piece of paper and pen to write his name and number. He told me his last name. I swear to you this really happened: as I wrote it down, I knew immediately that I was going to marry him. It was clear, absolute knowledge. From that point on, I let him take his time. I knew to the bottom of my heart that we were going to be together for life. I was 18 and he was 19-years old. Just kids!
Later, Matt left us for college. He is currently a very famous chef who we just visited this past May after not seeing each other for almost 40 years. It was as if time had never passed.
Michael and I decided to keep playing with just the two of us. During this time, we were also playing a lot of weddings and a few songs for my best friend’s crowning at a Mason ceremony. We saw each other a lot.
In February 1972, I was working the lighting and sound boards at my college theatre and went out to the parking lot at midnight one night to find Michael parked next to my VW, just waiting for me. I was so surprised. He wanted to have dessert at a local coffee shop together. After we were seated, he disappeared. I thought he was probably using the men’s room until he return to the table and said, “I just talked with your Dad to let him know that I am with you and will make sure you get home after dessert.” My Dad! He phoned after 10:00 at night!! This is just never done! Wait, oh, how sweet is that?
The next night at midnight, he again was waiting by my car. This time, he brought a picnic for us to eat while looking at a gorgeous view. The next night, we went to dinner in the big city and got home around 2:30 AM. The next day he tracked me down and said, “I really like you but these hours are killing me. When can we see each before midnight?” I told him May as I was taking a huge class load. That didn’t stop him. He spent many hours sitting at my kitchen table with me while I did homework and studied.
Three month later we decided to get married but waited until September 1973.
I win. I do have the best husband in the world. For me.
We have gotten through the worst of the realization of the impact of this disease on our lives with humor and the knowledge that we are going to see it through together.
My Workmen’s Comp lawyer told us that we were the most functional people he had ever met going through the long process. He said that most people either divorce or are living with relatives and bankrupt. He asked our secret. Fortunately, we have never lived above our means, had no debt – not even credit card debt – and had lots of savings. We adjusted to my loss of my income. We kept the focus on living well to help my body to try and heal.
We do have fun and laugh a lot. Recently, we were walking down a busy boulevard in a major city feeling like salmon swimming upstream when Michael noticed that people would look at me with the oxygen candela going into my nose and step aside. He grinned and said, “You go first and clear the way for me!” It sure worked and we had a good laugh.
He makes my coffee and breakfast every morning and for that alone, he should win the best husband award.
He also keeps an eye on me.
After the lung biopsy, I would find him staring at me. If I sneezed, he would ask if we should call the doctor. He would make my lunch before leaving for work and cooked amazing dinners. I would wake up in the night to find him watching me. He said he would watch me sleeping to make sure I was breathing.
In the evening, he will disappear for a few moments then come back into the family room to tell me that he has turned on the TV, turned down the bed and set up my oxygen. He notices when I am done for the day.
When we were traveling this past May, I was enjoying seeing his sister’s family and could have talked for hours. At 9:30, he announced from the stairs that it was time for me to go to bed. I was a bit irritated until I realized that he was right. If I didn’t get to sleep, I would be wrecked for the next few days while traveling which could make me ill.
I am in very good hands. The best, in fact.
Next: Paris
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