Love in the Time of COVID-19

With apologies to Gabriel García Márquez

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First Kisses. Last Kisses

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I remember our first “real” kiss. 1971. On my front porch. I stood on the first step to make up for my lack of height - 5’ 4" to his lanky 6’1” frame. It was a sweet little kiss after our first official date. In the two and a half years previously, a few “friendship kisses” were all we ever shared. A simple peck on the cheek. But that kiss on the porch? That one was different. Intentional. And I remember it made my stomach flutter. A flutter I had not known before. That first kiss. So unforgettable. So innocent. So special. Maui kisses with my Big Kahuna I don’t remember our last kiss. We kissed all the time, but the passionate kisses of two lovers had been derailed by cancer, chemo, and mouth sores. 52 weeks ago I said goodbye to the only man I had kissed passionately in well over 40 years. Someone I kissed every single day. Until... Holiday kisses  That Day.   I didn’t know our last day was going to be our last day. I didn’t kiss him in the ER, when he said, “Hone
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The Last Firsts. Never Alone, Ever Lonely

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·    10 Months   ·    43 weeks   ·    306 Days   ·    7344 Hours   ·    440,640 Minutes Today marks 10 months since That Day.   I’ve rounded the corner, nearing the homestretch toward the finish line of painful “firsts”. And that last turn was a double whammy! George’s birthday last week led me (and Charlie, my goofy Golden and constant sidekick) on a 400+ mile, 24 hour road trip to some of our favorite places. It was just us, and it was exactly what we needed. My Kahuna was with us. We both felt his presence.  Paso Robles, CA. His favorite winery Moonstone Beach, Cambria, CA.  Charlie, my  sidekick Three days later, my Valentine’s Day broken heart was comforted by an extraordinary outpouring of love from my Village. Cards, gifts, messages and dozens of roses, including 50 red roses from Daughter – symbolic of her dad’s last Valentine’s gift to me - representing the number of years we had been in each other’s lives. Showered with Valentine's Day love
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Grieflections 4 - Rats in the Water Softener and Other Self Discoveries

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In 2018 I became a reluctant learner at Widowhood University.  The business of George’s business became my business, along with all of the responsibilities I had happily let him oversee during our 43 "His and Hers" years. On top of the numbing grief and sadness that seemed to be burying me alive, I was faced with closing a law practice, navigating the intricacies of self-employment business taxes, notifying umpteen financial institutions, the State Bar, and numerous unsuspecting clients. Date of death property appraisals. Sales of real estate and my Kahuna’s car. I must say I surprised myself. It was a crash course in self-reliance, and I can proudly say I earned my degree! As it turns out. It’s the mundane, unspectacular tasks that continue to remind me how much I depended on George. Trudging the weekly trash, recycle, and garden waste barrels down our long driveway to the curb on time. Bringing them back up, donning the garden gloves that shield me from the
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