February 11, 2005

• Yesterday was the perfect day.  Anthony and I were able to walk after lunch without coats, the sun was shining so hard.

  
  

  He was an hour late, which is one of the things I love about him:  he’s like me.  Because it’s a two-hour drive to get to each other’s houses the time we plan on and the time we leave are never the same.  And I do so much better with people who are flexible about time.

  
  

  I’m still not sure why he came.  It appears he just wanted to see me.  I love being with him but now that he has a girlfriend it’s a little strange not to take his arm when we’re on a walk.  At lunch he wanted to know if I was wearing a wig.  I’d taken that extra hour to blow-dry my hair and put makeup on.  W would have said, “You look different.”  Anthony said, “You look really good.” 

  
  

  And I suspect that’s the reason he came:  to see if I’ve metastasized.  He doesn’t remember my youngest one’s name but he remembers exactly how old she is.  It’s almost like he’s waiting.  When we were dating — And that’s misleading because we weren’t having sex – I had just started chemo.  I remember the phone call.

  
  

  It’s Melissa and she’s having lunch with Anthony, an old boyfriend of hers.  

  
  

  Me:  “Hi, whose phone is this?”

  
  

  Melissa:  “Anthony’s.  You remember me talking about the guy who lives at the Beach?  Well, actually he lives in Utah.”

  
  

  Me:  “Oh, yeah.” 

  
  

  Melissa:  “He wants to meet you.  So why don’t you come over.  We’re at Chili’s.”

  
  

  Me:  “Wow, your timing is perfect.  I just got back from getting my hair done.  You won’t even recognize me.  It’s falling out so fast I had her cut it all off.  It looks pretty stylish though.”

  
  

  Melissa:  “So come on over.”

  
  

  Me:  “Did you tell him about the cancer?”

  
  

  Melissa:  “No.  Why should I?  Hurry up.”

  
  

  Me:  “Okay, but before I get there you need to tell him what the deal is.”

  
  

  Melissa:  “Okay, bye.” 

  
  

  And I could see when I got there she hadn’t.  But once I got a look at him I was kind of glad she didn’t.  Great hair, great eyes, perfect clothes, funny, smart, extremely kind, and very human.  The only thing was his mouth.  It didn’t look good.  It didn’t look weak.  And it wasn’t until I knew him better that I figured it out.  Bad things came out of his mouth sometimes and that’s why it looked that way.  He’s a litigator and he tells lies.  He doesn’t think of them as lies.  He thinks it’s creating a different slant on things, just like my ex. 

  
  

  What I liked most about him was that he had a similar attitude towards life.  He had recently been operated on for a benign tumor at the base of his skull, right where it meets the spinal chord.  He was extremely lucky to be walking.  He had a lot of residual problems with neuropathy, which I started having when I took taxol.  We shared the same joy for life and didn’t sweat the small stuff.  He was the person who made the biggest difference in shaping my recovery. 

  
  

  He was my life coach.  He called me every day to check on me.  He knew about stocks and he owned a title company so he advised me about the market and helped me buy my first house.  Actually Melissa and I bought that first house together.  She found it for me.  This is the realtor friend I don’t see any more.  This is getting too long.  Later.

  
  

   

  
  

  
  

   

  • 11:25 am
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