“She Ain’t Heavy, She’s My Lexi”* Part 2

scaled (Photo credit: wader)

After you read the title, you may be humming a tune…I was. Because I sang that song all day, I wanted YOU to enjoy/suffer too. You are welcome.

After writing and posting “Weight Watchers https://hibernationnow.wordpress.com/2013/01/30/weight-watchers-for-dogs/ For Dogs”* Part 1, yesterday, my husband and I sat down to a humble dinner. Lexi had her (small) portion of dog food and hubby and I had scrambled eggs with cheese, ham and toast. With kids in college, dinner is SO much easier. I had a few bites left over and of course Lexi looked at me lovingly. Those big brown eyes pooling into liquid love, I stroked her red-auburn face. Sometimes, Lexi, with her coloring can look like a fox or a deer.

Then, I remembered that tomorrow was, the “weigh-in” and Lexi’s dreams of leftovers were over, “Sorry, Lex, not tonight, we have to go to Stephanie’s tomorrow”(emphasis on Stephanie) but I did save it for her and said if all went well, I would give it to her after the weigh in. They had made such a fuss that I had taken it seriously. I mean, honestly, it’s like umm, some people, yeah, people hiding that Almond Joy or Kit Kat in the back of their bedside drawer for when they really want it, hypothetically of course. I mean, I really wouldn’t know, why would I? Right?

We drive to the vet and for some unexplained reason Lexi adores going there. I have no idea why. Callie, my first dog, used to hate it. Lexi, drags me there (literally) and to my embarrassment pulls me so hard that we pass the vet’s office door and they all see me through the glass door being dragged by Lexi who I could NOT control. I was mortified. When I finally enter, the Doctor, who I refer to as Slick, and the office staff are laughing and making remarks, and I just keep my head low. The Vet says “Having fun out there?” and they all giggle while I decide to inspect the zipper on my winter jacket very carefully.

Lexi is incredibly strong and strong-willed and all the things I taught her in the past, seem to have been forgotten. Enough said. They take Lexi back and she is walking like an angel (NOT pulling the vet technician), I buy the heart worm medicine and the receptionist calls back to have them weigh Lexi for the correct pill (done by the dog’s weight.)HA! The moment I’ve been waiting for.

Lydia says she weighs 35 lbs and she’s GAINED 10 lbs in a month.. WHAT? Not a chance. I know my dog. She is sleek, not an ounce of fat, in fact she may be so skinny she couldn’t be a super model anymore (okay, that ‘s a little extreme.) Most of you know, I’m not demure in situations where I think my dog or family member, friend or I have been wronged. (I’m a Libra) I raise my voice and say “That can’t be, You MUST be wrong.” Stephanie comes out, THE STEPHANIE, Weight Watcher Leader For Dogs and I said, “Stephanie, she was 45 lbs. last time.” ‘Oh, Steph said, casually, “I guess it wasn’t recorded but she looks really good.”

The excitement and pride I felt were gone. Lexi didn’t even get a sticker or a lollipop (oh right that used to be my kids when they were little) I didn’t get one either. They didn’t even care enough to write down the last weight?! I told Lexi we both had done a great job, took two, okay three, low-fat biscuits from the jar, (for future training) and headed home, AND she didn’t even pull me (hard.) I warmed up the leftover eggs from the night before and the toast and gave it to Lexi. I don’t care what the vet’s office thought, I know she deserved a treat.

*WW for dogs, a Parody*She Ain’t Heavy, She’s My Lexi*Parody

Clarence Clemons, Rest In Peace

Image by micheleluconi via Flickr

It’s Father’s Day Eve, Graduation Day Eve, my son is at parties celebrating, my daughter is out eating frozen yogurt from the new local hangout. I’m home, feeling alone, and I just read that Clarence Clemons died. He really did die, I somehow thought that would be impossible. I don’t know why, I guess he had been through so much that I thought he would kick ass and fight back, but he couldn’t.

I’m shocked. I’m not sure why I am feeling this sad about someone I didn’t know. Some of my friends are Bruce Springsteen groupies. I’m a fan but not like they are, not even close.  If I feel lonely with my husband’s booming voice in the telephone and both kids having fun, how do they feel? They probably feel like me times 100,000. My friends Claudine and Flynn have an awesome photograph of beautiful, sweet-souled Clarence in the middle of the two of them smiling widely. I told them they should frame it and that I want a copy. Please.

These friends MADE me go to a Bruce Springsteen concert and I was so glad that I went. It truly was an experience. Springsteen is an artist like no other, that man can work a crowd like nobody I have ever seen. Well, except maybe Neil Diamond but that is such a different category altogether…..Clarence, you looked like a gentle, sweet soul; you looked like a cuddly big teddy bear and you radiated such great energy and love. You were an unbelievable artist who can’t be replaced. I can’t imagine a Bruce Springsteen concert without you. Can anybody? Rest In Peace.

I’d Be Lost Without You

Image by cfinke via Flickr

Every morning I am greeted with a smile, a hug and a freshly brewed cup of coffee. He even sniffs the milk before he pours, knowing I have a super-sensitive nose and will gag if I even think something has gone sour. Today there was a small fruit cup with blueberries, strawberries and cantaloupe, sliced with love from a steady, beautiful hand. My hands shake so he carries the full cup of coffee to me, so I don’t feel bad and so there will be no spills on our fake linoleum Spanish tiles in the kitchen. In the middle of the night our feet or hands search for each other for reassurance and comfort. I don’t even mind when he snores loudly, though I do punch him lightly in the arm. Without protest he turns over. I used to say “turn over” but with our marriage code I have shortened the phrase to “apple” as in apple turnover and he knows exactly what I mean.

We have our own language, he and I, built on twenty-five years of togetherness, love and friendship. We are each others’ best friend.  I am not saying we have always had the perfect marriage because no marriage is perfect. We have had our rough years, our tough times but we struggle through it together, knowing that home is not just a place but a feeling. I sat through a Gordon Lightfoot concert for him, he came to see Neil Diamond for me. Sometimes he blurt things out that are supposed to be secret; sometimes I reveal my feelings when I shouldn’t. Sam Adams for him, Diet Coke for me. His Scotch is my Yoo-hoo, his dark chocolate is my milk chocolate.

I want our children to see that our marriage is strong, loving, yet not without flaws. I want them to know that marriage, like any relationship, needs work, a strong commitment and loving companionship. We help each other when difficult situations arise, and in life, they always do. When we were first married, we went through the infertility process together; it breaks many couples apart yet it brought us closer together. We share pain and joy, I am more emotional, he is more practical. We balance each other like a delicate balancing toy, sometimes tipping over, always able to right itself to startling precision.We try to laugh even during hard times. He has taught me to be less pessimistic; I have taught him that it is okay to be vulnerable.

Through the 25 years of our relationship we have grown closer together even after we have grown apart. He likes skiing, I like sunshine, he plays racquetball, I need to write. For a little while we thought it was odd that we did not share activities in common but we adjusted and compromised. We trust each other so that if he wants to go skiing, he goes with a friend. If I need sunshine in the middle of a gray, cold winter, I have flown to Florida for a few days. We can be independent of each other yet always happy to reconnect. We share the joy of traveling together, France, Australia, Amsterdam,  Aruba, Rhode Island. We held hands when we snorkeling on our engagement trip in Hawaii, my most favorite memory. While he would prefer to stomp through old ruins, I would rather walk on the beach finding seashells; we compromise.

He is an atheist, I believe in G-d. We have two amazing children, a boy, 18 and a girl, 16. We share their triumphs and their pain; we help each other deal with our ever-changing reality. If the children attack us, as teenagers often do, we immediately look at each other. The silent language of marriage is a subtle one, but we speak it fluently.

I fear the day that one of us is left alone. I pray it won’t be for a very long time yet thinking about it frightens me. He is the one person that I trust with my life, that I can count on without question. He feels the same way about me. We know the best and the worst of each other and accept and acknowledge both. If I had to, I know deep down, that I could survive without him; I just don’t want to.