I haven’t written since Ben and Marissa became officially engaged last Sunday. This is indeed an exciting time and finally there’s a chance that Bob and I will someday be grandparents. Of course that’s not a given. They don’t plan to be married until sometime next year or even after, and she’s much more interested in being successful in her career than having babies. For some unknown reason, her clock doesn’t seem to be ticking. But still there is a chance. And if they want to be married and not have children, that’s okay too.
What’s so is that I’m very happy for them. They seem to love each other very much. And like Ben and I said the other day during one of our all too infrequent alone times together, there’s no point in going on like they are without being married.
Of course, there’s another way of looking at that. One of the trainers at my gym has been living with a man for over 35 years and they’ve never married. She jokes about it and forgetting to have children while she’s leading our Saturday morning spin class. But, I wonder if she really feels it’s funny. The reason I don’t think so is that she sometimes calls him her husband. Maybe to mask the fact that she isn't married.
So, this week has been a time of joy – I told my sister and sister-in-law that we’ll have something more to celebrate this weekend besides my nephew's wedding. And, it’s also a time for sadness. Bob’s brother just began chemotherapy for his newly diagnosed lung cancer. But thankfully he’s at the right medical facility now. He fired the doctor’s who botched up his original diagnosis. They almost took out part of his lung, and if hadn’t been for their own surgical mishap, he’d be recovering from open chest surgery today. Now he’s with the best – Sloan Kettering – and he has every confidence that he’ll be treated successfully. I like his attitude already.
And, tomorrow we’ll have the unveiling of my brother’s gravestone. I can’t believe he’s been gone a year already. I can still see him standing on his front walk as we said goodbye the last time I saw him alive. He was so skinny. He had a bandage over his head where his doc removed a skin cancer, he had deep dark circles under his eyes, and his thigh was bleeding – the site of a skin graft (if I recall correctly). The blood was oozing out through his jeans. In other words, he looked terrible. But, I was so glad we came to visit. It was only for two days and one night, but the memory of that short visit two weeks before he died will be with me the rest of my life.
Like my aunt and I said yesterday when I called to wish her a happy 93rd, life is about the good and the bad. That’s what keeps us going.