Beauty.
The time I took her to a beauty parlor downtown NYC in the theatre district near Radio City. When I met her after the complete makeover, I was dazzled and flabbergasted. I knew she was beautiful but this was another level of beauty. I am not sure how old she was but she was probably in her late thirties.
Dancing with Dee.
Dancing with My wife was always a love affair. She loved street affairs with dancing bands. She loved dancing so much that literally she would almost dance with anyone who asked her. But I truly believed she loved dancing with me because I was an experienced dancer from my days in the latin neighborhood on Kelly St. in the Bronx. One of the most memorable was at a street Bazaar. The band was a latin one, Cuban or Puerto Rican. As we danced, I noted that people were watching us in admiration of our moves and skill. As we were finishing, I couldn't help but notice the look of love in her eyes as she smiled at me. It was one of the most memorable moments of my life!
An evening event.
It was early evening, not yet completely dark. We were on our way to an event of some kind. When we were close to our destination, I began looking for a place to park. I spotted one a moderate distance away. I was not inclined to park immediately since that would cause my lovely wife, wearing high heel shoes, to have to walk the full distance. So I dropped her off a short distance from our destination and proceeded to return to the selected parking spot.
As I was maneuvering to park and watching her at the same time, with the early evening moonlight engulfing her and highlighting her frame and mature beauty, enhanced by the arrogance of her stance, tapping impatiently, and thus the projection of a self assured lady (she was in her late forties, shapely, lovely and without any noticeable signs of aging), I was suddenly overcome with an irrational fear that if I didn't hurry, some depraved, vicious or otherwise over awed person eyeing this vision, would suddenly appear and sweep her away forever. Needless to say, I parked in a hurry and almost ran to join her in an otherwise not particularly eventful evening.
Final days on Alabama St.
It was late evening and Dee was just sitting in the living room and looking wan. I tried to cheer her up by dancing to a Spanish rhythm. She smiled but didn't otherwise respond. As bedtime approached, I thought of how little physical loving we now did because of our aches, pains, physical limitations and doomsday apprehensions. It occurred to me that a simple loving kiss at bedtime, while she was in bed, could still be something special. The first night she was more surprised than anything but subsequently when I bend over to kiss her goodnight her eyes and expression told me what a simple bedtime kiss could mean.
In the 65 years of our love affair, actions more than anything displayed our love but one evening as we approached bedtime and the date of our leaving San Francisco for Palm Springs, and the inevitable, approached, Dee very casually said "I Love You".
Dee’s final hours.
It was late Friday evening February 2, 2018. The hospice caretaker or nurse had left hours earlier. In the bedroom shared by Dee and I. Dee was struggling in extreme discomfort. Tony, Tammy (his wife) and I were attempting to satisfy Dee’s every need. Referring to her adjustable medical bed she pleaded: “move me up” ...“move me down”..”move me” ...”move me” ...” move me”. Again and again, she moaned “my stomach hurts” and began spitting up a dark blood like substance. As the day ended she quietly rolled to her left side and placing both her hands under the left side of her face, closed her eyes and appeared to be falling asleep. Being past bedtime Tony and Tammy left the room and I prepared myself for bed. I kissed her good night and did not receive the usual response. Within the first two early morning hours of observation my heart no longer could deny what my brain knew. Demaris Bonifacia Thelemaque née Lopez, my darling, loving and lovable wife of 65 years, my only romantic love, mother of our 4 sons and 2 daughters, the center of my social life and physical activities was dead. I could not cry for fear of falling apart or minimizing the remaining wonderful family that is ours. I intend to and will continue to remember that although she was only 18 years of age, I was blessed to have been chosen by her to spend our lives together.
Finale: For me, then and forever, leaves will be a little less green, the sky a little less blue, the sun a little less bright, joy a little less heartfelt, except when I think of my love, my wife and the life we created and shared.