Sunday, December 31, 2006

Happy New Year, Ed Sclier

This is Ed gardening. That's Izzy watching
This is Ed working.
Notice the stuffed animals in the background.
Ed designed them.

This is Ed on his 64th birthday.

It was his last.

We had no idea he was sick.

I Remember...

People often ask did Ed have any bad habits. I mean, they say, *they like to pry*, c'mon, Linda, you make the guy sound perfect. Give.

Oh, my.
Oh, no.
I assure you. Ed was not perfect.

I'll let you in on a little secret.
Ed did have one annoying habit that if I let it, it could make me nutz. -- But --
Only if I let it.
Every morning, first thing, Ed would go into the kitchen, to take his vitamin.
The paper cup dispenser hung off a wall over the sink. The vitamin jar rested on the counter to the right. A container of orange juice rested on a shelf in the refrigerator.
Anyway, Ed had this daily routine --
Pull down paper cup.
Place cup on counter.
Open refrigerator door.
Remove OJ.
Rest container on counter.
Open vitamin jar.
Remove one thumb-sized pill.
Replace cap on vitamin jar.
Return jar to counter.
Pop pill in mouth.
Wash down with juice -- Juice poured from container.
It wasn't the vitamin Ed took each morning. Or, the way he swallowed it. Or, the precise method he used to take it.
It was the speckled sticky slimy mess Ed made pouring liquid from a half-gallon container into a a tiny paper cup that tried my patience.
Ed was a splasher.
In the process of taking his vitamin, pouring juice from one container to another, orange juice would splash onto the kitchen counter and sometimes it dribbled onto the kitchen floor.
Ed always remembered to wipe the counter with a sponge, and he'd even wipe the floor with a paper towel. But, somehow he never got it all.
When it was my turn to go into the kitchen, my bare feet would stick to the sticky mess and if I placed papers on the kitchen counter, they were blotted in orange juice and usually they stuck in three places.
I never complained.
Swear to God.
Never.
God knows what 13 hairbrushes, 14 lipsticks, one hairdryer, and two electric curling irons resting on a counter in the upstairs bathroom were doing to His morning routine.
By Ed's actions *his in-actions*, I learned how to get along.
It is what made our marriage rich and rewarding.
It is 943 days since Ed's death.
943 days my feet didn't stick to the kitchen floor.
943 days I didn't need to wipe the counter of splattered orange juice.
What I'd give for one teensy splatter of orange juice on my kitchen floor.
Happy New Year, Ed Sclier, wherever you are. I love you!
:)L

2 comments:

  1. That was a beautifully poignant News Year's greeting, Linda. How brightly your love still shines. How well I "get" your longing for a floor made sticky by a teensy splatter of orange juice.

    I enjoy what you daily choose to put into your Griefcase. Thank you for your daily gifts of enlightenment and for your persistent and consistent inspiration to your readers.

    ReplyDelete
  2. To Branch:

    Thank you for writing. Thank you for cheering me on.

    Best wishes to you.

    :)Linda

    ReplyDelete

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