Wednesday, January 03, 2007

My Mourning Joy - January 3, 2007

Today is Wednesday, January 3, 2007.
Weatherman promises temperatures to rise to 55 degrees 20 miles north from where the World Trade Center used to be.
Imagine. And this is winter. In New York!
I sit at my desk contemplating my mourning joy, writing my JOY-nal entry, as bright sunlight streams through a curtained window. Izzy snores loudly at my feet. And Tux laps a saucer of milk placed neatly along side my computer screen.
Memories of a past life flood my brain.
Ed was in sales. He worked for a Chinese company based in Long Island City that manufactured 'plush' toys.
Every January we traveled to Hong Kong for the Annual Toy Fair. Of course, I had to work for my air fare and lodging. But working with stuffed animals -- known as "plush" in the toy trade -- hardly seemed like work at all.
I felt like a kid in a giant toy store.
Everything my fingers touched was huggable and fun. I liked to call it "Eye Candy."
There were 4' rag dolls, light as marshmallows, I straightened and hung on the wall -- After I danced around the hotel room with one;
Giant teddy bears, soft as cotton, I plumped and fluffed -- Before I kissed them on the nose;
And I can't forget stuffed snow people, the ones Ed designed -- I fluffed and brushed them with a small nail brush until their white fur stood unwrinkled.
We would shove everything inside large canvas bags -- Think compact car size -- And as our backs bent under the weight, we'd drag, carry, tote, and lug them from New York security, a 22 hour plane ride, through customs in Hong Kong.
We'd work until our fingers bled, setting up shelves, unpacking, marking, tagging, and preparing each plush item for appointments with visiting vendors.
I don't know what I enjoyed more, traveling with Ed, working at Ed's side, playing with the plush, or taking a break to scour the streets for noodle soup for lunch, always stopping to snap a picture, perhaps a clock tower overlooking Nathan Road in Kowloon, to share with Edward later. Edward was devoted to his work and me.
Oh how I love the way that beautiful man loved me back.
Ahhh, mourning joy!
Bless you Edward Sclier. Where ever you are!

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