Without her

I spend the night in the chair
Thinking she’ll be there but she never comes
And then I wake up and wipe the sleep from my eyes
And I rise to face another day without her.

It’s just no good any more
When you walk through the door of an empty room
And you go inside and set a table for one
It’s no fun when you spend the day without her.
(Harry Nilsson, “Without Her”, 1971)

Thirty-five years ago, Kathy and I were living in Illinois. Our daughter was only a few months old. I was in graduate school (a move that didn’t pay off for another twelve years, but I didn’t know that at the time). Kathy was working in a hospital, but even so, we were on food stamps. She was desperately homesick, so when we drove back to Ohio to visit her parents at Easter in 1973, she announced that she and Ann would remain with her parents and that I was to go back to Illinois and finish that degree just as fast as I could.

Harry Nilsson hit it on the head for me back then, and he still does even now.

I sent Kathy and her two sisters to The Ritz for her birthday weekend. They left on Friday and should be back any time now. Turns out this time alone gave me pause. What will it be like if she precedes me in death? I obsessed about that on Friday, leaving work a little late (Kathy hates that) and stopping at the grocery store on the way home (she also hates that).

We have befriended one of the women who work around the cash registers, you know—the one who runs around OKing wine and cigarette sales and fixing problems with the computer. Jackie noticed I was alone and she asked about Kathy, concerned that she was OK. I reassured her that she was out having a wonderful time at the hotel. Jackie patted me on the shoulder and said, “It’s a good time for you to have some ‘alone’ time.” Still, I was dogged by the thought that being alone could be a permanent thing.

Finally, on Saturday morning I shook off those thoughts and concentrated on doing other things that Kathy hates: going to the big box hardware store, going to the local hardware store, working on things around the house that make her nervous, banging on things that needed banging on, generally enjoying myself.

I walked down to the end of our street to the Ariens dealer and put down a deposit on a big honkin’ snow thrower that I’d coveted for years. This thing has six forward speeds, two reverse (why do you need two reverse speeds?), a six horsepower engine and a 24” wide auger. For the cognoscenti, it’s a two stage machine with an overhead valve engine. Bring it on, baby, I’m ready for anything.

Now Kathy is back, tired and happy, full of tales about their adventures in the big city. It seems they thoroughly enjoyed themselves, living it up on the Club floor with fabulous hors d'oeuvres, tempting martinis and a sweeping view of the river. Gosh it’s good to have her home.