Sunday, April 10, 2011

Coming Soon to an FBI "Most Wanted" Poster ...

My boss told me this morning that it’s time for me to write another FLOG. She’s President (although she prefers the title "High Priestess") of SourPuss Press, my new publishing company, and I do what she says.  For the record, my official title is "Copy Boy" (although I prefer "Schlepper"). But when I sat down at the keyboard, I developed a case of blogck (bloggers block).  Today is April 9 … the six month anniversary of the death of my first and only wife of almost 50 years. Several people called me today to ask how I was feeling. I’m feeling great, thank you.

My children and friends have been my rock.  My extraordinary, mega-talented granddaughter, Izzy, has been my redeemer. I have to be careful when I open my mouth about her, knowing there may be others within earshot who also have grandchildren. At this point in my life I can’t afford to lose friends. It seems to me that a funeral with nobody in attendance except the deceased wouldn’t be much fun.  Let me clarify now for any of you with bruised egos over your comparatively ordinary grandchildren, who subsequently may be waffling about attending my funeral - there will definitely be cupcakes.  But have a snack in the mean time - I'm not planning on checking out anytime soon.

A wonderful thing happened last week. Two mothers, Susan (from Albuquerque) and Kim (Little Rock) came to visit Ruth and Izzy in Scottsdale with their respective children, Teo and Isaac.  Teo, Izzy and Isaac spent the first six months of their lives together in a Vietnamese orphanage, during which time, Ruth, Susan and Kim developed a friendship via their shared wait to become adoptive moms.   These two wonderful women met my daughters, Ruth and Debbie, on the trip to Vietnam in 2007.   Watching their three Godsends interact nearly three and a half years later was an indescribable experience. 

The pleasure of sharing the world with my first and only grandchild (who came into my life when I was 70-years old) is beyond words, even for a wordsmith. Izzy is the apple of my eye … the cat’s meow… Queen of the Kingdom ... my eagle shot to Phil Mickelson's double bogey.

Since Izzy Thu Thi Stern came into my life December 24, 2007, many people who have met her have said “Isn’t she lucky that Ruth adopted her and gave her a wonderful life.” My response has been from that day, “aren’t we lucky that this little miracle came into our lives.”  And I said that after the little miracle painted a leather ottoman with nail polish.

I haven’t written about her publicly until today because I decided six months ago to give myself a half year before assessing how I’m doing, having lost the love of my life.  Two months after Margaret died, Izzy, then three years and seven months old, said to me, “Bubba, (she calls me that) it’s hard not having a partner.”  I responded, “Grandma was my partner for 50 years … now you’re my partner.”

She agreed.