There is me and there is me

There are two of me, the inside and the outside. The outside me looks normal. I smile and actually laugh on occasion, I have normal conversations, I participate in some activities, I go to the occasional lunch with friends, I watch and cheer mightily for my Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics and Bruins. I interact with my doggies a lot. I go to the gym and have even lost some weight. These are all good things.

Then there's the inside me. Up until recently, the inside me was totally out of control. The anguish, the incredible pain, the heartache was just more than I could bear. The sadness would wash over me like an enormous wave and I felt as if I would drown in it. I couldn't come up for air. But little by little, his voice would come through, at first allowing me to go through the pain for however long it might take and then, in soft whispers, I could hear him in my head telling me it was okay to begin to let go of the anger. In my head thoughts of all the times he embraced me, encircling me with his arms and hugging me close started to become almost real. I remembered what that felt like since he did it every day of our life together.

I have to think what an unprecedented gift it was to be hugged and embraced with extraordinary love through such a long love story.  No matter what anyone else thinks, I have to be luckiest person on the face of the earth to have been so loved by such an exceptional human being. And though I will always mourn for my Beloved, I can now bask in his love as those memories wash over me time and time again. And there is an added bonus: our sons. They are two most extraordinary young men who personify everything good about their dad, from his twinkling eyes, to his sense of humor, his intelligence, his kindness! What proud parents we always were.

On July 3, 1966 we clasped our hands and guided each other through life with unending love, kindness, laughter, compassion, intelligence and happiness. What a way to steer through an over five decades-long love affair. That love affair keeps on going in my heart, in my head, in my memories as they sustain me and help me to become almost whole once again.

Copyright © 2018. Reisa Sterling Miller. All Rights Reserved.

A short homage to my brother, Ed.

This is long overdue but I have to say "Thanks, Eddie." Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  It was bashert (fated or predestined in Yiddish) that Warren and I would enjoy 55 years of love. And you, my dear brother, put all that in motion. It was a wonderful coincidence that you and Warren were fraternity brothers at UMass. You "fixed us up" for Pledge Weekend. I was still in high school and not very savvy around college kids. It was a nice and interesting weekend even though it was a little awkward on my part.

It would be two years later that Warren and I ran into each other back at the TEP house (Tau Epsilon Phi). I had changed considerably and I was now a college student. And, obviously, sparks flew. He asked me out and, after that first actual date, I immediately knew I loved him. Funny how love happens. It was that quick for both of us.

So, it was bashert that you went to UMass, that you became a TEP brother, that Warren followed that same path and my Beloved and I spent the next 55 years so completely in love.

My brother has been gone since 1988 and I know I thanked him for bringing us together but I wanted to publicly acknowledge the role he played in our happiness. Warren and I often reminisced about how we met. Ed, you did a good thing and I will forever love you for being the catalyst of our 55 year love affair.

Copyright © 2018. Reisa Sterling Miller. All Rights Reserved.

From tears to laughter

I don't get tired of crying. Whether it's tears just rolling down my face or the tears are copious enough to make me gasp, the end result is the same. It seems as natural to me as blinking. The tears are an ending of a small portion of my day when my thoughts have gone to that place. And, willingly or not,  I go to that place every day. The events that bring up that place are always there, buried most of the time deep inside but not always.

I've been looking through a lot of old photos, a few every couple of days just to bring those wonderful and funny memories to the forefront, even though they're in my head all the time. Sometimes the photos and their accompanying memories elicit sobs but many times the reaction is total laughter.

The thing about laughter was that when I laughed, it made Warren giggle. When something struck me funny, my laughter would bubble up and burst not only from my mouth but from the very bottom of my feet, or as my dad used to say, "from the bottom of my pedeshvas." I don't know if that was a Yiddish word or something my dad made up but he used it to describe my laughter.

Anyway, when I laughed, I couldn't stop. Most of the time I laughed so damn long that Warren had to try to calm me down. Sometimes my laughter would continue for 15-20minutes, with me gasping for breath. When I finally did stop, it wasn't for long. It would bubble up again and again. My laughter was one of the things that Warren loved about me. No need to tickle, just crack a joke or a pun and off I'd go!

So, when I'm reduced to tears and sobs, I search for the memories that will bring up the laughter. And it's the laughter that helps me keep my sanity.

Copyright © 2018. Reisa Sterling Miller. All Rights Reserved.