All those photos!

Tuesday night was John's celebration of life, held at his favorite bar. I was not very involved with the planning. It was Gregory's show. I helped him with his eulogy and the text invite, but beyond that, he handled it -- and did a lovely job.

When I was in the rideshare headed over, I realized I didn't really want to go. A party didn't feel appropriate ... for me, that is. I knew it would be exactly what John would have wanted. I wasn't sure how many people I'd know. John spent so much time at that bar and I hadn't been there in a year, when we celebrated his birthday. Would it be filled with his bar buddies? What would we talk about?

As soon as I entered the bar, I was overwhelmed. There I was, over and over and over again. Big video screens throughout the bar showed me and John exchanging gifts in front of the tree, John and me triumphantly raising our fists after riding The Hay Baler at Great America, me and John performing a duet of "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" at his 40th birthday party (29 years ago), John and me in that very bar a year ago as we celebrated his birthday and watched the Cubs-Yankees ...

Unbeknownst to me, Gregory and John's Cousin Lori had discovered a trove of photo albums that John's brothers had missed when they went through his personal belongings. While I wasn't in all the photos, I was honestly shocked that I was in at least 40%. Because of the way the video screens rotated their content, I was always looking at my own face, right there with John's, beginning in 1981 and up until 2023. 

"Of course," Gregory said when I commented on how prominent I was. "You were one of his favorite people." I was moved.

Then a middle-aged man in a cap (probably to cover his bald head) came up and said, "Gal! What are you drinking?" I told him I'd like a cranberry juice and vodka and when he ran off to get it, I told Gregory I didn't remember him. 

"That's Sebastian," Gregory said, reminding me that we saw Diana Ross together at The Chicago Theater together, back in 2014. I couldn't believe he remembered me! When he returned with my drink, we reminisced about that night and the Thanksgiving we all spent together. About how John was so good at bringing like-minded people together. Throughout the evening, Sebastian and I kept drifting back to one another. I was touched he remembered me so fondly and vividly, and it made me happy that John shared his life and his friends with me.

Then there was Steve. Looking older and more frail than I recalled him, he said, "Gal! There's someone I want you to meet!" He introduced me to Monica, the "original mother" of the skinny cat who brought us together. Back in the 80s, Monica was worried about Steve who had just broken up with his lover. They went to the Anti-Cruelty Society together and she convinced Steve to adopt the cat for company, to cheer him up. He'd never had a cat before and didn't know what to expect, but he certainly didn't expect this one. She was positively kinetic and he couldn't handle her. John to the rescue! He told Steve that I was a Crazy Cat Lady, that I had a way, that I could make it work and give that cat a good home. I renamed her Wilma and we were together more than a dozen years. Again, because of John.

I went to the bar and ordered a second drink. The bartender, a girl of about 25, told me it was on the house. I went around to John's regular stool and left $25 on the bar as a tip in his honor/memory. We were told it was a cash bar, and if she was giving us drinks for free it was costing her money. She saw what I did, came around the bar and gave me a hug. "I remember you from last summer! John was so happy you enjoyed the game here on his birthday!" 

Then the manager came over, extending his hand. "Where's your Anthony Rizzo jersey?" he asked. He said he was happy he was the one who took the picture of my and John together here at the bar last summer, one that kept popping up on the video screen. I thanked him for that last photo of us together.

Toward the end of his life, John could be so annoyed with me. It hurt and confused me. Intellectually I figured his irascibility was age, illness and discomfort, but emotionally it hurt.

Tuesday night I learned what I guess I knew all along: John loved me. I was as big a part of his life as he was mine. Gregory was right, I was one of his favorite people.

I'm so glad I went to the celebration of John's life, after all. I've been so angry at him for not taking care of himself, so angry at him for dying, so bereft with missing him that I missed something very important.

He loved me. As much as I loved him.

Gregory said he was looking into having all those photos burned into a CD for me. I hope he does. That would mean a great deal to me.

 

Photo by Harper Sunday on Unsplash