Let me count the scars,,, tponetom

[tponetom]

LET ME COUNT THE SCARS,,,, and STARS!

{To Peggy)
.

[[Please bear with my mixed up references to second and third party persons.)

You were 15. Wan and Willowy. A few years later, you are still Wan and Willowy but you have added a little Wobble. I think you are trying to compliment my Wiggle. I truly believe we can wiggle and wobble together for the remaining years.

This may be a strange way to commemorate and celebrate our 61st anniversary but you will agree that it was sort of bloody, along the way, to say the least, if you read on.
I will not chronicle all those operations.
I think of the emotional factors of an operation as being long lasting and I think of the hysterectomy as being the saddest one. The miscarriage of our third child was very sad. No more children, no more propagation.
Remember the time I got smashed in the face with a “J” Bar? Compared to me, Quasimodo was a super model..
You had growths [[lumps), a year apart, on either arm. Both of them were non-malignant. I remember Al’s verbal description of the operation. He said, “Tom, I have never seen a growth material, as hard and tough as those lumps. If she ever gets another one, I will have to use an axe.” Al is/was my boyhood pal. The lumps were benign. Just before the first surgery, I told Al, “ you better not leave her with an ugly scar.” He gave me a scathing smile and said, “You know I am an “artiste.” That arm and then later, the other arm, and still later, two more opposing incisions on her chest above her breasts, all benign, with only the hairline traces of four scars. Al was an artiste!

It was in 1978, while living in the Upper Peninsula, we went to Green Bay, WI. for cosmetic surgery on your eye lids. The only noteworthy thing about that one, was the Doctor He was a ringer for the movie actor/singer, Burl Ives. “Well, Jimmy crack corn.”

Then there is tough and stoic, 1981. Of course you will never forget the ’stomach ache.’ I was working with Mike and staying with him in his house in Detroit It was Saturday, midnight, and I was sleeping when the phone rang. It was Delores, our only neighbor, who lived four miles down the road from us. She was calling from the Manistique Hospital, 40 miles away from our home.
The gall bladder attack was the most excruciating experience you ever had.. How you ever got the strength to drive the four miles to Delores’s camp, I still cannot fathom. Then she drove you to Manistique. I arrived at 7:00 AM. Sunday. By that time, your pain had subsided. Your first question to me was, “ Where is Fang? [[our dog) Who is taking care of her? That gave me a warm feeling of being in second place.

2002. It has been eight years since your craniotomy. You managed that with a flair and an aplomb that few could equal. When it was over, you insisted that there would be no further ‘skullduggery.’ [[Never has another word been so apropos.)
Only you could make a Hospital gown look so regal.
Not too many years ago, I remember saying, ”I am damn sure that I will never tolerate ‘old’ age! And now, today, with great chagrin, I find my ‘toleration’ has flowered into jubilation, because of the following:

An average day…..
I awaken at 6:00 AM. I let you sleep in until 8:30. I awaken you with soft music. I sit on the edge of the bed, near you. I rub your back, very lightly. You purr. I bend down and whisper in your ear, “I am going to give you the most bombastic kiss you have ever had, but Babe,,,,,, you will have to brush your teeth, first! In the same instant, I am moving out of range of her one free arm as she flails it at the closest target she can find. My head!
I get you in a sitting position on the edge of the bed. We wait a minute or two before you challenge verticality. I take each of your hands in mine and gently coax and pull you upright. You waver a bit. I caution you, “If you fall to the floor, you know I cannot pick you up. I will have to get my four-wheel furniture dolly, slip it under you and drag you to the living room!”
You take a tentative step toward the bathroom. I proclaim loudly, “HOUSTON, WE HAVE TAKE-OFF!
I guide you to the lavatory. Your hand tremors are very extreme. I take your toothbrush and put a layer of toothpaste on it. While you brush your teeth, I brush your hair in the back. You then take a comb, wet your fingertips, twist a curl here and there, and ‘voila’. Here comes Heaven, again!
I help her get dressed. She is still semi-comatose.
We walk, slowly, to the living room. She asks me about the ‘mouth to mouth’ I had promised. I feign exasperation. I say, “You keep forgetting, that if I kiss you standing up, you may faint, from excitement. And also, I may faint if you didn’t brush your teeth too well.” I immediately protect my head when two flailing arms attack me in Windmill fashion.
Her morning vitamins, B-12, Biotin, Calcium, and half an aspirin seem to do no harm. I bring her a cocktail to swallow them down. It looks like a “Screwdriver’ but it is MetaMucil. She does not swish or wash the pills down. She teases them the same way she eats ice cream. A teaspoon full of ice cream takes her about two minutes to consume. She just can’t bear to part with it.
The cereal bowls are ready. Everyday, the same. A mix of Cheerios and Bran Flakes, banana, raisins, grapes and milk.
Her itch problem has evaporated but we are still very cautious. Two showers a week and a lotion job every day to keep her body moisturized. So far, so good. Nearly four years of agony, subdued.

INTERMISSION

I will continue this ’love affair” in a few days but I do have an ulterior motive in writing it. The message within might prove to be provocative to some of the 50 and older members.

[Bobl]

t [[and Peggy):

We are moved, again, by the ongoing story of a great love affair.
So many young people today are in need of role models. You would be the best!

It would be wonderful to meet you both...

[barnesfoto]

Only you could make a Hospital gown look so regal

I would only add a note to Peggy:

Dear Peggy,

You have probably figured out by now that you married an amazing man.

Congratulations, you are very, very lucky.

Of course, from reading Tom's descriptions of Peggy, I would have to add this post-script to Tom:

Dear Tom,

You have probably figured out by now that you married an amazing woman.

Congratulations. You are very, very lucky.

[gazhekwe]

This is a good message for the future. I hope we have chosen our partners as well as you and Peggy did. Anxiously awaiting the Stars.

[reddog289]

As always another great post from TP.