Arena Alley

Ashley,

You're my best friend in the world and I need to update you with something important. I tried calling several times, but with the time difference we always seem to miss each other so I decided to just write it all down. I'm sorry for sending such a lengthy email but I really need to get this off my chest.

Before I get into that, let me tell you how happy I am for you! I saw the picture of your baby bump that you posted and you look adorable! I definitely want to be Auntie Joanne. I don't care if we aren't really related, you and I are closer than sisters! I sent a little care package and as soon as you find out if he will be a boy or girl I'll be putting together a box of baby clothes that you can have. I still have all of my kids clothes all packed away.

How is Randy adjusting to the idea? The last time we spoke on the phone you said he was scared. Don't worry, they are all scared until they hold their babies for the first time. Actually, I have to correct that. Most are scared.

Dale's giggled like a little schoolgirl when I told him I was pregnant. He was so excited! Even when we were first starting dating in high school he would often talk about his desire to be a father. I think it stemmed from all that trouble he had with his mother. That woman is a complete bitch. I'm not just saying that because she is an "in-law", she really is evil. Not only did she abandon Dale was he was little, she made his life miserable once they rekindled their relationship.

Dale was actually really excited when he had the opportunity to get to know his mother again. It had been thirty years since he had spent any real time with her. He wanted the kids to know their grandmother and, like any boy, they want to know their mothers. He never had that as he was growing up. It was always a phone call here or a letter there. There was never any real quality time spent together.

When he wanted to start a relationship with her again I was totally for it. I thought he should spend time with his mother and the kids should get to know their grandmother. That decision was a horrible mistake.

That woman is beyond disgusting. She is the most selfish person I think I have ever come across. She abandoned her son when he was four, left her husband and ran of to Las Vegas. From the look of her I wouldn't be surprised if she had been a junkie at some point. Her skin looked horrible and she was always nervous and twitchy.

Anyway, I regretted encouraging Dale to pursue a relationship with her. Every time she saw him, she only wanted his money. It was always a legitimate excuse at the beginning, she had forgotten her wallet or she had to repair her car. Eventually she just started coming out and asking for cash.

One day we went to lunch with his mother and she pulled her usual routine of asking for money. Dale was really quiet in the car on the way home. When we pulled into the driveway, the tears started streaming down his cheeks. When I asked him what was wrong it took him quite a while to respond.

Through the tears he said, "I just realized I'll never be loved by my mother. She's never told me she loved me, not even once. I think...no...I know that I'm only worth two hundred dollars to her, because that is what she asks for every time I see her."

We sat in the car and cried together and I held him as tight as I could.

The next time she called, he said he would be happy to go to lunch with her but he was no longer able to give her any money. That started a huge argument and she called Dale every horrible name she could think of. He remained firm, ignored all of her guilt trips, and just explained to her that it would no longer be possible to give her money. I was in the other room and I could still hear her screaming at him through the phone.

When all was said and done he simply ended the call, stared at the phone and said, "Goodbye Mom."

He was right. She never called again.

I was so proud of him for being firm, but I also felt guilty for encouraging the relationship. For the next few weeks I tried really hard to make it up to him. I made him his favorite meals and gave him plenty of back massages. I cuddled him often and told him how much I loved him. While I knew it wouldn't replace what he had lost, I wanted to do something to ease his pain. At least the bad experience brought us closer together.

Dale used to say, "Our family may be small, but we are good at it." He rededicated himself to me and the kids after the fight with his mother. Not that he wasn't dedicated before, but I saw him try even harder. His family may have grown smaller but that wasn't going to prevent him from being the best husband and father that he could be.

He often would leave sweet notes around the house for me to find. He would give me full body massages once a week, and there were always plenty of fresh flowers in the house. He always tried to help out around the house. He would even take me to my girly movies without complaining. We made love often and it was intense and beautiful. I fell more and more in love with him every day.

Dale talked to his boss and changed his schedule around so he could pick up the kids every day from school. He had to sacrifice and get up at 4:00 am every morning, but he did it willingly so he could see his children as soon as they walked out of school.

After picking up the kids, they would either walk to the park and work on homework or they would walk to that ice cream shop over on Charles Ave. Dale was never happier. He loved being there for his kids, and we were getting closer together. It was the best time of my life.

Until the day the police showed up on my doorstep.

I hate that day.

I'll always hate that day...

I want to thank you again for everything you did during that time. The way you dropped everything and flew across the country and sat with me in the hospital all night. The way you held my hand for hours on end as the doctors did everything they could for Dale. The way you held me when I didn't want to be held, even though it was the best thing for me. The way you sat next to me as the doctors came out of surgery, stood around us, and told us...

He was gone...

Your help at the funeral and at the house afterward was phenomenal and appreciated more than words can describe. I was such a mess.

I don't think I ever told you about much I appreciated that you stayed with us an extra week. I just couldn't be alone and you put your entire life on hold to help with the kids and look after me. I will be forever in your debt, my sweet Ashley.

I still remember the night I was crying in my sleep and you came up and crawled into bed with me and cuddled me all night just so I wouldn't feel so alone. You were my security blanket when the world around me was crumbling before my very eyes. You kept me warm when I felt so empty inside. You kept me whole when I felt like I was cracking and shattering into a million pieces.

After losing Dale, I was just so...lost. He was my whole world had turned black and it has been so hard to be without him. Every time I look in Tommy's eyes, I see his daddy's beautiful smile and his beautiful soul. There are so many times when I look across the room and that little boy is looking back at me with the same expression his Daddy used to use. It is almost as if Tommy is Dale's little clone.

Stacy has fragments of his complex personality. The other day she was telling me a story and for a moment, I closed my eyes and just listened. She tells a story exactly like her father used do. The voice is obviously different, but the style, inflection, and pace are all Dale. I couldn't help but smile to myself when she was rambling on about the new arch rival that she has. Why is the sixth grade so complicated?

Those kids actually deserve better. I turned into a horrible mom.

For those first few months, I could barely get out of bed to get the kids to school. I was very proud of Stacy during that time. She would get herself up and get dressed and then she would wake up her brother and get him ready as well. She would then wake me up and drag me out of bed. I would stumble out of bed, put on a few clothes...or not and just wear my pajamas, and then drive them to school. Most of the time I wouldn't brush my teeth or comb my hair.

Over the past six months I have experienced a loneliness like no other. I really miss Dale and his companionship. I even miss our arguments. I miss the way he would make me laugh, and I miss the times he would hold me as I cried. There is now just this big, empty space in my life.

The evenings are still the hardest. Every night we would get in bed and cuddle before sleeping. I always appreciated Dale's love for cuddling. I know most men don't want to cuddle with their wives but a night didn't go by when we wouldn't cuddle. We would watch our favorite shows and talk about the kids. Obviously, being so close together physically would lend itself to love making. Dale was amazing in bed and I miss how he made me feel so sexy all the time.

Crawling into bed every night is both a blessing and a curse. When I slide into bed, he is there with me. I close my eyes and I know he is going to step into the room at any moment and slide into bed with me, just like he had done every day for almost seventeen years...but he never arrives. The immense loneliness then consumes me and I cry myself to sleep.

I've been trying to cope the best I can, which is why I'm writing this letter. Something happened this week and I need to tell you about it. While I think it was good for several reasons, it could complicate things.

Two weeks ago I dragged myself out of bed and took Tommy to hockey practice. You know how much Tommy loves hockey, and even though I hate taking him to practice, I can't deprive my son of the joy he receives from playing.

As usual, I didn't even bother with make-up and that day I didn't even brush my hair. I put a toque on my head, wore the yoga pants I had slept in, and I covered myself with a huge jacket, I put on my gloves and headed out the door. I obviously wasn't looking for attention with the outfit. I had overslept again and I needed to get to the arena in fifteen minutes.

After watching the kids play hockey for a little while, I decided to get a coffee. I went to the concession stand and waited in line, my mind in a fog. I ordered the coffee and as the girl was pouring it, the man behind me said something. I didn't quite catch it.

I turned quickly and snapped, "What was that?"

Sheepishly he said, "I um...I said I think you're beautiful."

"Are you insane?!" I said before I turned and paid for my coffee. I mumbled that he was an idiot and I stormed off and headed back for my seat in the bleachers. I sat in my seat stewing in all my negativity.

How dare he! Doesn't he know I recently lost my husband? Doesn't he know that I feel like shit every single second and I don't want to be beautiful? Doesn't he know that I don't even want to be out of bed? Doesn't he know that I'm just a frumpy young widow that would love to crawl into a hole and die? Doesn't he know that I only wake up every day because I have two kids that I love?

As soon as practice was over, I grabbed Tommy and I didn't even let him take off his skates. I carried him to the car so I could get out of there as quickly as possible. (I didn't score any points with him that day. "Thanks Mom. Now everyone is going to laugh because my Mommy carried me to he car!" Ugh.)

As I drove home I realized I knew the man. We had never been introduced but I knew he was the father of Tommy's teammate, Joshua. I had seen him at practice many times before. He seemed to be a dedicated father who supported his son's dream to play hockey. At games, he never yelled at his son unless it was to encourage him. When Joshua made a mistake on the ice his father would never get angry or frustrated. He would just pull him aside and give him pointers so he could improve.

He seems nice enough but he isn't my type physically. He is balding and has a few extra pounds. His looks are average at best and so he never really caught my eye. He was always just...there.

The more I thought about it, I realized I never saw Joshua's mother at any practice, or even at the games. That wasn't completely out of the ordinary as some parents had conflicting schedules, but it seemed that you would cross paths with all of the parents at some point. They would try their best to at least attend the big games.

I think it was Tuesday when I finally asked Tommy about Joshua's mom. I tried to casually bring it up. When I finally asked I was take aback by Tommy's abrupt response.

"He doesn't have a mom."

That was when the guilt set in and the questions started. How could I be so rude to someone who had given me such a nice compliment? How could I be so mean to someone that was being so nice to me? I felt horrible for being so rude and I decided that I would try to make amends. What happened to Joshua's mom? Were they separated or divorced?

I woke up last Saturday morning determined to muster up all of my energy so I could be as nice and positive as possible. I even put on a little makeup and wore my clean yoga pants instead of wearing the same pair that I had worn the entire week before. It wouldn't really matter anyway. I wasn't trying to date the man, I just wanted to look presentable when I apologized.

Looking into the mirror before we left, I still didn't feel beautiful but at least I didn't look like death. I suppose that is a bad choice of words considering what I've been through...

Anxiety set in when I drove into the arena. I just wanted to apologize to the poor guy who had tried to be so nice. I was surprised that I was a bit nervous to see him again. I assumed he wouldn't even want to speak to me considering how rude I had been.

Tommy and I walked into the arena and headed for the locker room. I helped Tommy get his gear on, laced up his skates for him, and sent him out to the ice. I kept looking over my shoulder but I couldn't see Joshua's dad anywhere.

The boys all went out to the ice rink and the parents slowly meandered out to the bleachers so they could watch practice. Some would go to the concession stands first and grab something to eat.

Some, like Billy's mom, would definitely go to the concession stands. That woman is disgusting. She reeks of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume and can eat more than three men. She screams obscenities at her son the entire practice and if you ever make the mistake of sitting next to her, she'll complain the entire practice that she can't find a good man. I'm sure the big mustard and processed cheese stains that she still has on the shirt she wore to last weeks practice has nothing to do with it. Bleh.

Anyway, I walked out to the bleachers, looked for Billy's mom, made sure I walked two sections away from her, walked to the top of the bleachers and sat down. I scanned the entire arena and I still couldn't see Joshua's father. All that anxiety for nothing. I was so worried to see him and he wasn't even there. I would just have to apologize next week.

I watched Tommy carefully while as the boys went through their warm-up drills. He has such a love for hockey, just like his daddy. The first time Tommy skated after his fathers death, Tommy practiced harder than I had ever seen him practice before. He came off the ice soaked in sweat and I noticed he had used hockey tape to mark X's on his shoulders. On the way home I asked him about it.

"I put the X's on my shoulders so dad could find me on the ice when he looked down from heaven. I didn't want to let him down so I tried my hardest."

Needless to say, I cried all night that night.

As I watched Tommy play I noticed he was working on this little move Dale always used to do when he played. Dale had showed it to him a few times. Basically, Dale would pass the puck through his legs. It was really a very simple play but Dale claimed it as his own and would taunt the other team that they had been "Dale Duped". I sat there, smiling to myself like a little schoolgirl, reminiscing about all the games I used to watch Dale play in and how he always made me laugh. I started to tear up seeing Tommy try to be like his dad when I suddenly realized someone was standing next to me.

"Coffee?"

I looked over. It was Joshua's dad! He was holding out a cup of coffee toward me.

"You can have it if you promise not to throw it at me," he said with a little grin.

"Thank you. I've been looking for you all morning," I said as I took off my gloves and enjoyed the warmth of the hot coffee cup on my cold hands.

"Looking to beat me with a hockey stick this time?"

"Not at all. Please, have a seat," I replied.

As he sat down, I noticed he smelled...manly. It wasn't a bad smell at all, but rather, it was just manly soap and all the products a man usually uses. Shaving cream, after shave, stuff like that. I realized how much I missed those smells.

I cleared my throat and said, "I wanted to apologize for last week. I was rude and it was totally uncalled for. I've just been through a lot the past few months and I-"

He held up his hand to stop me.

"I heard about what happened. You have my condolences."

"But it's still no excuse to be rude to someone. I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," he said, smiling reassuringly.

At that moment I realized he had a beautiful smile.

I took a sip of my coffee and then I continued, "Yes, I needed to apologize and I should be the one buying you a coffee. I'm surprised you even waned to speak to me this week."

"Well...maybe I know exactly what you're going through. And maybe I wanted to offer a listening ear, because I know exactly how important that can be. My...my wife passed away two years ago...so I know exactly how frustrating, scary, and heart breaking it can be."

His words had so much warmth. It was as if he was wrapping a blanket around me. For the first time in over a year, I finally felt comforted. Please don't take offense. I know you did your best when you stayed with me. I was just so broken that no one could have comforted me at that time. Everyone had tried, but nothing could have worked. The wound of losing Dales was just too fresh. But for some reason, this man, on that day touched my heart in a way that no one else could.

"I'm so sorry. May I ask what happened?" I asked.

"Cancer. A very aggressive form of cancer. She felt fine, was in great health, and then she went to the doctor for this little discomfort she was feeling in her abdomen. We received the news that it was cancer and it had already spread to her organs. Stage four. She only made it two more months...and then she was gone."

His words faded and his eyes glazed over. His mind was somewhere distant, once again with his wife. It was obvious how much much he had...or I should say, still loves her.

I reached over and put my right hand on his left. We were connected in a way that most people should not be. The Grim Reaper had stolen our mates and he was now our common enemy. We knew the immense pain of losing a loved one far to early. We were kindred spirits.

He looked down on my hand on his, slowly reached over and put his right hand on mine, and then slowly closed his eyes. I'm pretty sure he was feeling the same way I was. It felt good just to be touched by someone again. For myself, I think it is one of the things I've missed the most. Dale wasn't a man of many words. There were many nights when he would come home from work, eat dinner, and then plop down on the couch and not say another word the rest of the night. I was completely fine with that because he would always be touching me. His hand would be draped over my thigh or he would put his leg over mine. Many nights he would rest his head on my lap and fall asleep watching TV.