My Friend, Lover, and Wife, Arlene

My memories are fuzzy from all the alcohol that I consumed in my twenties, thirties, and forties. Yet, she stood beside me and helped me win that battle and I haven't had a drink in fifteen years. I'm still here because of her and now she's the one that's gone. That's not fair. It should be me lying there asleep forever and not her. The good die young. If I believe that premise and I do, then I'll live forever damned with my misery that I wronged her before descending to Hell, while she's resting in eternal peace in Heaven.

Our parents talked about the depression and about World War II, and how hard their life was back when they were young. Yet, my dad had the same job for 40 years before retiring and receiving a pension with his social security, two things, pension and social security, that our children may never collect. With a retirement home in Florida, they amassed more savings than I could ever earn with layoffs and long-term unemployment, budget cuts and economic down turns, and recessions and inflation taking every extra penny.

Much worse than the death toll of the Civil War, the sixties with the Bay of Pigs with Castro and Krushchev threatening the United States with a nuclear war, could have been more destructive and devastating than World War I and World War II combined. We lived through three political assassinations, John Kennedy, Martin Luther King, and Robert Kennedy, that to us, at the time, were just as horrific as 911. The continuation of the Viet Nam war with its forced draft and "Hell No We Won't Go" anti-war demonstrations and protests lasted longer than the Gulf War and Iraq War combined, thus far. Civil rights, race riots, busing, Detroit burning, Ku Klux Klan and three students found dead in Mississippi encouraged the implementation of laws to protect all American citizens no matter what race, creed or color.

Women finally getting their long overdue freedom and liberation with 9 to 5 and NOW, free sex and bra burning, Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem, the mini skirt and the maxi skirt, Twiggy, fad diets, and breast implants, women became a real force in the workplace and in politics. Ford Mustang, Pontiac Firebirds and GTOs, Chevrolette Camaros and Corvettes, Oldsmobile 442's, and Dodge and Plymouth Hemi Cudas filled my ears with squealing tires and my nose with burnt rubber. In the way that Boston had its Tea Party and the colonies had their Minutemen, The Black Panthers, SDS, SLA, sit-ins and boycotts, revolted the need for change.

Bonnie and Clyde, Rosemary's Baby, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Psycho, Breakfast At Tiffany's, The Graduate, Cool Hand Luke, Easy Rider, Catch-22, One Flew Over The Cuckcoo's Nest, Valley of the Dolls, In Cold Blood, Unsafe At Any Speed, The Beatles, Led Zepplin, Rolling Stones, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Jefferson Airplane, Jetro Tull, Jimmy Hendricks, Woodstock, psychedelic, LSD, and marijuana was the fast forward background cinematic, literary, and musical commentary of our times.

From the "One Small Step For Mankind..." Moon landing to Muhammad Ali's military draft, et al, the sixties was much more turbulent times than what our parents ever experienced living through in the forties. Yeah, read the above three paragraphs again and read them fast and without taking a breath because all of it happened just as fast and just as furious leaving us all...breathless.

She caught my attention with her short skirt, frosted lips, blue eye shadow, and PT coat. It was winter and when I saw her I thought how warm I'd forever be with her in my arms. Normally, I've always been attracted to smallish women with dark hair. She was tall, 5'7" and blonde. She was big boned, weighing about 150, and with breasts that promised me many nights of disturbed sleep, until I could feel and see what lay hidden beneath her cable knit sweater and 38C bra. Only, she was a virgin and I was a young testosterone filled, impulsive teenager who couldn't wait for tomorrow and who wanted everything today. I was horny.

She wasn't the prettiest woman I ever saw, but there was something about her that made me want to know more about her. She was pretty, nonetheless, but more importantly, she had a brain in her head and she understood my humor by challenging me with her own. It was as if we were lovers in another lifetime. She knew me better than I knew myself. Whatever it was she saw in me, I was glad that she did. Friends first before lovers, we connected almost immediately and stayed connected for the next 40 years.

We finally married in '72 and had two kids and lived a quiet life in a quiet neighborhood with relatives and friends close by us. Once she helped me through my alcoholism, we had a good life filled with love, caring, and commitment. It took me a long time to realize that it took more than being able to drink 100-proof bourbon to be a man.

I look at the young people now, single mothers instead of couples, with too many people who don't believe in marriage and who quit on a relationship as soon as the hard times surpass the good times. They miss out. They don't realize that the bad times create more of an indelible memory than the good times. Maybe, that's why I remember the hard times and the bad times more than I do the good times.

The good times are fleeting but the hard times are what gives you character and fortitude and if I knew then what I know now, I'd ask for more hard times. The hard times not only made me realize how low I've been and how much of a climb I had to make to turn my life around but also how good I'd feel once I got there. Yet, none of it would have been possible without her. I couldn't have climbed my mountain of misery without her there supporting my every step.

I'm mad because apparently, I sucked the life right out of her. I'm the one who gave her the cancer. It's my fault that she's dead. Yeah, I know the doctors already told me that I can't give someone cancer, but I spent most of my life rocking her spirit and making her cry. Why she stayed with me, I don't know. I do know. She loved me. She really loved me. To be so loved is what will help carry me through my life without her. To be so loved will make me not disappoint her by picking up the bottle again. She's given me the strength not to do that.

My favorite times with her were at the end of the day talking while sipping a cup of coffee and lazy Sunday mornings. Every night, I'd cuddle up to her and we'd spoon. It was comforting to feel her warmth and to know that she was there in the bed with me. We didn't have to have sex to feel close, but when we did it was special. It was the Fourth of July in December.

We did everything together as a couple. Our friends always said about us that we had the best relationship. They envied how close we were. They were amazed we never quarreled, just as we were amazed how apart they seemed and how they always quarreled. They didn't even watch television in the same room and if we told one something, we had to make sure that we told the other otherwise, they wouldn't communicate what it was we wanted them both to know.

She always wore Shalimar perfume. I don't think it was her personal favorite, but she knew it was mine. And she loved yellow roses. Even though we didn't celebrate Valentine's Day, every Valentine's Day I'd surprise her with a dozen yellow roses and a box of cashew nuts, her favorite, instead of candy. It wasn't much of a surprise, she knew it was coming and had grown to expect it. Still, we didn't celebrate Valentine's Day in the way the other couples did. It wasn't a big deal to us because, as I said before, every day was our Valentine's Day. Every day we acknowledged our love and commitment to one another. Every day we counted our blessings in having one another in our lives.

She died last year and I can still smell her Shalimar perfume. The aroma of it makes my soul sing but my heart ache because whenever my nose gets that bouquet, I know she's there with me. This year, I plan on buying her yellow roses again and putting them in a vase by her side of the bed.

"If you can hear me, wherever you are, this story is for you. Happy Valentine's Day, Arlene. I'll always love you."