Saturday, August 20, 2022

Friday Night and a bottle of wine

 On Friday nights in the Summer we used to jump on the Harley after he got home from work and head to Wisconsin.

We'd stop in Hebron, a tiny town on the border of Illinois and Wisconsin and eat at Crandall's an All You Can Eat Broasted Chicken place. 

Other times we'd go to Mad Dan's in Twin Lakes Wisconsin to eat our fill of breaded Perch. 

Once we'd eaten we would head home in the pitch dark. I'd  twine my hands around his waist and rest my chin on his  shoulder and let the cool breeze hit me in the face as he drove us home.  I was never afraid riding behind him on our Harley.  

 Our first motorcycle was a Honda Goldwing. Once while coming up to a stop sign at a four way he miscalculated the turn and dumped us over. I rode that bike right down to the ground sitting behind him. We landed sideways in the grass. 

"Next time don't take the corner so sharp" I told him. We never crashed again after that.

If he got home from work too late we'd go to our local Culver's and get burgers and ice cream sundaes.

We always ate the ice cream sundaes first. He'd get strawberries on his ice cream, and I got hot fudge.  

It was one of our favorite dates.

We were going to take that Harley with us in our RV and ride off in to the sunset after he retired.

I'm so sorry we never got to experience that. It makes me cry when I think about it.

Feels like life wasn't fair to us ever.  

So many times over the years him and I fought against each other and our circumstances and lost.

We lost our daughter, ourselves, jobs, our home, our fathers, our dreams and our way.

Just when things felt like they were turning around he got cancer.

He was set to retire in May but got sick the proceeding June.

He never made it to retirement in May nor his 59th birthday in July.

Lord but I miss that man.

Wine makes me cry. I need to stop drinking it.

Forgive me, I'm sorry. I miss him and I'm sad.

Love, Lolly

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