Plans Pt. 11

It was pretty obvious that I wanted to get married. I asked you all the time. At some point I imagined you would say yes. I still think you may, one day.

I thought we would end up taking dance lessons. It was a weird thought, but I know how much you love your dancing reality TV. I always imagined that we would take lessons to prepare for that big dance at our wedding. Crazy, I know, but something I had convinced myself none the less.

Plans Pt. 10

You wanted to travel. It was such a driving force in you. You hadn't had much opportunity since you were a child and you wanted to before you got too old.

I had done a little when I was younger, but not in a while. I always thought you were a little jealous of some of the places I'd been. I love to travel, but worried about the expense.

We had talked about a few places, Paris, South Carolina, some place warm and NYC.

We had barely touched the list and it felt so incomplete. It was something left unfinished.

I still plan to go to those places, but when I think of them I can't do it without thinking of you.

New York, Paris, all of them do not exist without you.

Plans Pt. 9

I have always had a bunch of dreams about opening my own business. Back when I was much younger I used to talk about opening a small rep cinema with a café and a liquor license. Something tasteful and small that would be a destination for those folks that liked old movies, a glass of beer and possibly a sandwich or a salad. I don't think about it much anymore, but it comes back to me from time to time. Like tonight, for example.

For the longest while, I have always thought we would open your business. A clinic, most likely in Kingston, but some place downtown in a university town, where we could be part of a business community. Nice and tasteful, but urban and young.

I would manage the staff and the front and you would manage the care. We would be a team.

I didn't stop there. I knew you and your sister talked a lot about a coffee shop. Something fun and arty, with a community gallery and a place she could sell her jewellery and crafts.

It expanded in my head. We would do a small trade in used books and carry local bands' cds. Maybe even sell concert tickets. A café that was also a cultural hub for whatever town we lived in.

Wood and art everywhere, it was an incredible place, cozy and fun.

A place you would love to visit.

Plans Pt. 8

I never forgot it.

You mentioned it so early, but kept returning to it time and time again. It was one of those things that people think about, rarely, but think about it and make vague plans that they come back to at a later date, modify and store again, to repeat.

I remember one time when we talked about it, it became big. You had your ideas and in a fit of intrinsic mania I threw a giant loop into it, just to make it that much more wacky and weird.

But without the weirdness, I wanted to see the Carolinas with you.

You had vacationed there when you were a child and desperately wanted to share the beaches that you remembered with someone.

I wanted to be that someone. I had never been, but I so desperately wanted to change that.

To drive south, on the freeways and byways. To order grits and chicken fried steak in a roadside diner. To lounge on a southern beach and stay in motels and camp grounds.

All of those things I wanted to do.

To take that southern roadtrip with you. To be on the run, on the lam, whatever, heading south.

I wanted to do those things

I wanted to do them with you.

Plans Pt. 7

I always expected we would end up in Kingston. You told me once you were worried I would want to move home. You couldn't live that far from your family, so it wasn't something feasible.

I never dreamed we would move there, but I never told you that.

I don't know Kingston at all, but it reminds me of my home and I would have been happy there.

Being close to your father would have been a treat and I would have looked forward to having him over for dinner and keeping him company when he got lonely.

I would have done anything to make you happy.

I still would.

Plans Pt. 6

For the last year I have been searching. Searching for something I have only seen, but I have never been able to find.

On the street, on the subway, at work. I have even approached women to ask for help, but to no avail.

I have been trying to find you the perfect pair of black Mary Jane flats. I think that is what they are called. I mean those rounded toe slip ons that have the strap that runs across the top of your foot.

You have a pair, but they hurt your feet. And you are always complaining about comfortable shoes for work.

I have never stopped looking and I don't think I will anytime soon.

I might find them and I may not, but I need to try.

Plans Pt. 5

You said once you had a vision of us walking with two boys. You never told me that when we were together. Only after we were apart.

I always thought we would have a boy and a girl. One of each. My mother would love a granddaughter. So one of each would be ok.

I never told you that.

Ever.

Plans Pt. 4

You always wanted to go to Paris.

I had been as a child, but I only remember very little. I remember cozy bistros and the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame and a seedy little hotel.

I was convinced we would go. Sooner or later, but probably sooner. If I hadn't proposed before we left, I definitely would have there. I even had it planned.

I was saving for a ring, which you kind of knew about, but we ended up spending that money of our vacation south. You didn't know about the tux.

I bought a tux on ebay. I am not sure how it fits as I have never opened it. I was planning on having it tailored, but you always said maybe.

I would have surprised you as your husband. I am sure of that.

You would have been happy.

Plans Pt. 3

summers, the County.

We drive a lot in the county. Going for cider and cheese or visiting town or friends.

You are the better driver, but I own the car, so...

I always thought I would win the lottery. I don't buy tickets very often, but I thought I would win, it would just take a little time. It didn't matter that the odds were stacked against me. I was going to win eventually. It had to happen because it would make our lives easier. Driving in the car through the county, I had lots of time to think about how to spend the money.

There is a house, off set from the road, in Cherry Valley. It was obviously built new on a huge piece of land overlooking East Lake. Everytime I drove past I knew I had to buy that house for you. If I couldn't buy it I would rebuild somewhere earby.

Your family has summered in the County for so long. You love it and you made me love it. I knew I had to buy property for you there, either from Chuck Slik or another agent, but I had to get that for you.

So, as we drove, I was plotting where I would put our house if I couldn't buy the one I liked. The next best location was on the river from Milford. The north side seemed pretty sparse, only farms and I thought I could cajole a farmer to give use some river front property.

If not, the south side had some places that I thought I could get.

I planned the house in my head. Knowing only the outside, I planned an open concept with lots of windows, a covered patio all around, sunroom on the back facing the water and a dock and boat launch for the grandfathers and kids. It would have a garage and a guest house off to the side. Yes, a guest house! As I knew we would entertain. Visions of my folks coming up in winter to see us and our kids during the holidays. A guest house with a couple of suites so that we would always have room. Your sisters or brother would have a place to stay. Or a nice home for your Dad and Ann when they weren't away on one of their trips. Close to his friends, but private enough.

Brick, it would all be made out of brick, looking like all the old farm houses we saw when we drove.

I was hoping to have it built without you knowing. I wanted to surprise you. I even had visions of the phone calls I would have to make and not let you hear.

All of this while I was driving.

Memories Pt. 10 and Plans Pt. 2

by the ocean, the first time not the last.

Early on, I convinced you to come with me home. It was all so exciting and yet so new. I can't believe you said yes and came.

We spent two days by the sea. Two days of solitude, just getting to know each other. Feeling things out. I learned you were a master fire builder and that you collected rocks and shells for your mother's garden.

No electricity, only lanterns and fires and lots of blankets and quilts. Nights by the fireplace or down by the beach, roaring bonfire, drinking wine and nestling up together in the shelter of a beach rock.

Shopping at the general store in the small town, walking on the beach. Showing you my life, my childhood. You took a picture that is glorious and peaceful, the best I have seen from the front window. Sunny and warm, it breathes comfort.

I always thought we would take our children there. Show them my life, since they would see so much of their mother's. Spend a week there in the summer, swimming and catching fish, playing in the river, boiling mussels on the beach. Nothing but love and nature and family.

Just like I did when I was child.

Just like we did that summer.

Plans Pt.1

I am a quiet guy, sometimes shy. Oftentimes that comes across as angry which I am rarely.

I get scared and have worries and live inside my head too much. Some have called it overly analytical which is true.

I am not very good at making plans. I tend to be very reactive. I am not sure if it is laziness or just how my mind works, by I tend to react instead of act.

But where would we be without plans?

Plans are like the complement to memories. Memories are all the things that happened in your past, while plans are the memories of the future. Those dreams and ideas that you hold on to, that you work towards.

For the past day, I have been fixated on a plan I had that I have not told anyone. This plan is probably never ever going to happen, but I can't get it out of my head.

In hindsight, it was a fantasy. It was a 3 minute event that would take place in some nebulous future. It had a lot of moving parts, but I thought it would be perfect and would say a lot about me and my partner in crime, and surprise her as well. But it would take two to tango and as I said I never told a soul.

But losing it hurts none the less.