John sits on the park bench and sees there is plenty of room. The coffee cup is warming his hands and when he needs his hands free the cup balances well on the wooden bench slat.

It is 7am and he has been here since 5am. He watched the sun rise between the trees and buildings of Central Park, Manhattan.

He got it in his head to leave home in Connecticut and drive to New York a couple hours away. It was a trial run. John will do it again on January 29 the day of Bette’s birth. John Lennon’s memorial “Strawberry Fields” will be the destination and he will sit opposite the ‘Imagine’ mosaic.

John was Bette’s favorite. George was a close second.

John will have to buy an iPhone by then and imagine he is holding a transistor radio in memory of Bette’s youth; porch sitting and finding the right station.

For today he brought a small boombox with a CD of John’s greatest hits. He also brought The Temptations greatest hits with especially “My Girl”.

There is a chill in the air and Bette would be very cold due to that bloody anemia.

She was a lot more spontaneous and John suspects the trial run is her idea. How easy it is for her to get him to do something by getting inside his head.

John sits there with eyes closed and listens to “My Girl”. He so wanted to get up and dance a little knowing she’d appreciate that but shyness got the better of him. Before the song ended he opened his eyes to see a woman comparable to Bette in height and weight but not as cute dancing by herself. There was no prompting on the lady’s part but John knew what Bette was trying to do anyway and he wanted no part of it.

MindSpeak

“How could you Bette? My Grief over you is not to be assuaged by another woman. Nice try.

I have to be honest with you love I don’t see a way out. I’m not drinking. Alcohol holds no appeal and to be away from you for a foggy few hours is the last thing I want. I hardly watch TV. I will occasionally borrow from the library a book or a movie and the themes are serious; I have no interest in comedy. I can’t imagine laughing without you and remember if I didn’t find it as funny; there you’d be all a chuckle.  So forgive me for letting this woman dance by herself. She’s gone anyway.

I don’t dare go to the Whitney Art Museum. You and I were so excited about becoming members. I remember one painting that inspired an interesting conversation and it wasn’t the painting itself but the fact that it was on loan from the estate of Frank Sinatra. Something didn’t seem right about individual ownership. We agreed on that.

I guess I should be on my way. I decide to let go breakfast on Columbus Avenue; too much memory. I’m not really hungry anyway.

We loved New York. We often went into the city for music. I think of that when I’m home listening.

And as music was a very important part of our life it is now in our separation. It took me awhile to get back to our favorites but I’m there now and you, my love, are there also sitting in your recliner forsaking the cold and letting the warm harmonies caress your soul.”

Love To You All