I have written about the pain of remembering Bette. The sad truth is I want to remember and to neglect that process will only lead to more hurt which I am not in any need of. I must accept sorrow as an element of memory. I woke up with this thought and I thanked her.

After parking the car I waited for awhile and remembered.

“Thanks for letting me off here. I’ll order our coffees when I get in and…”

“Same as usual.”

“You got it.”

I got out and went around to open her door.

“Such a gentleman, thanks love.”

I am walking in and see her, in our favorite booth, with newspaper in hand and a smile.

“So how are things going with the novel?”

“Ah, come on Bette; like you don’t know.”

“We’re having breakfast out and when we do you always have a new development to share knowing my Belgian waffle and bacon will vie less for my attention than your brilliant new character or a surprising nuance in an old one.”

“Okay consider it a ‘yes’ to whatever request you make.”

“Oh John that hurts; you’re thinking I have a hidden agenda.”

We had so much fun with our little repartees.

I walk into the restaurant and sit at the counter with a view of our booth. It  happens no one  is there which makes the eavesdropping that much easier.

She’s telling me about a news story she just read and I listen with interest telling her it may also be covered on tonights news.  Bette loved watching the news; local and national. She folded the paper and took it over to the counter so others could read it.

“That waffle is almost gone.”

“I was hungry”

“After breakfast the usual?”

“Yeah, the river, the stop and shop and home.”

“Looking forward to Mahler at Yale this Saturday?”

“I am, very much.”

The little Cromwell restaurant where we often had breakfast wasn’t far from the Connecticut River and it was a wonderful denouement to many a morning.

The last concert Bette and I attended was Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony at Yale’s Woolsey Hall. Bette was surprised how much she liked it.

“But don’t take away my Doo Wop and Motown.”

“Not in a million years”

“Good. Mahler’s music is powerful.”

“It is. And we’ll have to keep a lookout for his Eighth Symphony. I’m sure you will love that as well.”

“Find it and I’m all yours.”

“Thank God for that!”

Love To You All