Learning to Focus on the Happy Times

In this picture, Art is sitting on a wall overlooking a harbor in Marblehead, Massachusetts. When I downloaded the pictures I took on August 31, 2008, this one, in particular, took my attention. I loved it because of the beautiful view, and because Art was sitting quietly enjoying the view completely unaware that I was taking the picture.

I have this picture as "wallpaper" on my computer desktop, so I see it every time I turn on my computer, which is every day. Since Art's death, this picture has taken on an entirely new meaning for me. When I look at it now, I find myself wondering what Art was thinking that day. He hadn't felt well for a couple of days, but still seemed to be enjoying the visit with our son and daughter-in-law. Thinking about it now, exactly two years later, I went back and looked at all the other pictures I took that day and found two other shots of Art, standing alone, with his hands in his back pockets (a familiar pose), seemingly lost in thought. Was he feeling worse than he let on? Was he experiencing the first symptoms of lymphoma? Could he possibly have had a premonition that something life threatening (and ultimately life taking) was about to happen? Did he suspect that he would never feel totally healthy again?

Of course, I can never know the answers to those questions—and there is certainly nothing to be gained by obsessing over them—so I've decided to make a concerted effort to remember the happier moments associated with Art's last visit to the Boston area, where our son Mark and his wife were living at the time. For Art, the happiest moment of the trip came the very next day when he and Mark went to a Boston Red Sox game.  Art was always a Red Sox fan, and had actually planned to take me to a game when we were on our honeymoon. Unfortunately, that didn't work out, and he had to wait  46 years to see the Red Sox play at Fenway Park.

What I'm choosing to remember when I look at this picture now is that, thanks to Mark, Art got to see the Red Sox play in Fenway Park before he died. If he had had a bucket list, I'm sure that would have been on it.