My Rob: Part 3

"If you build it, they will come."

...And that was how Rob responded to my dilemma between choosing the somewhat trashy beaded lampshades vs. the sophsticated shabby chic simple white ones with rosebuds.  

Made sense to me.

              Why would I redecorate my bedroom to look like 'Martha Stewart'?

     ...when what I really wanted, was to channel my inner 'Pamela Anderson'?

OK. Pam Anderson might be a stretch ... but my point is... a "boudoir" was my goal.

Rob and Steve agreed that my current boy-friend-less situation might not be helped by having a mattress and boxspring on the floor, a  white particle-board dresser with matching nightstand, a shade-less table lamp and beige roller blinds covering my windows that were, at one time, white.

So the bedroom make-over began...

The transition began with purchasing two trashy lamps.

I love(d) them.

Then, my bed was picked up off of the floor (adding the benefit of additional storage space - woohoo) and placed on a frame. 

New linens, a dark walnut dresser, two nightstands, a bench at the foot of my bed. Steve dressed the windows artistically in white tulle and pale peach silk flowers (it was the 90's).  

Remembering Rob gushing ..."He makes such a good gay guy" while beaming with pride of his partner's flair for home decorating still makes me smile.

That was 17 years ago. Rob died the following year. Mr. Something came into my life a few weeks later.

The trashy lamps flank the daybed in our guest room now. A token reminder of my past life and of my cherished friend. 

My Rob: Part 1

In 1996, my best friend was a guy. Who just happened to be gay. And a nurse.

Before the goofy-gay-nurse stereotype imprints into your head, I want to be clear that Rob was a professional, dedicated, knowledgeable, skilled and published nurse who held a Masters degree in Nursing and was considered as an expert in Pediatric Trauma.

Serious Rob

Once, after passing two very muscular, tattooed and tanned guys dressed in tank tops and short-shorts while strolling the Midway at The State Fair,  Rob turned to me and flatly said, "Gay guys like that give us all a bad name".

Rob and his life-partner, "Steve" (a pseudonym) had been together for about six years. Rob was outgoing, funny, sincere, playful and caring. Steve was quiet, thoughtful, intelligent, could fix anything, sew and cook. They were the best friends that this thirty-something single girl could ever wish for.

Rob and I bonded immediately. We loved going to the movies, popcorn, hanging out, psychic stuff, parties, Mariah Carey, eating, Halloween, Sedona, Christmas, dancing, The Academy Awards, animals, a good laugh, "Imitation of Life" (with Lana Turner), talking on the phone and Bingo. OK, so maybe we weren't "The World's Most Interesting People", but it worked for us.

 Rob

 

We were as 'thick as thieves' and then, suddenly, Rob got sick. And then he died.

It's been over 20 years.

I still miss him.

Rob was intrinsically a teacher and it's because of this that I have decided to share his story with you.

You may learn something from him and his life experiences.

I know that I have...

Free Advice: On Falling in Love - Part Six

OK, so what started out as 'free advice' is turning into our love story. That being said, bear with me. It's just my way of illustrating how I learned all about falling in love.

I'm sure that by now you're thinking... "C'mon, this is all fine and good but hey, I need a real-live person to try my 'lovability'and 'vulnerability' out on".

I'm getting to that. In the interim, lets's review a few key points that I have learned to be helpful in falling in love...

1. Recognize that you are 'loveable'.
2. Allow yourself to be 'vulnerable'.
3. Accept that things are not always 'black and white'. Sometimes they are grey.

  _____________________________________________________________________

Back to lunch...

He was "separated" and I had some thinking to do. I called Kathy. "Just be friends" she said simply. Huh. What a concept. The old Joanie would have probably just written him off as someone with "too many complications". The new Joanie was really in need of his friendship.

I did have some misgivings though. He and his wife could reconcile and/or the chemistry between us could prove to make a platonic friendship ahem, challenging. But, remaining wounded and vulnerable after the sudden loss of Rob & Betsy a few weeks before, I decided..."What the hell. I've been hurt before and I'll most likely get hurt again but I'll survive."

Friends, we were and I soon learned of the advantages in being 'just friends' with a heterosexual man...

• You can be who you are
• You can say what you want
• You can eat what you want 

For someone who had only been 'friends' with women and homosexual men, this was a refreshing change. I had always looked at straight guys as potential husbands and my behaviours reflected a woman who dressed, ate and acted the way I thought I should. Ahhhh, I was finally getting that Shakespearean quote, "To thine own self, be true" Who knew? Love: Part 7

Free Advice: On Falling in Love - Part Three

 

It was 1996 and my life was sounding a lot like the lyrics of a country song. My dear friend, Rob died in February, then out of the blue, I lost Betsy, my sweet three year old Australian Shepherd (her vet said it was a brain aneurysm) and my heart felt as though it had been run over by a freight train. I was as lost as I had ever been.

Betsy & Rob

After losing Rob, I cried, reflected, journaled and visited him at the cemetary.

Then, a few weeks later, just when I allowed myself to laugh again,  Betsy died.

I curled up in a ball on the sofa in the dark ignoring the phone and doorbell. Neighborhood kids left flowers from their garden on my doorstep. I was inconsolable and for the first time in my adult life that I can recall, I was vulnerable.

vul-ner-a-ble / adjective: 1. exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.

Little did I know that the missing link in my search for love was...vulnerability? Love: Part 4

...and no one's getting fat except Mama Cass

One sunny afternoon in 1995, while driving around with my BFF, Rob, we picked up some sandwiches from a local deli and was on the way to deliver them to the hospital, when out of the blue, I had to ask…”Rob, Do you think Mama Cass died after choking on a ham sandwich?”

“I thought it was a chicken leg.” Rob answered.

We pulled over.

Suddenly, we were both struck with the absurdity of the question. How would he know? The correct answer would be purely speculation on both of our parts but I felt strongly that the question had to be asked. After all, the rumour had been circulating for years and I felt a need to put it to rest.

After composing ourselves, Rob and I continued on our errand.

The Mamas and the Papas had always been one of my all-time favorite groups from the mid to late sixties. Comprised of “Mama” Cass Elliott, Michelle Phillips, Denny Doherty and John Phillips. The songs that I will always hold close to my heart include ‘Monday, Monday’, ‘Dream a Little Dream of Me’, ‘I Call Your Name’ and ‘Words of Love’ to name but a few. I get all misty-eyed just thinking of them.
As we made our way to the hospital, I blurted...

“And another thing … where does that skinny Michelle Phillips get off singing, “And no one's getting fat except Mama Cass”? (referring to the lyrics of their hit song "Creeque Alley") I mean, c’mon – give her a break. Even if Cass agreed to the lyrics, a true friend would refuse to sing them.”

“Bitch.” Rob responded.

We pulled over again.

Why I was fixating on Mama Cass is beyond me but I think I had a valid point. Color me overly-sensitive but just because Mama Cass was overweight, it didn’t give the band any reason to capitalize on her girth by ridiculing her forever with a catchy tune. Adding insult to injury, it is said that she died alone in a hotel room in London after choking on room service. Would that have been reported by the tabloids if Mama Cass was a petite size 8? I don’t think so.

The fact of the matter is that Cass Elliott sadly died of a heart attack at the age of 33.

My BFF, Rob died a few months later, at the same age. But that is another story.