And world-of-mercy, Uncle Charles was actually accommodating:  He introduced Jamey to the “fellows” as his nephew and those two walked back up the hill like old pals as Uncle Charles shared Army stories with Jamey. 

I followed them in silent wonder.

SIGH:  Oh Man!  Those were the days!

(I hugged myself, eyes closed, as I hummed “I Do Love You” by

Billy Stewart.)

“Gi Gi!  Stop daydreaming!”

“What?”

“Girl, you didn’t hear a word I said.  I asked, why didn’t you marry me?”

(I quickly shook off the visit down memory lane.)

“Well, Mr. Jordan, You never came for me – you never came to see about me.”

“You lived in Indiana, somewhere out in KKK country.”

“All the other boys came.”

“I didn’t know the way.”

“You promised!”

“Yea, I did promise.  You’re right.”

SILENCE.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I chose you over all the other girls?”

“Other girls?”

“Cute and cuddly.  That’s why.  You were always so cute and cuddly.”

“Like a teddy bear?”

(Monica laughed)

(AWKWARD PAUSE)

“Gi Gi, I’m coming to see you tomorrow.”

(Uh Oh !  I had to head him off at the pass!)

“Jamey, I’ll tell you what.  I’m coming to St. Louis for a book signing next month.  I’ll meet up with you and Monica at Vickie’s book store.  I’ll get you the details later.”

“Wear your hair down, G.   I love that long, thick hair flowing on your shoulders.”

I pat my short bob hairdo.  “Sure thing.”

“Gi Gi?”  Jamey sounded unsure.  “You sound different.  Like an old woman.”

(Whoa!)

“Look, Jamey.  Let’s have a meeting of the minds.  I’ll show up just as I am.”

“If you don’t show up, I’m coming to get you.”  (Jeez, NOW he wants to come see about me!)

“Alrighty then, Jamey Jordan.   I’m going to email you an up-to-date photo of me.   Monica – you can paste that photo to a teddy bear of your choice.  (Chuckle)

And Jamey – when you think of me, you can go to your cute and cuddly teddy bear, and see that photo.  OK?”

No answer. 

THOUGHT:  I sure hope Monica doesn’t know any voodoo.  She is from

Louisiana…those red women know about roots and JuJu, too.  Oh boy…

“Vickie?”

“Jamey?”

“I’m getting one of my headaches, Vickie.”  (The sound of Jamey fumbling with the phone).  

“Jamey?”

“Jamey?”

“Miss, it was nice talking to you.  I’ll let you and my sister finish your call.”

 More phone fumbling.  (MUFFLED MOANS, GRUNTS)

“Ma-ma!”

Monica whispered to me, “He’s gone.  Can we call again?   I mean when he remembers you.”

“Of course.”    “Monica?”

“Yes?”

“I am so sorry; I didn’t know it was like this.”

“Well, GiGi.  I signed on for better or worse; in sickness and in health.”

“God bless you.”

We both said goodbye and hung up.

I sat there quietly for a full moment.  What have I gotten myself into? 

What just happened?  How long before Jamey comes back to reality?

Poor Monica.

That Vickie – she should have warned me - I dialed Vickie’s phone number.  Busy.  I text messaged her with a 911.  Maybe she’ll call me right back. 

My chest began to feel tight.

Suddenly, I remembered how my grandmother told us a story to prepare us for her old age.  She used to say if she lived long enough and good enough she would someday go back to “Happy Land.”  A place where old folks go to enjoy their final years:  happy and playful like when they were babies.

And now Jamey was on his way to Happy Land. 

At least he had all those years of good living.  (People always say that crap at times like this.  True or not.)

My phone rang – I wiped away a tear and took a deep breath.

“Hello?”

“Hey woman!  It’s your Hoops Man and I’m right outside your front door.  (SEXY SIGH) I can’t wait to kiss and make-up.”  (Silence)

“Aw, G-Baby, what’s wrong?”

I love this man so much…he listens to everything I say.  And don’t say.   Even when I’m spitting and sputtering as I explain why I’m crying

my heart out over my beloved Former First Love who is now

Lost in Alzheimer’s.

Maybe this is what love in our sixties is all about – sharing and caring –

about our Losses well as our Triumphs.  Even if it takes us all Back Down Memory Lane.

THE END