Originally posted December 6, 2006, on my old blog....
Chicago has a fabulous lake front. Lake Michigan feels like an ocean, waves can reach two stories high or more! Up at the northeast corner of the city, I once had a friend named David who had an apartment that was bordered by the lake on three sides. Great place! And decorated to the nines. We'd met through work, both of us are interior designers. He was delightful, about ten years younger than I, full of color and dripping charm and personality. He loved good conversation and probing for secret treasures lurking hidden inside a person. We were an unlikely combination, he was gay and I was a married mother of two, but we enjoyed each other's company.
One night, David invited me over to his place "to talk". It was an hour's drive for me, but I was intriqued and more than willing, for times spent with David were full of adventure and surprises. It was a cool, crisp night, with high winds... winter was making a dramatic entrance.
At David's place I was enchanted to see a fire raging in his fireplace and candlelight all around. "Do you like Michael Feinstein's music?" he asked me. I didn't know it. So David put one of his albums on to play... "I would MARRY Michael Feinstein in a hearbeat!" he told me with a sigh. He patted his sofa (which had about two hundred pillows scattered across it!)... and urged me to sit beside him. So we leaned back and listened to the music. Love songs... sad songs...
David reached for a bowl of colored crystal hearts and held it on his lap. "Each Baccarat heart is for a lover who broke my heart." he told me, with misty eyes. One in particular he held longer than the others in his hand, almost reluctant to put it back in the bowl. I knew why I was there.... David was lonely.
We were like girlfriends... sharing secrets, confessing deep dark dreams seldom brought to light. He told me tales from childhood and sad stories of loves lost. He was a hopeless romantic, and I must admit I am too.
"I want to show you something!" he suddenly said with a big grin. He was so cute, looked a little like a young Tom Hanks. He took me by the hand and led me through the arched doorway into his bedroom. It had windows on two sides, a fireplace on the other... the same roaring fire faced the bed. "I want you to experience something amazing." he said... "Lay down on the bed." He walked around opening all the windows and placed another log on the fire. All the lights were off except for the flickering firelight to illuminate the room.
"Close your eyes." he told me. The room was quickly becoming VERY cold and breezy, and the heat from the fireplace felt fabulous. We laid there side by side, faces toward the ceiling. He reached for my hand.... "Listen... " It took a moment for me to settle in and relax... so many sensations were fighting for attention... the cold air, the warmth of the fire, the scent of firewood burning, the comforting warmth of a friend's hand.... but then I heard it... outside the window. Waves were crashing against the rocks, wind was blowing, and the roar of water rose three stories up to where we were. And listening to the water splashing, laying there with David's stories from that night fresh in my mind, I felt warmed from the inside out, no longer cold. Yes, it was an amazing magical experience.
About an hour passed as we laid there quietly, sometimes talking or giggling. It reminded me of childhood... sleepovers with girlfriends... nights of transparency and letting go of fears, and feeling music seep so deep inside that reality became another friend with us in the room .
A few years later, David and I drifted out of contact. It was just one of those things I suppose... but I'll remember him always. I'll remember his generousity, too.... the times he'd treat me to dinner, or say things like "let me see your new watch" and he'd tuck a folded twenty dollar bill under the face of it. (In those days ... early 90's... I was struggling financially and he loved to be Santa.) It gave him so much joy to do it. His thougthful gestures taught me about kindness in a world that seemed to grow more cruel by the day.
David, wherever you are, I wish you peace and happiness... and a bowl of Baccarat hearts that never overflows.
Chicago has a fabulous lake front. Lake Michigan feels like an ocean, waves can reach two stories high or more! Up at the northeast corner of the city, I once had a friend named David who had an apartment that was bordered by the lake on three sides. Great place! And decorated to the nines. We'd met through work, both of us are interior designers. He was delightful, about ten years younger than I, full of color and dripping charm and personality. He loved good conversation and probing for secret treasures lurking hidden inside a person. We were an unlikely combination, he was gay and I was a married mother of two, but we enjoyed each other's company.
One night, David invited me over to his place "to talk". It was an hour's drive for me, but I was intriqued and more than willing, for times spent with David were full of adventure and surprises. It was a cool, crisp night, with high winds... winter was making a dramatic entrance.
At David's place I was enchanted to see a fire raging in his fireplace and candlelight all around. "Do you like Michael Feinstein's music?" he asked me. I didn't know it. So David put one of his albums on to play... "I would MARRY Michael Feinstein in a hearbeat!" he told me with a sigh. He patted his sofa (which had about two hundred pillows scattered across it!)... and urged me to sit beside him. So we leaned back and listened to the music. Love songs... sad songs...
David reached for a bowl of colored crystal hearts and held it on his lap. "Each Baccarat heart is for a lover who broke my heart." he told me, with misty eyes. One in particular he held longer than the others in his hand, almost reluctant to put it back in the bowl. I knew why I was there.... David was lonely.We were like girlfriends... sharing secrets, confessing deep dark dreams seldom brought to light. He told me tales from childhood and sad stories of loves lost. He was a hopeless romantic, and I must admit I am too.
"I want to show you something!" he suddenly said with a big grin. He was so cute, looked a little like a young Tom Hanks. He took me by the hand and led me through the arched doorway into his bedroom. It had windows on two sides, a fireplace on the other... the same roaring fire faced the bed. "I want you to experience something amazing." he said... "Lay down on the bed." He walked around opening all the windows and placed another log on the fire. All the lights were off except for the flickering firelight to illuminate the room.
"Close your eyes." he told me. The room was quickly becoming VERY cold and breezy, and the heat from the fireplace felt fabulous. We laid there side by side, faces toward the ceiling. He reached for my hand.... "Listen... " It took a moment for me to settle in and relax... so many sensations were fighting for attention... the cold air, the warmth of the fire, the scent of firewood burning, the comforting warmth of a friend's hand.... but then I heard it... outside the window. Waves were crashing against the rocks, wind was blowing, and the roar of water rose three stories up to where we were. And listening to the water splashing, laying there with David's stories from that night fresh in my mind, I felt warmed from the inside out, no longer cold. Yes, it was an amazing magical experience.
About an hour passed as we laid there quietly, sometimes talking or giggling. It reminded me of childhood... sleepovers with girlfriends... nights of transparency and letting go of fears, and feeling music seep so deep inside that reality became another friend with us in the room .
A few years later, David and I drifted out of contact. It was just one of those things I suppose... but I'll remember him always. I'll remember his generousity, too.... the times he'd treat me to dinner, or say things like "let me see your new watch" and he'd tuck a folded twenty dollar bill under the face of it. (In those days ... early 90's... I was struggling financially and he loved to be Santa.) It gave him so much joy to do it. His thougthful gestures taught me about kindness in a world that seemed to grow more cruel by the day.
David, wherever you are, I wish you peace and happiness... and a bowl of Baccarat hearts that never overflows.
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