Regrets
I read somewhere that writers shouldnt start a story with
a dream. This normally wouldnt concern me as I almost never remember my
dreams. Still, I had this one just before awakening and it was still vivid in
my mind. In the dream I was a young man, not the old geezer I am now. I was
sitting in a restaurant waiting for a girl to join me for lunch. Then I woke up
and I was disappointed. I had wanted the dream to continue. I recalled Julie
Landis, who was the girl I was most involved with during my younger days in San
Francisco. She was very attractive, tall, tanned, blonde; what I, coming from
New York, then thought of as the typical California girl, although she was from
Minnesota. We were both in the advertising business, the ad game, I being a
lowly researcher and she a media buyer, which is how wed met.
Our lunches were rare and she was invariably late, she was
always coming from a meeting. When she did arrive at the restaurant every man
there turned to look at her, the maitre de jumped to attention and led
her to my table and the waiter, whod been ignoring me, immediately came
over to serve us. On my part, as soon as I saw her, my breath became uneven, my
heart began racing and I did my best to compose myself. I dont know what
would have happened if my dream had continued. I did know that the feeling of
expectation I had at that time of my life was unlikely ever to occur again. So
I was disappointed.
I had recently had hip replacement surgery, my years of tennis
playing catching up with me. Id struggled with the pain for almost two
years until the surgeon had an x-ray taken and told me I was bone on bone so
there seemed to be no alternative. My wife (not Julie Landis) and I lived in a
Northern California retirement community just outside of the state capital,
Sacramento. The weeks after the surgery were not pleasant. I had to take a lot
of pain killers and this may have made my dreams more vivid than usual. The
pain killers, according to the warnings, could also cause hallucinations, and I
may have had a few of these. I know that one afternoon when I was laying in bed
I suddenly saw myself on the tennis court. It was bright sunlight and I was
wearing tennis shorts. I looked down at my legs and they were fine. I could
run.
Several weeks later, I happened to have lunch with my wife
Ellen. After the hip replacement surgery, I had to have physical therapy. I had
a morning appointment with the physical therapist. My Health Maintenance
Organization was 15 minutes away from our shopping mall, which contained a nice
restaurant where we had a coupon for a two-for-one meal. I asked Ellen if she
wanted to meet me there. No use wasting that two-for-one coupon. She had
nothing on so we arranged to meet in the restaurant at one. The physical
therapist gave me a few new exercises to do and said I seemed to be coming
along okay. I asked how long I had to do my exercises and he said
Forever, which seemed a pretty long time. We finished pretty
quickly so I reached the restaurant early and took a table where I could see
Ellen coming in and studied the menu.
Yes, as the reader expects, I recalled that dream about waiting
for someone for a lunch date and the thoughts Id had after it. Unlike
Julie Landis, Ellen was always punctual; she arrived at one. I waved to her and
she came over to my table. No change in my breathing or heart rate. It
wasnt that I wasnt glad to see Ellen, and the thought did occur
that at my time of life Id rather be meeting her than someone like Julie.
During my recovery, shed been a great caretaker. I couldnt imagine
Julie in that role. We ordered lunch and I told her about my physical therapy.
We discussed the possibility of going on a cruise later that year. I said we
should hold off for awhile and see how my walking was progressing. If I could
make it from our cabin to the dining room and from there to the theater we
could probably go.
After lunch, Ellen decided shed do some shopping at the
mall. I decided Id go home. I checked the mail, the usual bills and
requests for donations. No phone messages. I briefly considered doing the new
exercises the physical therapist had given me, but I didnt feel like it.
Since my surgery, even little outings like going to the HMO and then to lunch
still left me tired out. I had a half-finished short story on my computer but I
didnt feel like doing that either. I sat in my recliner and turned on the
TV to see what horrible things had happened during the day. But I didnt
really watch. Once again I thought of my lunch dream and of running on the
tennis courts. A lot of things in my life were over. I knew I should be
satisfied with the way things were, but I couldnt help it. All I could
feel at that particular time were regrets.