Thursday, January 8, 2009

"...and Knowing Every Square Inch..."

Yesterday, I saw a man on the bus that looked EXACTLY like my late husband. I mean Exactly. He looked like him in profile, had the same facial hair, wore the same style glasses, had on the type of cap like my husband was fond of wearing. He was wearing a coat like one my late husband owned. Had ears like my late husband and was dressed like my late husband dressed! A very unsettling experience. I carry a picture of him and showed it to a fellow passenger and asked her if the pic looked like the man. She thought it was the man and asked me if I knew him. When I told her what I had going on in my head she was as weirded out as I was. When I got off the bus and looked him dead in his face and he looked a little less like my late husband. That made me feel better.

I don't know if y'all remember that episode of Golden Girls when Blanche had the reoccurring dream that her late husband was not dead and showed up at her home after having been dead for a number of years. This is always in the back of my head for some reason. I know he's dead. I was there when he died. I saw him dead in the casket at both of his funerals and I kissed the casket before it was let down in the ground. I know he's gone and not coming back. And I know I watch too much television. But still….

That was weird.

But that was not the reason for the build, just the background since most of y'all don't personally know me or my life story.

When my late husband was alive and kicking, and shortly after we had gotten married, I was looking for something in his nightstand and came across a small notebook with my name on it in his writing. Now don't get it twisted. I wasn't snooping. I was looking for something like a paper clip or a rubber band or something. He had this fetish for office supplies. And I trusted him implicitly and he never gave me a reason to doubt him. EVER! Anywho… Since this book had my name on the cover, I read what was inside.

Basically it was a bunch of notes regarding my habits and proclivities. For example: 'Favorite color – pink' 'Has too many shoes' or 'Smiling is not her normal facial expression. If she smiles she's happy.' And 'When she tilts her head to the left she is thinking. To the right she is suspicious.' All kinds of little seemingly insignificant things. 'Never say anything bad about Michael Jackson or Rap music' and 'If she doesn't know the answer she won't say anything.' I liked 'Never push her for an answer, she will react badly' and 'Keep your own calendar and a stash of candy bars (3 Musketeers are her favorite).' It was a whole book on who I am and what makes me tick.

At first I thought it odd, strange even, to keep such a ledger. I mean what was he going to do with that information? Write a 'tell all' book on me? Who would want to read it? Is he planning to blackmail me on something? No. That's not the nature of information he was collecting. He was documenting how he saw me and how to better get along with me. But eventually I came to find it cute that not only did he take the time to learn every square inch of me, mentally, emotionally, physically, financially, socially, etc. but he kept a permanent record. It was crazy yet endearing. Though I have often wondered why he never mentioned that he was doing this. And I never mentioned that I read it. I only read it that one time. For truly!

I wonder if other men, or women for that matter, do this sort of thing. Do they take the time to learn everything there is to know about someone they claim is important to them? Do they keep this information with them so that they can easily access it? Hmmmm…..

I looked for that journal. I couldn't find it.

Just thought I'd share.