THE WIND PHONE
A Last Wedding Anniversary and a Chair in a Trunk
Portland and marrow and hidden things
On June 1, 2015, my musician spouse was diagnosed with ALS. Almost four months later, we celebrated our 27th wedding anniversary in a city we’d always wanted to visit, Portland, Oregon. The following is the story of that weekend, a chapter of my memoir of that time.
In the days leading up to this trip, I suggested to Marty that we cut his hair.
We’d been watching Peaky Blinders, a television mob series set in Ireland shortly after WWI, and he’d commented on the haircuts — extremely short sides, with rascally long top. Such clean lines. Reminded me of when we first met, and I was still a hairdresser.
“I can’t wear that cut,” he said. “My hair is too thin.” That’s what a barber told him some time before. It occurred to me that if we coloured it too, then the line of “long top” would show.
With this suggestion, I could see his old spark, and it warmed my heart. I went to buy the colour the next day, in a box with a bright-eyed redhead on it. I liked to think it wouldn’t be our last anniversary, but knew that, at the very least, it would be the last with him able to walk.
