Just a thought... The greatest healing therapy is friendship and love. [Hubert H. Humphrey]
Happy Tuesday! I've a story about angels, signs and just plain luck to share with you here tomorrow. But first, where we are today and just how much of a lift it's giving three of us. Yes, three.
A few days ago, Rob and I could feel a case of the blues pulling up over us like a big thick blanket. I came up with an idea of how to cure ours and maybe help someone we love who had had just a hellish Christmas season. We called Mike Cooper and he booked a flight right away. And so here we are...or there we were: we left Vegas today after our short visit and adventure together.
After 90 minute delay leaving YYZ, Cooper arrived at McCarran at just about midnight on Saturday. Because we drove, we could be Mike's personal chauffeurs for everything he might need. And like so many who've met us over the years on business trips, we made sure we didn't quite spell Mike's name right...
We went straight to his hotel so he could get checked in after hours, but the next two days were just good for the soul. Since we're staying in a different, budget, dog-friendly hotel (which I'll tell you about later in the week), we would get up and ready and meet him and have some fun, enjoy a few amazing dinners out (the barbecue joint Lucille's in the Red Rock Hotel is one I've mentioned before and not to be missed) and mostly just reconnect through misty-eyed memories and discussions about moving forward, staying upright and feeling like things will never be the same.
Of course they won't; I was able to share with Mike a quote from writer Anne Lamott that she graciously agreed could be included in my book. It is the truest metaphor for survival after loss that I've ever heard or read. Bless Anne for allowing us all to share in her wisdom.
You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.
These last few days, we danced together, we three. We laughed (always at the most inappropriate things) and we just talked. And talked. It was so good to reconnect and, although playing at machines is probably one of the least sociable things a person can do, we did a few hours here and there and just let Mike have some mindless fun and win a bit of money while he was at it.
Mike's back doing his Coop's Classics show on CHFI, something that is as good for him to be doing as it is for you to listen to. Just having a purpose and a reason to put on makeup (oh wait - that was me, not him!) can be so helpful in getting through the early days and months of grieving. Once again, radio comes to the rescue.
So our adventure together has come to an end. Rob laughed harder these past three days than he has in months, so it was wonderful for his soul, too. Me? To quote Carol Burnett's theme song, "I'm so glad we had this time together." We're hoping to see Mike again in February when the book launch on the 26th brings us east, but we're counting the weeks 'til the river cruise Mike and I (and Rob, of course) are hosting together in April. There'll be laughs, there will be tears and there will be a whole lotta hugging - guaranteed.
Talk to you here tomorrow with the most amazing things that happened of an angelic nature in Vegas. They were incredible, but they really did happen.
(@erindavis on Twitter)