In Memoriam: Judi Greene
Let me tell you about the woman I love
Jerry Greene
FROM THE CHEAP SEATS
August 12, 2007
Dear friends: My world fell apart one week ago.
Judi Greene, my wife for nearly 42 years, died in her sleep after 30 hours
in a hospice and, before that, many weeks in the Florida Hospital Altamonte.
Liver cancer was the primary cause, but mostly her sweet body just had
to rest. It had carried her even sweeter soul as far as it could.
I am writing to you for many reasons. So many have been kind enough to
inquire about the absence of the Cheap Seats that you deserve an explanation.
And the act of writing has curative powers for me. Plus, I want to give
you just a glimpse of the woman I've loved all these glorious years. But
perhaps the main reason for this message is because I know many of you
have had to deal with the grief of losing a loved one and many of you
still have that in front of you. Talking about it helps.
Still, no easy answers from me.
It hurts.
But the severity of the pain reflects the strength of your love. That
awful shortness of breath as you struggle to cope with the magnitude of
your loss is a testament to the priceless value of the person who has
stepped behind the final veil.
After a week, I am discovering that the veil is paper-thin. Judi is so
close. I can almost hear her, almost touch her.
Let me tell you just a little about her. We met in the Army. She outranked
me then, which should have given me a clue as to who would be the commanding
officer in our relationship. Back then, I was an assistant director of
a traveling Army musical show based at Fort McPherson in Atlanta. Judi
was a singer who came to our show to audition. After the audition, my
words to the director were:
"Send her back. She'll be nothing but trouble."
I am forever in his debt for ignoring my advice.
Three months later, I proposed while we were watching TV and eating popcorn.
I actually got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. And she said
three little words that I shall never forget:
"Pass the salt."
Did I mention her rotten sense of humor?
Let me interrupt myself to make a point that applies to all of us. When
you look at a stranger, especially an elder, try to remember you cannot
see who they have been and cannot know how much respect they probably
deserve. An elderly man, now frail in body, may have been anything earlier
in life: a hero or a king. If you're going to make assumptions about someone
just on his or her physical appearance, assume the best.
As for Judi and I, we've been together since I passed the salt. Building
a life together turned us into a team in the truest sense. Four children
born but the first, Stephen, died of a crib death, so we shared that grief
long ago. Now I have three children (and two grandchildren) living in
Orlando for constant support.
And friends. So many friends who have meant so much to both of us. The
grief has been hard in the last week, but, thankfully, I cannot imagine
how awful it must be to be alone. Friendship is the foundation that gives
our lives strength and meaning.
And a word for the professional caretakers. Judi and one of our daughters
have been hospitalized at the same time, even occupying adjoining rooms
on the ICU floor at Florida Hospital Altamonte. (The daughter came home
from another hospital Friday.) I cannot express my gratitude to the nurses,
doctors and technicians who gave us so much care and concern in recent
weeks. These are good people doing the best kind of work.
Speaking of work, God willin' and the creek don't rise, the Cheap Seats
will be back Tuesday. I need the work (and the paycheck), and I hope many
of you will continue to appreciate the Seats for trying to offer a Page
Two alternative to the harsher realities of our daily sports world.
As for Judi's ongoing journey, religious scholar Henry Van Dyke wrote:
"And just at the moment when someone says: 'There, she is gone!'
-- there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to
take up the glad shout: 'Here she comes!' "
So Judi is with her grandmother, her dad, our first son and many treasured
friends. And I know Judi and I will be together again.
Correction: Judi is with me now, just on the other side of that gossamer
veil. And we will be together always as long as I have a heart.
In fact, she's speaking to me now. She's saying:
"Pass the salt."
Editor's note: Readers wishing to extend their condolences to Jerry Greene
can send them in care of the Orlando Sentinel, 633 North Orange Ave.,
P.O. Box 2833, Orlando, Fla., 32802.
Jerry Greene can be reached at jgreene@orlandosentinel.com, although he
apologizes for falling woefully behind in answering his mail. Copyright
© 2007, Orlando Sentinel
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