On a recent trip to New York, I pursued a silver-haired, bandy-legged guy four blocks up Park Avenue convinced it was Steve Martin. I overtook him, then stopped, trying to affect a look of bewilderment.
See that white-haired bloke approaching the lights? – that’s not Steve Martin.
“Am I anywhere near Bloomingdale’s?” I asked him.
He looked at me with Martin’s trademark currant-eyed, quizzical expression. “Er…I…not speek Eengleesh?”
Either Steve Martin was acting or this wasn’t Steve Martin. (Both feasible I guess – Martin must get sick of the spurious Bloomingdale’s query). I limped off in my ludicrous heels feeling slightly foolish.
Clearly I need glasses, as I have been convinced that I’ve seen Mark on numerous recently occasions too. Like, serious, Patrick Stewart-style quadruple take-type situations. (check that out here if you haven’t seen it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFMrBldVk0s).
He’s been in cars, on buses, on a crossing, coming round a corner; a round-faced, smiling apparition with that familiar gait which momentarily jolts my heart. I find this is happening with increasing frequency too. As if I am purposefully looking for Him in crowds, willing Him to appear.
Perhaps this is all part of the denial, the sniff of suspicion I have that He’s not really dead. That He’s fooling around and is apt to make a heroic return at any given moment. After all, that body I saw in the funeral home, with its not-quite-Mark nose – well, it could have been a waxwork. It sure as hell felt like one.
Logic tells me these are ghosts; doppelgangers, like Steve Martin’s German counterpart on Park Avenue.
But I am poised with a Bloomingdale’s-style query at the ready for the next time I see Him, just in case.
Wife After Death 
I have been thinking a lot about the reaction I will have the first time I think I see hugh. it’s pretty lame, but I can see me with tears rolling down my face, approaching the man and softy and gently telling him he looks exactly like my husband who passed away suddenly in may, and that even though I know he is not him, I wish I could just give him just one hug because I am so desperately lonely for hugh . I picture the man being a teensy bit flustered, but I also picture him allowing the hug and maybe even that he will put his arms around me and hug me back. I would try really hard to not come off as some crazy crack pot, just a very sad woman would have just a few seconds of pretending and then feel some comfort if it’s not too much trouble. but it could always end up one of hundreds of scenarios – recoiling, shooing me away, calling the police, or his wife or girlfriend who I didn’t notice was turned facing away, maybe looking at some cool shoes in a shop window, could overhear what I said, and start attacking me with a heavy duty handbag or a big umbrella. or she might be a Real Woman, like cindi lauper or tina turner, and have a heart, and say to her man, oh. do give the lady a hug if it will help her feel better. then she might give me a hug, too. then we might all cry together and thank our lucky stars for loving hearts who know other loving hearts, then walk away and never see each other again. but we would never forget one another, and mostly we would never forget the HUG. I think I have a pretty good chance of the best scenario, the one where I am allowed to hug the stranger in hugh’s personage plus being hugged back, because have you noticed that hugh’s name is just one letter beyond the word, HUG – HUGh. but no matter what, I wouldn’t give up if I experienced rejection. I look for him every where, and I will find my handsome and generous stand-in man and eventually – I know I WILL get that hug.
much love and good luck in finding what you are looking for, too, XOXO
karen
Oh Karen. Yes, I know exactly that you’re saying. I can’t guarantee I won’t suddenly accost a man who resembles Mark. Sometimes it’s not even the face that looks like him – it’s a hand, or the cut of his jeans. When you crave someone this badly, I guess you are open to seeing the tiniest things in anyone. You will get that hug, as I’m sure I will too. Much love to you lovely. Thinking of you. X
I’ve come to catch up on your blog because for some reason my subscription isn’t arriving in my inbox anymore and as August was hellish I haven’t had the time till now. I’ve been clicking “like” on your posts which I know, you know doesn’t mean I “like” this place of damnation you currently occupy. Still it’s the only way I have of saying I hear you and I acknowledge the validity of your grief and the journey you’re on. I wish they had a button for that. While they’re at it they should make one of those click “this” and it will make it go away or make it better buttons.
Hey Lori – that is so much appreciated and well put! Thank you. Come to mention it, I’ve just checked in with your blog and I haven’t been receiving notifications for it either despite having signed up for them. Thought you’d been rather quiet! Anyway, I really appreciate you sticking with me and continuing to read. It is, as I’ve said before, so strengthening. X