Thursday, November 20, 2014

Dumpster Tour

It originated in Houston.

Jill and I would decide to hit a movie, head to the theatre, park, and walk in.  Innocuous enough, right?  Incorrect.

It was in this short walk from car to theatre that invariably led us past a dry-heave-inducing dumpster.  Let me be clear.  It didn't matter the theatre, the parking location, or even the time of day.  That stinky son of a bitch was always present.  And Jilly didn't miss an opportunity to razz me for it.

"Taking your girlfriend out on the town and showing off the smells of the city.  Well played, Lustberg," she'd poke at me.

That's fine.  I could take it.  And apparently Jilly could, too...b/c we kept going to the movies.

And then it spread...though still w/in Houston.

If you know anything about Houston, you know that this city is not short on good eateries.  Fantastic restaurants abound.  And we hit plenty of them.  But, for whatever reason, we Jill began noticing more reeking dumpsters.  Were they following us?  Were they multiplying (w/ exponentionally excessive stench)?  Was Jill working some angle w/ the city, positioning them just so, so that she could continue to rib me for these pre dinner smells?  Whatever the reason, these suckers were everywhere...every date night.

It occurred w/ such frequency that Jill quickly coined the term "dumpster tour," as in, "Oh, I didn't know this evening out included another dumpster tour.  Bonus for me."

When we moved to St. Louis, the dumpster tour moved w/ us (along w/ other cities we hit throughout our years together).

And I don't know if it's a positive that every time I walk by a (reeking) dumpster that I'll think of my best friend.  But I do hold this memory close and share it w/ Rory b/c it is a prime example of her mommy's effortless ability to turn something stinky into smiles.

I don't know how long I'll keep this blog going, but my intent is to go indefinitely.  If something strikes me, moves me, or just generally reminds me of Jill, I may be compelled to share it w/ you.  Selfishly, it's cathartic.  But, this space also gives me us a place to share Jill memories so that she lives on w/in us all w/ rich definition.

To that end, I request all of you to share your Jilly stories w/ me, w/ Rory, thru posts (here), texts, phone, and face messages.  Say them loud.  Share them often.  She's worth it.

Rory and I have made a promise to share at least one 'Mommy memory' with one another every night.  Join us.

All love,

J, J, & r

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