The hat has arrived!

The arrival of my new hat was but one small item which caused small rejoicing today. Throughout the day, my mind was occupied by all sorts of inconsequential minutia. The news events of the day were along side these, as well as memories of Laura. It wasn't until the end of the day, however, that a clearer impression of the day's personal significance was obtained.

Meanwhile, as I rehashed the various inconsequental minutia, work was tediously slow. Perhaps tonight I will get sufficient sleep and that will aid me tomorrow. One small odd event, an exception to the tedium, was not remembered until Julia spoke of the same event happening to her.

In the pocket of one of the marine blue trousers upon which I was attaching bloodstripes, I heard a tinkle. One quarter and a base for a ribbon were clinking together. I attached the metal base to the invoice for these pants and put the quarter in my drawer. I, mildly amused, thought it might be just what I need to buy a drink someday from the vending machine across the way some future thirsty day.

Julia reported that one unusual event of her day was finding a quarter. Her back is mostly healed now, so she is more ambulatory, and she walked to the atrium to take her lunch. As she ate her soup, she noticed a quarter by the wall, and picked it up.

It was sitting where a vending machine used to be. The director of her department had found its clatter annoying while he was working and had it moved to a place where he could not hear the loud machine so well.

On accessing the importance of us both finding quarters, Julia suggested ''Laura's trying to give us a message.'' We are always needing quarters for getting water and doing laundry. ''Laura's telling us 'Don't worry, things will be alright. You'll be taken care of,'' Julia, who is given to worrying at times, explained. I thought it was an happy co-incidence, but thought little more of it.

Later this evening, we had PBS on, and they were featuring a concert to dedicate the new Disney auditorium in LA. The densely packed sounds of a full orchestra serenaded us while I answered posts on a discussion group. One song the orchestra played was a misty, moody song from the forties. Julia noticed its lyrics:

She gave your very first kiss to you That was Laura, but she's only a dream She gave your very first kiss to you That was Laura, but she's only a dream Lyric by Johnny Mercer Music by David Raksin Written in 1945 for the 20th Century Fox film, "Laura"

The song speaks of 'something half remembered, Of something that never happened . . .' I might not be able to fully recall the 'The laugh that float[ed] on a summer night', but it certainly happened. We laughed often. Laura had a robust laugh, for she enjoyed life thoroughly. Now, that she's passed, the memories may themselves have the insubstantiality of a dream. But that is the only ephemeral part. There are solid events and feelings behind those memories that existed and continue to exist for as long as I remember them. As the Egyptian Book Of The Dead states, ''That which is remembered, lives.''

As I listened to the rich melody, I recalled Laura's kisses. Yes, she did give me my 'very first kiss'. Her lips to mine, I knew the most heady sensuality. As I recalled that memory, which this song brought forth, I remembered my reverie in the car earlier as I was driving home from work today. Another song, quite different, from the eighties, about magic and a girl, played on the radio, prodding me to memories of Laura.

I was thinking of the weepy night I'd had a couple of nights ago, and how I cried, because 'I'm Not Perfect'. I remembered similar sob fests in Laura's arms, in which she assured me I was 'perfect for her'. I recalled the early days of our love, in which I so enthralled her. Nothing can ever take away the fact that those days, that love, really happened. In that nothing can take those away, it's like that love still exists.

I nearly cried while I was driving, but I blinked back the tears.

Now, at the day's summation, I am glad all these events have happened for me to remember that clear impression of Laura looking at me with love welling up in her heart, making her eyes glow. That love was real. And that love IS real.

The inspirational radio song MIGHT have been Magic by The CARS:

oh oh it's magic when i'm with you oh oh it's magic you know it's true

Yes, I think this was the one:

love darts in your eyes how far can you take it till you realize there's magic in your eyes

Laura sure had 'magic in her eyes' and it was so often 'magic' when I was with her. Yes, it is so, near to the time of Samhain, (Laura's favorite holiday), the borders between the spirits passed and those still living have opened to allow Laura to give both Julia and I a strong, clear message:

''Our love was real. Our love IS real.'' I'm glad I can hear this message so clearly.

Magical Laura . . .