On every block a memory

Today it occurred to me just how enmeshed my and Karen's life became in such a short amount of time and how much we lived and loved. On the one hand this can be measured simply by what we did in those 14 months: we re-connected, feel in love, got engaged, moved in with each other, started a family, and was married. There are also the vacations we took: Las Vegas a mere month after we met; St. Martin where we said "I love you" to each other for the first time; Florida for me to meet her family; North Carolina, twice, for two weddings; and Canada for our honeymoon. All these things would be a lot of things to happen in two people's lives if they were spread out over several years. But something struck me tonight while I was walking home from the subway on Flatbush avenue.

The route along Seventh Avenue from the subway to our apartment is about seven blocks. As I walked it today I realized that just about every block had a strong memory of Karen for me. I hope you'll indulge me recounting them briefly here:

Park Place to Sterling Place -- About a month into our relationship Karen, who had also just started at PS 321, was invited to a girls-only party at a colleague's house. I remember going there to meet and her telling me, with a great amount of excitement, about how glad she was to be getting to know the other teachers at a social event and how comfortable she felt among them. I just felt wonderful getting to wrap my arms around her.

St. John's Place to Lincoln Place -- Chiles & Chocolate is a fantastic Mexican restaurant, specializing in Oaxcan cuisine. We first ate there on our third date, when we sat in the front by the window. The second time was on Valentine's Day, the only one we celebrated together, the night before we left for St. Martin. Each time the food was amazing: flavorful and spicy, just the way Karen liked it!

Lincoln Place to Berkeley Place -- While we went to Chiles & Chocolate only twice, we went to Santa Fe, either for dinner of just for drinks, numerous times. I have many memories of Santa Fe from over the years, but the strongest and most lasting are of sitting at the bar with Karen, sharing guacamole and an entree, sipping cold Dos Equis. Also on that block is Mister Wonton, our favorite Chinese take-out and one of the places Karen would go to for lunch, often times calling me while she was there to say hello and see how my day was going.

Berkeley Place to Union Street -- On this block is Roma Pizza, not the best in the neighborhood but where we grabbed a couple of slices while we were at a framing store (on Union Street) picking out matting and frames for several pieces of art. There is also the dinner at which we used to eat brunch after yoga and the dry cleaner where she brought two pairs of maternity jeans to be hemmed only a week before she died.

Union Street to President Street -- Seven Nails, upstairs from the street, is the salon Karen took me to for my first manicure and pedicure. It was the day after I gave her the engagement ring - yes, Virginia, I proposed without a ring - and she wanted her nails to be as pretty as the new ring on her finger. She was positively glowing and radiated throughout the room. I should also point out that I gave her the ring while we were having dinner just steps down Union Street from Seventh Avenue.

President Street to Carroll Street -- Park Slope Copier has been a fixture on Seventh Avenue for almost as long as I can remember and it was were we spent quite a bit of time in the days before the wedding finalizing the program cards. As often happens before any type of party, we had several last minute things to address. Some of them with the potential to cause tension between us. But this never happened. Even when we had to correct the layout, paper, and format several times, we worked as one to have the program card done perfectly with nothing but smiles and good nature because, as I've said about other things, we were doing it together.

Carroll Street between Seventh and Eighth Avenues -- On the corner of Carroll Street and Fisk Place is a tree whose blossoms and leaves cascades over the sidewalk creating a natural archway. Perhaps a quarter of the times we walked along that block, which was literally dozens of times, Karen would comment about how she had her picture taken under the tree many years ago and how amazing it was to her to be living just around the corner from it. She would also say how beautiful it was. I still walk under that tree and think of her each and every time that I do.

I could go on, noting locations on nearly every block along Seventh Avenue that evoke powerful memories of Karen. However it is not only in Park Slope. As I walk throughout other parts of Brooklyn and Manhattan I am constantly passing places and sights that remind me of times spent with Karen. The sources of memories are all around me, not just in the pictures I keep in our apartment but in nearly every step I take.

The simple act of going to the subway or the store becomes, in a literal sense, a stroll down memory lane for me. The path, however, has changed now that I walk it alone. The Carroll Street tree remains, but the beauty of it has faded slightly. The Park Slope Copier's storefront is unaltered, but now I think of it as where the memorial card was printed. Seven Nails still does manicures and pedicures, but I can't imagine the room is as bright now despite the floor to ceiling windows on two sides. Roma is just another pizza parlor and Mr. Wonton is just another take-out Chinese restaurant. Savory smells waft from Chiles & Chocolate and I can almost smell their homemade hot sauce as I walk by, but the front table merely reflects against the glass of the window.

Of all the spots along Seventh Avenue only Santa Fe, where I worked many years ago and drank and ate for many more years, remains relatively unchanged in the wake of what has happened. I've been back there several times and found the warm embrace of old friends there, as well being able to feel and remember the times spent there with Karen.

Every block contains a memory of her. Now I face all these reminders consistently throughout each and every day - from the moment my eyes open to see the empty spot on the bed next to me where she laid, to the routine act of trying to move about the city, to coming home at the end of the day to an empty apartment. Even were I to want to avoid the reminders of Karen I don't believe it would be possible to do so. Make no mistake, the memories are of happy occasions and activities. Yet it is the knowledge that those times are forever gone and all my plans for the future are lost that is my struggle now.