I just finished listening to CD’s by Frank Sinatra. In the past few years, I’ve developed a liking for and appreciation of his voice and musical know-how. I don’t like the early Sinatra voice. Compared to his glory years: 1950 to the seventies, his young voice lacks richness and resonance.

He recorded one of my favorite songs in the Spring of 1960, “Fools Rush In.” One day last year when Bernie hadn’t been in the nursing home very long, I was listening to it. When Sinatra came to the lyrics, “When we met, I felt my life begin…” I said to myself, Yes! that’s the way it was on that cold day in Kenosha, Wisconsin. That’s how I felt when I met Bernie.

The past was of no interest to me. I focused on the present and when I would see him again. If he was with me, I was totally in the present. Otherwise, I had our next meeting in my mind and lived life on a temporary basis. I felt lucky if he had an address I could write to. He was driving through the Midwest at the time.

I wrote him a note last year giving him the lyrics to the song and my reaction to them. I felt a little shy.

He read the the note carefully and smiled. I was happy.