Friday, October 17, 1975
"Beth, I'm going stir crazy in here."
"I know, honey." Hospital regulations eventually had to be enforced, and when visiting hours were over, I now took a cab to the hotel instead of sleeping in Al's hospital room. As if we were teenagers dating, Al and I would talk on the telephone late into the night.
"Can't you sneak back in here for a while? You know, we haven't had a chance for a 'proper' welcome home."
"Albert Calavicci! For one thing, it's only been two days since your surgery! For another....that's just tacky."
He laughed heartily, and then let out a small groan as his newly- reconstructed ribs apparently voiced their protest.
I murmured, "I promise you this—when they release you from the hospital, baby, you'll have a whole new perspective on what constitutes a proper welcome home."
"Well, if they keep dragging out these surgeries, that might not be til Christmas," groused Al. If he had his way, the doctors would repair everything in one fell swoop, never mind that his recovery would be more intensely painful. He grunted in discomfort again.
"Al, if you're in pain, call a nurse, sweetie."
"Don't need to, I'm already talking to my favorite one. Besides, it only hurts when I laugh." A sharp intake of breath raised its objection to his words. Before I could argue on the basis of this evidence, he quickly said, "I just turned the wrong way, Beth."
"You should let them know you're hur...uncomfortable. They can increase your pain meds."
I could picture his hand flapping dismissively in the air. "It's nothing, Beth. Really, honey, I can handle it."
"I don't understand why you want to 'handle it,' Al. You shouldn't be feeling anything. Obviously, they're not giving you a strong enough dose."
He chuckled, "I'm not even going to try and fight you on this, because I know tomorrow morning you're going to have a little consultation at the nurse's station, and my painkillers'll get increased anyway."
I tucked my feet underneath me in the chair and chuckled softly. "Fine, be pigheaded tonight."
"Don't make me laugh," he warned, his tone evidence of the large smile on his face. The small grunt as he apparently shifted position again gradually transformed into a yawn.
"Oh, it's late!" I said, his yawn prompting me to check my watch. "I need to let you go to sleep."
"Do I sound like I want to go to sleep?"
"Apart from yawning, you mean?"
"What did I just tell you about making me laugh?" He chuckled softly, and after a few moments, sighed. "Beth, I wish they'd still let you stay here."
"So do I, baby." I looked around my empty hotel room. Sure, I had a much more comfortable bed than the cot I'd been sleeping on, but it was too far from Al. Never mind that I was only a short cab ride from the hospital; anything that wasn't in the same room with him was too far away.
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, Captain Griffith stopped by after you left this evening. He said I can pretty much write my own ticket after this."
"He did? Al, that's fabulous! What are you thinking about requesting?"
Al paused before answering. "Well, it'll obviously depend on getting a clean bill of health before the year's out, but I was considering the space program."
"Hmmm," I said after letting the silence stretch out far too long. Noncommittally, though my stomach had dropped at his words, I asked, "Isn't that dangerous?"
"Well, no one can shoot you down when you're orbiting the moon," he said. "I was just thinking about it, anyway. It's only one of the avenues Captain Griffith suggested."
I felt guilty hearing him backpedal from something I knew he dearly wanted to do. At the same time, outer space was even farther away than Vietnam. If something went wrong with his mission, I'd certainly never see him again.
"If you don't want me to do it, Beth, I won't give it another thought," he continued, taking my silence for blanket disapproval. "You're the most important thing in the world to me."
"It's not that I don't want you to do it, Al. It's just...I just got you back and..." I broke off as tears suddenly filled my voice.
"Oh, Beth. God, I'm an idiot."
I silently cursed the lump in my throat for its betrayal. "No, you're not. You're looking at a whole world of options that are waiting for you."
"Look, I don't even have to decide until I'm out of the hospital. I didn't mean to upset you, honey."
"You didn't," I lied, willing my tone to remain cheerful. "Just give me some time to get used to the idea."
"I love you, Beth. More than anything. And I promise you—you're never going to take a backseat to anything else, not ever again. I mean it—if you don't want me to pursue astronaut training, I won't do it. No regrets."
"I love you, too. Like I said, just give me some time to get used to the idea. We can talk about it again. I'm not closing the door on this yet." I chewed my lip for a moment, again wishing I was in the room with him, when a thought struck me. "Al? Can you see the stars from your window, love?"
A small moan of pain escaped as he shifted to look. "Yeah."
"Me, too. I'm wishing on that bright one right below the moon. Can you see it?"
His voice was softer now. "Yeah, I see it."
"I'm wishing that you can feel how much I love you, the kiss I'd be giving you right now if I was in that room with you."
"I can," he whispered. "I'll be dreaming of it until I see you tomorrow morning."
"Then I'll be sure it measures up to your dreams. Sleep well, Al. I love you."
"Goodnight, Beth. I love you."
Reluctantly, we hung up. I drew my feet up into the chair and hugged my knees, staring at the stars. I mulled over our conversation, weighing my worries for his safety against his willingness to give up the chance to soar next to those stars for me.
"Beth, I'm going stir crazy in here."
"I know, honey." Hospital regulations eventually had to be enforced, and when visiting hours were over, I now took a cab to the hotel instead of sleeping in Al's hospital room. As if we were teenagers dating, Al and I would talk on the telephone late into the night.
"Can't you sneak back in here for a while? You know, we haven't had a chance for a 'proper' welcome home."
"Albert Calavicci! For one thing, it's only been two days since your surgery! For another....that's just tacky."
He laughed heartily, and then let out a small groan as his newly- reconstructed ribs apparently voiced their protest.
I murmured, "I promise you this—when they release you from the hospital, baby, you'll have a whole new perspective on what constitutes a proper welcome home."
"Well, if they keep dragging out these surgeries, that might not be til Christmas," groused Al. If he had his way, the doctors would repair everything in one fell swoop, never mind that his recovery would be more intensely painful. He grunted in discomfort again.
"Al, if you're in pain, call a nurse, sweetie."
"Don't need to, I'm already talking to my favorite one. Besides, it only hurts when I laugh." A sharp intake of breath raised its objection to his words. Before I could argue on the basis of this evidence, he quickly said, "I just turned the wrong way, Beth."
"You should let them know you're hur...uncomfortable. They can increase your pain meds."
I could picture his hand flapping dismissively in the air. "It's nothing, Beth. Really, honey, I can handle it."
"I don't understand why you want to 'handle it,' Al. You shouldn't be feeling anything. Obviously, they're not giving you a strong enough dose."
He chuckled, "I'm not even going to try and fight you on this, because I know tomorrow morning you're going to have a little consultation at the nurse's station, and my painkillers'll get increased anyway."
I tucked my feet underneath me in the chair and chuckled softly. "Fine, be pigheaded tonight."
"Don't make me laugh," he warned, his tone evidence of the large smile on his face. The small grunt as he apparently shifted position again gradually transformed into a yawn.
"Oh, it's late!" I said, his yawn prompting me to check my watch. "I need to let you go to sleep."
"Do I sound like I want to go to sleep?"
"Apart from yawning, you mean?"
"What did I just tell you about making me laugh?" He chuckled softly, and after a few moments, sighed. "Beth, I wish they'd still let you stay here."
"So do I, baby." I looked around my empty hotel room. Sure, I had a much more comfortable bed than the cot I'd been sleeping on, but it was too far from Al. Never mind that I was only a short cab ride from the hospital; anything that wasn't in the same room with him was too far away.
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, Captain Griffith stopped by after you left this evening. He said I can pretty much write my own ticket after this."
"He did? Al, that's fabulous! What are you thinking about requesting?"
Al paused before answering. "Well, it'll obviously depend on getting a clean bill of health before the year's out, but I was considering the space program."
"Hmmm," I said after letting the silence stretch out far too long. Noncommittally, though my stomach had dropped at his words, I asked, "Isn't that dangerous?"
"Well, no one can shoot you down when you're orbiting the moon," he said. "I was just thinking about it, anyway. It's only one of the avenues Captain Griffith suggested."
I felt guilty hearing him backpedal from something I knew he dearly wanted to do. At the same time, outer space was even farther away than Vietnam. If something went wrong with his mission, I'd certainly never see him again.
"If you don't want me to do it, Beth, I won't give it another thought," he continued, taking my silence for blanket disapproval. "You're the most important thing in the world to me."
"It's not that I don't want you to do it, Al. It's just...I just got you back and..." I broke off as tears suddenly filled my voice.
"Oh, Beth. God, I'm an idiot."
I silently cursed the lump in my throat for its betrayal. "No, you're not. You're looking at a whole world of options that are waiting for you."
"Look, I don't even have to decide until I'm out of the hospital. I didn't mean to upset you, honey."
"You didn't," I lied, willing my tone to remain cheerful. "Just give me some time to get used to the idea."
"I love you, Beth. More than anything. And I promise you—you're never going to take a backseat to anything else, not ever again. I mean it—if you don't want me to pursue astronaut training, I won't do it. No regrets."
"I love you, too. Like I said, just give me some time to get used to the idea. We can talk about it again. I'm not closing the door on this yet." I chewed my lip for a moment, again wishing I was in the room with him, when a thought struck me. "Al? Can you see the stars from your window, love?"
A small moan of pain escaped as he shifted to look. "Yeah."
"Me, too. I'm wishing on that bright one right below the moon. Can you see it?"
His voice was softer now. "Yeah, I see it."
"I'm wishing that you can feel how much I love you, the kiss I'd be giving you right now if I was in that room with you."
"I can," he whispered. "I'll be dreaming of it until I see you tomorrow morning."
"Then I'll be sure it measures up to your dreams. Sleep well, Al. I love you."
"Goodnight, Beth. I love you."
Reluctantly, we hung up. I drew my feet up into the chair and hugged my knees, staring at the stars. I mulled over our conversation, weighing my worries for his safety against his willingness to give up the chance to soar next to those stars for me.