B was always a writer. The writing happened to be dormant for many, many years. What was missing during that long period was inspiration and passion for writing. What brought both about, inspiration and passion, was the death of K. What lead to the inspiration and passion was the life that K gave B; the journey they had together for 48 years, the difficult journey of the last two years, the heartbreaking journey of the last 31 days of K’s life. That last month was an emotional journey that was only bearable because K wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. B had to summon the fortitude to give K what she wanted, what they both needed. B didn’t need to look for inspiration and passion during their life together because it was always present, from the very beginning. He recognized her specialness at the beginning and gave in to it. It was easy to do. He couldn’t do anything else. In her unique way she did the same with him, for him. They were a match made in heaven if heaven was the streets of Brooklyn.
B looked straight down at K’s beautiful face as she was laying on a beach towel at the New Jersey shore. Her eyes were closed. The first time he did this was in August, 1968 about 100 days before they were married. He did that many, many times over their life together. The last time was two days before she died, as she lay in the hospital bed in their bedroom in their home, 2800 miles from Brooklyn. He looked at her as he did so many times and her beauty was astonishing to him. There were no lines on her face, no wrinkles, even though she was 70 years old and her body was racked with cancer. He saw this incredible beauty that reflected their 48 years together. He said aloud to her over and over, “look how beautiful you are, look how beautiful she is”, as he was crying. He saw all of the glorious moments of their life together. Their son was either in the room or the next room. He doesn’t know if his son heard him. B hoped that K heard him. Less than 48 hours later she was gone.
If you looked at the six best pictures taken of K throughout her life, from when she was a little girl to when she was stricken with cancer, you would have thought as B did, she was so beautiful. If you knew her personally you would have been familiar with the depth of that beauty. As beautiful as her face was it did not compare to the person within. She gravitated to people who could use a friend. She gravitated towards people who had a big heart. She gravitated to people who could make her laugh. B knew how K captured his heart; by always being herself, by always being genuine. He did not really understand how he had captured her heart. But there was never any doubt that he did and, for that, he was forever grateful.