Two Kisses for Maddy_ A Memoir of Loss & Love - Matthew Logelin [74]
When I had visited Minnesota in June, I spent some time with Rachel, a reader who had become a dear friend; after that, she and the other Creeps decided they wanted to raise money for Maddy and me to give us a financial cushion. They asked everyone to donate seven dollars for the 5K, because that was Liz’s favorite number.
This trip back would be my sixth flight with Maddy, and I was getting better at it. I’ll admit that I had a lot of help—there is something about traveling as a single dad that gets you the immediate sympathy vote. A woman can be standing there with two toddlers, four suitcases, an infant, and a cat, and people are kind of like Yeah, who gives a shit? But stick a guy in an airport with a baby and a backpack, and flight attendants and passersby will fall all over themselves to make his life easier. But even without the kind assistance of others, we now had a routine: we cuddled up together in the window seat during takeoffs and tried to nap all the way until the landings. (Usually. When Madeline was fussy I apologized to our seatmates, often offering to buy them drinks). We made it to Minneapolis without incident, and after I picked up a lemonade at the French Meadow in concourse F near Gate 3, we headed to Candee and Tom’s to meet up with the rest of the grandparents.
A few days later I was standing in the wet grass, feeling a little nervous. Running is not my favorite activity, but more than the fear of having a heart attack, it was the location of the run that was getting to me. Lake Calhoun was the obvious and, for everyone else, ideal spot. Minneapolis residents regularly converged upon it in the summer, making parking nearly impossible, though the struggle was always considered worth it, and the paved road around the lake was just about 5K. Liz’s childhood home was on Lake Calhoun.
The day of the run was absolutely gorgeous. It felt like everyone had shown up—guys I’d known since fifth grade, friends from college, even my mom’s hairdresser. We gathered near the volleyball courts, and when we were confident that pretty much everyone had arrived, I stood in front of the crowd to thank them for coming. Minutes later people started moving in groups around the lake.
I had A.J. by my side and Maddy fitted securely into her new jogging stroller, and with my best friend and my best gal, I started to run. The sky was blue, without even a hint of clouds. The sun glinted off the lake. I made it about a quarter of a mile before the running became comically difficult for me. My knees ached and my heart felt as though it were trying to escape my chest, but I pushed on, trying to make it at least halfway around the lake before starting to walk. It should have been muggy, but it wasn’t—it was perfect. A perfect day to remember Liz.
The Calhoun Beach Club was now directly ahead of me, the beautiful brick building that contained so many of my most cherished memories. This was the place that caused me to break down when I was in Minnesota for Liz’s second funeral. All I could think was that she had not reached her thirty-first birthday. I knew I would be seeing this building today, but still I was unprepared. I was trying to combat the emotions I was feeling at the same time I was trying to manage the physical pain I was inflicting upon my body. I tried to focus on breathing, but the pain in my chest made it almost impossible. I tried to focus on the pain in both knees as they absorbed the shock of my feet hitting the pavement below. I tried to focus on anything but the emotional cloud that had