Understandably, it's been a surreal week. I am not sure if Dan and I truly comprehend that Tom is gone. Sometimes we'll just be sitting there in our living room, our eyes will catch each others and we will shake our heads in disbelief, thinking the same thing. It all seems so stupid and senseless.
We were hoping to go to the funeral in Dallas, but the airfare prices were beyond our means, so we were glad when some of Tom's friends put together an impromptu wake at Chez Josephine, one of Tom's favorite restaurants. His father, mother, sister and twin brother were in town, so it felt comforting to pay our respects and have a drink with all of Tom's friends--he had so many. For a man who loved weddings, Tom hated funerals so having the occasion at the restaurant seemed fitting, especially since the waiters who were serving us actually knew who Tom was and said he was so great. Yes, Tom was the type to become a restaurant regular at a classy French joint, so it is perfect.
With Tom gone, it does seem to be the end of an era. Tom's roommates are probably giving up the apartment on Waverly at the end of the month (which was coincidence that their lease is over). We had so many great memories in that apartment, not to mention that it was the site for Dan's weekly poker game. Tom was kind of the center of poker in that group, so it's uncertain if or where the game will go on. And regardless, when we get together, apartment or no apartment, poker or not, it will always feel like there is someone missing.
To bring us some levity this week, Dan and I decided to go to our first dance lesson. We're not planning to do a formal first dance at our wedding, but we do want to look good on the dance floor, especially since most of the music will be New Orleans style, so we decided to take some swing dance lessons. Even though learning how to dance is on the 100 things to do list, let the record state that this was all Dan's idea. I had suggested a few months ago that we go away for the weekend, and he said, no, I want to use the money on dance lessons. He did all the research and booked our class. Not that I am complaining. I love it. My insta-love stems from 15 years of dancing school as a kid tied into my love of Gene Kelly and Hollywood musical dance numbers. It's my fantasy come true. I always wanted to be one of those girls in that old-school Gap khaki commercial.
Dan is such a perfectionist that I think he was little irritated that he didn't know how to dance after the first lesson. I hope that he doesn't get too frustrated because I like him as my partner. I think it's embarrassing that most Americans don't know how to dance (me included). I think it should be taught in schools along with foreign languages as a requirement. Dan wondered out loud if any of our other guests knew how to dance properly besides the older folk and the Europeans and then we remembered: Tom. He sure knew his way around a dance floor. At Kim and Nien's wedding, he asked Kim's mom to dance and I had already warned my mom, "hey, there's going to be this guy who you don't know who will ask you to dance."
We'll try to make him proud.