On August 31, 2002, Don Shepherd flew from his home in Florida into Newwark airport, and met me in person for the first time, after we had been marinating in our long-distance/not yet defined relationship / incredible friendship for three and a half years. Because of past trauma I had been through, I was terrified to meet him in person. I was scared he would hurt me, or change his mind about wanting to be with me once he saw that I was overweight and nowhere near perfect. (he already knew of course, but knowing and seeing are sometimes different things entirely.) I was scared that he would not choose me. My self esteem was at a low point due to my trauma, and my confidence levels were pretty much non-existent.
Due to a huge misunderstanding at the airport, and my cell phone being at about 7%, it took us almost 2 hours to find one another at the gate area. We both assumed wrongly that we were being stood up by the other person. Finally, just when I was about to give up and head back home in defeat, I saw that almost 6 ft 4 tall frame of kindness and love walking toward me. He wore jeans and a blue t-shirt that matched his piercing blue eyes, and when we finally hugged each other for the first time, it was the hug of arriving at home. We got on the bus back to my apartment, and he reached out and took my hand to hold as we sat there. I was still shaking, and he looked me in the eyes and said calmly: “There’s nothing to be nervous about now, Boo. We found each other, and I’m here now. Finally.” I rested my head on his comforting shoulder, and all our questions disappeared.
Back at my place, which he would move into three years later, I made him homemade lasagna – my Nana Mary’s famous recipe. We talked, we hugged some more, we laughed quite a bit. He fell in love with the lasagna, and with me. Then I surprised him with a gift – day passes, for two days in a row, to the U.S. Open tennis tournament. Don loved tennis, both as a fan and player. He had a killer lefty serve, and he almost went pro after high-school, but his mom didnt support his dreams of playing professionally, and so she wouldnt pay for him to continue. Instead, he ended up going into the Air Force, and instead of serving up 120 mph spinners across the net, he served in Desert Storm as a Flight Crew Chief. (see what I did there?) His passion for tennis never died though, and he continued playing in small leagues or just for fun as an adult. He had never been to NYC, and had always wanted to go to the U.S. Open. When he opened my gift that day, his blue eyes lit up the dull kitchen in my apartment, and his sense of boyhood wonder re-ignited.
We spent two full days at the Open, and he taught me so much about how to get the most out of being there, even though it was his first time there. He looked at the giant map they gave us upon entering the entrance gates to the grounds, and we were on our way to the adventure. “Okay, this match starts at 11am over on Court 7 – thats going to be an amazing matchup. Then we can go check out this one on Louis Armstrong , and then run over to this court and see Davenport. Then we’ll have lunch, and that should bring us to the Roddick match, and that could be a 3 hour plus event with lots of tiebreakers. Okay, it’s all set.” I followed him all day long, holding his hand and running through the crowds and getting in the different lines to attend the matches. We weaved in and out of the crowds with ease and precision, and he looked as if he was meant to be there. It was his element, and I was proud to be his date. We had an absolute blast, and spent two full days and nights there, each time getting back to my apartment around 2am in the morning. It was sheer bliss.
Once he moved in with me in 2005, we went to a lot more U.S. Opens together, and saw a whole lot of incredible tennis. We also watched SO MANY matches at home, late into the night when we both had to be at work the next morning. He would take me out to local courts and show me how to play, how to serve, how to return. He was such a great teacher. Eventually, Don found some courts a couple blocks from our apartment, and he started playing with some neighbors he met on our street. They would play regularly, a few times per week, just for fun and exercise. He would play his last tennis with that neighbor, on those courts, in 95 degree heat on Tuesday, July 12th. The next morning, he would die from cardiac arrest, and life would change forever.
Watching tennis after Don’s death has been rough for me. Even after all these years, I havent followed the U.S. Open much or the current players. Its just not the same without him. But this year, that started to change. This year, Serena Williams is retiring, and the U.S. Open is her final swan song. Because she has been such an amazing part of the sport , especially for women, I found myself wanting to watch her play. So I watched her inĀ round one, and then round two, and then round three, which is where she was finally defeated in a hell of a match filled with high-quality tennis. Sitting there watching that match with my husband Nick, I felt a sense of comfort and peace. I felt Don’s presence by my side, and I felt myself missing him and simultaneously being able to feel like he was there in some way. It felt like that hug we shared, all those years ago in that airport. Having Nick beside me, after recently coming through a double bypass that basically saved his life, and knowing that Don would always be here with me in multiple ways, and that the love Ive received from both of these men is beyond anything I could have ever imagined – it felt like I was once again , home. Finally.