Friday, September 30, 2011

TODAY


                                                          
 It was the fall of 1964 and we were welcoming our second baby into the world and moving into our modest new rambler home in a subdivision of Brooklyn Park. The world was ripe with promises back then and we were building a family to fulfill our future, with untold joys yet to come. Somewhere in the background the New Christy Minstrels were singing their signature song “Today” I’ve never forgotten the words to that song. “Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine. I’ll taste your strawberries I’ll drink your sweet wine. A million tomorrows shall all pass away.  Ere I forget all the joy that is mine today. Those words, said so well, what I was feeling at that time.

Today with our babies grown and gone and their babies now going out into the world and my beautiful Kitty gone to her just reward I can only sit and think back to that wonderful era when God was so surely in his heaven and all was right with the world, for her and me-- and yes-- I cannot forget all the joy that was mine that day. All of the tomorrows that have since passed away, and will pass away, will do little to dim my memory of her and that time and that place and now it’s seems that is all I have left of her.

The song went on, I can’t be content with yesterday’s glory, I can’t live on promises winter to spring. But today is my moment and now is my glory. I’ll laugh and I’ll cry and I’ll sing. This is the hard part for me. To put aside yesterday’s glory and look to the future and yes, there is a future as lonely as it seems sometimes and I need to embrace it. I need to embrace it because I need to tell the world that when you let love be your life’s corner stone, life can be so good and even though its been taken away from you, it gave you the great example of how love feels and works. It defines you.

So back to the title of the song,--- Today.--- There are so many cliché’s that come to mind. “Today is the first day of the rest of my life. Today is the day the lord has made,” and many more. They all have merit but for me, today is one more day on my lonely trip into a new world without her. A friend once asked me if the amount of love that goes into a relationship like we had, is commensurate to the amount of grief that exists when it is taken away. I have to say I don’t know the answer to that but it seems to me that grief should subside at some point. I can’t envision the love that I had for her ever going away.

My wife had a porcelain candy dish that broke and she glued it back together. It still held candy and served its function but the scars of that break always showed. That’s the way my heart is today. I’ll glue it back together eventually and it will still work and it will love once more but the scars will always be there.  As for me and now--I will remain grateful that this heart of mine, once knew such love.


Wednesday, September 21, 2011

THE DAY THE LILY'S DIED


                                              
 It’s the mid point in September as I write this and already I sense a change in the winds that blow softly across our lake. Last night, I noticed, it was dark earlier than usual. I used to retire for the night when it got dark but last night I looked at my watch and said, “It’s dark all right, but its way to early. You’ll sleep your life away.” But the real turning point for me comes in early fall and it’s the behavior of the Day Lily’s. They seem to be the last of the summer flowers blooming that decorate our yard even though they were the first to poke their heads out of the cold ground in the spring. They’re not that pretty of a flower but they are so tenacious and predictable and they have bloomed for a long time now. But even the lily’s have their life span and I fear the time will be soon when they too will go away. Then the leaves on the trees will change once again and all too soon snowflakes will fall and we will have to wait once more for the lily’s to appear.

How many times in my seventy some years have I witnessed this theater of seasons and how many times has it not had an air of sadness to it? Oh there were times in my life when I paid scant attention to it, because I was so caught up in the day-to-day activities of working and raising a family. Or I was young and full of foolish ideas or lovesick beyond my wildest expectations but that has all changed and so has my demeanor. I was like the lily’s way back then. I too took a long time to bloom and when I did, I showed off my wares for half a lifetime but then they too wilted and it was time for me to rest and reevaluate my life.

“Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man never is, but always to be blest. The soul uneasy and confined from home. Rests and expatiates in a life to come.’
Alexander Pope wrote this in “An essay of man.” To show us that there is always hope, even in the depths of winter. For me that hope comes from past experience and knowing that some day, the lily’s will bloom again. Knowing that I’m not all used up and when care is pressing you down a bit, rest if you must but don’t you quit. I no longer use or need the talents I once acquired and mentioned before. You see I’ve developed a new sense of being, a new talent, a new love and a new me. It’s within all of us to do that, we only need to try.

 Many seniors have been in an early winter rut for far to long. They thought retirement was quitting time and that resting and dreaming is the norm, when its time to be moving on to bigger and better things. Yes lily’s have lived and died in our lives for all of our lifetimes. Way to many Lily’s, and some of them made up of wives and husbands, children and friends. We must make good use of every day the good lord gives us or waste it. So if metaphorically speaking, it’s October in your life or even late November and if you feel that your three quarters home from beginning to end, remember this. Keep your home fires going and maybe-- just maybe, the Lily’s will come back to bloom again.                                    

Saturday, September 10, 2011

COUPON SHOPPING 101


                                               
 Now that my wife is no longer here to do the grocery shopping I have inherited her bag of coupons and I had to swear on bended knee, with my hand on the family Bible, that I would use them religiously-- and get this-- add new ones as time goes along. The only thing that has gone in my mouth in the last fifty years, that didn’t have a coupon associated to it, was a pack of tic-taks I stole and food that was given to me. So yesterday I started out on my first shopping adventure. Keep in mind here I’m not a patient man. My father was not a patient man and my son is not a patient man. It’s in our genes to be impatient and we wear that moniker with pride. We do not like patient men. Women can be patient if they want to be; we have no opinion on that. To not be patient, and clip and use coupons, is akin to listening to someone running their fingernails down a black board. It just give’s you the willies, but a promise is a promise and unless I can find a loophole in what I promised. I gota do it.

Now I was taught, the night before you go shopping you sit down with flyers from all of the area grocery stores and look for bargains we can use. There are about five stores I am allowed to go to and one that I can never go to, because they once sold her an outdated can of black olives, which they would not take back and no one in this house eats them anyway, but it’s the principal of the thing I am told. Coupon 101 says you must match the appropriate store coupon with the manufactures coupon while carefully noting the expiration dates, size and amount requirements. Also make sure because you are going to multiple stores you have the right coupon for the right store. Avoid older lady checkout women because they’re mad at the world anyway and their feet hurt, so they will try to trip you up. Younger boys are the best checkouts because they don’t know what their doing most of the time, and they’re looking over your shoulder at the young ladies butt in the next check out lane and care less about what you gave them for coupons. I once bought six chocolate muffins with a coupon for charcoal briquettes.

When choosing products you must do the quality check. This involves looking at every pack of bacon in a bin, with four hundred packs of bacon in it, because truth be told, they always put the best ones on the bottom. Somewhere in the back room there is a butcher putting all of the good ones aside and reserving them for the bottom of the pile. It also means knocking with your knuckles on fifty-five watermelons because the ripe ones have the best acoustics. Always take your chosen product from the back of the shelf because what’s in the front row front has been there since they opened the store for the first time. Remember those black olives I talked about. Yep front row and my fault. Mea culpa.

Now last, but not least. DO NOT Leave the store until you have checked every item on that receipt for accuracy. They make mistakes and you have a short window of time to run to the courtesy counter and verbally assault the young girl stationed there while pointing out that you were born at night and it wasn’t last night and your five year old granddaughter has a better grip on math then they do. Happy shopping.  

Sunday, September 4, 2011

SHARING YOUR LIVES


                                                
 Sometimes, when we drove around the countryside together, she would reach across and lay her soft hand on top of mine and smile. I always drove with my hand on the shifting lever in the console between us, and it was her way to say—we don’t need to talk; we just need to stay in touch. It seemed to me that her simple touch was her way of sharing, even in silence, and her way of saying—we are in this life together and I, for one, am so happy

As I now regroup and try to find my way in life without her, it’s that act of not having someone to share things with that is becoming my biggest obstacle. Sharing goes far beyond the realm of splitting things up with someone. It’s not like “cutting the hamburger in half” we so often did. Especially when it’s grief, joy, love or pride that we are talking about. You can break bread with many people, share a ride or even a drink together, but it takes someone special to truly share your innermost feelings with. Someone special, who knows you better than you know yourself.

You don’t get this way just by tying the knot or moving in together. You get this way because, as time goes along, you grow together and form this bond. A bond not built on getting rich or famous together. A bond, instead, built on love and compassion for each other. Your two hearts beat as one and your feelings go way beyond human understanding. For a short while, after you are first committed to building a life together, it’s almost a feeling of pride. “Look at her,” you would say. “Isn’t she pretty, isn’t she nice, and you know what—she’s mine.” But as time goes on and your love grows, she becomes less of a possession and more of a life partner. You have babies together and share all of the joys, and sometimes the troubles, that come with that responsibility. You watch them grow and sometimes you see that, in so many ways, they are simply an extension of both of you. You build your dream home together and fill it full of memories and mementos.  You bury your parents, and the grief seems so bad and you try not to think about your turn, or hers, with the grim reaper. That’s all a long way off, isn’t it? Maybe I’ll go first, you think, and I won’t have to worry about it. But then, that seems selfish of you—heaping the grief on her—and for the first time, you realize there will be no sharing in this part of life.

I drove home alone from a book fair yesterday, and my first real venture out without her. It was a wonderful day in Northern Minnesota and I had, had a great day with my readers and friends. For one afternoon I had put all of my troubles and strife away, and it was almost like old times again.  I say “almost” because now—alone in the car going down that same road we had traveled so many times together—I looked down at my hand, alone on that shift selector, and gazed at the empty seat next to me. The words from a song by LeAnn Rimes came into my head, even though the radio was playing something else. “You’re my world, my heart, my soul. If you ever leave, baby you would take everything good in my life, and tell me now how do I live without you? I want to know........”