Bittersweet treasures

My beloved husband George lost his bladder cancer battle in the early morning hours of August 19. He was right here at home, in a hospital bed in our living room, overlooking the lake that he loved. He was ready for his journey. We had called Hospice who guided us through those last days; he received the sacrament and last rites of his Catholic faith; kids and grandkids were here in person or via FaceTime; he hugged every one of them, his dear treasures.

One last cribbage game with his favorite partner, Steve; several hand squeezes for me and then he grew tired and silent. My youngest sister was here with me and one of us held his hand through the night. My hand was firmly in his as he left for his new home with Jesus, our Lord and Savior who we worshipped together.

It was both bittersweet and a treasure. Calm, peaceful, beautiful. At 93, he earned his heavenly reward; he served the world well; he caught all the fish he needed; his WordFind books were full, his work was done. 

Relaxing with his WordFind
book of puzzles in Arizona  

We had a lovely funeral service for him at our church. It was perfect in every way, complete with an honor guard, a gun salute and a flag presentation to honor George, an Air Force veteran. A luncheon was enjoyed afterwards, a time to visit and relive memories.

And now here am I, alone and missing him more than words can say. But I have treasures now, too. Friends and family who never left me, neighbors whose offers of help mean so much, expressions of sympathy, memorial gifts, cards and phone calls, all reminding me I'm not alone. I have beautiful memories to savor. I’m very fortunate and very blessed.

I treasure above all the greatest gift my husband gave me: absolute and endless unconditional love. I will return his love beyond measure in my heart to the end of time. 

Rest well, my sweetheart.

Heaven and Earth

When I was in high school music class, we learned about singing in rounds. You know, like Row, row, row your boat and Make new friends but keep the old. 

We were introduced to a variety of multicultural rounds, one being a Jewish round, typically sung by children: David melech Yisrael, chai chai vekayam. It is a simple song consisting of only five words. 

The Hebrew translation to English remains simple as well:

            David David (is) king of Israel,
            David David (is) king of Israel
            David (is) king of Israel living and existing.
            Alive, living and existing
            David (is) king of Israel
            Alive, living and existing - king of Israel. 

Another was a German folk song sung in a two-part round. Himmel und erde. Roughly translated, it means something like: Heaven and earth shall pass away, but the music will never die. 

            All things shall perish from under the sky
            Music alone shall live, music alone shall live
            Music alone shall live, never to die.

These little songs stayed in my head until they were drowned out by Wake Up, Little Susie and Love Me Tender. I am very fickle when it comes to music. Basically I love all genres. (That excludes rap which is noise, not music.)

Summertime came and with it, our annual family vacation which consisted of an 8-hour car trip to visit Grandpa and Grandma on their farm in South Dakota.  For Dad it meant solo driving, for Mom it meant previous days of packing for eight. For six squirmy children - not me, of course - it meant a very long car ride crowded in the back of our Rambler station wagon. When boredom set in and the bickering started among my little sisters - all four of them - I decided to teach them these two little songs so we could sing them together in rounds.  

To my surprise, they were not only cooperative but enjoyed the singing and learned the songs quickly. The time in the Rambler passed in a much more pleasant manner.

Fast forward to 1994 as we planned our parents' 50th wedding anniversary dinner. We decided as part of the program, we'd bring back the memory of those long summer trips by singing the two little rounds. We laughed at the recollection of it, Mom and Dad loved it, and we've talked about it since. 

I don't think we will ever get those little folk songs out of our heads. Their memories serve us well.

Opening the flood gate

I have started tackling one of the many things on my retirement To Do List. This resembles a bucket list, only a very practical one. Achievable, too, if you actually do it.

It is my photo project. It is daunting, to say the least.

It started with taking a box of loose photos belonging to my Mom, who passed 18 months ago. It's the last remaining task to wind up her affairs, which puts it all-too-neatly into a compartment, which seems sad and unfair for a person's life.

Going through her photos, dividing them among family members, was a sharp and sad reminder that she is gone. Many long, deep sighs went into sorting through the pictures, a flood gate of memories opening up, reliving so many good times -  of Mom, and all of us as a family. Missing her all over again; riding another wave of grief.


I was once given a card with this saying on it. So true, isn't it?

Well, I finished. Everything is in envelopes ready to give to my sisters, my brother, and even some cousins. The big box is empty.

Of course, this only served to remind me that my own photos needed attention.

Ordinarily a fairly well-organized person, subscribing to the notion, "A place for everything and everything in its place," somehow I fail miserably when it comes to photos.

In this case, it has meant jamming photos and keepsakes into a bedroom blanket chest that has never stored a blanket. The day of reckoning came when my own collection of my Mom's recently-sorted  photos would no longer fit into the chest. That, or I could no longer close the chest.

So...I got a banker's box, took a bunch of old file folders and labeled them in five-year time spans. Then I unloaded the full contents of the chest and started sorting.

Because I am doing this in my media center (also known as the bedroom), I needed to stick with the task or not be able to go to bed to sleep at night. I shifted piles to the floor for a few nights, then worked more speedily as I have an aversion to messes. Well, messes that I have to constantly look at.

Okay, the photos are now in their five-year-time-span folders. And now I don't know what to do with them.  Photo albums? Scan them all (we're talking thousands)? Sort by time period? Event? Make scrapbooks? What to do?

Until I figure out how to keep them all (or even whether I keep them all), all those beautiful photos and related memorabilia are in a banker's box, in five-year-time-span folders, awaiting further action. On top of the blanket chest.

But until I decide, I will savor all the memories my photos hold.

In nothing else am I rich. In nothing else am I poor.

Nothing better

As I write this, I am watching the most beautiful Arizona sunset outside our living room window with palm trees in the foreground. We hear the news reports of frigid, sub-zero temps back home and are grateful to be in the warmth and beauty of the Southwest where we can be active and enjoy our retirement life. There is nothing better.

 Cactus in bloom (2012)

But I am lonesome for my children and family back home in Minnesota. While we enjoy being here in the sun, we often wish we could jump in the car and just drive across town to see them. There would be nothing better.

We had a voice memo from our five year old granddaughter this morning. I didn't even know there was such a thing as a voice memo, but there it was, appearing on the phone. So I pressed on the message bar, and voile---on came her sweet little voice.

"Hi, Grandma and Grandpa. I'm selling Girl Scout cookies. How many would you like?"

Now, wait a minute. How did she know we'd be such an easy mark and buy some in the first place? Well, of course, we would. This is her first year in Daisies, the beginner group of Girl Scouts.

We called her back and placed our order. Forty dollars worth. Never mind that we're easy targets, this little girl is a super-sales professional. When we were done ordering, or so we thought, she asked if we would consider buying some cookies to send to soldiers overseas.

Think about it for a moment.

Who, I ask you....WHO would say no to that? Certainly not us.  Turns out for every box of cookies sold to U.S. troops serving our country overseas, the Girl Scout association will arrange for shipping them. It warmed my heart to order two boxes, honoring our brave troops in the tiniest way. Nothing better than that patriotic feeling.

Then I find out our order of two boxes for the soldiers put our granddaughter at the level of sales needed for this mission to earn a badge. So it was a win-win: we felt good and she was excited and proud to have accomplished the requirement needed for her badge. Boy, there's nothing better.

How often have you experienced a "nothing better" moment?

A "nothing better" moment for Granddaughter Jessica.

My "nothing better" moment comes each time I am together with my children and their wonderful spouses, my granddaughters three and great-granddaughter one. I want the time to stand still as I take in the pure joy of being with them. The time will pass too quickly and the occasion will always come to an ultimate end, as I suppose it must.

But my heart will be overflowing. Love, pride, gratitude and joy will fill it to the brim.

Above everything else, there is nothing better.