Archives

THEM versus US

When the recess bell rang on the first day of school, not one of the fifty children in my first grade classroom moved. We didn’t know what to do. Sister Donna said, “That bell is telling us that it is time for you to go outside to run and play in the fresh air. In the closet by the door, I have jump ropes and balls. When the bell rings again, you have to come back to the classroom and put the balls and jump ropes away.”

Some of my classmates knew each other, so they went out to the playground holding hands. On the playground I watched the other little girls jumping rope and talking. There was something different about some of them. I didn’t really understand what it was, though. Continue reading

Blessed

Damp, gray tree trunks stood out in stark contrast to the brown, winter-dead lawn. The bleakness of the cloudless spring day made me sigh wearily. Rolling to a stop at the end of the driveway, I looked both ways to check for cars before pulling out onto the road, thinking, “Early spring is depressing. Everything bad that has ever happened to me…has happened at this time of the year!”

Recurrent clinical depression had plagued my early years. Flare-ups happened more often in the spring. Doing a mental check-up, I questioned, “Is this just a down day, or the start of my going off track?” Shaking my head, I thought about Christy, my first baby who was born in early February and died two months later. My Mom and Dad both died in the springtime. Then nine years ago my husband Arnie died unexpectedly on the anniversary of Christy’s death. He was only 56 years old.

Last April my 42 year-old son-in-law died when a deer crashed through the windshield of his van as he was driving my daughter to the hospital to have their eighth child. Never expecting to share widowhood experiences with my daughter so early in her life, I’m still reeling from the randomness of this horrible loss. Niki and Mike’s children are all two years apart, newborn to age fifteen. At least when Arnie died, our children were grown and on their own.     Continue reading

The check is in the Mail

Putting down a steaming bowl of hamburgers swimming in a pool of brown mushroom gravy, I glanced up at the clock on the dining room wall. As I turned to get the boiled potatoes, I questioned in surprise, “Seven o’clock already? It’s still so light out!”

After dumping half the potatoes onto his plate a few moments later, my husband ladled meat and gravy over them answering me, “Daylight savings begins next week.”

“You’re so busy this time of the year,” I commented, thinking about how many long hours he was away from home to deliver his customers’ organic seeds and fertilizers.

Arnie forked food into his mouth and nodded. After swallowing he said, “It’s a good business, but right now, all the farmers have on their minds is getting into their fields the minute the soil is warm and dry enough. They want the product they’ve ordered to be there when they need it.”

I took the last of the cooked carrots from the serving bowl and savored their sweetness in silence. A cool breeze from the open kitchen window made me shiver. The sweet carol of a robin came in along with the breeze and filled me with pleasure. I said, “It was so warm this afternoon, I opened a few windows. Now that it’s getting chilly again, I’d better shut them.”

The phone rang while I was away from the table. I groaned because I hate to have meal-time interrupted by telemarketers. When I sat back down I could tell Arnie was talking to a customer. He said, “I want you to have a check ready for me when I deliver the product tomorrow.” After listening to the person on the other end of the line for a few minutes, he said, “Look, I’m not your banker. You’re not taking out a loan. I need to be paid.” Continue reading

First Silver

fork

Example of fork from wedding set.

The diamond ring sparkled as I pushed my left hand back and forth through the bath water to work up more bubbles. Leaning back in the old fashioned claw-footed bathtub, I held up my hand to better examine the ring. The bright silver etched band had scallops which corresponded to the wedding band Arnie would be putting on my finger in one month. Light from the window behind me made the amazing stone and the bubbles around it sparkle with flashes of silver, gold, green and blue.

I smiled, thinking about Arnie. He was handsome and fun to be around and I knew without a doubt that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Thoughts about our wedding preparations and the many things I had planned to do that day suddenly made me feel restless. Pulling the plug on the tub, I rinsed off bubbles, dried and dressed.

The bathroom window was open a crack and a warm March breeze whispered in, smelling fresh and with a hint of the red, bulging buds on the maple trees which towered over the house. Six months ago an elderly lady named Alma had rented me an upstairs bedroom and a bath in this house. I loved the place because it was just two blocks from the hospital where I worked. I didn’t own a car. Today I planned to walk twelve blocks to the stores downtown to buy a few things that I needed. Continue reading

Good Friday’s Fish

Pale light was filtering into my bedroom when I awoke. My first thought was to wonder whether my big brother, Casper, had returned home.” Sliding out of bed, I padded over to the bedroom window and pulled the curtain aside. His car was parked in its usual place in the farmyard driveway below my window. In bare tree branches near the house, several small birds twittered and trilled their spring-time joy.

Only a few small patches of dirty snow still dotted the yard. Yesterday I’d helped Daddy make shallow trenches in the driveway to help hasten drainage from the lawn around our house. Although it was still early morning, they were already filled with water. I smiled, Easter would be warm this year and I could wear my lavender coat and flowered hat to church.

No one was in the kitchen. I grabbed a slice of bread and buttered it. Hearing voices in the basement, I slowly crept down the steps, munching on the bread. Mom and Casper were working at the sink, gutting and washing small fish that were only three to four inches long. Next to them was a large milk-can nearly full with more fish. Continue reading

Hell’s Furnace

I shivered even though the room was warm. Thinking about the furnace had me anxiously rocking back and forth. My daughter Niki, sitting on the sofa next to me, put her hand comfortingly on my shoulder while her husband Mike nodded in compassion. Arnie and I had had an old fashioned marriage. I took care of cooking, cleaning and laundry. He took care of mowing the lawn, keeping the furnace running and fixing anything that broke down. Four days ago my husband of 37 years had unexpectedly died.

If I had died, a few weeks after the funeral when family and friends went back to their lives, Arnie would have merely starved to death in soiled clothing. This was a fate that I considered far less horrible than the one I was facing at the moment. With Arnie gone, I was sentenced to learning the care and maintenance of the wood-pellet-eating beast in the basement. Knowing that it was-right below where I was sitting-made me shiver again!

Most people have furnaces that are turned on and off with the twist of a thermostat dial and only need a heating specialist’s visit once a year to service the equipment. That would have been too simple and easy for my husband. He bought an unusual furnace that few others have in Central Wisconsin. He installed a furnace that required as much hands-on care as a newborn baby. The dirty thing needed to be burped, diapered and potty trained. All I knew about it at that moment was how to pour in the wood pellets. Continue reading

Over The Next Hill

Tammie looked over at me from behind the steering wheel. She asked, “So, Mom, when are you going to retire?”

Without thinking, I laughed and said, “Me? I’m not old enough to retire. That’s at least two or three years away yet.” In the silence that followed, I looked out the passenger window at the fields, ponds and houses we were passing on highway 41. As our car crested a small rise and a whole new vista opened to us, I acknowledged to myself that maybe it was time for me to start thinking about retirement. I’d be sixty five in less than a year and a half.

Throughout most of the thirty seven years that Arnie and I were married, my husband frequently said, “We’re going to work it out so that you can quit working at the hospital.” That never happened, probably because my job provided our family with health insurance. All was good, I liked what I did and I worked only four days a week.

When Arnie and I were fifty-six years old, Arnie died suddenly. After that I had no more thoughts about quitting work. Continue reading

It’s Tradition

The house door softly clicked shut behind me. I took a deep breath of the frosty night air. An inch of fresh snow lay on the deck. Shuffling my feet in the fluffy ice crystals, I looked around and saw by the yard light that more snow was falling steadily on our already white farm yard.

Smiling, I held out my arms and tipped my head back to allow the flakes tickle my face as they landed. I felt small in a big world. Inside the house behind me were my four and eight year-old children, in the barn before me was my husband waiting for my help. Continue reading

Inconvenienced

Arnie stepped into our mobile home amid a swirl of blustery November wind. My husband of seven months hugged and kissed me. His coat felt cold and smelled of the outdoors. His new mustache tickled my lip. He said, “I’m taking a shower before we sit down to eat.”

I nodded, stepped into the kitchen and began to set the table. From the window, I could see a few snow flurries falling to our still bare lawn and childishly wished for more to fall.

From the bathroom down the hall, I heard the water in the shower splashing. An intense feeling of cozy happiness washed over me. I was in a warm house. The man I loved was home and showering. I had food baking in the oven along with a surprise dessert. I was making my very first pumpkin pie.

Arnie’s shower must have moisturized the air in our house because the windows were slightly steamy by the time he returned to the kitchen. The pie was cooling on the counter. For some reason it didn’t look like Mom’s pumpkin pies. It was dark in color and the surface wasn’t smooth.

When it came time for me to cut the pie, I tasted it before giving any to my new husband. It tasted like mud! Dismayed and disappointed, I shoved it to the backside of the kitchen counter. What had I done wrong? Continue reading

Spiritual Shower

The night sky was bright with a large spring-planting-time moon. No lights were on in my house. As I drove into our small detached garage, I pictured Arnie, Niki and Tammie sound asleep in their beds. Earlier in the evening when Mom called to tell me that Daddy had died, I didn’t want to disturb my sleeping five and one year old so my husband stayed home with them.

At 31 years of age, my only experience with death had been the loss of a two month old baby twelve years earlier. That loss seemed like a long time ago and as though it had happened to someone else.

The May night was balmy without a hint of chill. As I stepped out of the garage an instinct prompted me to look up. Swooping down above my head was a huge horned owl. I watched as it glided silently up again though the night air to the roof top. Landing on the chimney, it hooted three times. I felt Daddy’s presence. Continue reading