Rebuilding and Remembering

A good friend has sent me the four book series from the Stephen Ministry entitled Journeying Through Grief over this past year. I received the last book a few days before flying to Scottsdale for Christmas. The title of the book is the title of this post. The books are quick reads, but I did not have time to read it and prepare for the trip; so, I took it with me and read it while waiting for my plane


Book four talks about something that anyone who has lost someone that made them whole and now feels that a part is missing instinctively knows but does not realize - you have lost the physical person, but the relationship continues, just in a different form. Irene and I will always be together. Little pieces of her are scattered all over the world, and I encounter them at unexpected times and in unexpected places. I walked into the guest bathroom in Scottsdale, and the Southwest style cow skull stained glass night light that Irene made as a gift was there. I had forgotten about it.


So, as this Christmas approaches, we will celebrate it together - just in a different way. A part of a poem by Henry Scott Holland entitled "What is Death?" was quoted in the last of the Stephen Ministry books, and I will end this rambling with that quote.


"I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are."


Merry Christmas Irene.

Haiku #32

They say firsts are hard.

Thanksgiving I remember

and put hard aside.

Haiku #31

Irene Ware - Your name

listed with the others lost

this All Saints Sunday.

Haiku #30

Christmas cacti are

starting to bloom.  Teaching us

that life still renews.

Haiku #29

Today would have been

twenty-nine years married.  Now,

just memories left.

Haiku # 28

The last tomato

eaten today - Fall has arrived.

I miss tomatoes.

Haiku #27

An orchid has bloomed.

The first one since Irene died.

Pretty memory!

Haiku #26

The first BLT

of the season.  How Irene

loved them so!  Remembering

Haiku #25

A new milestone past,

your birthday and you are gone.

Many emotions!

Haiku #24

Six months, half a year -

it's a landmark I am told.

But my heart still aches.

Haiku #23

The first tomato

ripened, and I ate wishing

I could have shared it.

Haiku #22

Delicate Flower,

Irene would describe herself.

I miss your blossom.

Haiku #21

Your new life began

five months ago today and

I try to find mine.

Relay for Life

The annual Josephine County Relay for Life began today, and the lighting of the luminaries and reading of names was tonight. I attended as there were four luminaries remembering Renee.

The Relay is held on the track at the North Valley High School. Decorated white bags remembering those who died or honoring survivors lined the outside of the track completely around its circumference. Those bags represent just a fraction of those families impacted by cancer in just one county in America. Multiply that by thousands of counties in America and hundreds or thousands of countries around the world. The impact of this disease is incalculable.

The haiku that follows does not even come close to capturing the emotions I experienced tonight. The only life experience that I have had which comes close to tonight was the time I visited the traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall when it came to Grants Pass and I found the names of those airmen who served with me that were killed. Tonight and those temporary little white tombstones will be with me for a long, long time.

Haiku #20

Candles pierce the night.

Luminaries honoring

those brave souls who died.

Haiku #19

Red cone flowers in bloom,

vibrant colors of summer.

Irene loved them most.

Haiku #18

Memorial Day -

A day of remembrance,

and I remember.

Haiku # 17

Last day on the coast -

Irene always felt home here.

Feeling close to her.

Haiku #16

Kites sail in the sky

above the beach. Your spirit

sails in the heavens.

Haiku #15

Nighttime hides the waves

but the surf's pounding is heard

over the darkness.

Haiku #14

Pacific City

Springtime at the ocean - me

and our memories.

Haiku #13

Time has passed and grief

is diminished somewhat but

emptiness remains.

Haiku #12

Shells, bells, glass floats, plants -

I look around the house and

see pieces of you.

Haiku #11

Warm Spring days you would

be covered in wet red dirt.

I dig and become.

It's Kind of Like.........

Our church started a new class entitled "Your Whole Life". It is about living well. I joined it in hopes of loosing some weight. (So far I'm down 10 pounds.) Part of the program is exercise, and I've been walking. I have 3 routes from 1.5 to 4.5 miles depending on the weather & my mood.

I have found that my mind tends to wander during these walks. I'll talk with God at times, then Irene, then blank. Today I reflected on the fact that my mind would wander from God to Irene to nothing or other things. I came to the conclusion that I was in a place that was kind of like the Catholic belief in Purgatory.

By Purgatory, I mean that I am in between. Emotionally, there are days that I do not grieve. Then, there are days that bring back memories, and I weep. And, I am geographically in between places. I am trying to sell the house and relocate to simplify my life. Also, there are other issues that I will not discuss here that are unresolved. So, in many ways I am in between places which is Purgatory - not in Heaven or Hell.

Yet, I know that somehow all these things will be resolved in time and that my walks will help to bring about those resolutions. As Irene said a thousand times or more, "It's in God's hands."

Haiku #10

Your clothes are gone now,

gifts to family and the poor.

Your spirit clothes me.

Haiku #9

Easter brings faith in

Christ's resurrection and of

seeing you again.

Haiku #8

Good Friday - Christ died

and you died three months ago.

Good Friday - I cried.

Haiku #7

Church - Maundy Thursday,

Prayers for healing. God please heal

the hole in my heart.

Haiku #6

Green Asparagus;

your favorite Spring flavor.

I taste loneliness.

Trees

Trees have always carried significance for Irene and I. Our wedding vows (page 1 of this blog) refer to trees, Irene's favorite poster in her office was about trees and children.

The backyard of our house in Ohio was shaded by an elm that was over 150 years old. We babied that tree, but in the end Dutch elm got it, and we had to have it cut down. When the tree died, Irene said it was alright to sell the house and move. Thus, we came to Oregon (but Irene brought two slices of the tree's trunk with us).

Irene was my tree and I hers. Now that she is gone, I have decided that on many levels and for many reasons it is time to sell our home. That said, our roots remain intertwined as I wrote in a previous post thus Irene will be with me when I move.

Good memories last forever.

Haiku 5

Days passed without tears.

A random act of kindness

brought them back again.

Warm Day

It has not rained in a few days; so, the ground has dried out. The temperature is in the 60's; so, it is time to begin the garden work. I can't say "yard work" since we have no grass!

My first task was to rake the orchard. That was a several hour chore. And the dead plants in the hanging baskets around the house weren't that esthetically pleasing; so, I cleaned them out and rehung them. The dirt went into the compost bin and the woody plant material into the woods.

There is much more to do, but that's enough for today.

I think I'll sit in the orchard, have a beer and enjoy my handiwork.

Haiku #4

Frog croaks in the pond,

a sure sign that Spring arrived.

Water warms; fish swim.

Haiku #3

Day 1 of month 3

and I continue to count

the ways I miss you.

Haiku #2

Spring, dogwood budding

red maple tree starts to leaf

resurrection time.

Haiku #1

Beaded butterfly

half finished in gold and blue

beautifully complete

The Theorem

I have thought about my relationship with Irene a lot since she died.

We met "accidentally" and quickly formed a bond even though at the time she thought the only good man was a dead man. Over twenty-eight plus years that bond was tighter than concrete.

After Irene died I continued to reflect on our relationship, and I came to one conclusion. I decided that God brought us together because He knew that Irene would need me to guide her through this final illness. I firmly believe that one of God's greatest purposes for me was to take care of this precious soul.

And if I believe that, I can only conclude that God exists. Thus, Irene has brought me closer to God even in death.

Reflections on a Bird Feeder

The bird feeders were low this morning and I filled them.

I remember how you loved the birds!

Irene's Service

Irene's celebration of life was a memorable experience thanks to my sister-in-law, Rev. Marilyn Ware, who delivered Irene's message and Scott Stark who produced the video that was played for the prelude to the service. Also, thanks to friends & family that attended.

The Bet

You bet no one would come

to your celebration of life.

I bet the church would be full.

You lost but,

I could not collect

as you are not here.

Reflections

Reflections on a Month

It has been a month since you left

(a more polite way of saying "died").

Four weeks - Thirty One days.

I can now speak of certain things

without a tear,

but of others - not yet.

I miss the physical you

but still have your love,

and you mine.

An Old Poem

Irene had agreed to marry me, but she was still living in Minneapolis and I was in Findlay, OH. The inspiration for this poem was the miles that separated us and the anticipation of seeing Irene again. That anticipation remains but in a different form as we are now separated by another dimension.

ICE CREAM

Memories of you are like free

trips to the ice cream parlor.

Bites of strawberry to hold

in my mouth and let melt;

cooling my mind on a hot day.

But the anticipation of seeing

You-----------------------------

That's a whole banana split!

7/6/82 SFW

Rain

It has rained off and on all day today and is raining hard tonight.

The world cries because you are not in it.

The world & I cry together.

A Poem

The Day You Left

I watched your labored breathing -

eyes closed, immobile;

the pain too great to move.

I knew I was ready

and said it was OK to go.

I knew I was ready

and asked God to take you home.

I saw your calm resignation

as the time grew near.

I knew I was ready and held your head.

I knew I was ready

when you breathed your last.

But now that you/ve left -

I was not ready.

The Sermon

One part of today's sermon was so Irene that it was amazing. The question was, "What were you blessed for?" The answer is "so that you can be a blessing to others."

I cannot think of anyone who is more of a blessing to others than Irene. She taught us much both in life and in death as we continually see all the little ways that she influenced our lives and will continue to influence us as she lives on within each of us.

Irene truly blessed everyone who knew her.

A Bit of Irene

Irene's sister Jane sent me the link below this morning. It so reminded me of Irene. Find a quiet spot and enjoy a few moments of reflection. It will evoke pleasant memories.

Click here.

Thanks Jane!

First Week

Renee,

First, I hope you're learning your way around heaven. I know it is a finer place now that you are there.

I made it through the first week.. I even went to church Sunday & did not turn into a blubbering idiot. I thought that was a major accomplishment!

People ask me how I am. I tell them that you always answered that question, "I'm grand!" and that I am somewhere between good and OK. Someday I'll be grand also.

All my love,

Steve

One Placemat

I cooked one of your favorite dinners tonight, but only half as much as when you were here. You know what it was because you watched me cook it. There was only one placemat in the drawer when I set the table. I miss your placemat.

Insights in a Purse

I cleaned out Renee's purse today. I discovered women tuck bits and pieces of their lives in there that reveal their souls. Two scraps of paper were carefully folded and neatly stored there revealing what I already knew about her. First and foremost, she loved lists. Most lists were kept in a basket, but this was a more private one - one she made realizing that her time was short. She wrote:

1. Well (I'm assuming that meant get well.)

2. friends/family

3. put life/projects in order/finish - sort out. (I think this one is the reason she hung in there and refused to go until she had no strength left.)

4. Painting/hobbies/stained glass.

5 Live a balanced life. (Her neurosurgeon asked her at one appointment if she was living a balanced life and that really struck her. She believed she was.)

6. Do something good/kind everyday.

The second piece was a quote by Charles Swindoll on attitude. It reads:

"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.

Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill. It will make or break a company ... a church ... a home.

The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past. We cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable.

The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude ... I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me, and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you ... we are in charge of our Attitudes."

Toothbrushes

There were two toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet last night but only one of us here to use them. I threw yours away, and mine was lonely. I threw it away so they would be together. My new toothbrush did not know yours and is not lonely. I hope God gave you a new one too.

Day One

Irene died yesterday. It was a peaceful passing in the end. She accepted the finality of her life and went quietly into that good night. I wondered how I would sleep the first night, but I did. For some reason I woke early (5:30), and started my day.

That first morning, the living room seemed large and expansive without the hospital bed and Irene in it. There was an obvious void that I knew would be there for a long time. After all, she had rested there for almost a month.

But, I know she is watching and caring for me and that some day we will reunite.

Her Influence

Irene influenced many lives. She had the uncanny ability to see the soul of an individual and understand that person's capability. She elevated many people through their careers and their beliefs in themselves.

(OK folks, your comments concerning how Irene impacted your life would be appreciated here.)

Our Wedding

We were married at the Sabylund Lutheran Church in Stockholm (some might say Lund) Wisconsin. It is a picturesque church built (I'm guessing) in the early to mid 1900's. It is a brick structure with a tall steeple situated at the end of a tree lined lane, a fairy book picture which I will always remember.

I wrote our wedding vows. Sorry, but the English major in me came out.

Our Statement

I stand before God, my loved ones,

and friends clothes in the purity

of your lvoe.

This ring exchanged, signifying

my bond with you throughout

eternity.

Yet, I am and you are. We will

grow separately; though stand

together. Visibly spaced as two

trees in the forest, but our roots

entwine;

creating a firm foundation to face

the storm.

Two halves have no choice but to

join, and yes, they do make a whole.

But when two wholes collide;

that is beauty.

That is love.

And so our two trees stood apart. We each had our own lives. Yet our roots were intertwined. And even though Irene's tree has been cut down our roots remain intertwined and her life continues to influence mine.

The Beginning

We met in Louisville, KY at a mortgage banking seminar in June of 1982. She lived in Minneapolis and I was in Findlay, OH. As chance would have it, I was scheduled to attend a convention in Minneapolis later in June, and I wangled her contact information from her. While in Minneapolis, I wined & dined her, and she invited me to her parents home in Lake Pepin, WI for the Fourth of July. I accepted. Long story short, we were married October 9, 1982. (Ironically, twenty-six years later to the day she was diagnosed with cancer.)

Remembering Irene (8/13/1955 - 01/26/2011

The purpose of this blog is to remember Irene Mary-Pia Schollmeier Ware for the wonderful lady she is (as her spirit watches over us). It will ramble. It will not detail the 28 year plus some months love story we had together. (My cousin Margaret thinks I should write a modern day "Love Story" novel, but it is not going to happen. This is as good as it gets cousin!) It will discuss my feeling of loss. And will explore the impact she had on many lives. Holy buckets, have a grand day sweet lady!