Remembering That Special Day

Irene & I were married 30 years ago today in a little country church in rural Wisconsin.  It was a Norman Rockwell setting, an early 1900's brick church with white wooden doors and steeple that was set at the end of a tree lined gravel lane.

As a bit of irony, it was 4 years ago today that we found out Irene had a brain tumor and the beginning of a whole new journey.

Irene, you are in my heart.

A Blast From the Past

I did something last week that I had not envisioned ever doing again, I returned to Findlay, OH.

I received an email from an ex-fellow employee of Diamond Savings & Loan Company where Irene and I worked.  The company had been sold to Bank One on October 28, 1992, twenty years ago.  The email stated that a "family" reunion was being planned for September 8 and wondered if I was interested in attending.  As we were indeed a family, a most unusual bond of employees as I have ever seen, I could not resist.

Irene was featured in a slide show of other employees who had departed as well as old candid photos of company parties, etc.  It was obvious from the conversations I had with everyone that she is still sorely missed by many.

Thoughts

Today is one of those days when the sun, moon & stars came into alignment.  It was a serendipitous occasion.

Why? Today is Irene's birthday.  (Happy birthday Renee!).  It is also the day my general contractor broke ground on my new house.  I believe the coincidence of these two events on the same day bodes well for building a new home! 

Reflections on Change

I decided to list our house for sale less than three months after Irene died.  Several friends suggested that I should not consider such a major change so soon after her death.  Rather, they  suggested that I follow the old one year rule - no major decisions for one year.


I took their suggestions to heart but decided to go forward with the listing.  My reasons were twofold.  First, I knew it would take at least a year to find a buyer.  And if I felt that this was a bad move, I could always cancel the listing and take the house off the market.


The months wore on as I went through the marketing process, open houses, viewings, feedback from people that felt it was not "their" house, and suggestions by my Realtor for price reductions, which I made.  As time passed, I realized how much the house had become a boat anchor in my life.  Irene was the "dirt babe", and I was not the dirt guy.  I was doing the bare essentials to keep things manageable and under control so the property showed well.  As time passed, I was more and more comfortable with the idea of moving out and moving on.


Now, the house is under contract and final conditions required for the buyer have been met.  Documents should be drawn Friday, and I should have cash in the bank by next week.


As I come to the end of my responsibilities to the house my heart is becoming lighter, and I am looking forward to breaking ground on my new home.  It will be exciting to watch it go up.  I am confident in my decisions.  The house was a wonderful home for Irene and me, but it is time to pass it along to a new, younger family that can make their own memories there.  I have mine.

Haiku #38

I look back at what

was and think of the "could haves"

as I move forward.

Haiku #37

I may not post much,

but you are always with me

and we talk daily.

Haiku #36

The first warm Spring day.

Doors opened, airing the house.

Irene loved the smell!

Haiku #35

Crocus are blooming.

Daffodils are in full bud.

Irene's favorite time.

Haiku #34

Wild flowers blooming.

Cadbury eggs are on sale.

Spring two is now near.

A Surprise

Several people sent Irene plants and flowers when she was home on hospice.  There was one mum and several bulbs, tulips and daffodils.  I planted the mum and bulbs in the two terraces Irene built beneath the fig tree after she died.  It was the Irene Memorial Flower Bed.

Nothing happened the spring of 2011, and I figured I had planted them too late and everything had died.

I can see the fig tree from the kitchen sink window, and one day last week I noticed green where there was none before.  I went out and took a look, and to my surprise the bulbs had poked new leaves up through the ground!  I will have to watch to see if the mum made it too!

Haiku #33

Sunday we sang, "He

will raise you up on eagle's

wings", and I saw you.

The Last First

Today is the last first - the first anniversary of Irene’s death and the beginning of year two.  Looking back, it is hard to realize that a year has passed.  It seemed appropriate to mark the end of the first year by interring Irene’s ashes today.

We had discussed our desires years ago and both decided that we wanted to be cremated.  I attended the funeral of a friend who was buried at the National Cemetery outside of Eagle Point, OR some years ago.  It is in a rural setting on a hill overlooking a beautiful valley.  Since I am a Vietnam veteran with an honorable discharge, Irene & I can both be interred there.

In 2010, I learned that the cemetery was building a columbarium.  Irene & I decided we would like to be interred in a niche there.  The columbarium was recently completed, and I was notified just before Christmas that I could inter Irene.

It was a perfect “Reene Day”.  We had rain in the morning with afternoon clearing, blue skies and puffy white clouds and a daily high of around 50F.  It was an afternoon that would have found Irene in her garden wearing her grubby garden blue jeans and flannel shirt, both with holes, covered in mud with a big smile on her face.

Given the valiant fight Irene waged with cancer and the life example she set for many, it is only fitting that she rest in a field of heroes as she is a heroine to many.