Remembrance of Ruth

It has been said that as we age we celebrate more goodbyes than hellos. That has a ring of truth. During the past years I have lost my parents, a bother, a sister and some friends. I welcome new friends to be sure, but the loss of the longest friendships seem to be the most difficult to experience.

This week I said farewell to Ruth, a friend who has been an important part of my life since 1993. We met when we worked together at an elementary school in the Hopkins School District. I was the school conselor with a strong belief in the power of goups. As the school psychologist she joined me in leading those groups. We parted professional company within another year but our friendship continued and grew.

We lived in the same suburb of Minneapolis and had frequent visits, sharing laughter, tears and joys. We walked together through my adoption, the deaths of my mother and sister, adding my father to our household, my marriage in Malta and the death of my father. I was there when her brother moved in with her after he retired and her grief at his early passing. My husband and I had encouraged her to add a bathroom downstairs while she was remodeling her home to add an additon for her brother who joined her and her mother in sharing a home. She continued to thank us over the years for that advice. Both her mother and brother made use of that bathroom as they grew sick and were unable to use the stairs.

My husband and I included Ruth for our weekly Sunday brunches. Ruth and I met with a monthly support group of strong women who had worked with us over the years as a school principal, a social worker, counselors and a psychologist. That goup of extraordinay women is meeting to this day and celebrated Ruth's birthday a few months before she died. Today these women are saying their farewells at her funeral.

As for me, my husband and I moved away in 1998 but through the years we kept contact through cards and phone calls and our yearly visit to Minneapolis where we visited over a lengthy lunch.

I will not attend her funeral today but I remember a good friend and grieve her passing. She will not be forgotten. Her absence has left a void in my heart.

 Ruth and I both missed those weekly brunches after my husband and I moved to the Black Hills. Our friendship continued through phone and letter. True friends are rare and I will treasure the memories..

Goodbye and thank you for the good times we shared.

P.S.

NANCY IN HER GARDEN (PHOTO COMPLIMENTS OF ANOTHER NEIGHBOR AND FAITHFUL READER:)

THANK YOU, GINGER!

Bitter-Sweet

My kitchen window faces the neighbor's back yard. From early in the spring to late in the fall I enjoy a view of a perfectly kept yard. The flowers always give me enjoyment, from the reds and lavenders of the daffodils and tulips to the hydrangeas, sunflowers many others which I cannot identify. Each day I drink in the vibrant colors with pleasure.

For the past eight years I have seen the 90 some neighbor lady out in her yard, tending to her flower gardens. She has a small rolling cart that she uses when she spends the day weeding and trimming.

Each time she is out in her yard I marvel at how such an elderly lady can do this tiresome work. When she sits and takes a rest Bob or I visit with her while she shares her love of gardening. Lately she has been increasingly complaining about the stress of her efforts. It cannot be easy for a women in her nineties to continue this strenuous activity.

Today as I tend to the kitchen chores I look out that same window where for many years I have taken pleasure in the plethora of colors that I drink in for a lengthy season of delight due to the constant efforts of our neighbor. The sunflowers are in full bloom, attracting the birds, bees and butterflies.

At the same time I savor the sight, I feel a tinge of sadness. This weekend she has been moved to our assisted living facility in town. I will miss seeing her, not only bending over her gardens, but the sight of her walking her dog, resting for a brief time in her lawn chair or going out, immaculately dressed, to attend church or some other function.

She has been an inspiration to me and I will treasure the memories and, as long as they last for this season, the careful array of hues growing proudly in her back yard.

Thank you, Nancy, for the beauty you left behind as you follow a new path.

Two Sisters

She was an only child, bringing a lifetime of joy to her doting parents. They spoiled her, but she was not spoiled. She was generous, thoughtful, caring and loving. When she married, spending her life teaching and being a master teacher because of her excellence, her parents moved from their long time home to be close to the daughter who they adored. Throughout their lifetimes she shared her life with them and at the end of her mother's life she shared her lengthy decent into Alzheimers. She was always there for her parents. As their only child they were most fortunate to have had her in their lives.

She had two daughters that she doted on, encouraging them to follow their talents and their dreams. One became an excellent teacher, working with those children with special needs. The oldest one became at the top of her field in various industries, moving around the world to advance to the top, sought after by many companies.

Her youngest daughter lived near her mother, finally recognizing that her mother needed long term care. It was a painful decision but she moved her mother from assisted living, to a memory care unit until recently when her mother is receiving hospice care.

Both daughters were at her side when she went to the hospital, the eldest traveling from the east coast to share time with her mother.

Yesterday I received a call from one of the daughters. "My mother is in Hospice and they predict that she has six months to live. Can we call you tomorrow and you can talk to her? She may not remember much from the present, but she does remember you through the cards you send each month."

This morning I talked with my friend, the one who has been my friend the longest. After our brief conversation, her familiar cheerful voice brought back a flood of memories.I remembered when we became fast friends in junior high. She was younger than I was but we clicked in every way. We shared our hopes and struggles, double dated and had secret gatherings with friends at her house when her parent were both away.

After high school we both went on to college and careers and husbands, moving miles apart, but always keeping contact through phone, letters and visits. We continued to share about our spouses, children, careers and struggles, loves, hopes and joys.

She had her share of difficulties during her life. She lost her parents and then her husband at an early age. She suffered a life altering car accident, having been left with burns that required plastic surgery. She had the usual pain and pride of a any parent watching her two daughters grow, make mistakes and changes in their lives. She touched the lives of many young children through her thoughtful, patient teaching.

Now as the end draws near she has two daughters who look after her and care for her. I said to the youngest today, "Your mother is lucky to have you."

She responded quickly, "We are lucky to have her."

I guess it does work both ways. She, as an only daughter, shared her care and love with her parents. Today her daughters do the same for her. Her life has come full circle, but I still cry for my oldest friend. When she leaves our shared memories will be gone. In her case they have been fading for the past year. That will leave me alone to remember.

The Blue Blanket

In times of disasters people come to the aid of those affected. If you have experienced first-hand a tornado, a flood, an earthquake or fire, you will have been surrounded by assistance, be it financial, caring words of comfort and support, the use of another's home or vehicle, nourishment or supplies.

Thoughtfulness comes flooding in and helps ease the shock of the sudden change to one's life. The stresses of the event are somewhat softened by the generosity of others. Then there is time, the healer that takes its time.

Nine years after the uprooting wildfire that changed our lives forever, few scars remain. Life goes on and the wounds smoothed over with ever-changing events and just living life. The help, cards, notes, gifts and financial assistance received have dimmed, along with the pain, as the passage of time has continued to fill in the scars.

But today, and each day as I make our bed, I fold the blue blanket over the sheets and remember my friend, Dorothy, who sent that cozy blanket through the mail to our temporary residence. I have used it daily since that horrific fire. It has been a comfort through the seasons and the permanent move to our new home. Each morning as I make the bed I remember Dorothy and her mindful gift since it is still being used after all of these years, be it as a cover for warmth, or easily folded down during the heat of summer.

Dorothy writes several times a year, now through the ease of emails. I follow the adventures of her encounters with our former co-workers and their on-going lives, her volunteer work in the Twin Cities, her difficult move with her husband from their home of many years to an apartment, her children and grandchildren and the more recent death of her husband.

Contact has been lost with many of my former colleagues, but I remain kept in the loop through Dorothy and her regular newsy emails in addition to her annual Christmas letters. I am grateful for her continual connections and as I make the bed each morning I feel the softness of her thoughtful gift of the blue blanket.

A Lingering Goodbye

Early January and a Christmas card was returned. That began my journey into tracking down a long-time hometown friend. We had been through over 60 years of sharing laughter, tears, hopes, dreams, illnesses and deaths of loved ones. How could she disappear from the face of my earth?

I made the usual phone calls to her new apartment. No answer. After a few times I let the phone ring and ring. What was wrong? Where was she? I didn't know the last names of her two daughters so that was a dead end. The Internet offered no hope. Where was my oldest friend?  At long last a classmate emailed me with her whereabouts.

My heart dropped a beat. Her new home was an assisted living facility in her home town. I was informed that she had a fall and now was suffering from dementia and may not know who I was. How could that be? We had a long conversation....when was it? Could it have been a year ago?

She did not use the Internet so over the years we had made our visits in person, but after my move to South Dakota we mainly used the telephone to keep in touch. We shared so much. We were like sisters.

We met when I was a freshman and she was in Junior High School. Age difference did not matter. We were kindred spirits. She was sweet, kind and an only child who was adored by her parents. She was a majorette for the popular Drum and Bugle Corp, travelling to state and national competitions. She dated my cousin who was visiting for the summer. He fell head-over-heals for her, but it was not to be. She went on to college and became a much-loved kindergarten teacher, married and raised two beautiful, talented daughters. She had her own television show, using her teaching skills to educate generations of pre-school age children. After retirement she continued teaching by volunteering for an ESL program, assisting immigrants in perfecting their English skills.

Whatever she did, she did to the best of her ability. She was a caring, devoted daughter, mother, wife and teacher. She told me once, "I am not the smartest of people. I know that, but I work hard and make the best of situations." She knew herself, with her weaknesses, but accepted herself as well as others who came into her life.

She was in a terrible car accident, recovering after many plastic surgeries. She looked after her mother when she entered a nursing home and spent many hours with her father, including him in her life even after his many failures had caused her ridicule and rejection while she was in high school.

One of her dreams she shared with me was to write a book for teachers, using many materials she had developed over the years for her television show. That dream was put aside as she focused on her daughters, grandchildren, parents and the early death of her husband to cancer. As far as I know she never had time to pursue that dream. Today I wonder what happened to all of those materials?

Her home was sold and today she is in the assisted living facility. I called and was told they would connect me to her room. We talked at length. She sounded her usual cheerful self. It was great to hear her voice, but there was a difference. After talking for a while she said, "I hate to say this, but who are you again?" I don't know if she remembers me even after we talked about her family, our hometown (not the same), and how she liked her new home. Of course, she said she loved it there. No surprise. She always has accepted her life situations, even when difficult. She has not lost her generous spirit. But as of now, the February of 2016, she has lost memories of me and our friendship.

I sent chocolates for Valentine's day and I will call again, and again. She asked me to. My call seemed to cheer her up and maybe, just maybe, the next time I call she will remember me. Perhaps the next time we talk I will not have a sleepless night, crying for a loss - a loss of a closeness we shared for so very many years, since first we met and became instant friends in the summer of 1946. It was that long ago, but it seems like yesterday.

Over the years friends have come and gone from my life. A few steadfastly remained. She was one. And now she is leaving me, slowly, but surely. My heart is aching. Goodbyes are never easy, no matter how or when, swiftly or slowly, expected or sudden. How can anyone replace someone who accepted you, warts and all, with unconditional love?

Of course I know that answer, but slowly, over time I will have to learn to let go and be grateful that even if I am lost to her, I will keep the precious memories of a special, loving friend.

Ding, Dong, It's not Avon

"Anybody home?" Our family came in the back door, filled with hugs, smiles and bearing gifts from Michigan. What joy; it has been too long. Our sixteen year old grandson has sprouted taller than the weeds and flowers in the garden. He is now taller than both of his parents. Our granddaughter is shooting up....too fast, too soon. What happened when we weren't looking? Childhood is over in the blink of an eye. Both of the grandchildren are too big for stories sitting on Grandma's lap. But there is pride in seeing how much each has grown and blossomed and wonderment in what the future holds for them both.

The telephone rings. It is a long-time friend calling from the Cities, checking in before his long trip to visit us and the beautiful Black Hills. We have much catching up to do. The time will be too short with too much to share. He will be arriving the day after our children leave for home.

Ding, dong! Our family had no sooner gone out our back door for the evening when another friend rang our front door. She stopped to say her good-byes. Again our times for sharing have been too short and too few. She left with promises to visit us again in three months.

Friends and family come in the back door and the front. Other connect by telephone or emails. Life flies by, and the connections, if by phone, mail or in person are treasured. The warmth that flows through these renewals with those of importance in who we were, are and continue to be, can never be diminished. Each who have touched our lives, enrich and energize us, and help us to be the best we can be.

Last Night's Phone Call

Rewarding is a word I have not heard tossed around very much, and yet what can be more special than the feeling of being rewarded? Looking back I have experienced many rewards during my lifetime. Of course, in my work as a teacher and a counselor I have known the joy of opening minds to learning, growing, self-awareness, confidence, and on and on. Teaching and counseling both have their frustrations and failures, but they also have many, many satisfactions.

I am grateful to have been in two professions that have given me as much as I have given. It must be sterile and lonely working for money and status only. That work brings material things for sure, but for me, material stuff by itself is empty and unfulfilled.

During my retirement I began my latest profession of writing. I started writing because I finally found the time to do an activity that I had long enjoyed from the other side as a constant reader, and I soon discovered that it forced me to focus my thoughts and feelings that previously had only floated in the back burner of my mind.

It didn't take long to also get the rewards of my labor. I received notes, letters and phone calls from those that felt strongly about my writings. What a bonus! My work was affecting some of my readers, and, at times, influencing their lives.

Last night I had a phone call from a friend in the Twin Cities who recently began reading my book, "Cascade of Flames", and wanted to share his thoughts and feelings about the firefighters and evacuees involved in this disaster. I am busy on my next book about the veterans and rarely think of that last book, but he brought it back to focus for me, and I remembered warmly the many folks I had interviewed and how a natural disaster can change, and deepen lives forever.

Also, my friend brought my book to his place of business and was sharing it with his customers. That, dear friend, is the greatest of compliments. I hope you are reading this so you will know how deeply I appreciated your words and your gesture. Any writer will understand how I feel about last night's phone call. My wish is that all of you who struggle to put your thoughts on paper for others to read, will one day receive a call such as I did last night.

Yet Another Goodbye

Life is always filled with goodbyes. Some are more painful than others, and some are permanent. I want to keep saying hello because I know, sooner or later, I will be experiencing another goodbye.

This week my husband and I are seeing off friends we have had for many years since moving to Hot Springs. During our time here we have greeted the new wife and seen two children born to the couple. They are leaving for better opportunities for sure, but for me it means no more lunches and shopping in Rapid City with us girls, no more political chats with the husband, and nor more watching the children grow, learn and develop into adulthood.

We will keep contact, but it will not be the same. We may get photos of the children at their different stages and, hopefully, we will see one another now and then. What we will have are fond memories of the years we did spend with one another and rejoice with them in their new life. They have enriched our lives with their friendship and that will remain within us long after they move away.

Goodbye, goodluck and the best of the best from us.

Jiggety Jig, Jiggety Jog

Yes, home again, most likely for a long while. I had a warm hello from friends and family in the Twin Cities and said a fond farewell with promises to return for a longer span the next time. Since Minnesota was my home for the first sixty-five years of my life, it will always tweak strong tugs on my heart.

My presentation of life off and on the grid, including many a hello and a goodbye, was enthusiastically received by the large group of women at the Minneapolis AAUW (American Association of University Women). What fun to have such an eager and appreciative audience! It was an added bonus to have members from the audience stand up during the Q and A addition to remind me of memories I had lost in the mist of too many years.

My extraordinary husband did all of the driving, both ways, and patiently helped me with the book handling and other details. He did become distracted by many familiar faces so I was most grateful to have Jan, our hostess and friend from many years back, take care of the nitty gritty of signing and selling books while I was  greeting and meeting interested readers.

Now that we are safely home at our latest home of fourteen years, I hope to settle into life as usual, catch up with all of the catching up that awaits travelers when they return, and face the long winter ahead with the secure, cozy feelings that crept into my being from briefly touching on family and friends who all hold a special place in my heart.