Someone came to the door yesterday afternoon asking if I knew where the next door neighbors had gone on their trip. I didn’t know they were gone. Then he explained what he had just found. The back door was standing open and there were a dozen or so beer cans on the back patio. The cans were unopened.
He explained that he had painted the cement patio on Friday and was checking to be sure that it was dry and to see if it needed a second coat. The neighbors had been on a short trip to Texas. Just days before their sump pump had stopped workings during a heavy rain storm. Their basement was flooded. For three days the cleaners were working, even one day while they were gone.
Today I found out that the thieves took the cash and jewelry. They probably left in a hurry when the case of beer they decided to take apparently broke open on the patio as they were leaving. The patio is no more than 25 feet from my bedroom window. I heard nothing. It is certainly unnerving.
It was death certificate day. I picked them up at the funeral home. We hardly need a piece of paper with a County Seal on it to tell us what has happened. They will now be used to trigger a variety of transactions, most of which have no tangible impact other than keeping records straight on some computers somewhere. There was not much available in the way of insurance since she was uninsurable due to the Parkinson’s Diagnosis twenty three years ago. All the follow up tasks after a death at least have the side effect of keeping a person busy.
Today’s outing included taking Mary Ann’s clothing to the Rescue Mission thrift store. It needed to be done, but it was hard to do. There was a sinking feeling as we helped unload them. Other than a number of her well-worn favorites, the cookbooks went to the Friends of the Library to be sold in the annual book sale. Mary Ann loved the library. One of the professions that would have been satisfying to her was Librarian. She loved old book stores, especially one in the Brookside area of Kansas City, Missouri.
On the way, I picked up from the repair shop the watch that my Mom had taken me out to buy near the end of my Senior Year in high school. It is a Girard Perregaux for which she paid $85 in 1961. The jeweler said that if a comparable could be found now it would be closer to$1500. It has a self-winding weight in it. Still works. I don’t really care about the value. It is not for sale. It is for Son Micah to have. I wear the gold watch my Dad received many decades ago when he retired. It actually is of comparable value. I guess old can be good sometimes. That is good to hear.
Talking about “old,” I am now in contact with a classmate from the Second Grade, Miss Miller’s class. That was a memorable year. I got sick after eating a piece of peach pie. Before it was over, my Dad plunked me down on the examination table at the doctor’s office and declared that I had appendicitis. Dad had lost a 5 year old son to peritonitis on Christmas Eve, and almost lost another son when his appendix burst on the operating table. He was not about to lose another son. (The very oldest boy their first child had died shortly after birth.) Sure enough, I ended up on the operating table having my inflamed appendix removed later that same day.
While in the hospital recuperating, it was discovered that I had Rheumatic Fever. I missed the second half of the Second Grade year (four months). Miss Miller spent the summer going over the school work I had missed so that I could go on to the next grade. That diagnosis was a dominant part of my life until I graduated from high school.
On the way back from our errands, we made the promised stop at G’s for some frozen custard in memory of Grandma. Not only were the treats as good as expected, one of my favorite young people from the congregation dished it up for us. She is actually sort of annoying, she is a very good athlete, very smart, very pretty but not snooty about it, committed to helping others and making a difference for good, and she is a hopeless smart-aleck — all of that and sweet and caring too. Talk about annoying. She even admitted to reading this blog sometimes. You know who you are! Even after I became a Geezer I found myself enjoying the bits of contact I had with Youth in the congregation. I spent the first 18 years of my ministry in service especially to Youth.
Someone just moved in two houses away. She came over to introduce herself to a couple of us talking outside. Soon there were four of us, two who had lost spouses two years ago. As we were talking I soon realized that for the last many years, I would not have been able to stay and talk, but would have rushed into the house to check on Mary Ann. It will be hard to get used to this new reality.
Today we stopped by church to get the list of gifts given to Faith in memory of Mary Ann. I was surprised at how many gifts had come in. I have started thinking about how what comes in should be used. It would please Mary Ann very much to be able to provide that tangible evidence of appreciation of all the years of caring for her by so many Volunteers from Faith.
Early tomorrow is the time that Lisa and the girls leave on their way back home to Kentucky. It is hard to imagine getting through these events without Lisa and Micah’s help and support. Like it or not, tomorrow will be the first day by myself in the house. It is a new reality — can’t go back. Right now I am running on adrenalin. The crash has to come. When it does, I will get through it. The two who lost their spouses two years ago were emphatic about what is the hardest thing, the loneliness. No one can fix that, even by trying to keep the surviving spouse busy. We just have to deal with it and survive it.
For now, the odiferous ants have arrived. It is an annual invasion. The Tero is out and they are gathering, eating it and, hopefully, taking it to the nest to kill more. Pest Controller Tom will be by tomorrow to do some more serious work on them. Hopefully they will soon leave the premises. I am certainly not interested in their company, even if I do get lonely.
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June 23, 2010 at 10:30 pm
Pastor Pete, it was interesting to find out someone else that missed a lot of school because of Rheumatic Fever. It hit me in 6th grade, after a severe strep throat that went untreated. One morning, I could not walk down the stairs and my folks thought I had polio! I survived a month in the hospital flat on my back with a heart murmur, missed 3 months of school, had 4 aspirin every 4 hours and daily penicillin for over 2 years(until I had a reaction) and no sports or PE for 4 years. The murmur eventually went away, thank God. The time taught me how to rest and be still and do a lot of praying!
Our thoughts are with you as you go through this period of loneliness. It was good to see you in church with lots of folks talking to you. We’ll catch you the next time.
Janet
June 23, 2010 at 10:48 pm
It appears that our experience was very comparable. I couldn’t bring myself to swallow the shiny red Penicillin pills, so Mom crushed them in a spoon. They tasted terrible. When the Dr. tried to take blood for the sedimentation tests, I tightened my muscles so much that sometimes he couldn’t get any blood out. I sat on the sidelines in gym class from 3rd grade until there was not more gym class in high school. I was grateful not to have to learn square dancing in the 8th Grade. I was the envy of all the other guys. I would put my hands on the side walls of the stairway and hop down on one leg when it flared up and one knee swelled and stiffened.
Pr. Pete
June 24, 2010 at 9:21 pm
I’m sure those pills were terrible! Yes, I remember all those blood tests- I didn’t like them either.
July 2, 2010 at 8:22 am
My mother also contracted rheumatic fever…quite severely in her 20’s…in fact, since I was 8mos old when she was taken to the hospital, she must have BEEN twenty. She has been packing us up to join Daddy in Germany (Air Force, 1954) but had a cold she thought…
My dad’s parents got a phone call to drive in (they lived in the country) and collect their baby granddaughter, their daughter-in-law has been sent to the hospital and the doctor couldn’t promise that she would live. It was a defining moment for each of us in the family that impacted our lives and relationships forever! And while this was a horrible thing to happen…still much that was good resulted from these circumstances…which IS what our God promises us, isn’t it? Mama recovered over five years, and lived a vibrant life guiding me throught my childhood. We didn’t lose her until I was 19, again from a rheumatic fever complication, mitral stenosis.
Goodness! If my comments are going to be THIS long I need to get a blogspot! The direction my thoughts started with me was an identification of another commonality in life…and how glad I am that you survived to share your life through writing. Mama never talked about the illness itself. Only about how difficult the following three years of bedrest recuperation were when her little girl spent all her time with her “other mothers” (my grandma and Daddy’s older sister, my Aunt Janet) as an active toddler might. Mama’s best attraction was that she would have some one lift me onto her lap and then she would read to me. I am grateful that your heart has been strong enough for you to care for MaryAnn. I know that it will also be strong enough to carry you through this time of grieving…God will support you in the heavy lifting, and be beside you in the empty minutes. Godspeed.