A Thousand Goodbyes

July 30
Monday

Bill and I went to breakfast in Slade's Corners, then to a meat locker where I bought some brats Bill suggested I try. Back at his place I visited with he and Dorothy until just after ten o'clock.

Leaving is harder each time. I see the age on their faces and in their steps. I know that one day soon I may not be able to see them anymore. I am grateful to God that we have a good relationship--but I will be saddened when they die.

We stopped by Kathy's where we talked and had a late lunch before heading south. Brandon was there with us. He showed me pictures of his life at the park. There he was holding baby gators and grownup snakes--even dressed as a scary clown for the Halloween "Haunted Woods" event. Art stopped by during his lunch hour to say "Hi."

It wasn't so easy to leave there either.

Depressed, I ate like a hog all the way home. All stuff that was bad for me: the donuts, chocolate covered raisins, White Castle jalapeno cheese burgers. More still when I got home. No self-control. Very shaming.

Highway 30 is a long stretch of nothing. It hadn't bored me on the way too Wisconsin, but it nagged me all the way home.

At home I tried to read, couldn't; tried to watch television, couldn't; tried to write, couldn't. What did I do? Sulked and played Mah Jong on the computer. Felt like I was on a road to nowhere.



Straight rusting rails
weeds in between cross ties--
a thousand goodbyes. 

Trees and Donuts

July 29
Sunday

Bill and Dorothy went to mass leaving Duke and I at the house. Usually I go to church with Jeff and Sheri when I am in town on Sundays. Jeff is readying himself for a baseball trip (he's a host) leaving Monday for Ohio and the east coast. This Sunday I decided to take Duke to a park we hadn't visited.

The park adjoins the middle school in Genoa City. There is an old wood with large trees, a good deal of which has been cleaned of underbrush. The result is an open, but shaded area that is great in the heat.

It was great for mosquitoes and gnats, too. They drove us out after a few minutes. We headed back to Bill's.

Not long after we returned Bill and Dorothy came back. Bill made breakfast: poached eggs, Canadian bacon, toast and Dorothy's homemade strawberry jam. Delicious.

As I sat on the deck with Dorothy while Bill set a live trap for chipmunks, I noticed for the first time there are varicose veins beginning to show in my legs. More confirmation I am getting older. I didn't need it.


















After buying mosquito repellent and getting gas Duke and I again went to the park. I dusted both Duke and myself--although I later discovered I had forgotten my forearms, much to the mosquito's joy and my regret. We stayed for a much longer time and explored more of the park. Prior to its annexation as a park this woods was the site of many a camp out, usually involving beer, in my high school days. It looks better now. I checked out tree trunks.


Standing tall, leaning
having weathered life's many storms--
Oak tree's trunk

At three I went to Kathy's to visit; Duke stayed with Dorothy. Kathy had a houseful; 15 or so relatives. I knew most of them from my youth and though I couldn't remember all their names I had a great time.

I had just missed two of Kathy and Art's sons, Adam and Cameron, but Brandon was there. He works in Florida at a park. He watches over gators and turtles, leads bird watchers, referees disputes among the campers, etc. I hadn't seen him for several years and was duly impressed.

I stayed a bit to talk with Kathy. Before I left, she gave me two cake donuts purchased at the Congregational Church sale. Just today I had learned from Bill that the church uses my grandmother's donut recipe! Neither of us were aware there was a sale today. What a treat it will be to enjoy grandma's baking once again after 44 years!

I went to Jeff's, situated across the street on an angle. Sheri was out getting sandwiches. Jeff called and asked her to bring home an Italian beef for me. She got out a veggie tray and dip. It was good.

Jeff is my oldest friend. We met in 1961 when his mother, Catherine, brought him to my grandmother's house to play catch with me. I had just come from Cincinnati after dad's death. He became my good friend. Last year we celebrated the 50th anniversary of that meeting by returning to grandma's old house for a game of catch. It was good to see him again. Our throws didn't have the same zip as in '61 but we had just as much fun.

On the Road

July 28,
Saturday

Rough start today. Up at 7:04, closed my eyes for a moment and awoke at 8:45. Had to scramble to get packed and ready the house for visitors. My plans to leave for Wisconsin at 9:00 were scrapped. I left at 10:30.

Rather than be upset--my normal reaction--I stayed unruffled. (Epictetus wrote: "If you would cure anger, do not feed it. Say to yourself:'I used to be angry every day; then every other day; now only every third or fourth day.' When you reach thirty days offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving to the gods."--this would be one in a row for me!)  I looked forward to the drive and to my visit. The boring stretch on Hwy 30 didn't phase me. Nor did heavy Chicago traffic. The trip took about five-and-a-half hours. Since I entered a new time zone I arrived at 3:00 in Genoa City.


The first stop was at an empty field so that Duke could run. He is always happy to do that. He skipped, leapt, raced and spun until he had the ride rust run off. Then he drank like a horse and looked at me smiling. I was glad to have pleased him so.

Bill was waiting on the deck when we arrived. There was a time when we had a rocky relationship. That changed after mom's death. Maybe I am his last connection to her. No matter, he greeted me warmly and I returned his greeting gladly. Duke remembered and went to him wagging his stump. All was well.

Dorothy came out, too. She has always been a favorite of mine. She and mom were close. Mom loved her as though she were her daughter. Dorothy is not a talker, yet she and mom would visit for hours. She misses mom as much as anyone and keeps flowers on her grave. I have offered to help pay but she refuses. "It's the least I can do for Helen," she says.

Honoring laughter,
love, time and conversation--
flowers on the grave

After our welcome we caught up on events. Then Kathy, their youngest of daughters--they also have two sons--came in. With Kathy were her children Kyle and Kaitlin (sp?); her other son, Jerrod, came in later.

Bill and I were Pinochle partners vs Dorothy and Kathy. They smoked us. On my last visit Bill and I had been triumphant. This time was payback.

Kathy's husband Jeff came. He is quiet but a terrific guy. Jerrod and I talked about books. He enjoys fantasy immensely. There was little I could recommend to him he hadn't already read. I did point him to Anne McCafferty and Terry Brooks. This was the first time we had really talked with each other. I found him to be bright kid, though like most his age, it was clear that he wasn't certain my suggestions would amount to much. At his age I would have felt similarly.

Tomorrow I will see a different Jeff and Kathy; my long time friends. I spent enough time at their house that they are like brother and sister to me.

My sister, Karen, is 60 today.





  

Long Distance Call

July 27
Friday

Duke and I walked this morning. It was a good walk. I had the shock collar on Duke but didn't have to use it. He did beautifully. Good thing, too: I hadn't switched it on! At lunch time we rode to JR's drive in and I had two grilled cheese sandwhiches

As I readied dinner I thought to call my neighbor Jeanne and invite her to eat with me. She has fed me more times than I can count and has been a terrific neighbor. There was no answer so I left a message. She arrived just as I was sitting down.

Jeanne asked about the house, the dog, my upcoming trip to Wisconsin, etc. She also asked if I had seen a local historical house that was up for sale. I had, she hadn't, so we went to see it. It was brick, colonial style and needed a lot of work. On the way back we stopped at Dairy Queen for ice cream.

I called Angie to ask the hours of tomorrow's open house. The hours are 1-3 PM. Hope somebody likes it.

My sister called. Her birthday is tomorrow. I'm certain she called to remind me in case I might forget--although she didn't say as much. Her calls are always cryptic. She seldom calls for the reason she states. If you can't divine the reason she will bring it up as a last resort. Drives me crazy. Small talk--then I wished her happy birthday.

Remember me, she says.
I have had no time to forget--
long distance call.

At Another's House

July 26
Thursday

Read a bit and watered flowers. Duke and I rode for an hour or two, with no particular place in mind. I played a Librivox recording of Return of Tarzan. Librivox recordings are books in the public domain read by volunteers. Some read better than others. This reader had amusing quirks. Arabs, were A-rabs and his attempts at French and German accents usually ended up sounding Swedish. 

At home I was considering what, if anything, I could do with, or should think about, a fragment recently read in one of Pinsky's poems:

"Like chess a grid of exploits adequately difficult."
                                          Robert Pinsky
                                          Work Song, Gulf Music

I like the poem. The above fragment is one of those short bits of writing that stike me from time-to-time as being wonderfully and fearfully made.

Some descriptions are so vivid/perfect/correct/powerful that they leap from the page, slap me and leave me both admiring and jealous of the writer and his words.

Another example:

"To the right, the sun, cold and pale, is westering. Far off, a little yellow plane scuttles down a runway, steps awkwardly into the air, then climbs busily, learning grace."
                                             Robert Penn Warren
           Segregation: The Inner Conflict in the South

Taken on its face there is no intrinsic value of the words apart from their perfection in painting a picture of an act of no real moment. Yet they strike me dumb; force me to read them again; make me wish I could write so beautifully, powerfully.

I went nowhere with my wonderings, but as I sat Rose called to ask if I would like to eat with she and Roger. I had eaten and said thanks but no. The real reason is my natural bent to avoid human contact. An hour later I repented, suddenly desiring company and called there asking if they had finished eating and could Duke and I come over. They had and I did.

We had a long visit. They are good friends and good for me. They know my virtues and my faults and I am comfortable with them. I felt silly for not immediately saying yes, but was thankful that they still welcomed me.


How many good times have I missed by staying home?

Bright are the daisies
bold the laughter, loud the joy--
In another house


This from Ecclesiastes seems to fit my mood and understanding:

Two are better than one,
Because they have a good reward for their labor.
For if they fall, one will lift up his companion.
But woe to him who is alone when he falls,
For he has no one to help him up.
Again, if two lie down together, they will keep warm;
But how can one by warm alone?

Though one may be overpowered by another, two     can withstand him.

And a threefold cord is not quickly broken.
                                      Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 (NKJV)

Later at home, Ryan stopped by to pick up a simple wooden cross and chain for Pastor Matt, my replacement. It had been given me by the previous pastor. I thought it fitting Matt should have it.

A Conversation

July 25
Wednesday

On the way to my noon meeting with pastor Mike I came upon an accident. A car and motorcycle had hit head-on. The rider was thrown over the car and seriously hurt. He is not expected to live. I spoke with someone who was present at the scene. He told me that the driver of the car said the cycle swerved into her lane. A witness, however, reported that the driver swerved while talking on her cell phone. The news reported the driver's version. The rider, in intensive care and on life support, was unavailable for comment.

My meeting with Mike lasted an hour and a half. We had a good talk. I wondered how he would approach me; as a former pastor or as a congregant. The answer?  Both. We shared experiences as pastors and he was very open. I appreciated that.

Pastors usually welcome an opportunity to speak with other pastors. With others we keep our feelings bottled up because most wouldn't understand.  

We spoke about church conflict. Mike's observation was, "Christians lie." So true. No one ever wants to admit there is a problem. Everyone pretends and is angry if you try to bring it to a head. He reviewed what he was doing in the church, what problems  were likely in the near future and in the immediate past.

He asked me what I was looking for in the church. I was honest. I told him I was looking for a place to rest and worship until I left for Mexico. I told him I had no idea how long that might be, but I would help him in any way I was able.

His approach was refreshing. He asked my strengths and weaknesses and if there was anything in particular I would or would not do. Mike also asks what my particular needs were spiritually. "Time," was my reply. He asked me if I would serve on a worship team. I said "Yes."

Three times during the conversation he made a point of telling me that he was "a conservative and an evangelical." I appreciated the heads up. I am conservative theologically for the most part, but liberal socially. I told him so. I didn't want him to be shocked if and when I disagree with him politically.

It will be a tightrope walk at times. He spoke of Promise Keepers. I refrained from comment. I love the premise, but it is a right wing political action group as far as I'm concerned.

I hope we don't clash, but if I am there too long we will. It is inevitable--unless I am prepared to lie--and I am not.  Politics aside, I like Mike. I pray we get along and learn from each other.

Angie had planned to show me a house but it fell through. She said we would reschedule. This Saturday is an open house. Let's get this sold. I'm ready to go.

In the evening Duke and I walked, I watered the flowers, watched an hour of TV, read and worked on the blog.



Flowers opening
as I walked and suddenly--
staircase in the leaves.

Woolf at the Door

July 24
Tuesday

Couldn't sleep last night. To bed at 2AM, back out at three and awake 'til four. Got up at eight to get to store and ready the meal for Dave and Kathy.

While I was working on the meal and Duke was working to sneak pieces of onion/onion skin out of the trash. He loves onion. I let a slice fall to the floor so he could "discover" it.

The meal plan was fish tacos (tilapia) and a skewer of mixed fruit & vegetables with a Kroger lemon roll for desert. The skewer held pineapple, red bell pepper, mushrooms, Roma tomatoes, zucchini, onion and yellow squash, all brushed with olive oil and seasoned with Tajin, a condiment I learned to enjoy on my last trip to Mexico.

I called Dave to remind him that lunch was at noon and then finished Pennant Race. Kerry called--he was in Florida for jury duty--and we talked about my impending move while I waited for Dave and Kathy. It is always good to talk with Kerry. He has been a trusted friend since 1985 and I love him like a brother.

Dave and Kathy were late. They drove by the house twice before they found it. Mystifying since Dave was just here last Tuesday. He wasn't going to tell me but Kathy ratted him out.

They seemed to enjoy the meal. We sat and talked 'til about 2:30. Kathy played tug and fetch with Duke. That made her one of his favorites.

I napped as soon as they left. Afterword Duke and I took a ride; it was too hot to walk. Home, I began reading Virginia Woolf's Mrs Dalloway. I managed about 15 pages before giving up. It may be considered a classic by some but it is a classic waste of time to me. I feel the same way about James Joyce and Thomas Pynchon. If that makes me a cretin, all I can say is, "Ooga booga, ugh, grrrrr."

I read the first of the essays in Wallace Steven's The Necessary Angel. Much more satisfying.

The fellow from work called about Mexico again. I think he wants me to offer to share a house with him. It's not happening. I'll go somewhere else first. I need the time on my own.

I decided to give Woolf another chance--but not Mrs. Dalloway! I began A Room of One's Own and like it much better. I'll finish this one by reading a bit at a time. I don't think I can swallow it in one gulp. No, don't think I could do that. Not at all.

Leaving the city
hustle and bustle behind me--
a flower is company!