My unique skill at losing something right in the garden right where I am

Days roll by, just like today, this morning we learned a local friend Bob Koljard passed away at home a day ago, he was 88, had been ill, wheel chair confined, and not well enough to do much for several years so it is for the best, they say and I  agree. Yet, Jan, now a widow  has been Bob's caretaker all these years, they were married  almost 60 years and when Jan and I talked I knew she was weary.  I can relate because here, Jerry  cannot do what he used to do and so I have been shouldering and soldiering on.  Jan and I said to each other that it is very confining and not the life we ever imagined but the life we now have.  She said that she too is so doggone busy through the day  that by evening she  falls into bed only to begin again the next day.  At times it feels like the hamster treadmill, the other day I said life had become Ground Hog Day after day.  Yet I cannot complain, things are better, just not beck to full gear and we cannot travel.  So we are occupied at home.  Jerry has been going to pulmonary rehab 3 x a week and is significantly stronger, yet still needs his supplemental oxygen 24/7.   

Professional window washers

Fortunately we have someone hired to mow the lawns and this week window washers came to do the inside and outside, but there is just an awful lot to do. We are blessedly financially able to pay for services, it  is often a bigger task to find someone to do the work in this area where everyone is working, servvices are few and busy and often not taking on new customers.   Besides Jerry used to do so much, he has always been handy, a real Mr Fix It and often preferred to do things himself because he is very particular and wants it done right. But with his recovery  no longer is he doing so much. I now not only cook dinner I have cleanup afterward, Jerry used to do that and once in a great while he  does some, at least cleans off the stove, but I used to sit down after dinner, check my Facebook, catch up and finish my glass of wine.  No more, I am often on clean up duty.  Sometimes I have an extra glass of wine as I finish up.  My comfort beverage.  So after  calling Jan to  express our condolences and offer what help we might be able to give her, I proceeded on my day,  an outside chore. 

 

Far right side of the garden  where the volunteer
maple tree thrives

Yesterday I spent a few hours down in the garden weeding, clipping and spraying Round Up.  Just as recently as last year I would not have used the Round Up but  kept on pulling weeds, this year, I try to make things a little easier for myself. I have used several gallons already this year in addition to my old school pulling methods, but spraying Round Up is much easier on my back and no  stooping, etc.  Lazier maybe, more expensive, certainly, but yet anything that makes it easier I am all for these days.   

Big pile of clippings debris, branches, weeds, limbs, etc

 I kept taking my sunglasses off and on from shady areas to sunny areas..  Finally I put them in my shorts pocket because mostly I was in the shade and did not need them.  Sometime  in this last  span of  maybe 40 minutes they slipped out of my pocket.  I noticed as I headed up to the house that they were not in my pocket.  I looked around under the  shrubs and trees and perimeter where I had been last.  I know I had them in my pocket when I finished in the garden and did perimeter and bank work.  The sunglasses were  Vuarnets, over 25 years old, I had bought them in CA from my eye doctor to use when we would go  skiing up to the mountains.  I  use them primarily around here working outside because our sun is very intense, sometimes I wear them on my walks.  

One of my garden whirly gigs

Reluctantly I came up the  back hill to the house sans glasses.  I decided they must have fallen out onto the pile of lawn debris, clippings and  such that I have accumulated and that is waiting foir the landscaper service to remove when they come to do summer pruning anytime now.  The pile is massive, over  5 foot high and  3 feet wide and  yet I keep adding to it.  I had been pulling some weeds near the pile so  thought perhaps I could spot  my sunglasses there, but no luck.  So I shrugged reluctantly and turned it over to St Anthony, my go to saint  who has returned multitudes of misplace and lost things to me over my life.  Today I returned to the debris pile with more briar cuttings and my handly old pitchfork another tool from CA gardening days.  I sifted again through the  outer area and  removed the top from yesterday, the pile is so dense that they could not have fallen deep into it, so I thought for sure I could find them.  Well I was wrong, I did another perimeter and  full garden patrol and  had to admit defeat.  I guess it is time to say good bye to my favorite blue sunglasses.  I had google d last night and see they are not at all cheap in price to replace, so likely I will now  switch to using my old Ray Bans and  the Bucci's.  But I am going to miss the Vuarnets.  At least I did get a chuckle from Facebook over this escapade.  I posted about  my loss and  as soon as I began to scan for updates from friends and family I had an ad from Vuarnet, touting that they have made the best sunglasses from 1957.  Who says FB doesn't pay attention to posts?.  Yet it is still my preference for communication because it is very easy and all at once, no cumbersome logging in, writing emails, etc...I simply cannot understand people who refuse to use it. I figure they are not into social media either cannot figure it out, possibly are limited in their technology skills and/or are afraid, afraid of what?  It is as safe as a person makes it.  But this message will never change their minds and so they go along without knowing what I'm up to and since I am in touch via FB with several hundred others, I  do not care. Within a second of that FB post, I heard from a cousin in PA who had been having a bum luck day yesterday too.  And later on from another friend in  northern PA who had also  lost something yesterday,  We decided that the air waves were all in cahoots.  

Remembering Memorial Day and always

It is a dreary wet rainy day here in La Crescent,  the weather gives me a respite from the heavy duty outside gardening, trimming, hauling, etc myriad mighty physical chores I have been hard at these past few glorious spring sunshiny days.  Rain gives me a chance to rest, that is to do inside domestic chores that are never ending.  But so goes life here, while Jerry is recovering, maybe, although he has ups and downs, and lately more downs than ups???  On Thursday, we drive to Mayo in Rochester where he will see more lung specialists, to determine why he cannot process oxygen keeping him tethered to tanks and hoses.  His primary life outside the house is three days a week at pulmonary rehab where he is strengthening his muscles, but his lungs are not working.  Who knows what lies ahead anymore,  his attitude is not the best, because he feels useless, unable to do much of anything.  So this leaves it all up to me and as a friend said today, "good thing you are healthy and able to do so much."  Yes I am thankful for that, but it would be good to have a rest now and then and not always have the next task beckoning.  Being a compulsive person with only 2 settings either on or off, I spend all day doing so that night brings me exhausted to bed.  Jerry has little interest is even riding somewhere and it is really rough to even get a semi conversation out of him. He never has been one for talking much, but this all leaves me worn out too.

Greenwood Cemetery, Lower Burrell, PA
Hillside family graves plot

Still as I started to write it is Memorial Day and I feel badly that I did not get to PA again this year so far to tend to my graves and to visit my 2 friends there at Greenwood Cemetery too, Dana and Carlie passed last year.  Really I know more dead people than living folks or so it seems.  This is the cost of aging.  We survivors, left behind to remember.  I wish there were a florist I could contact in PA to have flowers delivered to my graves, I say my graves because it is only me who is left to care for them, a duty I feel deeply.  And yet when I am gone, there will be no one, so perhaps the graves are being prepared for the coming neglect.  

My father and Combat Crew 193

My father Lewis S BallAdd caption

Today I remember my father, US Army Air Corp 2 Lt L S Ball, B-24 pilot, gone forever disappeared somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean with his entire combat crew 193, June 1944, months before my birth.  The father I never knew but knew of, the young  man I would now outlive by many many years, he is standing back row, this photo  on the far left with the crew members. .I would learn later in life through my membership in the American War Orphans Network (AWON) that there were  many, some 185,000 of us WWII kids, deemed "orphans" by our own   government, yet Mom never acknowledged the word"orphan", she said she was alive and that I was not an "orphan." I never knew anyone in my situation growing up, how I wish I had, because I have learned so much through AWON, we share so many similar feelings.  A time when  little was discussed contrast to today when everything is talked beyond reason.  I always wanted to get to Charleston, SC to look out at the Atlantic ocean from there where the plane departed, never to return, but so far as  with other things I want to do someday, no Charleston trips have materialized.  This photo shows him, gazing out there toward the ocean that would consume them all.  Oh how different life could have been.  I have no grave to visit for him, no cemetery plot to leave flowers, only the vast Atlantic.  Because no trace was ever found of the plan and crew, my paternal grandmother went to her grave always believing he would return some day.  I have learned about the German U boats that p[atrolled the east coast, and there was speculation, what if on that return flight from Nassau, as they radioed that they needed fuel, what if, a German U boat surfaced, bam, and disappeared.  My late uncle Henry, his brother believed there was something to that and  perhaps there was, it was a different country, time, place.  much speculation, no definitive answers except that he would be gone ..

"Wally", in my dad';s writing

.Another mystery to me was this photo of "Wally" that I found in 2004 when Mom died and I was clearing out her closet.  There among a suitcase of mementos and documents of my father along with letters she had received from Hap Arnold, founding General of the US Air Force, was the photo.  I would learn much later, several years back now from cousins I never knew and have yet to meet,  in Taunton, MA that Wally was the only child of my father's aunt Margaret, a sister to my paternal grandmother.  Walter Kudzia, KIA in the Battle of the Bulge in Germany, 1945 months after he had turned 20.  His body would be returned to MA in 1947 to be buried at home, as his mother wished.   Wally was a rifleman, US Army, enlisted right out of high school.  Part of his tale is told in a recent WWII magazine.  It seems that my family paid dearly the price with fatalities in WWII.  Something I will be asking the good Lord about at the end of my time here, "why"  I pause to remember them, the ones I did not know.  I suppose the answer could be, "why not"  

Walter's death WWII magazine

And so Memorial Day, wet, rainy here, pausing for some time at the computer, I have posted all this and more onto Facebook, where I will get comments from my AWON family for sure.  This blog writing that I do so sporadically, is almost a private diary for me. 

Today another friend sent this You tube link, nicely done, A Soldier  Died Today, it brings tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat     ttps://www.youtube.com/embed/eEs4ke7cdNQ?feature=player_detailpage%25&fbclid=IwAR08yZr3tMz4dpapnxg0DJn2qTVkqT4f15jp-Vi6Eoh2MvXzf4VdjTuTCT0   If you are not moved, you are heartless..Here in La Crescent there is no more Legion building where the old guys go to gather and talk, instead it was sold out, the building had gone to ruin, sold for a pittance of a room in a Community Center, the big deal for the town.  Many of us think this will be another waste of money and become a burden on the property tax payers in the future but for now it is welcomed by the community.  However the Legion is no more, gone with it are the reminisces and the multi thousands of $$ donated to this town and the entire community over the years.  The event Center, bah humbug!  I know I am aging, I do not like these changes, I am comfortable with familiarity.  

Look forward, ever forward, eyes on the prize

Seems to me at times that I have more memories than plans ahead.  As Jerry recovers slowly, we are grateful, but it is slow.  We have had to cancel our plans to attend the American Coach RV Rally in Houston in May.  I just knew that after his pneumonia bout it would not be but he kept assuring me that we were going, he too would like to get out and about.  But finally he faced reality and agreed that I cancel.  I guess all is not lost, there is a waiting list and so someone else will happily take our spot.  I worry and wonder.  And yet I have to chase that feeling away,  looking ahead is the way to be, forward,, ever onward keeping eyes on the prize.  Never weaken for that is defeat.  And do not settle, keep on.

Watching the vertical flakes out the front window

Today our cooler April temps have returned but yesterday we avoided the predicted 3 to 5 inches snow storm.  Our Mississippi River Bluffs shielded us  and the worst of the storm fell south and proceeded east.  Yes the snow came down in big fluffy white flakes, wet and melting as soon as it hit the ground.  Phew!  Just last week I had put my boots  away, cleaned up, into boxes on the closet shelves,  so glad I did not have to retrieve them. I was glad that I was able to get to mass Saturday evening.  I prefer that to Sunday morning mass but sometimes the weather can foil my plans.  

Easter pastel bouquet

To the right is my self purchased Easter pastel bouquet for this year, I am very impressed with it's lasting.  The colors perfectly complemented my pastel bunny vintage Easter tablecloth.   That is another  thing, seems most of  my favorite possessions, used occasionally, are vintage, at least 20-30-40 years old or more.  And that makes me wistful too.  All the time I spent carefully accumulating and keeping in good condition all my treasures and yet there is no one who is or will be interested in them.  I always imagined having grandchildren, relatives or friends to pass things along to, family treasures that I inherited and treasured, all with memories, my own collections, etc., but fate did not go as I planned. 

My vintage Easter bunny tablecloth.

As I got this out this year, I wistfully recall so many Easters years ago setting our table in northern California for family gatherings and so joyfully displaying this tablecloth. Often back then we had huge gatherings, which we always hosted and  most often served buffet style.  Today with just Jerry and myself, I set a fancier table while missing the old times, less work, and not nearly the commotion but also not the fun.  Did I appreciate it fully back then?   I  know as well as reading articles that no one wants your treasures, books, linens, china, crystal, you name it they are not interested.  That's why the stuff shows up at estate sales cheap.  So I try to enjoy and use things periodically and  little by little I am  donating things when the time is right.  Perhaps not my most treasured, but certainly am clearing out, benefiting the church rummage sale, where someone will get a big bargain and I will have cleared out some. It was not too many years ago that I sought bargains at such sales, now I do not even go there.  I do not want to be tempted.  One recent treasure that I donated was my late aunt Jinx's immaculate, beautiful sunbeam stainless steel electric fry pan.  I brought it back here when she passed in 2009 and  we cleared her home.  I should have left it for the sale, but I thought maybe I would use it.  She took such care with all her belongings.  Yet that  electric pan has sat on the bottom of the linen closet in the hallway ever since.  I had forgotten about it until I saw it while moving everything off the closet floor to prepare for new carpet.  I debated, but talked to myself, " how long has this been there"  So off it went.  Ahh Aunt Jinx, she was always tickled to be able to give me something when we visited and her words I still remember, "someday all this will be yours."  At least she had me, but even I sentimental, could not keep everything.  And now, I find myself with excess and so it will move along, little by little.  I have made some progress,  half my fabric stash is gone, donated to friends who quilt and sew, I no longer do that but so enjoyed accumulating fabrics.  Two shelves of craft items gone to the church rummage sale, ribbons, boxes, ties, paints, beads, you name it, all for ideas I had, projects never done.  My  intentions far exceed my execution.  As they told me when I was a kid, "your eyes are bigger than your stomach" 

Inside the Nordic bundt rose pan

Nordic ware rose shaped bundt pan

Another of my  treasures the Nordic ware expensive bundt pan, I bought this about 2004, so many times the flopped cakes came out of it, not the beauties I imagined baking and serving. About a month ago I tried it again, to another disaster, the cake was delicious but did not  come out  from the crevices, although I greased it  so carefully as instructed.  I  placed it back on the shelf and  then asked myself, "Seriously have you had maybe one good experience with this over the years?"  So off this went to the church rummage sale, with my well wishes for the next baker who may have far better luck producing a beautiful rose petal cake than I did. While I wished for roses I got flops, just like life sometimes.    

Crumbled bundt cake delicious
 but not as  rosey as intended

 So we cannot know what tomorrow brings, but we can be realistic about today.  

When your other half is only about 1/3

March 26, spring a few skimpy patches of snow remained

March 26 drying on clothesline

I write this in April, another snow winter blast here yesterday just when we had enjoyed high 60 degrees and 70, we thought it was spring, but Old Man Winter returned, although not as severely as last April.  Still yesterday we had icy rain, then snow, over night thunder and lightning which continued to this morning and then sleet.  A wintry mix, a common Midwest term with which I have become too familiar  for crappy spring winter weather, continues through tomorrow.  March 26, photos here show springtime, I had clothes hanging on the line to dry, as my sporadic spring cleaning began. 

Moved table and stuff from study to TV room

 I face some intensive projects this spring, replacing the carpet in the living room and hallway on the main floor, upstairs and replacing pad from seepage in the study downstairs, with restretching the carpet.  That seepage, never happened before but this March with sudden melt and heavy rain, the ground leaked.  What a mess, but still way better off than others with flooded basements.  I discovered it while Jerry was back in the hospital for a brief time and somehow managed to move all the furniture out of the way.  Fortunately I found a company to come the next day to steam clean the carpet to avoid mold and the young man pulled out the soaked pad for me. A heavy duty rental fan from Heth Hardware in place over the weekend ensured full dryness and neighbors and friends helped with carrying the 50 lb. fan downstairs and returning it for me. 

 I have had to do most everything around here with Jerry not being at full capacity and strength. That is why the title of the other half only maybe 1/3.   It has been a long long siege of health challenges with him since his lung operation November 7, just when he was finally mending.  March brought a flair up of the adhesion in his gut from the 35+ year old surgery in CA way back (happened last year too Easter), and we were blessed that it healed without follow up surgery.  He was home only a week until our PCP on a follow up visit sent him back to the hospital, for what would finally be determined bacterial pneumonia. He has been home about three weeks now and I operate on the fear of what next and how can this keep going, but truthfully we have been blessed and are very thankful.  

March 21, Us thru it all

Jerry's follow up with oncology just the other day now, was good news, all tests show no cancer, and that is a huge  blessing.  Meantime.  three days a week he goes to pulmonary rehab to try to get his lung capacity and strength back to where it was pre pneumonia.  And yes, he had the pneumonia inoculations, including the heavy dose for seniors but truthfully, there are so many diverse bacteria that can strike and his lungs being compromised from surgery hosted the infection.  Thankful that we live here with care from Mayo, who pull out all stops as they did analyzing and testing for legionella, streptococcus, etc. ruiling out everything else, they get to the root cause before proposing treatment.  Well it has already taken me over 2 weeks to complete this post, yet again why I prefer Facebook or FB as we know it.  A day by day entry and everyone is kept up to date.  Here, I write for "amusement" or posterity. 

April 11, snow again

I began writing this post to include our recent snow "bomb" April 11, so here it is.  but now all is menlted and the green grass emerges, surely soon the tulips will show buds and the daffodils will emerge.  This is different from CA where the daffodils preceded the tulips.  And at least this is not the bigger snow dumps we had last  April when Easter came earlier and the two heavy snowfalls meant getting the plow guy back to clear our driveway.  I recall one day I did not go over to the hospital where Jerry was with the adhesions.  Wow  I sometimes say this has been the Winter of our discontent but really all this started a year ago with hospitalizations.  Enough  and now we go  forward.  One last snow shot, with sun rise, looks mystical with that blue sphere, likely a reflection from the window.  But I do prefer the green grass and clear drive.  

View from front window. April 11.  

 

Wintry Blahs Gripes

Another cold winter snow swath is predicted to hit us tomorrow, so today I prepared by getting ready to be stuck at home and the just in cases.  I filled up with gas and made a grocery run.  Jerry had warned me when he woke me up, "If you have anything to do best do it today because tomorrow is not going to be good weather" Oh great  again.

When I got out of bed this morning I already felt what I can only describe as "Blah" 
and decided I would not go to the Y for my Monday morning Zumba.  Used to be I would prevail upon myself and tell me I needed the activity and  when I did not want to go was just the time I should, and I would be right and glad I did it.  But today I could not muster up that conversation with myself,  I cannot talk me into doing much these days.  Long winter blahs have  overcome me, even though we have had bright sunshine  the past few days. Jerry is still healing and we have not been as active socially as I would like, but that is all part of waiting out  the winter. So long as I get out around most days, I am  somewhat content, but I am getting cabin fever and at a minimum frustration  with lack of variety.  I do not understand how those cooped into smaller places cope. Frankly this is not what we planned, we are supposed to be down south in Florida in our coach living the good life.  Plans, we make them and God laughs.  

Snow from  over nite Jan 19, 2019

The weekend snow storm  and sub zero temps would have the La Crosse Y parking lot Y icy, they do not clean the snow off thoroughly  the last year.  I have noticed many things have gone down hill with the retirement of the senior staff, maintenance crew and now in the hands of the younger staff.  And today MLK Holiday the Y will be even more crowded.  Mondays have become a drag, almost an impossibility to park even on the far side, King Street where I usually park.  Nothing frustrates me as much as not being able to park to work out.  Honestly the Y really needs to do something about the situation, but what?  The do not have the parking capacity but continuously do outreach for new members, holding meetings, enticing people to join, and encouraging folks to sit there for hours.  Actually there is I feel too much lobby and area sitting,  many people just congregate there, I guess it is social and all for the good, but while they sit  their cars take up all the parking spaces.  I have long supported the YMCA for their Christian values, but truth be told I am now questioning my  commitment to them.  I  wonder why I would support an organization where I no longer enjoy the  activities and experiences as I once did, has it just grown old for me or  has it changed, have I?  Ahh too many wintry questions. When I helped in their annual fundraising efforts, which I no longer do, I  learned that  25%  of their membership is  on a subsidized  plan of some sort, this means lower fees for  those unable to pay and higher fees for  the rest of us.   I used to think that was nice but lately I have been either becoming less charitable or more aware?  Is this  just another  socialistic movement with a Robin Hood like agenda, take from the haves and give to the  have-nots, make it all equal.  That is a philosophy which I rather detest, it leads to dependence at worst and laziness at best, socialism, communism.  Not for me.  So I find myself feeling less amenable towards solicitations for the betterment of whatever group.  I donate very generously to my church and to a few select organizations, and really do not consider myself hard hearted or stingy, but  when does enough become enough? Truly if there were other options than the Y I would switch, but the gyms are not for me, and the community ed group classes are in the evenings, I prefer daytime.  And so  I may be stuck with the Y, it occurs to me that being cooped for the winter makes me think more about things like this than I would if I were outdoors.  

Curses foiled again

snow dusting ou tthe back garage door

The title are the words that I thought this morning when I awoke to the overnight snow dusting. Yesterday had been nice and sunny but here in southeast MN almost WI, we  get a day of sunshine at a time.  For which I am always grateful.  I had considered going to get a pedicure today and fortunately I had not made an appointment because Old Man Winter had foiled my plans. Although just a dusting that Jerry refers to as "nuisance snow" and my late friend Carlie called "onion skin dusting" I knew it meant I would have a chore to clear the house  driveway before this stuff turns to ice and  stays underneath another layer.  More snow is expected this weekend or later tomorrow although we should not see the siege of the weather predicted to sweep across the plains and  up through the Ohio Valley into the east.  Sigh, our snowplow guy would not be out for this.  So I waited and then shoveled down the drive to the mailbox just putting something in the mail in time for the carrier to pick it up and  give me our delivery.  Anyway, I am so very tired of winter weather.  This makes me seriously want to sell off and move south.  But as many know our medical care here is second to none in the world and there is nowhere else with the same level, not even the Mayo systems in AZ or FL.  And so, here we be, it would be tolerable if we had been able to migrate south for the winter as we planned.  But, " curses foiled again."

House driveway cleared of snowdusting by me today

I was curious, where did those words come from, so I quickly tried Google but found nothing that seemed to fit where I might have heard it. 

So I went immediately  to my primary form of communication, my Facebook page and asked and within seconds several friends responded,  from Mr. Magoo, iconic cartoon of the 40's and 50's. One we watched at the movies and later on black and white tv.  Another friend, who is obviously younger,  responded with a reference to Rocky and Bullwinkle who likely borrowed it from Magoo and with a link to what could be an interesting read  in Pioneer Productions although obvioulsly unaware of Mr Magoo.     https://pioneerproductions.blogspot.com/2008/10/curses-foiled-again.html?m=1&fbclid=IwAR2-HVNKIZN9hWHmBmU00HCCgkFZ9HGIWnS6FAxKxGBuE9ibIi55nJ7okL0

And remember another friend added, "Oh Magoo, You've done it again!"  Oh yes I remember that, I said it all the time, especially when I talked to myself about something I had messed up.  Wikipedia says this about Mr. Magoo,..."a character in a series of US cartoon films (1949-65). He is old and cannot see very well, so he talks to objects and walks into dangerous situations. A Walt Disney film, Mr Magoo (1997), used real actors, with Leslie Nielsen as Magoo."  How's that for dredging up thoughts from the past.  As I responded to another FB comment, "who knows what other words will surface from the pits of my thoughts in this dreary winter." 

A month later than planned

Us, Jerry and me May 5, 2018 at the LaCrosse Symphony

Although this blog is not, nor has it ever been  a means of communication for me,I  will try to keep it somewhat as a frame of reference for all that I have written here in the past.  Way back when I started  this, it was how I thought folks would check in.  I was wrong in that judgement.  The blog was an outlet for my  writings and through it I met  some  great folks, mostly on Sepia Saturday where we could share old photos, histories, etc.  But  those same folks have too migrated to social media, Facebook, where I have found a home and the best way to keep in touch with  friends and family.   For the  wary, nervous, or perhaps technology and change resistant people who do not  use the media,  it is their choice. But then they should not  wonder why they hear not from others.  We can use our smart phones and post in an instant and so Facebook replaces email and old time blogging.  I do not understand that fear and aversion to social media, it is as safe as one  chooses to make it, but so it goes.  There are many things I do not understand and truthfully now, at 74 years, my age, I do not even ponder nor try to understand those others nor their choices.  

I meant to post excerpts from our 2018 annual greeting letter, but truth, I sent few cards and greetings this year.  You will know why as you read,  2018 has not been a good year for  us, never the less, we made it and look ahead, always ahead to far  better times!  

“Hope Smiles from the threshold of the year to come, Whispering ‘it will be happier’…” so wrote Alfred Lord Tennyson.

Me rearranging some of the study,
what else to toss or donate?

"Merry Christmas, 2018   This was our year of trips canceled, hospitalizations, dental and medical treatments, surgeries. Last December I canceled our snowbird reservations due to my sudden tooth ache, an old (30 years?)  root canal went bad, infected, antibiotics healed it but I was reluctant to travel and end up looking for dental care in a strange place with no way to know if it would  return.  I am less adventurous than some of my friends who  urged  me to not cancel but just go! Ended up with oral surgeon for extraction, early February. So, began process of months for healing, consults, dental implant and crown, ending in October.  Fortunately I did not need a bone graft and healed well but those periodic appointments kept us home. I used that time to clear out a lot of clutter, collection of old magazines, etc from the downstairs study.  As much progress as I made  there is always more to do. 

 

Grand daughter Janine and husband
John and their dog

Easter Eve, Jerry ended up in the Emergency Room, severe gut pain,determined it was from adhesions from his former surgery >35 years ago in CA.  The surgeon cleared the adhesion with a probe, avoiding surgery.  That was a 2 week + hospitalization, culminating in canceling our travel plans to CA for grand daughter’s wedding in April.  Very disappointing. 

Jerry had a bout of laryngitis April which led to an ENT specialist treatment, injection to cure a bowed vocal cord.  During that, diagnostic scans revealed a suspicious spot on his upper left lung, almost under collar bone.  Antibiotics followed and all seemed well. He has some lung fibrosis which the pulmonary specialist has been watching for years. Even the Mayo Rochester specialists thought it was an infection, so we were relieved. 

along the hiking trail up Devil's Tower I
made the trek alone and was absolutely blown away 

In August we took a short motor home trip to an RV Rally in Spearfish, SD a wonderful area with many hiking opportunities.  But the altitude and the latent smoke from the Canadian wildfires bothered Jerry with shortness of breath, and coughing. So rather than proceeding on to Denver area as we planned we returned home.  We hope to return to the Spearfish area another time, there is a wonderful RV Resort there and so much to see.  Because Jerry was not feeling right he did not attempt the trail hike up the mountain and back down but waited for me at the Ranger station.  I was glad I did it, but as I said, want to return to the area.   The American Coach Association RV Rally was awesome and we were able to meet interesting fellow RV travelers and renew friendships.  

Just one of the views from the trail

End of September we flew to Arlington, VA for a gathering of my American World War II Orphans Network, ceremonies at Arlington and the WWII Memorial, banquets, and some sightseeing.  We were in DC during the Cavanaugh hearing protestors nonsense which interfered with a few plans.  

WWII Memorial DC, for my father and all the others, my AWON
siblings, we all lost our fathers in WWII

Mid October more diagnosis for Jerry, as Mayo persisted, ultimately led to consults with oncology, potential treatments and surgeon who recommended a lung biopsy. Extensive lab tests disclosed the spot was an elusive cancer that needed to come out.  The surgeon advised he was well and healthy enough for surgery, done November 7, took over 6 hours in 2 phases; removed all the cancer, confined to that sole nodule, upper left lung lobe, all lymph nodes were clear. His son Al flew here from CA for a couple days and surgery and back home day after. Jerry came home to recover Nov 13, my birthday, and had been healing ahead of expectation. He needs oxygen at times, though less now.  Most of his pain is tolerable, achiness from healing 2 ribs that were broken for the surgery as well as cutting through his back muscle and removing a rib. (I asked the surgeon what kind of person would be made from that rib?  He laughed and said, “that’s a good Catholic question!”). They recommended 3 follow up chemo treatments as a precaution lest there be an errant cell. It began December 18 then every 3 weeks. So far, his major bad after effect, extreme fatigue, depression, so his mid-day naps continue.  Oncology Dr believes he can handle it and has many good years yet ahead. (Update January 2019,,,he has decided to forego the remaining 2 chemo doses.  The first treatment  set him back on the healing path, caused him to lose weight and zapped him of energy and enthusiasm.  He declared that was not living but merely existing, and I know that was true.  After our conference with the Oncologist January 7  where she assured him that she could decrease the dose, eliminate the steroids that led to the bottom out chemo crash and she urged him to reconsider over this week.  But although I have tried to persuade him to try again, he is determined no more and will just proceed with healing.  It is not a simple choice, but one  that created ponderance, especially since there  is no evidence of cancer.  He just  cannot bring himself to go through another round of poisoning hell. )  We are fortunate to live here with Mayo care; lesser doctors would have missed this. December 7, he had a  severe spasm cough which ended up with severe rib pain and a trip to the ER.  There more tests to determine all was ok, healing ribs jolted a nerve near the fractures, would require him to take strong narcotic pain meds for a few days.  He’d been getting by with Tylenol.  Now off all stuff again. He is frustrated but I remind him to be thankful.

Here we were at a Czech restaurant in Prague,
November 2015

In November after another unpredictable medical emergency I lost my last closest high school friend from PA, Carlie with whom I'd gone to Europe for the Christmas markets, Danube river cruise, n 2015.  We did not get to PA this year.  She & I talked on the phone weekly and I teased her about ganging up on me with Jerry, told her I was going to come back and move her here and get a 2 for 1 discount at Mayo. She was hospitalized about the same time as Jerry, but hers was massive lung cancer throughout bronchials. No chemo nor surgery possible though she had 9 doses of radiation which did nothing for her.  She died a week before Thanksgiving.  She never married so she was the last of her family.  She was my last lifetime friend whom I could talk to any time.  I was and am heartsick. She was previously healthy and also not a smoker. I considered flying back there but with treacherous weather, flights, and all I had to handle here I did not; she would have understood.  Every day when Jerry was in the hospital, he asked about her. I miss her, she was the last long time link of my life someone I could talk to whenever about whatever. I have lost 3 of my dearest friends, never having had a sister they were my sisters.  Roberta back in CA so long ago, Sandy another CA just a few years back and now Carlie.  We have very few real friends in our lives and I was blessed with a trio, but now all gone. 

Days fly by with follow up doctor appointments, I am the driver.  I am learning to do most all the things, that he has always done other than what we hire like electrician and snow plowing.  During the first light snow dusting, I shoveled our driveway and front steps, took me 90 minutes with one break and a lecture from Jerry on how to do this.  Hah!  Had an electrician replace all the downstairs fluorescents in suspended ceiling with LED’s, previously Jerry had replaced some.  Looks good now all done although he grumbled that he could do it later, I figured just as well get it done and over. We look forward to spring.  I’m really busy but so long as we get good days of sunshine and I can get to the Y to work out life is almost a normal keel. By the end of the day I am done, I’ve never had insomnia and these days I hit the pillow and out. 

 I managed to tackle our 7-foot, artificial Christmas tree out of its box in the corner of the closet and assemble it., decorated it although it has all its own LED white lights so that is easy.  I like the light in these long winter dark days and might leave it up until February or March. When Jerry got up from that nap he could not believe I had done that, he said, “it’s bigger and weighs more than you.”  But I did it! (Update Jan 2019, now all is boxed up and put away, but Jerry had recovered enough to help with the disassembling of the tree back into its 3 parts and repacking it into the box, tying that box up and getting it back into the closet corner.) 

I am very late on sending cards, this was a year of challenges, confirming that aging is not for sissies.  

We are looking forward to spring.  Wishing a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.   "

So there it is,  the events that led to being suspended snowbirds, stuck northward another winter, cancelling all FL reservations.  Two weeks ago Jerry felt well enough to venture down the back to the motor home house to check on the rolling castle on wheels, all is good.  Ahead, the future, always ahead, do not look back, that never works well. 

Just in case later on someone is curious, posterity, too late?

Seldom blog, too old school and too much effort to sit and log in, etc, compared to Facebook where I can post, and share simultaneously with friends and family who are interested.  Too bad for those hold outs who just cannot get on board with social media, but their loss. Anyway I have been clearing out old photos, mostly left from Jerry's mother,  scanning a few, posting some to our Ancestry pages, and tossing.  I do offer them to extended family, cousins, etc,  but when they do not respond with interest, I toss the things.  I am not going to be the central repository for the ages, what for?  

One article I found was the newspaper clippings about the retirement of and the death of Dr. Reay, the LaCrosse doctor who delivered Jerry, my husband in 1937.  I always thought it odd that his mother would give him the middle name, Reay, after this doctor, but since we have lived here, I have learned that was quite a common practice in this region. Seems many were  given middle names for the doctor who delivered them.  

 In February a new restaurant, "David Reay's"  opened locally by a young man, successful restraunteer, Matt Boshcka.   I read the information with interest.  He named it David Reay's after a local philanthropist, grocer, businessman, Dave Skogen, founder of Festival Foods, well known around here and across Wisconsin. Dave Skogen's middle name is also Reay, after this same doctor who delivered him in a snowstorm.  Here is the link to the newspaper article about the restaurant 
 https://lacrossetribune.com/business/local/construction-to-begin-on-david-reay-s-restaurant-next-to/article_62e22e55-1abe-547f-96ff-98cdb987b6e4.html

 I sent a Matt a text via Facebook and he remarked that he just might have to have a gathering of middle named Reay's.  We have been to the restaurant which is quite modern, in Onalaska, good food, sports bar style and a bit noisier than we prefer while eating dinner.  But all Matt's restaurants do well, he has the touch and knows customers.  Here is a link to the restaurant, David Reay's https://davidreays.com/  

Jerry waiting for me at Viterbo University,
 to attend  a performance of the symphony

So back to Dr. Reay and why I am bothering to write this blog post, besides trying to keep the blog for posterity by writing maybe once or twice a year, well for one, someday someone in my husband's family might be interested.  Right now neither Jerry's adult children nor adult grands show the least bit of interest in any family history.  But maybe someday when we are gone they will wake up and realize there are many many things about their father and ancestry that they did not take time to learn about.  Maybe not, maybe it will be some very extended shirt tail cousin.  Who knows if this blog will even be around then, but here is just another place to share what I have  almost a year ago in Facebook, to responses from many.  Dr. George Reay retired in 1969 and then he and his wife moved to Scottsdale, AZ.  He passed away a year later, they had one daughter who lived in Omaha, NB.  Apparently he was highly regarded as a local doctor and coroner in La Crosse, WI and must have had a great sense of humor.  In the article about his retirement, due to failing health, he said how much he admired and learned from his father, also a physician,...."I have tried to pattern my life after his precepts as closely as I could."...."I close this medical chapter of my life and retire because of health.  It is not due to laziness because had I been lazy I would have become a specialist."  

So this is one interesting facet about my hubby and how he got his middle name.  His son thought he had the same middle name, but his is misspelled as Ray, not  the same and not keeping the tradition.  Still have to get with Matt and get that gathering of Reay's going. 

The path I chose made all the difference

My grandma, Baba Rose

In my drafts I found this I had written partially  back in 2012 after all my relatives had passed away.  Today clearing drafts I decided to tune it up and post it here.  Life does take its turns and yet if we have faith and can see thru, we can navigate those twisty windy roads and emerge onto the straight a-ways.  Hindsight is indeed more than 20 20 and if we could look into the effect our current decisions would have on our futures, would we be as rash?  Who knows.  So I am posting this pondering here and kind of a tribute in a way to my grandma Rose.  Today I wear her crystal cross necklace that she received as a young girl, how I wish I had more photos of her when she came to CA but we did not take many pictures then, the cost of developing film and all.  It was 1965. She was 70 at the time, and today I am 73, she looked so much older but most grandmas did back then. So anyway, here we go......
.
   I do not know if this blog site that I reference is in existence today and I have long ago lost touch with that person, but I keep it here for reference.  Rosaria, over at 65 Now What pondered  "What I did for Love" You can read it at her blog, http://sixtyfivewhatnow.blogspot.com/2012/04/what-i-did-for-love.html    . 

I  replied " As we journey through life when we pause to look back over our shoulders, the past changes shape. I have had many of the same thoughts you expressed here as we prepare to go to PA next week, my old home, not as far as Italy, but with no more family, some distant cousins who are off on their own lives. I joke that when I want to see my relatives, I go to the cemetery, but that is telling and chilling. But lately I find my mind meandering, oh what if I had not gone to CA, if I had stayed in PA. It is so true that the choices we make when we are young make our worlds different and our paths diverge. Hindsight....should'a's...oh my."

1958 PA me with Baba and two cousins visiting from CA
I was the big girl 

And it seems a mouthful.  Much good has come from my life that I was fortunate to be able to rebuild in CA. But even that I could not have done without the help of my late maternal grandma, Baba as I always called her,  Polish for grandma.  Finding myself a single mother in CA but employed, she was determined to help me. She road the train cross country to come stay with me and babysit while I worked and got some money set aside. I regret to this day that  I never thanked her enough, I could not have made it without her and when I pray for her soul I pray she knows how very dear she always was to me.  She really did  raise me as Mom was working, not common back then, but my Mom did.  

There were many reasons or justifications for my decision, most having to do with the impetuous rebellious nature or spell I felt at the time. I wished often that I could have talked with someone, my grandma, my Mom, my aunt somebody who could have rescued me from what would create the curvy twist on my life road.  At odds with my Mom, ours was a rough relationship through my adolescence, today I know she wanted better for me than what her life had been, but I so resented her.  To say we did not get along would put it mildly.  How much was my rebelliousness and how much was her innate ability to try to control me I will never resolve.  I only know that I had no intention of getting married to that guy, no intention of running off as I did, but I was so tired of Mom nagging and sneaking around finding out where I was, with whom, etc.  So to the surprise of everyone including myself as soon as the spell wore off, I eloped with him, impetuous rash dumb decision but at 18 I thought I was so smart,  Rocky road to be on, regretted it very soon, but I was young enough to think it could work and it would get me to CA,  destination of my dreams as a young gal growing up in western PA. 

One morning after arriving in CA,  I woke up across the country in CA with the man I could not stand, and thought, "What the hell am I doing here, I belong back on the Allegheny campus!"  But a stubborn soul who could not admit a wrong choice caused my perseverance and after all it was CA, the Golden State.  From that mistake,and after shedding him, I decided to stay out west where Jerry and I met and well here all these years down the road it has been a good thing.

But like Rosaria, I wonder about my family ties.  These become more important now or is it that I think more about that with the frequent trips to PA and the impending trip this coming week?  Sometimes we know it is not beneficial to entertain our own thoughts to an extreme--persevere and onward.  Somewhere in the Bible and literature those powerful themes recur.

Greenwood cemetery, PA where I visit all my family.

And when I say visit the cemetery I realize I am continuing a ritual from my ancestry; I remember going to the graves with my grandmother and her sisters.  It made not much sense to a child, but to me today long into adulthood it makes all the sense, a time to reconnect, reminisce and remember.  Remembering is important--just ask those who care for  the demented who have lost memories.