My Life Blog

They met at a small-town dance, I believe. He was from across town and they were both as young as they could be. I’m not sure what it was, perhaps her blue eyes or perhaps her good heart, but something drew him to her.

And it kept bringing him to her. Though from across town, he’d find a way to go see her. Whether hitching a ride with a friend or later using his own car, he’d venture across town to see this one of a kind woman. And eventually, they were as close as they could be, for they later were married.

That might not sound like much, but these were the 30s and times were tough. The Depression was fresh in everyone’s mind and no one was really doing particularly well. But somehow through all the financial struggles and challenges otherwise, they found their own riches…they found each other. And they stayed together from the day they married.

In 1940, Linda (my mother) was born. At that time, Hitler was on the move in Europe and it was an unsure time all across the world. Being a true patriot, he shipped out overseas to join the cause for freedom. He was often gone for months at a time. But she kept things together; supporting Linda and awaiting his return.

After one particularly long tour, she wrote personally to the CO appealing for her husband to be stationed somewhere where the family could go with him. For that loving indiscretion, he was rewarded with an assignment to the Aleutian Islands — by himself. For those unfamiliar with those islands, they are quite inhospitable. He used to say, “there was a pretty girl behind every tree, trouble was, there weren’t any trees.” And so it went until the war was settled and a little bit beyond.

After the war, they had many good years and Linda had two children: David and me. They loved and cared for their grandchildren — spoiled them too. She would make Snickerdoodle cookies and pack them in coffee cans with labels for each of us. She would teach us about plants; gardening was a passion of hers. Her husband even built her a greenhouse to support her passion.

She wasn’t much of a driver, though. One day in the early 70s, he complained of chest pains and it was decided that he needed to get to the hospital. So they packed into the car with me in the back seat. But as she caromed off curbs and ran lights, apparently the fear of dying of a heart attack was less immediate than dying from a car accident. And so he drove himself to the hospital.

But all was well thereafter and life continued happily for another 15 years or so. The grandchildren were growing up; I was going to college.

Then he started showing signs of Alzheimer’s. At first, the signs were minimal, but soon he was doing odd things, and eventually needed additional help. But she was there every step of the way — daily by his side. It was uncommon devotion, in my opinion. And this devotion continued for another many years before he finally succumbed to the disease.

But she was a strong woman — she didn’t just give up after her husband of 50+ years passed away. She had a busier life than many people. And so it went until she herself had a stroke which robbed her of her short-term memory. She improved briefly, but eventually plateaued into a state where she could not care for herself or recognize those who were around her. Effectively, her life was ending just as her husband’s had ended years before. And yet, somehow she lived far longer than most thought she would.

But today at 5am, with her caretaker Evelyn by her side getting her a glass of water, she coughed one last time and then peacefully quit breathing. And now the two are together once again.

Her name was Pansy — she was named after a flower. She never liked that name and she definitely didn’t like it when we named her Granny Panny one weekend when we were making fun of her. But she knew it was an affectionate name and she knew how much we loved her.

Though I haven’t read the book “Five People You Meet In Heaven” and I’m not completely sure the premise, I’d like to think she was one of the five most influential and cherished people in my life.

May she rest in peace…