The Battle

Today is one of the many days throughout the year I wish I could sit down and ask questions of my Dad......

Pop was in the Army during WW2.  It must have been a horrible experience.  Kill or be killed.   Wounded in action eight times, he lost a kidney, had a metal plate in one leg and shrapnel wounds that pockmarked the right side of his jaw and neck.  

As a child I never thought to ask him about 'the war'.   It was in the history books I read and seemed far removed from my father.  It was impossible for me to put him into the battle scenes that sometimes ran through my head like a news reel as I read about it.

I knew he couldn't sleep in a dark room;  we always had a night-light in our bathroom that shown into my parents bedroom. He never watched war movies or TV shows about soldiers.  He would quietly leave the room or change the channel...I never gave it much thought.

Dad fought malaria all his adult life, depression, pain and "nerves".  Later in life he was treated in a veterans hospital where they tried to bridge the nerves in his body that no longer connected because of the wounds he had suffered.  The drugs they treated him with had terrible side effects, so for most of his life he lived in constant pain because that's how his body interpreted everything.  Stitched together like Frankenstein's monster,  Dad's muscles and nerves were now his enemy.

Only in the last months of his life did Dad talk to me at all about his experiences.  He seemed fragile, so I still didn't ask questions, but accepted what he wanted to share.  Eventually I came to understand how deeply wounded he had been, and I was amazed at the herculean effort everyday life must have been for him.  His battle continued all his life without the possibility of any peace treaty. 

Somehow my Dad came out of the war physically damaged, but with a kind and gentle soul that never met a stranger.  He was a loving husband and a good father.  I miss him every single day,

Memorial Day makes me curious about the years of Dad's life that I know little about.  I wish I had asked more, I wish I had interviewed him then just as I would any hero I might talk to today.  Dad would have enjoyed Heart of Ohio Magazine and the article I surely would have done about him.   He is, and always will be, my hero.   

                                            Life is Good

Anniversaries are for remembering

Today is one of those days in my life when I know exactly where I was and what I was doing; 48 years ago today I married my husband, Larry.

We were too young, too inexperienced, had no prospects, and we were too dumb to know all that.

I can look back over my shoulder at our life together; it reaches back far into the distance but I remember every step.  The birth of our three wonderful children is the highlight, no doubt about that.  But I also remember buying our first house, for which we paid the princely sum of seven thousand dollars.  I remember the awful task of learning to drive a stick shift when our first car turned out to be a VW Beetle, and I remember letting the air out of the tires and tearing through the woods in it, too.   Learning to cook was a very big deal; for the first year we survived on “concoctions” which consisted of a can of green beans, a can of Krey canned meat and a can of icky, cooked potatoes.  Heat all that up in a pot and you might wonder how we made it to our first anniversary.   Thankfully our Moms cooked a lot…….

Our first house had a red bedroom.  It boasted red walls, red carpet, red curtains and red bedspread…all things that came together to give it the ambiance of a house of ill repute.  It was my husband’s first (and last) decorating input after he learned the phrase “ever since I was a little boy I wanted” would cause me to do anything he asked.  After that red bedroom the phrase didn’t work nearly as well.

Friday evenings were always special.  That was grocery store shopping night and watching “The Wild, Wild West” after we put the cold stuff away.  If we had money left, it might also be a cheap spaghetti night at the old Boston Spaghetti House.  I am still searching for someone who has the recipe for their spaghetti sauce all these years later.  The spaghetti extravaganzas stopped when our son was born because the “extra money” had to go for formula….a change we never regretted.

Through the years my husband has supported me in every possible way; financially, physically, spiritually and emotionally.  There is nothing I could have done to earn his devotion, and there is nothing that would ever replace it.

So, today….May 15^th, 2013….I say thank you to my husband, Larry.  Thank you for loving me no matter what for 48 years.  Thank you for loving me through thick and thin, through pregnancies and menopause and job changes and good times and bad times.  Thank you for putting up with me when I had my head on straight and when it was truly cockeyed.  Thank you for tucking me into the car as if I am still precious to you today and opening jar lids and putting up with a yappy dog.    You are my hero.

 

                                                                

                                                        Life is Good

 

Digging in the Dirt

Digging around in the dirt is something I like to do……I have no particular talent for growing things, but I enjoy it anyway.

This year I am going to plant lavender.  I’ve just written an article for the July issue of Heart of Ohio about the DayBreak Lavender Farm in Strongsville and I am psyched to grow some of the gorgeous plants.  If you’re a fan check out their website or visit them….tell them Heart of Ohio sent you!

Actually two things put me on this planting binge.  On the way to Florida last February Larry and I stayed at a lovely little place named The Indigo Inn.  Not only is it charming, but the toiletries they provide in the rooms are a treat for the weary traveler.  Lathering up with the lavender soap, then slathering myself with lavender lotion I promised myself I would treat myself to this lovely scent every chance I get from here on out.  I have a bar of lavender soap in my shower at home now that is about the size of a paving brick….but it smells heavenly and I enjoy it every day!

After experiencing that wonderful soap I researched lavender and found DayBreak Lavender Farm; I immediately contacted them for an interview.  It was a pleasure to meet the owners and talk to them about their passion….lavender.  Did you know there is a lavender festival?   There is!  Did you know you can do almost anything with lavender, from creating syrups to drying it for floral arrangements?  Who knew?

Last week I visited a greenhouse and bought a flat of lavender; several varieties.  What I will be planting is English lavender; I am on the lookout for French lavender as well.  I won’t have acres of lavender growing like they do, but my hope is the guidance I found on the DayBreak website will serve me well.    The plants I purchased should provide a beautiful border around my flower beds for years to come.

I’m looking forward to combing soil and sand and lime to create a medium in which the beautiful lavender might flourish.   I know I’ll be swatting flies; sweaty, dirt streaked and sore by the time I’m done.    Gardening (and life in general) requires three things:  Do your research, gather the proper materials, do the hard work. 

I guess when you get right down to it that’s what life is all about.    We do the dirty work, and instead of thinking about callouses and the risk of failure, we simply sit down and optimistically wait for the scent of lavender to drift into the windows.    

                                                                  
                                                                             Life is Good