Belated Thank You

Dear Bill,

It's been over 20 years and I don't think I ever properly thanked you for loading Dad into the car and escorting him from Michigan to Connecticut, via Cooperstown, for our wedding. This is one of my best memories of all time. I remember the two of you entering the mailroom at Cook's Magazine where I was "Mail Services Supervisor," a title I had been given in lieu of a raise in that one-man operation. (To be fair, they did put my name on the masthead for the few issues that remained. And I got a box of business cards. I could have used the raise but them business cards shore wuz purty.)

There had been some mix-up at the hotel and, even though the two of you had had a long drive, I remember Dad still beaming from his time at Cooperstown. You might have been a little more than tense, but didn't let it show; this weekend belonged to Mary and me and you were not going to let anything mar it, least of all trouble at a hotel. What went on behind the scenes you never mentioned but you got it all worked out because the three of us spent the night of Thursday, July 27, 1989 there. Not much of a bachelor party, but the thought of Mary being my wife in 24 hours or less was bachelor party enough for me. Back to Dad.

The time finally came when Debi and Edna, both from Cook's, had everything set up and people were beginning to mill about under the tree closest to the house in Mary's back yard. Just prior to this, I noticed Dad standing by himself and I went over to check on him. The only way Mary's youngest daughter, Sheila, was able to make it to the wedding and to a performance of a play she was in that night was to come in costume. The wonder that lit up his eyes and caused him to grin widely as he asked, "Who is that woman and what is she going to be doing here," was Sheila dressed for her part in "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum." She was cast as "Tintinabula, the belly dancer." Everyone was happy Sheila had found a way to make it to the wedding, especially Dad.

To be honest, I do not remember much of the rest of the evening, but I do remember this. Dad smiled pretty much the whole night. When Dad and Mary met for the first time it was love at first site for both of them. Whenever we would travel to Michigan, both their faces would light up and pretty much stayed that way for the duration of the visit. They simply enjoyed one another's company and could sit without speaking a word, quietly smiling at one another. The best ideas for Dad's birthday and Christmas presents always came from Mary. She came up with the idea for the diorama of the farm, including that piece of wood from the actual barn itself. She did the design and construction. It was Mary who conceived and carried out the planning for Dad's birthday party in Missouri, coordinating cabin rentals at Lake Wappapello, catering at the Hickory Log in Dexter, rooms for at least one night in Bloomfield. It also was Mary who despite the offerings made by people, could not possibly eat a thing at the Hickory Log or, for that matter, anywhere else, due to the chemo-induced sores that covered the inside of her mouth. This sounds like a lot of praise for Mary when the point here is supposed to be Dad. Well, it is what it is supposed to be. The things that she did, the effort she put forth were the result of a love Dad inspired in Mary and for her, love was as much a verb as it was a noun.

They both are gone from the physical world now, but it is no exaggeration to say they are in my thoughts every day. Even when I abandon all thought of what is best for me, they are there, watching. When I am trying to see through the fog to get back on the right track, they are there, helping to guide the way one more time. When I am doing as well as can be expected, they smile and give me a push. When I am doing better than that, they are inclined to kick me in the lower posterior and tell me I can go further.

That's about it for now. The calendar says spring is not that far off. The calendar can say what it pleases; when the temperature fails to get any lower than 75 degrees, it will be decent enough to go outside. But the 17th of April, the third Saturday of the month is not all that far off - about 71 days, I think - and that is opening day for fishing season here. Time to get my license as soon as I can.