March 31, 2006

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  It’s Springtime 2006 and I’m trying to think about....

      -The bright yellow daffodils planted by Lin’s Grandmother Lula so many years ago that continue to bloom gloriously and in abundance. I’ve been going out  every day and encouraging them along.
  
      -The ever-growing burn pile. I must take a day soon and collect the winter’s dead branches and watch for an unwindy day to burn them.  Last years’ dried asparagus fern can be added to the pile, too.....pretty soon there will be so much fresh asparagus that I’ll be delivering it to everyone I know.
  
      -Finding something to plant along the strip between the sidewalk and the house where the sun beats down so hot in summer.  Maybe Creeping Phlox.
  
      -Whether I should order some of that Focus Factor stuff they are hawking on TV.  Then maybe I would actually finish my taxes, started two months ago.

      -How Sadie the Sheltie needs to be bathed and groomed. A job and a half.
  
      -Shedding Season is here for dogs & cat, and the multitudes of  boofs & tumbleweeds of hair that’ll soon be rolling across the floor.....an overworked vacuum sweeper and stocking up on sweeper bags that can only be found in a faraway store.
  
      -Open windows and breezes that smell so deliciously fresh.
      

  It’s Springtime 2006 and I’m trying not to think Springtime 2005. Without very much success.

      Fall is my favorite time of year, but Lin always loved the springtime best. I said spring meant sneezing and that hot, icky weather was coming. He said spring made him think of new beginnings, planting vegetables and flowers and being outdoors working on this land that was his very heartbeat.  But then he also told me that he’d known since childhood that when he died it would be springtime. He didn’t know HOW he knew; he just knew.  I chattered back flippantly, “How morbid can you get?  Just make sure you live longer than me....I don’t want to be left behind.  And besides, my birthday is in April! So if you’re going in the spring, don’t even THINK of going first....it would not be a good birthday present at all.”  He laughed and said, “Well, okay. I promise not to die in April.”  I couldn’t get him to promise to let me die first, but it wasn’t really a big concern. We had years and years ahead of us to laugh, live and love.
  
      But this time last year, we both knew Lin would be leaving soon. I remember how tired he was. The strong and energetic man of so many accomplishments who had never been still for longer than a few minutes at a time was taking frequent naps throughout the days now.
  
      I remember never crying in front of him and wondering how I was managing that. Sheer determination? Divine intervention maybe? Who knows. 
  
      I remember waking up every morning and feeling gratitude beyond words for just one more day together.
  
      I remember that he never lost his sense of humor. 
  
      I remember wordlessly taking over various tasks and chores, one by one, as he became weaker. 
  
      I remember him putting his arms around me and his voice in my ear saying, “I love you...I love you...I love you.”  As if he was afraid that I didn’t already know.
  
      I remember my friends coming to the house with carloads of Pansies -- Lin’s favorite flower -- that they planted out by the porch.  He was amazed and ever so delighted...and the smile on his that day face lit up the whole world. 
  
      I remember wishing a thousand times and more that I could make the ultimate bargain with whomever is in charge of such things and trade my life for Lin’s.
  
      I remember being an emotional disaster inside while presenting a cool, calm exterior facade for his mother, his children, and my children. OUR children. Our friends.
  
      I remember determinedly staying busy, busy, busy while he napped, but I don’t remember how I did that or even what I was doing.
  
      I remember Buster Kitty staying close to Lin at all times...purring and ”playing the piano” on Lin’s arm while he napped as if all that kitty love would make his friend well again.
  
      Lindsey didn’t die in April. We celebrated my birthday on the 16th and our wedding anniversary on the 22nd together -- just the two of us here at home. He felt horrible of course, but he lied and pretended that he felt good. And I pretended that I didn’t know he was faking it. 
  
      By early May, we knew with certainty that we didn’t have much longer together. We said our goodbyes, we talked about how things would be when he was gone. We talked about things I will never write about or say out loud again. We talked endlessly about our hopes and dreams for our kids and grand kids, too....but not about the hopes and dreams we’d had of growing old together. Not any more. He left me behind on May 15. It was springtime, but it wasn’t April . Lindsey kept his promise to me, as always. 
  
      At present, I’m not half as flippant as I used to be. And I don’t laugh quite as easily these days. But fall is still my favorite time of year.
  
     

  • 1:46 pm
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