Showing posts with label Mardi Graves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mardi Graves. Show all posts

Monday, December 30, 2013

On This Date in 1998


Dear Barb,

This note will probably arrive in Warren the same time we do. We’ll be pulling into my parents’ driveway sometime during the early evening of the 26th. Our present location is Two Rivers, Wisconsin, where we are enjoying the company of most of the Richard family. Only Larry, who will be retiring in February after 20 years of service in the Navy, wasn’t able to make the trip.

This vacation is unusual in that we aren’t staying in our usual locations. In the past we’ve always stayed with Larry and Alice but this time we’ve checked into the Cindy Richard bed and breakfast in Manitowoc, just a few miles down the highway along Lake Michigan. In Warren, we’ll stay at Larry and Kim’s cabin on Valentine Run.

Earlier this year, I decided to subscribe to the Times Observer. I’ve been able to read about the ongoing library controversy, news which makes me so thankful that Middleton is so supportive of its library. I’m tempted to write a letter to the editor encouraging voters to dump their county commissioners. Those guys are a sequel to a movie: Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest. I always scan the obituaries. At least two dozen of my high school classmates have lost a parent this year. A number of my paper route customers have also passed on. The letters to the editor always seem to be printed in full. Occasionally I see a familiar face in a photograph: Mike Curren, Lynn Nobles, Andy Yurick.

I missed my high school reunion this year due to Andy’s very busy baseball schedule (both league and tournament play), but Rick Dies sent me an unsolicited copy of the booklet that the planning committee published. I’m surprised at how many people still living in the Warren. How come I never run into anyone ? Maybe I do but I don’t recognize them!

I received a birthday card from Mardi but her brief note gave me no idea of what is going on in her life. I take it she’s still with Rocky? I hope we can all get together next week and catch up on the details of our lives.

Friday, December 27, 2013

On This Date in 1998


Dear Mardi,

Thanks for remembering my birthday, as you always do.  You make me feel like such a derelict.   Your birthday’s in March, right?  The 5th?  Am I close?  Anyway, next year I expect a big card for a very big event.  Can I say “50”?  Probably not without some  pained effort.

The boys and I made two trips to Warren this year, but no one outside of my family knew about it since I curiously and intentionally didn’t tell anyone else beforehand or contact anyone after our arrival.  Our visit in March was relatively short.  Four days, I think.   Most of my daylight hours were spent walking back and forth between my parents’ house and Beaty Field or the house and Jefferson schoolyard.  I was in constant demand to play basketball or catch.   On the way back to Wisconsin, we stopped in Chicago for two days, stayed at an expensive Lake Shore Drive hotel, and took in the sights.  Mostly museums, plus a trip to the top of the Hancock building, which absolutely fascinated the boys.  JoAnna stayed home as she was coordinating a special senate election and temporarily had no life outside of work.

In early August, a week after our high school reunion, we spent seven days in Warren, staying at Larry and Kim’s cabin on Valentine Run.  What an idyllic setting.  I just tuned out the world and focused on family and the 700-page book I was reading.  The boys and I did spend two day at Kinzua Beach, remembering to bring footwear the second day.    If I had called you, we could have traveled to Renee’s bat mitzvah together.  When JoAnna decided she couldn’t make the trip – gearing up for the general elections this time – I still considered making the trip to Lorain.  Once I settled into Warren, though, I told myself, I’m not driving anywhere until it’s time to return to Wisconsin.  Driving is not the joy it used to be.  And the boys aren’t to blame.  They are actually very good travelers.  Anyway, give me a big kick in the seat of the pants for missing this opportunity.  I have yet to apologize to Renee because I still feel like such an idiot, just like I did in 1970 when I missed her wedding.

I think part of my attitude of Warren aloofness has to do with our family situation.  Parkinson’s Disease keeps eating away at Dad’s physical and mental well-being.  The decline over the past couple years has been especially painful to observe, even from a distance of 700 miles.  Dad has great difficulty getting around on his own.  In fact, earlier this year the kitchen nook was transformed into a sleeping area for him.  He can’t negotiate stairs anymore.  During the day, he spends most of his time in a motorized upholstered chair, one that provides mechanical assistance in sitting down and getting up.  He’s almost always in a dozing position.  He gets easily confused; his mind, during moments of what now for him passes as lucidness, focuses on past events.  Last year during our December visit, he shuffled across the kitchen floor, stopped abruptly, and said, “I have to preach tomorrow at First Lutheran.”  Or he’ll talk about Mom in the third person and refer to some event that took place early in their marriage as if it were yesterday.  I’ve been meaning to read more about the debilitating effects of Parkinson’s, mostly to get a better understanding of how it affects the mind, especially in the later stages of the disease, which I suppose is where my dad must be by now.  It was 1990 when the first, very subtle , changes in his physical bearing became noticeable.  What really bugs me though is how little support Mom gets from the rest of her children.  I wanted to take her and the boys out to lunch, but Barb couldn’t be bothered to stay home and keep an eye on Dad.  There’s no way he can be left alone now.

Hey, great Christmas letter, huh?  Really upbeat.

Sorry about this self-indulgent rambling.

We’ll be in Warren from December 26th (the evening) through New Year’s Eve.  In fact, you and your mom are already aware of our upcoming visit.  (Yolanda probably, said, “If he’s not going to call me, I’ll call that runt myself!”  Again, the cabin will be our base of operations.  I will call this time, and when we get together, you can administer the appropriate punishment.
 

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