TheBanyanTree: Beginning of Year Two

[Margaret R. Kramer]

8/15/05
Hi Love:
  There was two more brochures gone, I sure hope someone comes and at least
looks. When you get done with your stuff, we will have to look into getting
some else to list with. Helen is NOT doing her job. She should at least have
an open house to show US that she is doing something. 
   Bob at work is having trouble with his garage door opening right. I think
that on Thursday when I get out of work I will go to his hose and look at it
for him. Sounds like it is off the track. 
 Well, love Got to let the goofy dogs in and finish my mail, so I will say
LOVE you and close for now. Looking forward to your phone call. 
Ray & Geo.

The first passing of Ray's death day turned out to be a preview of what
spring could really be if it was ready to show-up.  It was warm and the snow
we had from last Saturday was melting.  I drove to the cemetery from work,
it's not too far.  I always cry when I drive into the cemetery and see all
those white headstones.  Each of those headstones represents a story, a
past, someone who was loved, and now missed.

Ray is in the newer part of the cemetery where they're digging up graves and
burying people at a fever pace.  Ray's acquired many new neighbors in the
short year he's been a resident of Fort Snelling.  Knowing Ray, he's
introduced himself to everyone.

I saw a small burial service in progress while I was driving to Ray's grave.
I could see the urn sitting on top of the platform and just four people
around it.  Other than those people and the maintenance guys, it was just me
in the cemetery.

I always go on weekends, and there are usually people around, so it's weird
to have the cemetery to myself.  I was on a mission this day, a break from
work, so I couldn't stop and take in the empty place, I had to honor Ray on
the first anniversary of his death. 

I parked the car.  Even though the snow was melting, there was a good deal
of snow where Ray is.  I still had to trudge through the snow to get to him.
There was a set of footprints leading to another grave, so I followed them.

I always call out to him when I see his stone.  I hug it and kiss it and cry
and tell him that I love him and miss him.  I added some flowers and read
him a poem.  Oh, I miss him so much.  It's so hard to describe.

After a while, I calm down, and then I kiss the stone one more time and I
leave.

I always drive by where Joe's wife is buried.  She's in a columbarium.  This
time, I stopped, and got out of the car, and took pictures of the small
cement structures.  They're filling up fast, too.  I don't like them,
because if you leave flowers or something, you can only put them at the
bottom and if your person is in the top row, you don't know who the flowers
belong to.  

Plus, for me, the most important thing, your ashes aren't absorbed by the
ground.  They're in those urns forever.  I buried Ray in a cheap,
biodegradable urn, and I'll be buried in one, too, so our ashes will mingle
together and return to the earth.

At this time, if someone told me I had a terminal illness, I would not try
to prolong my life.  I'd ask the doctor what would be the treatment that
would cause the least amount pain, and hopefully, make my exit quietly.  I'd
want to join Ray as quickly as I could.  I'm happy most of the time and can
laugh and appreciate my life as it is, but the deep inner joy is gone.  The
luster and the beauty that was once me doesn't exist without Ray.  That's
the way I feel as I enter year two.

My Volkswagen had to make its self known this week.  The "check engine"
light had been on for a week and a half.  Well, it turned out I needed a air
flow sensor, an oxygen flow sensor, a clamp, and a new vacuum hose.  The
grand total was $936.  Whew!  Oh, and I got an oil change, too.  The car
runs great now.  It was running a bit rough and using more gas than it
should, but now that it's been fixed, it just sails along on the road.

And sailing was needed this week as we had a major winter storm which dumped
about eight inches of snow in a very short period of time.  Our street runs
parallel to the freeway and it was a bumper to bumper parade outside our
living room windows during rush hour.  The snow came down so quickly that
the plows didn't have a chance to get it off the roads fast enough.

The freeway was a parking lot, so people were using our road.
Unfortunately, our road has a very steep hill about a half mile from my
house and cars couldn't get up the steep slippery hill.  My son told me that
neighbors from around there were helping pushing cars up the hill.

My survey job gave us the night off.  So I watched my 20 something neighbors
have a major panic breakdown because of the snow piling up in their
driveway.

I don't know how to describe them.  They're not rude or destructive, they're
not urban, you can tell they're very middle class.  And you can tell that
this might be the first time they've lived away from home.  They just have
big Is on their heads for IDIOTS.  It's like watching a comedy as they try
to grapple with life's hardships, such as shoveling snow.

Asher and I think they're from the suburbs and mommy and daddy have probably
done everything for them.  They're incredibly, which is interesting to watch
how they try to avoid any type of physical labor.  I believe they must have
not had chores to do when they were kids or something.  They're all thin,
but watching them shovel snow is like watching old men - they're very out of
shape, because all they do is drink, and watch TV with drool  coming out of
their mouths.  They have nice cars and appear to work very part time, which
is hardly at all.  I don't think they're going to school.  They spend most
days and nights drinking themselves into oblivion.

The landlord, who happens to be my mortgage broker and Ray worked with him
on that house, rented the house to three people, but there are at least six
people living there.  I've discussed it with him, but I'm sure as long as
he's getting the rent every month and the house isn't burning down, he isn't
going to do much about it.

These 20 somethings really don't do much, besides hog up the driveway with
all their cars, but they are inconsiderate.  They park over the public
sidewalk.  They throw their beer bottles in the driveway.  They don't shovel
their snow.

Until this week, because I complained to their landlord about it  . . . the
snowstorm had them in a major panic.  I think it's because they always get
stuck in the driveway.  Remember, they have big Is on their foreheads.  And
I did call them "fuckin' idiots" the other day.  We use the same driveway,
it's a combo driveway, but Asher, Joe, and I have never been stuck.  They
always get stuck, usually at the street end, where the snow isn't cleared as
well from the snow plow coming through.

Of course, when they tried to move their cars during the worst part of the
storm into the street, they got stuck.  Then they shoveled the snow with
their feet.  They're wearing no hats, no gloves, no boots, or warm jackets.
I stood at the back door and watched them while they frantically shoveled
and pushed the snow with their feet.  They finally got their cars unstuck
and moved them back into the half assed shoveled driveway.

I can't stand them and will stop at nothing to get them out of that house,
but Asher reminded me about Ray.  Ray would have made friends with them.  He
would have helped the guy when his battery in his car went out and he left
his undrivable car half in and half out of their garage for two weeks.  I
don't think he would have helped them shovel snow, but he would have blowed
off their part of the driveway.

Asher said to be nice to them and they'll be nice to me.  Well, sometimes if
you're nice to people, they take advantage of it, and I think these guys
(and women, there are two of them) would do that.  My biggest fear is that
it will be party central starting with the first warm night of the spring
and I'll have people peeing on my lawn, puking in my driveway, and since
some people can't handle their booze, fights.  That's what I'm trying to
prevent.

I told their landlord I will call the police if I hear any noise (like party
noises) after 11:00 pm.  I know the guy on the other side of them is not
enamored of them either, so I expect he'll do the same.

Why their landlord rented to them is beyond me, since this is a very quiet
neighborhood with mostly homeowners.  But I suspect these people are
children of friends of his, that's why he's not coming down on them.

It's frustrating for me, because I can't do much about them other than what
I've done.  I can make a complaint to the city if there is public
inebriation, which is sure to happen this spring and summer.  I just have to
be patient and wait.

So, other than my car expenses, the winter storm, and my idiot 20 something
neighbors, my first anniversary as a widow was pretty quiet.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net
margaret.kramer at polarispublications.com
www.polarispublications.com

Love is a symbol of eternity.  It wipes out all sense of time, destroying
all memory of a beginning and all fear of an end.
-Author Unknown