TheBanyanTree: Driven

[Margaret R. Kramer]

Just when the grass was showing and it was getting a tad warmer, nature
played a cruel joke and dumped a bunch of wet, heavy snow on us during the
early morning hours on Wednesday.  We were so close to getting to spring!

After the dumping, then it got cold, and the snow is frozen solid, only
melting when it gets hit directly by the sun’s strong March rays.

However, I’m thanking the weather gods for the cold weather, because my
refrigerator died after a long and lingering illness on Monday, and most of
my food is now stored in coolers among ice cubes on the deck.  The cold air
helps keep everything from spoiling.

Joe bought dry ice for the fridge.  The dry ice keeps the fridge cool almost
at real fridge temps.

I ordered a new fridge and it will be delivered Monday afternoon.  So just
like spring, it’s almost here.

This is a funny time of year.  I really want to spend time outside, but
because it’s still kind of winter, I stay inside and I’m so tired of being
inside.  

I felt a pull to get out of the house this afternoon and drive by our old
house.  Someone finally bought the foreclosed place.  They’ve painted it
brown, took down Ray’s heart shutters and put up manufactured ones in their
place, and put in new windows.  There were two trucks in the driveway, so
I’m hoping someone really does live there now.

The neighborhood looks pretty much the same, although I didn’t feel
comfortable stopping and examining each house.  Actually, the neighborhood
looks better than it did last summer.  There are two houses that are vacant.
One on each side of my old house – must be something about being in the
middle of the cul de sac.

When I was driving on the freeway towards the house, I imagined all the
times Ray and I made that same trip from St Paul and the times Ray made it
alone.  I wondered what he thought about as he made that drive.

After he came to live with me, Ray would deliberately drive around and get
lost.  Then he’d find the short cuts.  He knew the Twin Cities area better
than I did, and I’m a native!

I drove up to our street, made the turns, and it was almost like Ray was in
the car with me.  I have no attachment to that house as a house, I love my
current house much more, but I am attached to it as a place of memories.
Ray put a lot of himself into that house and there’s a sense of him still
lingering there.  Maybe that’s what I wanted to find and experience today.

I then drove to the suburb of Woodbury, driving the short cut that Ray
showed me so many years ago.  I drove by the stores where we shopped and
remembered the times we went together.  We enjoyed shopping together,
because we were together.

I drove back to St Paul and stopped by Joe’s apartment.  Then he drove us
out to the cemetery.  Not many people were there, just one car that we could
see.

I got out of Joe’s car and walked towards Ray so I could visit just for a
few moments with that special man.  Oh, do I miss him!  And some days it’s
so painful to be without him, even after three years. 

But here I am.  And it’s almost spring.  Almost.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net
www.linkedin.com/in/margaretkramer

Yoga is the practice of quieting the mind.       
-Patanjali