Monthly Archives: August 2015

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’VE GOT TIL IT’S GONE

(They paved paradise and put in a parking lot)

The following is an update to my post in October of 2011:

To all of my blog followers who may have been wondering ‘what’s new’ I apologize for not writing much throughout September. My significant other of 25 years passed away on September 22. He was not involved with my writing—and hardly knew a thing about computers—but I miss his presence. And if you’ve read the posts in my archive files, you would have found occasional references to Bob. Many of our projects over the decades were joint endeavors – when I canned jellies and jams, pickles and relishes, – it was Bob who hauled all of our entries to the Los Angeles County Fair. When we created a gingerbread house, he drew the blueprint for it–and together we put it together.

When we made sauerkraut, Bob was the person doing most of the shredding (I tend to cut my fingernails off).

And, I do have something new to write about; I went to Ohio for 6 days in 2011, to regroup amongst family and friends and a cousin gave me a cookbook that had belonged to our maternal grandmother, Barbara Beckman.

September 22 will mark the four year anniversary of Bob’s passing from this world to another where I often have one-way conversations with him—finding it remarkable that so often when I ask, aloud “Are you listening?” – something very apropos plays on the radio…there is a song about “Sandy” on the Fifties radio station and following it will be something else to remind me that he is listening. If you want to know if a loved one who has passed is really listening to whatever you have to say….then you have to really listen or pay attention to whatever is blooming in your yard or what birds are chirping –you have to be aware of your surroundings.

I always remember how a red cardinal bird appeared in our feeder exactly six months after my sister, Becky, passed away in 2004. I managed to take two photographs through our louvre windows before the red bird flew away; and I had the realization that it had been six months to the day that my sister passed away.

And I said aloud “now you really can fly!” – to the sister who always dreamed of flying and even took flying lessons at a small nearby airport in Cincinnati.

My sister passed away on October 10, 2004, late on a Sunday night. I had flown to Nashville and rented a car to get me to Castalian Springs; she suffered a great deal of pain and looked nothing like the older sister I loved so much. I believe Becky’s spirit hung around for a while after she died. For one thing, their house phone quit working. Becky’s husband angrily asked me if I was on their computer. I said no, I was nowhere near their computer. I called the telephone company on my cell phone the next day to report their telephone not working; they called back on Monday to say that they couldn’t find anything wrong with the telephone line. When one of my nephews arrived with his wife, I told my nephew and his wife about my experiences with their father, who became extremely hostile towards me after my sister passed away.

It would have cost me another $600 to fly back to California if I wanted to get another one-way ticket, so I waited it out. I think it was on Thursday that I accompanied my brother in law back to the funeral home to receive my sister’s ashes. One night I stood in the rain in their front yard, calling out to my sister. “Why did you wait for me to get here? I cried out, “You KNOW how your husband can be!”

I had begun sorting my sister’s clothing and other belongings when my brother in law insisted it would all end up in the dump. I called another nephew who lives in Cincinnati and he in turn called his youngest brother to tell him to get over there and help me with their mother’s clothing.

When I was finished, this youngest nephew and I took two carloads of Becky’s belongings to the Goodwill Store. I had sorted out nice pullover sweat shirts for her sons.

I think Becky held on as long as she did to life because she knew what her husband would do with her things.

When Becky chose to go home from the hospital to die, the doctors told her husband she would never last the week it took me to get a booked flight and make it to Nashville.

She did wait for me to get there. I think we are everlastingly bound in unity with our sisters or brothers, the people who have known us best in this life—the siblings we grew up with. Perhaps those ties also apply as well to parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents—as well as nieces and nephews. These are the ties that bind.

Thank you for your continued interest in Sandy’s Chatter.

–Sandra Lee Smith, August 9, 2015

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