Saying Goodbye to My Sister

 My only sister Kathy died very unexpectedly of a massive heart attack on September 11th. She was only 76 - much too young to die. While I deeply regret that she was taken from us at such an early age, I will be forever grateful that as far as we know she did not suffer. 

There was no question regarding whether or not we would attend the funeral, COVID or no COVID. Jim and I drove from Mount Holly as far as Paducah, KY on September 15th. There we spent the night at my request. Kathy and I had always talked about going there to see the National Quilt Museum as quilting was a hobby we both shared. On the morning of September 16th, Jim and I went through the museum in Kathy's memory. How she would have loved to see the vast variety of quilting styles! While totally different from the way that she and I quilted, they were works of art to behold.

National Quilt Museum

The next morning we drove the last four hours to St. Louis. Of course we had to drive by our old house and check it out. It looks like the new owners are taking good care of it, though the large oak tree on the north side of the house has died of old age. That will be expensive to remove, and we were thankful that it wasn't an expense we would have to undertake. Then we went to our old grocery store to pick up provisions for a few days. I rented a two flat house in the south city area for our family of six adults. Our kids were coming into town that night, and my niece Sara flew in from Texas in the afternoon. I wanted all of us in the same spot so we could spend time together. It ended up working out very well as each flat had two bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen and living room.

Thursday the funeral home held a viewing for the family from 9-10 and then for friends from 10-12:30, with the funeral following at Immaculate Conception Catholic Church at 1:00. Up to that point, Kathy's death had seemed surreal. All that changed when faced with seeing her in a coffin. It was so hard to experience the grief of her husband and children while at the same time trying to get a handle on my own. I know our kids struggled as well since Kathy had been way more than an aunt to her. Our own mother died when Andy was only 4, so Kathy became a surrogate grandmother to him and later on to Katie as well.

The funeral was very personal as the priest knew Kathy well due to her attendance at Mass (even virtually when COVID hit) as well as her participation in the Daughters of Isabella (D of I) at the parish. Nearly everyone wore a mask in church, as they had in the funeral home, and we were spaced out in every other pew. Following the service the D of I ladies held a luncheon for the family in the Knights of Columbus hall. My sister was to be buried at Jefferson Barracks Cemetery since her husband had served in the Navy. But cemetery regulations right now are not allowing any graveside services, so we went back to the AirBNB after the luncheon. Several family members came over later, and we played a rousing game of Yahtzee in Kathy's memory. It was her favorite game, and she nearly always was the winner. It seemed a fitting end to a day filled with grief, tears, laughter and shared memories.

Kathy & me

Funeral for (More Than) a Friend

Holiday Inn Express

We are back home from laying my mother-in-law to rest. We broke up the 17 hour drive on the way up June 24th by spending the night in Urbana, IL. While it was troubling to use the highway rest stops and gas stations due to COVID and the laissez-faire attitude many seem to have, we felt quite comfortable at the Holiday Inn Express. Masks and social distancing were in place, and the room was spotless. While they cannot do their included hot breakfast at the moment, they had "Grab and Go" bags available to take back to our room. The contents of the bag were skimpy, but at least we had something to start our morning.

Before we reached Charles City we stopped in Nashua, IA at mom's favorite ice cream shop, Dairy Treat. We each got a cone in honor of mom.

Dairy Treat

Walking into my father and mother-in-law's house for the first time since their deaths was really hard. We always went in through the side door, which is adjacent to the family room. They spent most of their time in that room, so we were always greeted by them sitting in their chairs. For the first time in the 34 years they have lived in this particular house, no one was there to welcome us. It was the first of many sad moments for us.

On Friday our kids flew in from their respective parts of the country. They stayed at a local hotel, which gave us plenty of social distancing in the house. Saturday was the memorial service at the funeral home. We purposefully limited the number of people to immediate family, with the exception of a dear, long-time neighbor. We were able to space out nicely in the room. John from the funeral home sang a few songs (he belongs to their church and is in the choir), and Sister Diana from the church did the readings. She knew Jerry and Lorraine well, so the service was very personalized. Our daughter read a poem that Lorraine had written years ago. It was beautiful, and I knew that I would not be able to get through it should I try. Lorraine was a prolific letter writer, but I had no idea she had poetry in her arsenal as well.

Don't cry for me
I'm not alone
the angels came and took me home
Hello Mother
Hello Dad
They're the best friends I ever had
There's John, Bernie and Joe
Tell me where I'm supposed to go
Then a loud voice called out and said
My dear child don't be late,
did you forget we had this date
Then him and I walked hand in hand
to the garden gate
Goodbye, family
Goodbye, friends
This is the beginning and not the end.
                              ~Lorraine Wolterman

Memorial Service

After the service we went to a restaurant along the river and had a late lunch. We were able to sit outside at two separate tables, though no one who worked there was wearing a mask. It is so disheartening. That evening we went to our niece and nephew's farm for dinner and to watch their fireworks. It was a nice way to wind down following the stress of the day.

On Sunday we spent the day going through the house, allowing family members the opportunity to pick a few things they would like to have as mementos of mom and dad. Monday was the graveside memorial service in Fairfax, MN which is about 3 hours north of Charles City. We drove through a horrific rainstorm on the way there, and I was afraid the service would be canceled. But mom must have pulled some strings up above, because it cleared up enough to get things done. Some cousins put together a small luncheon in the local park, which was very nice of them to do.

graveside memorial

Andy and Megan left from the park to go to the airport to fly home. Jim, Katie and I drove to Waconia, MN where we spent the night with Jim's cousin and her husband. Katie flew home the next morning, and Jim and I were able to get a quick visit in with friends in Minneapolis before driving back to Charles City. Much more work awaited us there.

Losing My Other Mother

This morning at 3:30 a.m. Central Time, my mother-in-law passed away. It is nearly 2 months to the day when my father-in-law died. The incredible heartbreak of losing both parents so close together is indescribable. As I mentioned when Jerry died, they have been a part of my life since I was 19 years old. They treated me not as a daughter-in-law but as an additional daughter. I felt the same about them. They were not in-laws - just mom and dad. I was incredibly blessed to have two great sets of parents in my life.

COVID still runs rampant in our country, but the rules for indoor gatherings have loosened a bit. I believe we could have up to 50 people at her funeral, though we do not intend to do so. Unlike with dad two months ago, Jim and I are planning to drive to Iowa for the service, and then up to Minnesota for the graveside blessing. The fact that we were unable to do that for dad has been eating at Jim. So we will take every precaution that we can to try to be safe while at the same time honoring mom and bringing some closure to these two deaths.

As we were awake very early this morning, we noticed the beginning of the new day. The sky looked promising, so we walked the short distance to Sunflowers Point by our house. We believe this beautiful sunrise was mom and dad's way of letting us know that they were reunited, they were okay, and that they will be watching over us.

RIP, mom. Thank you for making me one of your own, and setting a great example of what a loving wife and mother is all about. You are forever imprinted on my heart.

sunrise on Mountain Island Lake

North Carolina Reopening Phase 1

As of 5:00 p.m. yesterday, the first phase of a three part reopening plan of North Carolina Governor Roy Cooper went into effect. In essence, the stay-at-home order has been modified to allow more businesses to reopen and residents to take more nonessential trips. However, public schools and nonessential business such as hair salons, entertainment venues and gyms must remain closed. We are to follow social distancing rules when out, and those who can work from home are urged to continue to do so. Businesses that do reopen must maintain strict cleaning routines and limit the number of people allowed inside the stores or buildings. Restaurants and bars can still only do drive-thru, carryouts or deliveries.

Let there be toilet paper!

To date over 14,000 people have tested positive for the virus in North Carolina, and 530 have died. Health officials will be watching the numbers carefully to see if lifting some restrictions causes an influx of new cases. If things remain steady, it is predicted that Phase 2 will roll out on May 22nd. It can be hoped that things might begin to return to normal in the stores. For example, on Thursday for the first time since the end of February I actually saw toilet paper on the shelves of our local grocery store. There was still no hand sanitizer, antibacterial soap or wipes, or yeast however. The hoarders are still hoarding. They are saying a meat shortage will be next as several of the large meat packing plants have been closed due to an outbreak of the virus. That's all they need to do is mention it - it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Our plan is to maintain the status quo. I am no safer to go out on May 8th than I was on May 7th. We are not interested in putting ourselves at risk beyond purchasing groceries and other essentials. From the new rules, our facilities here at Imagery will not be allowed to open during Phase 1, though I suppose they could allow pickleball and tennis as those are outdoors.

A friend of mine poses a question on Facebook each day for us to think about. Today's was what new word or expression has come out of this virus? Her response was maskne - the acne that arises from wearing a mask. My favorite was covidiot - a person who disregards the seriousness of the coronavirus. My contribution was zoomeral - attending a funeral via zoom. I'm still trying to come up with a better word than surreal. It's just not strong enough.

In the meantime, I like to think that this is a sign that dad has sent this beautiful bird to watch over us.

beautiful cardinal

Cemetery Streaming

Jerry's casket

My father and mother-in-law purchased a family plot at St. Andrew's Cemetery in Fairfax, Minnesota decades ago. Many of their relatives are buried there as well. It was their wish to have a funeral in Charles City, Iowa and the burial four hours away in Fairfax. We always joked with them that they better not die in the winter as no one would be able to make that drive.

As it turns out, even though dad died during beautiful weather, we couldn't make the drive anyway. With COVID-19 keeping the country on lockdown, we decided to have a virtual graveside service. On Thursday a cousin who was able to attend because she lives in the area used her phone as the conduit for the rest of us to virtually attend through the internet program Zoom. Those of us who were remote were able to see the handful of relatives who were there in person, and listen to the funeral director say a prayer and sing a couple hymns.

I read a phrase recently that referred to the American way of death. All our past experiences included traditions that were followed. Planning the funeral, picking out clothes for the deceased, setting up the viewing, funeral and burial, and preparing for the post-funeral gathering. There was the viewing, then the funeral, a trip to the grave site and then a luncheon of some sort. The pandemic has disrupted all of that, and really robbed us of the opportunity to truly grieve and mourn the loss of an extremely important person in our lives.

But our virtual service brought us some relief. I suppose things finally seemed real. The best part was that those of us who were online together stayed on after the graveside service concluded. People were able to express their sympathy to my mother-in-law, and she in turn was able to interact with family that she hadn't seen for quite awhile. There were tears and reminiscing, laughter at old stories and jokes, and a sharing of the mutual love we all had for Jerry. It was the closure that we all needed. It might not have been the funeral that was well-planned by mom and dad, but we sure made use of the technology available to spread hugs, love and goodbyes. Even if it was all done virtually. RIP, beloved father.

family flowers

The Virtual Viewing

65th wedding anniversary

Yesterday my father-in-law was laid out out the funeral home. Current mandates during the COVID-19 pandemic allow only 10 people to be gathered in one place at a time. This number includes the funeral home staff and any clergy that might be there. Jim's older sister, who lives in the same town of my in-laws, was able to be there along with some of her close family members. They represented those of us who are having to stay in our own homes.

Through Messenger I was able to set it up that Jim's younger sister and her husband, our son and his wife, our daughter, and Jim and me were able to virtually attend the viewing. I thought I also had my mother-in-law in the group chat with the help of her hospice nurse, but we had a technology fail so they were not online. The funeral director sang "Be Not Afraid", and Sister Diana from their church read some scriptures and talked about her own personal experiences in knowing Jerry as long as she did. I was doing my best to text what was said to the hospice nurse to relay to mom.

It was a short service but very poignant and personalized. Then the hospice nurse sent me something mom had prepared and asked me to read it to everyone since she wasn't online with us. It was beautifully written and made me cry. I could barely get through it. To witness the love of this 68 year partnership is truly something.

Today is the virtual graveside ceremony in Minnesota. Our family will be well-represented by cousins and nephews and nieces, to the limit of the 10 gathering in one space. We are so grateful to each and every one of them for being there when we can not. Zoom is set up and a young woman will be providing the eyes and ears for us. If the technology gods are willing, mom will be joining us from her room in the nursing home. Worst case scenario, it will be recorded for future playback.

All of this is not what we planned or desired, but it is the hand we have been dealt. We are doing the best we can under extremely difficult and trying circumstance, and are grateful that technology is enabling us to have a least a little bit of closure.

Saying Goodbye to Dad

Gerald Wolterman

My father-in-law Jerry died April 22 at 10:53 in the evening. While no family member was allowed in the room with him, other than my mother-in-law, we were extremely grateful to learn that he passed while two nurses were there taking care of him. Hopefully with everyone wearing masks, he thought it was one of us.

I cannot find a word to exactly describe what it feels like to lose someone you love during this COVID crisis. Surreal comes close but seems insufficient somehow. You have an expectation, and a picture in your mind based on past experiences, of how the end of life for your loved one will be. The family would be gathered around the bedside of the one who is dying, holding their hand, telling them they are loved, saying good-bye...And those left behind would hold each other in their grief, mourning together, crying together. Relatives would be notified, and funeral preparations would begin. The loved one's life would be blessed by the priest and celebrated by the living before being taken to the cemetery for the final resting place.

Nowhere in that scenario or our wildest dreams did we expect a situation where we would be told not to leave our homes, much less our state, to visit the dying and comfort the living. That we could not hold our mom and tell her how sorry we are that her husband of 68 years has passed. That we would not be able to go to the funeral home and help with the selection of a casket and crypt. Or that we would not be able to hold a funeral due to the stay at home mandates, or accompany his body to Minnesota where his cemetery plot is located.

Instead we did a FaceTime chat with Jim's sister at the funeral home, which was better than nothing as we at least were able to sort of see the caskets and help her make a decision. In order to help ease the burden of the local sister we wrote the obituary and found a photo to accompany it. We have also been corresponding with cousins who right away volunteered to be at the cemetery when Jerry's body arrives. This was a great comfort to us as we felt it was going to be one last insult if no one was there by the graveside when he arrives. We are hoping to set up a Zoom event so that those of us who cannot travel to Minnesota can participate visually. If all goes well, it will be recorded so others can view it later. Jim and I are blessed with a neighbor who offered his assistance to set this up and record it for us.

Down the road we will have a Celebration of Life for Jerry, when it is safe for all of us to travel and be able to hug one another as we laugh and cry over a life well-lived. We are doing the best we can under the circumstances with the technology afforded us. But this is no way to lose someone you love and certainly no way to grieve the loss.

My father-in-law lived a long life, and we are grateful for the time we had with him. I was only 19 the first time I met him, and I loved him from the start. Here is a poem I wrote for him on Father's Day in 2017. The words mean more to me today than they did then, and it comforts me to know that he knew how much he meant to me.

poem to Dad

Dying in the Age of COVID-19

the sun sets, a life sets

We have two family members who are under hospice care and in the process of dying. While their medical conditions have nothing to do with COVID-19, the virus nonetheless is impacting the way that they will die. Because of the virus, all the other family members must stay at home. We cannot visit them, we cannot tell them how much we love them, we cannot tell them it is okay to let go, and we certainly cannot hold their hands as they die. While we are grateful that they are in a room together, it saddens us that we cannot be there to support them, especially the spouse who remains when the first one passes.

There will be no funeral, no closure for those of us left behind. We will certainly have a celebration of life later on down the road when we are safe to travel, but as we know funerals are for the living. They help us recognize the loss as real. It is a way to grieve with others, to hear the stories and share the memories. We will not be able to gather for emotional support and say good-bye to the physical presence that will no longer be a part of our lives.

COVID-19 may not be taking their lives, but it is certainly taking our opportunity to mourn their deaths in the way we had expected.

On Death and Dying

When I was in high school I read the book On Death and Dying, written by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross in 1969. I may still have my copy packed away with my old books. I used to fantasize that we were related to her since my maiden name is Kubler. But my dad said our family was from Germany and she was from Switzerland, so it was unlikely. (I have since learned that our family came from Busserach, Switzerland so I continue my quest to see if we share some branches on the family tree.) At any rate, I found Kubler-Ross' theory about the five stages of grief to be fascinating. I later wrote some papers about death and dying in college as I worked on my Family Services degree.

Someone close to me died last week. Her spouse is not telling too many people, and does not want any discussions about the death despite the fact that it was unexpected. The body was cremated and there will be no funeral. While I respect the wishes of the spouse, I think this approach is very hard on those left behind. Many of us communicate through social media avenues, letting our family and friends know of milestones, successes and yes, deaths. And funerals are for the living, not for the deceased. They are a way to share our memories of a loved one, and to share our grief as well. There will be no closure for the remaining family and friends in this case. I feel bad for all of those who knew and loved this woman who will not be made aware of her passing.

Everyone grieves in their own way - I understand that. But it doesn't make it any easier to try to come to terms with this loss. In recent years I have written poems when a loved one dies. So I will write one for the woman I loved, even though I won't be able to share it here. Heaven has another angel...

Father's Day 2013

Dad, me and my brother Joe circa 1958

It is hard to believe that my dad has been dead for over nine years now. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him. Here is the poem that I wrote and put on display at his funeral in 2004.

Saying Good-Bye

Rest easy now, and soar above

Be joined by all of those you’ve loved.

And while it’s hard to let you go,

You are in a better place, I know.

You served your country, served it well

At times it must have seemed a living hell.

Perhaps the family you left behind

Brought you back, sound of body and mind.

The years, they passed, your family grew

Until once again it was just you two.

You filled the time with volunteering and fun

The trips, the poor, a chorale group to run.

The life you lived was full and long

And through it all you seemed so strong.

Though you’re gone and in a different place

The footprints you’ve left won’t be erased.

So how can I bear to say good-bye

Not question the reason or the why?

I look in my heart and I know it’s true

No better father could I have had than you!

Happy Father's Day, dad! Love and miss you!

Funeral for a (Young) Friend

A week ago Saturday my brother's 20 year old son died suddenly. This is the same brother who lost his wife to cancer 11 years ago, leaving him with 3 small children to raise. My brother happily remarried two years ago, but due to scheduling conflicts we had not yet met his new wife. What a tragic reason for bringing all of us together! Jim and I flew out to Colorado on Tuesday as the funeral was going to be held on Wednesday morning. All of my other siblings arrived that day as well, and we stayed at the same hotel. We have not been together since my son's wedding 4 1/2 years ago, which is the last time that most of us had seen my nephew.

The funeral was very sad, but the priests did a really nice job of making it personal for the family and trying to make sense out of a senseless situation. After the Mass there was a reception (odd word choice for something following a funeral) downstairs at the church. My nephew's artwork was prominently displayed, and boy did he ever have some talent! They also were playing a slide show timed to music, which was both hard to watch and yet somewhat soul soothing.

Later in the day we all met up at my brother's house as people had been bringing lots of food by. It was nice to be able to spend time with my family as well as with the family of my sister-in-law. I am so happy that my brother has another wonderful woman in his life, and it is clear that the girls love and respect her.

On Thursday Jim and I flew to Los Angeles to see Katie. That part of the trip had been previously planned, and after some discussion we decided to go ahead with our visit. I really needed to hug my 21 year old.

Death of a Mother

Roy & Catherine Kubler

Today I attended a memorial service celebrating the life of my friend's mom. Every funeral is hard for me as I have lost both my parents, but those involving moms hit particularly close to home. I had never met Linda Austin's mom, but I felt like I knew her through the book Linda co-authored with her entitled Cherry Blossoms in Twilight. The book is a memoir of the time period in Yaeko's life when she was a young woman in Japan during WWII. The memorial service was probably one of the most touching I have ever attended, mostly because of the pastor who presided over the memorial. It was obvious that he personally knew Yaeko, and that he had spent time talking to Linda about her mom. So often when I go to a funeral the service seems so generic - you could just plug any one's name into the readings. That was not the case today. Yaeko was definitely part of the ceremony.

As the service wrapped up, the pastor presented a basket of dried or nearly dried flowers and leaves (Linda's mom often collected these when she was younger and pressed them into books, magazines and even her bible). He asked that we look in the basket on our way out and select an item which spoke to us. As I exited the chapel there in the basket I saw a small red rosebud. Red roses were my mom's favorite flower, so this one definitely spoke to me. It was like a sign from my mother, letting me know that she is okay. Perhaps she is even now collecting flowers with Yaeko. You just never know...

Another Death in the Family

Last Saturday my mother-in-law's sister died up in Minnesota. This was her last living sibling, and I can't begin to imagine how it would feel to be the only person left in your family. The private family wake was on Friday and the public wake and funeral were on Saturday. Jim was asked to be a pallbearer, and he was honored to take part. I did not travel with him for two reasons. First, the lady who stays with our dog has broken her foot and can't take care of any pets right now, and second we are traveling up to Iowa next weekend for my in-law's 60th wedding anniversary. I just couldn't see making two trips in a row, especially since I had to go to Cincinnati recently for my uncle's funeral.

This trip was a brutal one. Thursday he drove to Iowa, then Friday they drove to Minnesota, Saturday back to Iowa and today back to St. Louis. We did that same trip a couple summers ago for a family reunion and it was not pretty. I feel somewhat guilty that I didn't make the trip, but my body thanks me.

So that is two deaths quite close together. They say death comes in threes. Hopefully that does not end up to be the case.

The Ice Man Cometh

Friday morning we packed up the car and Kathy and I drove to Cincinnati for Uncle Mick's funeral. Kathy did well on the drive despite her aching broken shoulder. We arrived at our hotel by 3:30 and unloaded the suitcases in our room. Quite a few people were at the funeral home by the time we arrived. I spoke to many cousins I knew (and several I don't know), and enjoyed looking at the slide show and photo boards Mick's kids had put together. His casket was closed because he hit his face when he fell. I was surprised that the funeral home wasn't able to work around that by putting the injured side away from the opening of the casket, and working their make-up magic. I found it really hard to say good-bye when I couldn't see his sweet face.

There was no autopsy done, which also surprised me. I thought that they always did one when the cause of death was unknown. Did he simply fall and hit his head just so on the window sill? Did he have a heart attack, which caused the fall? Did he have a stroke first? I would want to know. What they do know is that he was out on his screened in porch in his winter coat (it was cold last Saturday night) listening to an Italian opera and smoking a cigar. His son and daughter-in-law found him at 3:00 Sunday afternoon. They could hear the opera playing as they walked down the hall of the condominium complex. I'm surprised no neighbors complained if the music played all night.

We stayed at the wake until the funeral home kicked us out around 6:15. Ten of us then went to the Price Hill Chili Parlor for supper. I spied chocolate covered baklava on the menu, so I had a bowl of soup so I could indulge in dessert. Awesome! Kathy and I got back to our hotel room around 9:15. It was beginning to mist as we drove back to the hotel, and that was just the beginning. The forecast was for an inch of ice to develop. Great...It brought back really bad memories of my dad's funeral in Cincinnati in 2004. We had rain, ice, sleet and inches of snow all within a 24 hour period. Hardly anyone could get to the funeral, and fewer still headed to the cemetery for the military burial service.

The funeral director had advised that we arrive early Saturday morning for the funeral because a) the church is in a really bad neighborhood and b) parking is a problem. Kathy and I took him at his word. I went out to scrape the ice off my car at 8:10. Twenty minutes later I was finally able to see out of the windows. I picked Kathy up under the overhang of the hotel and we crept across one of the bridges over the Ohio River to downtown Cincinnati. We arrived at the church at 9:00. The funeral was to begin at 10:00. We were the first ones there. We even beat the immediate family. This is why we were so close to the beginning of the funeral procession, which becomes important later in the story.

The Old St. Mary's Church is absolutely amazing inside. It was built in 1841 and is reminiscent of the churches in Europe. Apparently Uncle Mick had done some of the painting on the ceiling (just like Michelangelo, he would joke) during the restoration of the church, as well as behind the altar. He also helped author a book on the history of the church. (You can begin to see why he and I had so much in common.)

The priest who conducted the funeral was of Spanish descent, and to be honest I only understood about half of what he was saying. At one point I thought he said something about "release the cocktails". I puzzled on that for a moment until I realized he said "release the captives." Then I thought I heard him say a "hologram to heaven" - never did figure that one out. Irreverently the Saturday Night Live skit with Father Guido Sarducci (wrong country, I know) popped into my head during the service. Find the pope in the pizza contest... I was disappointed that the there wasn't a little more personalization to the Mass considering all that Uncle Mick had done for the church. The man who did the second reading - a cousin to Uncle Mick's deceased wife - tried to make that happen. When he approached the microphone he said, "I'd like to make an observation..." and then he stopped. Apparently the second priest, who was seated behind where he was speaking said, "No! No observations!" It was an awkward moment. One thing that was interesting about the Mass is that for communion we all came up and knelt at the communion rail, and you took the host on your tongue not in your hands. (Okay, that kind of sounds like an M & M commercial.)

Following Mass we went in procession to Spring Grove Cemetery. This is the same cemetery that my cousin Gina and I had photographed when I was in Cincinnati in August. It is similar to the Fort Bellefontaine Cemetery in St. Louis in that it is beautiful, hilly and filled with the who's who of city founding fathers. The first thing we saw when we drove through the gates was a sign that said something about hazardous driving conditions, and enter at your own risk. Not good. We were the fourth car in the procession following the hearse. Things were going okay until we came to a steep hill and the vehicles ahead of me came to a stop. My first thought was no! Don't stop going up the hill; I'll never get started again. My second was that this is where they expected us to park for the graveside funeral, and that we would have to walk up an icy hill. Not happening! Then I noticed that the hearse was sliding sideways. The driver got out of the vehicle and waved the car behind him around. He got back in the hearse and tried again. This time he slid off the side of the road. You can see in the picture where the other cars are in relation to where the hearse ended up. As the funeral director and his assistant were contemplating what to do, I noticed that the car behind me was right on my back bumper. Really? There was no way for me to even try to turn around with him so close.

After consulting on their phones, they decided we all would have to back down the hill and they would conduct the service at the chapel. I don't do backup well. Even on a straight, dry area. Now they want me to back down a steep, curving, icy hill? I gave the bumper parker plenty of time to get down the hill before I began my descent to a flat area where I could turn around on the side street. By now there were only two vehicles ahead of me and one behind me from our procession. The blind leading the blind through this huge cemetery. Which chapel? There are at least six in the cemetery. You've heard of the wedding crashers? We were the funeral crashers, as we weren't the only ones trying to bury a loved one on an icy, miserable January day.

We finally located cars with our particular funeral flags on their roofs and hurried in to hear the priest speak his last words over the casket. (I later learned that they were going to start without us until one of my cousins informed the funeral director that Mick's two sisters and her out of town cousins were not present yet.) Here was the personalized eulogy I had been hoping to hear. This priest obviously knew my uncle well, and shed tears with the rest of us. The marines came in as Taps was played, and the military burial service was conducted. Not a dry eye in the house.

Following this final service we all headed over to the club house of Mick's condominium complex for a reception. It was very nice, and you couldn't help but think how much Mick would have enjoyed seeing everyone. It broke up around 5 and Kathy & I along with Aunt Margie and her son Pat, daughter Mary Ann, and Mary Ann's daughter Gina decided to go out to supper. We told stories and had some laughs, and I think it helped take Margie's mind off of her brother's death for a bit. I had told Mary Ann that we would give Margie a ride home because it was out of her way to take her mom home and she had to pack for a business trip. Anyway Kathy and I had not had any time alone with Margie and normally we get to spend a lot of time with her when we are in town. Aunt Margie will turn 90 this summer, but she still lives at home and drives herself everywhere. Except when the iceman cometh.

After we ate I went to move my car as close to the restaurant as I could. Gina got her grandma settled in the front seat and Kathy got into the back. Because of her broken shoulder she cannot fasten the seat belt by herself. Mary Ann tried to help her and she couldn't get it to work. Then Gina opened the other back door and tried to approach it from that direction. She slipped on some ice and barely was able to catch herself. By now we were all laughing so hard we couldn't see straight. I asked the question, "How many Crushams does it take to fasten a seat belt?" They finally got her buckled in and we headed over to Margie's.

When I pulled into her driveway, it was a sheet of ice. She opened her garage door and I pulled as close as I could to the back of her car. I still had to slowly walk around my car holding on for dear life to get to her car door. After getting her safely into the garage I then had to get Kathy from my back seat into the front for a slip-slidey trip back across the river to our hotel. I was never so happy to get to a hotel room as I was last night. The drive home today was accomplished not with ice but with fog instead. Ei, yi, yi! But we made it, so that is all that matters at this point.

Road Trip

Early tomorrow morning my sister and I will head over to Cincinnati for Uncle Mick's funeral. I got the car all cleaned and gassed up today so we can hit the road as soon as she gets to my house. The wake is from 4-6 p.m. tomorrow, and with the hour time change we need to roll early. I have built in extra time due to Kathy's broken shoulder. Because it still pains her quite a bit, I want to be able to stop frequently for her to get out and move around if need be. I also want to check into our hotel first if we have time. I have learned the hard way that even with a guaranteed room you will get the crappy location if you check in late.

The funeral itself is Saturday morning at the Old St. Mary's Church. As mentioned in my last post, Uncle Mick was a long-time volunteer there. I expect that the church will be full between our large family, the Cincinnati Museum folks and the parishioners of St. Mary's. I always think at these things how much the deceased person would have enjoyed having everyone together.

We will come home on Sunday. Normally we spend an extra day in Cincinnati, but since we will see everyone we want to see on Friday or Saturday, there doesn't seem to be much point in hanging around. Especially since we are paying for a hotel this trip. Now I will just pray for good weather so that no one has to worry about traveling.

And Then There Were Two

Today my uncle Mick died. He was the youngest of eight children in my mom's family. His twin brother Jim died in 2008. Now only Betty and Margie remain. We have not yet heard how Mick died, only that his son and daughter-in-law found him in his screened-in porch. It was cold in Cincinnati today, so it is strange that he was even out there. Mick was a very young nearly 82 year-old. He was active as a docent with the historical museum downtown, conducted tours of Cincinnati, and was instrumental (pardon the pun) in the restoration of the organ at historic (1842) Old St. Mary's Church. He also liked to travel, and was scheduled to go to Cancun next week with another widowed friend.

It is ironic because I have been scanning old photos and documents and putting them into my online family tree. But I have also been posting pictures up on Facebook for my family to enjoy. Last night I added photos from the 2008 and 2011 family reunions. Uncle Jim is in a couple of the ones from 2008, and Uncle Mick in some from 2011. One of my cousins commented that there were only the three siblings left. Now there are only two.

I don't know if I will be able to attend the funeral. We don't know the arrangements yet. But I know that Kathy cannot go with me due to her shoulder injury. She simply cannot ride in a car that long. Or miss physical therapy for that matter. I'll have to decide if I want to make the six hour drive by myself. But I would like the opportunity to see my aunts and my cousins. Because it is all too sad that it seems to take a funeral to get us all together. Even the family reunions don't see to do it anymore. RIP, Uncle Mick!

Aunt Betty, Uncle Mick & Aunt Margie

Life & Death Experiences

On September 12th my niece's father-in-law died at the nursing home where he had been staying for the past couple of years. Ralph was 88 years old, but his mind and body had checked out a while back. I last saw him at our family Christmas gathering, and he was in tough shape then. One thing that hadn't faded was his sense of humor. He was quite a character! As Ralph and his wife Emily had no church of their own, my niece's pastor offered to have the funeral at their church in Cahokia. It was very touching and moving, especially considering the pastor had only met Ralph on a couple of occasions. One particular statement he made has stayed with me. "We can spend time or we can waste time, but we can never make time." As a veteran Marine of both WWII and the Korean War, Ralph was eligible to be buried at Jefferson Barracks Cemetery. They provided a full military ceremony, complete with the firing of the rifles and the playing of Taps. A military funeral is something that touches everyone in attendance, and there were no dry eyes in our group. R.I.P. Ralph - you earned it.

My mother-in-law turns 80 tomorrow, and we all traveled to Iowa last weekend to celebrate with her. Jim and I stopped at the St. Louis University Lay Education Center near Bowling Green on our way up to see what that was all about. It is a sculpture garden, and it has a cemetery next to it that was established in 1831. Very interesting! We also stopped at a few barn quilts on the way so that I could take some photographs. Unfortunately the day was dreary and we were on a bit of a schedule, so I only got to photograph 4 of them.

On Friday we attended the Charles City homecoming parade. It was fun to see all the kids in the parade, and strange to think that Jim would have been on the flatbed truck with the other football players more than 30 years ago. Saturday we hit the Farmer's Market in the morning and a quilt show in the afternoon before going to Mass. That night 10 of us took Lorraine out to supper in nearby New Hampton. Great food! Sunday Jim's sister had us all over for brunch before we had to leave for home.

Monday of this week my brother-in-law turned 65. On Saturday Jim and I will have 12 people here for a barbecue to celebrate this milestone. Emily will come, but we sure will miss Big Ralph!

You Can't Go Home Again

Especially if the home is no longer there. Today I went to see if I could find the house my mom and dad lived in while my dad was stationed at Jefferson Barracks. I have a picture of the house, and even though I don't have the exact address my dad had indicated that it was on Perrin near Notre Dame High School. A quick Mapquest review showed that Perrin is not a very long road, so not having a house number shouldn't be a problem.

The house was no longer there, however. There are several lots with no houses on them at all, so perhaps one of those is where the house once stood. I could see Jefferson Barracks from the area, and I wondered if dad walked there each day?

I decided to drive through the cemetery since the day was sunny, if not warm. There were two funerals taking place that I came across. I went to the highest part of the cemetery and got out of my car to look around. Though I have visited Arlington National Cemetery a couple of times, I have never visited Jefferson Barracks before. It was really sobering to realize that each of those stones represents someones past; a life lived and now gone. As I drove out the gates of the cemetery, a funeral procession was heading in. And so the cycle continues...

Funeral for a Friend

Kathy and I drove to Cincinnati on Thursday so that we could attend Uncle Jim's funeral. Our cousin Gene and his wife Rita are always gracious about us staying with them when we are in town. Unfortunately Rita had to go to Michigan to be with her mother, so we didn't get to see much of her. First on the agenda was supper at Skyline Chili. There is nothing like this unique local chili served over spaghetti and heaped with shredded cheddar cheese. Yum! Fortunately you can purchase dry mix or frozen chili to bring back to the uneducated St. Louis market. Friday afternoon we picked up Aunt Betty and Aunt Margie, mom's remaining two sisters, for a long lunch. We knew that Saturday would be very busy with the wake and funeral, so we wanted some time with them without the crowds. Two of our cousins were able to join us, so the six of us had a nice three hour lunch. Thank goodness for Golden Corral, as they do not care how long we occupy a table. Thank goodness for my waist line that I did not eat for the entire three hours! Cousin Gene opted for a game of golf as that was preferable to sitting with us for all that time. That worked for all as we like to have our girl talk without men's ears around. Saturday we left Gene's around 7:45 a.m. and grabbed a bite to eat on the way to the funeral parlor. The wake found the funeral home packed to capacity with Crusham relatives and friends. As Uncle Jim has an identical twin, it caused quite a stir as people would catch a glimpse of Uncle Mick and for a moment be fooled into thinking Jim was still alive. A practical joker, I think Jim would have gotten a kick out of that, though I think it was pretty emotional for the kids. Numerous photos were spread throughout the three rooms, indicative of a life filled with love of his family, friends and his country. My cousins and I lamented the fact that it seems to take a funeral to bring everyone together. Following the wake, the longest funeral procession I have ever been part of traveled to the church for the funeral. Many tears were shed as Jim's life was remembered by his children. The 12 grandchildren carried up the offertory, and each had a single carnation which was placed in a glass vase on the altar. Even the college boys in this procession cried, and their love of their grandfather was very evident. Following communion, Jim's son Jimmy spoke of his father, and ended with the declaration that he was proud to be Jim's son, which again brought everyone to tears. My poor sister had been asked to read a tribute written by Jim's twin, Mick, and it following Jimmy's talk. She mostly cried her way through it, but she did get the job done, relaying Mick's love and bond with his twin. Jim had always called Mick his "Womb Mate", which again indicated his wonderful sense of humor. Upon conclusion, there was not a dry eye in the church. We proceeded to the cemetery for a final prayer, and then to Tom Crusham's house for a buffet. Tom's daughters had put together a slide show of photos of Jim's life, which was very touching. Lots of stories were told, and being Irish, a toast was raised to the memory of a very special man. Though we are all happy he is finally released from his pain, he will be greatly missed.

On our way back to Gene's Kathy and I stopped at St. Joseph's Cemetery to visit mom and dad's graves. After that we went to see the Veteran's Memorial which was newly erected by Delhi Township. Any member of the community who served their country can have their name engraved on the memorial. I had submitted dad's honorable discharge papers to the township, and a relative had indicated that LeRoy Kubler's name is indeed on the wall. I know that if my dad were alive he would not have submitted his name for inclusion. He believed he was just doing his job in serving his country during WWII, and would not think he did anything out of the ordinary to deserve having his name on a memorial. But I know what he missed out on as he spent time first at Jefferson Barracks and then in India, not the least of which was the births of his first two children. My sister was 18 months old when he saw her for the first time. I believe dad did plenty to warrant having his name displayed in this memorial.

The Shrinking Family Tree

My cousin from Cincinnati emailed me last night that my mom's brother Jim died on Sunday. Kathy and I will travel there for the funeral, lamenting again the fact that it seems to take a funeral to get the whole family together. Mom was one of nine children, including a brother who lived less than one day. Jim and his twin brother Mick were the babies in the family. At a recent family reunion this summer, I photographed the remaining siblings - Margie, Betty, Jim and Mick. How happy I am that Kathy and I made the extremely quick trip to Cincinnati for that reunion! And happier still that we took the photographs! While I have lost both of my parents, I have yet to experience the death of a sibling. I can't imagine the grief my aunts are going through, let alone how it must feel to lose a twin. Uncle Jim went through a lot in his life. He and his wife Ruth had six children, the youngest of whom was born with severe disabilities. Ruth died of cancer in 1993, and Jim was later able to reconnect with a woman he knew in school. They married, and she also died of cancer. Then he himself was diagnosed with cancer. Through it all he never seemed to lose his love of life or his sense of humor. This branch of the family tree will be sorely missed. Godspeed, Uncle Jim!