Tag Archives: God

Letters to Diane – 29

Posted on by

Dear Diane,

We made it through the 29th without any major issues. Actually, ewe made it without minor issues, too. It’s been a good day.

I just returned from walking Max for the 2nd time today. He’s really such a good little critter and I thank God every day for leading you to him. He’s a blessing, as are you.

Today I’m going to share something Lydia wrote that I really like. It’s mainly about you so it’s relevant, and she said it would be OK to share. This is about her experience at Diane’s memorial service on November 8th.

I quote Lydia

I didn’t think it would hit the way it did. Out of nowhere. Unexpectedly. On some level I should’ve known, it was  my first Christmas without her. But all day we went to church and sang and ate, spent time together laughing and opening gifts. But… But then it was 9:15 and I was sitting in an ugly yellow pew. An ugly yellow pew that wasn’t ugly at all because it was hers.

It was 9:15, in an ugly yellow pew and we were singing some Christmas hymn that was much too high, and then I was crying. He held me. I looked away from the screen with the words and my eye snagged on the candles. All the sudden I was 7 and she was showing my how t hold the wick, when to walk, how fast to walk, where to stop and bow before stepping up in front of His portrait and lighting the candles. Slowly, from left to right.

Then I was 10, it was unreasonably hot outside, but not here, not standing with her amongst the pews strewn with rows of handmade quilts. She remembered to show up early and turn on the AC. I only wanted the soup downstairs, but she made me stop and look at the quilts first.

Then I was 12, my brothers and I trying to shrink while pastor stood with his guitar calling the children forward. We thought we were too old to be considered children. She nudged us out of our seats, told us to snag a candy cane for her.

Then I was 13, standing over the heater again waiting for everyone to show up for choir practice.

16 sitting in the basement eating little sandwiches off of pretty floral trays with her and her friends.

18 and singing, 19 sneaking spiked spiced cider, 22 and chasing the boys through the basement as they giggled and she rolled her eyes, 24 and singing Hosiana next to her. The last time we sang it together.

26. 26 and sitting in the front pew. That ugly yellow pew. In a black dress. Family next to and behind me. Tears streaming, pastor speaking, her picture staring back at me. Pretty yellow flowers next to the candles, as I let her go. Or so I thought.

Because then I was 26. Sitting in an ugly yellow pew on Christmas Eve again, staring at the candles, listening to the hymns with tears streaming as my first Christmas without her passed. The organ was playing and people were singing, but all I could hear was her laugh, her scolding us for running, or standing over the heater while my dress puffed up. All I could see was her smile, her eyes rolling, her face.

Mom sang with the crowd, he held my hand, and I cried.

End Quote

I found this to be quite profound and a tribute to you and a little about how much she loves you. An addendum to her narrative is about the “he” she refers to. I asked and she said it was Jared, her boyfriend. He’s a stellar guy and will one day be a valuable member of the family. Heck, he’s already a family member. I glad you got to meet him before you left us.

Now I must bid you good night. I love you and I miss you.

Jerrie

PS — Here’s another favorite photo of you.

Day 164 – Tuesday – Moving East to Coburg

Posted on by

Max was cold this morning.

Diane’s wearing his favorite coat because she’s cold, too. It was 29 when I got up this morning. That was outside. Inside it was a numbing 39. You’d think that smart people would leave a heater running through the night, right. Well, I’ve read too many stories about those things catching on fire. As for the propane furnace, they kill people in the night, too. So, we just let thing go natural and deal with it. Besides, once everyone is up the furnace warms it up quickly. That’s true unless you’re me, and you get up 3 hours before Diane, and you really do not want to turn the furnace on until she gets up. That’s not because I’m afraid, honest. It’s because it’s the kind thing to do. The furnace is noisy.

The drive from Highway 101 to I-5 was without incident. We did it at 55 mph most of the way and the bus performed perfectly. Not once on this trip has it overheated. Though I haven’t previously mentioned that issue, it’s been on my mind every step of the way.

We got to Armitage Park in Coburg around noonish. Since we are only staying one night, and we were in a pull-thru, there was no need to unshackle the car from the bus. For some odd reason we may never understand, I did it anyway. We had no plans to go anywhere so it’s perplexing that my mind allowed me to do that. Now I’ll have to put it all back together in the morning.

Max got to play in the dog run for a while and made a couple of new friends. Since I forgot to take my phone with me, a punishable error, I didn’t get any photos. Trust me when I say he got in a few zoomies that he’s been missing since last summer.

We don’t have a view of the southern sky so no satellite connection tonight. We do, however, have access to Netflix, and the Dish DVR for recorded shows. So, we watched old stuff, had a simple supper, then went to bed, anticipating our early arrival home tomorrow.

Only two hours to go.

Day 146 – Friday – Route 66

Posted on by

Diane took Max and me a little bit southwest of Barstow to visit a couple of places that caught her eye. Both are on iconic Route 66. Before going to those places, however, it was unanimous that we stop for lunch. Diane pulled off the road so we could search for a likely place to eat. The only place to pull off the road was to the left because to the right are railroad tracks, lots of them, where trains whiz by going 100’s of mph. Some of the places were within a few miles of us but the one that caught her eye was the Cross Eyed Cow Pizza in Oro Grande. She looked up from her search and saw a sign for that restaurant about 100 feet ahead of us, pointing to the buildings directly in front of us. To get there she had to pull onto Route 66, drive about 50 feet, then turn left into the parking lot behind the buildings.

From the parking area we entered through the back door.

Once inside, the young lady behind the counter told us to take a menu and sit anywhere we wanted. So we did, and studied the menu.

The menu was interesting, with lots of choices, and the area on the right (black on white) was a list of everything that’s on the menu. Interesting. We ordered a 12″ pepperoni pizza and 2 root beer floats. Though the place wasn’t full, it took a long time to get our order. Sadly, I failed to take a picture. The pizza was one of the best we’ve had in years, and we ate it all. The floats were pretty awesome, too.

The booth dividers are adorned with butter knives.

Max watched me take every bite and managed to get a number of little bites for being such a good boy. He spent most of his time laying under the table watching everyone else.

After finishing lunch, we went back to the parking lot where I got these photos.

This was actually the highlight of the day because it was so unexpected. Then we proceeded to the locations Diane had on the calendar.

The first place was called Antique Station. From outside the building looks like a strip mall of sorts where there are numerous individual stores, side by side. But. no matter which entrance you choose, you wind up in one huge store that’s full of an amazing amount of stuff and it’s all well-organized.

The second stop was Elmer Long’s Bottle Tree Ranch. Somehow, Elmer either inherited an unlimited supply of bottles he had no use for, or he drinks a lot and needed to misdirect observers away from that thought, he had a momentary flash of insanity and decided to make a device on which he could stick his various bottles to make them look like trees. These might also be what’s left over from when Elmer built the bottle house in Calico. I doubt it, but who knows? I’m pretty sure Elmer didn’t build that house.

Elmer spent a lot of time building his trees and adding the bottles.

And he has a stockpile of jars and bottles to keep him going for a while.

As we were pulling out of the parking lot Diane spied a white box laying in the gravel that was totally out of place. so she stopped and I retrieved it. Turns out it was an unopened pack of Japanese cigarettes unlike anything I’ve ever seen for sale here in the good old USA. Of man interest to us was the warnings they put on the package. All the writing is in Japanese, but they make it very clear that smoking isn’t good for you. They use pictures.

Kind makes you want to light up, sit back, and relax, right? I’ve done a bunch of research trying to find photos of the pack we found but they just aren’t out there. They do, however, have these.

Very graphic, huh?

Moving on, we joined the crowds on Route 66 and headed east back to Barstow. There actually wasn’t very much traffic, so the trip was very pleasant. We stopped at the Walmart Superstore about a mile from the base so Diane could get some essentials, then got back home in time for this.

Drilling in on this photo reveals what appears to be an airborne tornado. That, or it’s an alien elevator created on demand so they can get from one cloud to another. Isn’t nature interesting?

That’s it.

401k’s, My Water Pump, and God

Posted on by

I’ve delayed adding this entry because the number, 401, invokes some really sad memories of my previous employment. You see, the power company I worked for was purchased by ENRON and convinced a large number of employees that their stock was impervious to decline. Indeed, it rose rapidly, and stayed high for a long time. Being one of the gullible group, I cast my fortunes with them right up until they made it impossible to withdraw before the stock dropped to $0. Nice. So, my 401k disappeared, after 15 years of participation, in the virtual blink of an eye.

There’s my sad story for today.

Now on to fun stuff …

I worked on the RV today because last night I discovered the water pump leaked. It leaked a lot. This morning I removed it and ripped it apart to see what makes it tick. It was evident someone before me had a problem with it because, in addition to screws, it was held together with silicon gasket material. It was this that became compromised allowing water to squirt all over under the sink. Sadly, I won’t be able to replace parts in it because they don’t make this kind any more. I’ll have to buy a new one. I may let it dry out and see about making it water tight, once again, but don’t have any high hopes of that happening. It would be far easier to just replace it but, then, it’s been a while since I’ve had my fingers stuck together with silicone sealant. Might be kinda nice, for a change.

There’s good news – the ’79 RV still runs, and the transmission works! I know because I drove it to Warren and parked it at the church as agreed. It drives just great even though it hasn’t been driven for about a year. I start it once in a while, just for fun, so I know the engine is good. Might be a good idea to change the oil, though. You think?

Now it’s time to lounge for the evening. I have nothing significant to say except I’ve been working on my version of religious history. I think I’m on chapter seven. I’m doing it with the firm belief that God has a sense of humor. He must because I have not been hit by lightning, yet. There is, however, always tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll be labeled a blasphemer, at the minimum, and that’s OK because I know it’s not true.

I’m just having fun at God’s expense. Since he knows me so well, I don’t think he minds.