The week before Christmas, a support group friend said, "I just want it to be over." I didn't feel that way, nor did I feel dread as Christmas approached. I just felt a deep sadness because Christmas was always a big deal to us. I mostly was anxious for Ed's kids to have the gift I made them--a family tree that reflected all the research he had done, representing seven generations from his grandkids back through the ancestors from Germany. I designed it and had it printed, then I framed it, making one for each of the six kids and one for myself. I so wanted to give them something that would feel like it came from him.
The Giesman gathering at Becky and Tim's house on Sunday, December 23, seemed to go so fast with hardly a chance to catch up with everybody. Then on Monday morning, I flew to Cedar Rapids. There, too, it felt like a whirlwind of things to do to get ready for Santa's arrival and for the Christmas buffet (all appetizer foods) on Christmas Day, a tradition that we started when Melissa was little. Will was the cute baby you'd expect a three-month-old to be; he was very good in church Christmas Eve, captivating the people around us with his smiles. Santa was very good to us all, and having Mark's family join us for the buffet capped off a very nice Christmas Day.
Melissa and Mark both worked on Thursday, so Grammy and Will spent the day together. Will is now almost 14 1/2 pounds, and carrying him around and especially stooping while holding him reminded me that my knees don't like to do such things too often. We both did just fine, however, and Melissa really didn't need to call every few hours to check on us. The week went quickly, probably because I was so occupied the whole time doing things with Melissa and Mark and Will and Mark's family.
Overall, this Christmas included familiar things and traditions--though I never did put up the Christmas tree--as well as some new wrinkles. Ed and I always said Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were supposed to be for the kids being with their own families, and he and I would gather them at another time during the holiday season. I felt so guilty for having "violated" our guideline by going to Melissa's for Christmas Eve. My support group friends' response to that guilt was that because Melissa invited me and wanted me there, I had permission to disregard our guideline and it wasn't any kind of betrayal. That didn't stop the feeling I had, however. But now, as I think back on past years, I realize that in 2005 we had the Giesman gathering here on December 24, and I remember people staying until pretty late. So I guess I needn't feel guilty about the timing of my trip.
Today I went to the Columbus Museum of Art to see the special Monet exhibit. I don't claim to be schooled in art, but I have always appreciated paintings from the era of Impressionism. It was the only kind of art exhibit Ed could get interested in seeing, probably because he knew how much I liked that. A couple of Christmases ago, Ed got me a print of one of Monet's most famous paintings, and the following Christmas, I had it beautifully framed and gave it to him. So it seemed fitting to close out this Christmas week looking at some art that stirs my soul and reminds me of some things we shared.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Another memorial service
This evening I attended a memorial service held at the chapel at Sunset Cemetery, where Ed is buried. It was brief but beautiful. This was the first time the cemetery offered this event, and the response was far beyond their expectations. There must have been 200 people there. It was standing room only inside the chapel. It was a dark and dreary night because we are having several days of rain, especially dark because there is no illumination along the cemetery roads; but the entrance to the cemetery and the driveway to the chapel were lined with luminaries, and it was beautiful and kind of comforting for me. Staff were located strategically to guide the traffic and get everyone parked near the chapel. They had golf carts to ferry people from their cars to the chapel if they did not want to walk. Inside, there was a Christmas tree simply decorated with gold ribbon and ornaments, and a very large candle, which some children in attendance helped light. A minister from Potters House of God in Columbus spoke informally but meaningfully, and a couple of times his words brought tears to my eyes. The ornament I received as a remembrance is silverplate, a flat circular style, with the center being a candle at whose base are holly berries and leaves. The bottom is inscribed
In Loving Memory
Ed Giesman
7/3/1935 - 6/16/2007
At one point, the minister asked us all to join in singing one verse of Amazing Grace, which everyone did. I never would have thought that an assembly of people who never saw or heard of each other before would sing out in 4-part harmony, but we did. It was touching and beautiful, so much so that the minister asked us to do it again--and we did. He closed with a prayer, having us hold hands with the people on each side of us; that too was comforting to me.
It's really rough trying to share in the joy of the holiday. I still have not put up any Christmas decorations. The only thing I did do was put out the PEACE sign we always put out as part of our outdoor Christmas decorations for the past 10 years. But wouldn't you know it, now it won't light up. So I have brought it back inside, and I plan to sit with it as Ed did so many times with strings of lights, testing each bulb until I find the culprit that is keeping it from lighting. I hope I have as much patience with it as he did. Perhaps this new ornament will be the impetus to get out some Christmas decor. As much as we both loved Christmas decorating and music and shopping (me more than Ed on that one) and gathering with family and friends, I really do need to honor that.
In Loving Memory
Ed Giesman
7/3/1935 - 6/16/2007
At one point, the minister asked us all to join in singing one verse of Amazing Grace, which everyone did. I never would have thought that an assembly of people who never saw or heard of each other before would sing out in 4-part harmony, but we did. It was touching and beautiful, so much so that the minister asked us to do it again--and we did. He closed with a prayer, having us hold hands with the people on each side of us; that too was comforting to me.
It's really rough trying to share in the joy of the holiday. I still have not put up any Christmas decorations. The only thing I did do was put out the PEACE sign we always put out as part of our outdoor Christmas decorations for the past 10 years. But wouldn't you know it, now it won't light up. So I have brought it back inside, and I plan to sit with it as Ed did so many times with strings of lights, testing each bulb until I find the culprit that is keeping it from lighting. I hope I have as much patience with it as he did. Perhaps this new ornament will be the impetus to get out some Christmas decor. As much as we both loved Christmas decorating and music and shopping (me more than Ed on that one) and gathering with family and friends, I really do need to honor that.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Bob Giesman's Memorial Service
Yesterday afternoon, Bob's memorial service was held at Norwood Presbyterian Church, just down the street from Bob and Maryellen's home. It included tributes that really captured who Bob was. A long-time work friend, a 30+ years' poker buddy, the minister, and Maryellen all spoke about his sense of humor, quick wit, love of pulling pranks, his love for his family and commitment to provide for them, and his devotion to his work. His daughter Pat wrote a fitting poem about laughter. Pat's emotion seeped through a little as she read her poem, but she reined it in and made it through just fine. Who truly amazed me was Maryellen. She related some anecdotes about Bob's pranks and humor and kept her composure throughout. I don't know where she found the strength to do that so eloquently although she told me before the service that she was determined to try. After 44 years of marriage, she knew Bob better than anyone, so maybe that gave her the courage. What makes this amazing is that Maryellen has always had a difficult time being around people and socializing, much preferring to keep to herself. Speaking in public is not something people would expect of her, and certainly not under these circumstances. But she did it, and I'm proud of her and Pat. I didn't look around at the crowd in church, but afterwards in the fellowship hall, there seemed to be so many people. I couldn't estimate the size of the group (Ed was much better at that than I am), but I think we pretty much filled the small church. Pat said they ordered food for 100 people; there must have been that many or more.
There was only one part of the service when I sort of broke down. I anticipated that Ed would be mentioned at some point and thought I had prepared myself for that, but these details were not what I expected to hear and so they got to me: The minister, Rev. Chris White, related how for years and years Ed and Bob sent each other the same birthday card back and forth each year. What she didn't say was that each year the sender would add some humorous, sometimes slightly insulting comment about the difference in their ages. (Ed was 7 years and 8 months older than Bob.) Every centimeter of that card--front, back, inside--was covered with comments. Part of the fun they had in recent years was finding where the new comment was "hiding." Bob relished pointing out that Ed was now 8 years older as of his latest birthday, and Ed always reminded Bob that they were back to 7 1/2 years when Bob's birthday approached. Each of the guys had one year when they couldn't find the card. For Ed, it was after we moved from Norwalk, IA, to Bartlett, IL, and Bob's March 29 birthday had come. Ed searched and searched but couldn't find the card. So he bought a new card and re-started this "tradition" with profuse apologies. By chance (typical that you find what you're looking for when you're not looking for it), Ed found the card and mailed it belatedly. The same happened with Bob--finally finding it and sending it belatedly. At Ed's viewing, Bob placed the card in Ed's casket. He told me it was his turn to receive it. (This was on June 19 and Ed's birthday was July 3.) I didn't ask Bob if he added this year's comment to the card nor did I disturb it once he placed it beside Ed. I think I remember there was more than just the card there, but whatever it was, I know it represented the bond between the Giesman brothers.
As I had the opportunity yesterday, I tried to be a comfort to Maryellen, Brenda, Pat and Kirk, Lisa, Bobby and Dawn (I still am not used to calling him Robert or Bob), Amy, and Steven--most especially to Maryellen. Besides being at Bob's memorial service with Ed's 6 "kids," being with the extended family gave me such a feeling of comfort. I'm so grateful to still be welcomed and thought about by such wonderful people. I know there's a danger in naming names because, at a time when you're a little distraught, you may not remember everyone you talked with, but here goes. Aunt Jinny Runk, cousins Fred and Sandy, Karen and Stan, Jim and Vivian, and Tommy, plus Ed's long-time friends Larry and Tom, were all so warm towards me that it helped me hold myself together when all during the week I had been pretty much falling apart at any time of day. I didn't want to draw attention to myself at this gathering by breaking down. My support group, who had been asking me each week how Bob was doing, told me that my setback was obvious on Wednesday evening. I knew it because I was back to not sleeping well as well as crying so much. They offered their support and hugs that night, and I confess I really needed that. Melissa had been bearing the brunt of supporting me through this sorrow over Bob and the re-awakening of the loss of Ed, and once again I felt guilty about burdening her so much. The support group reminded me, however, that although I feel as though I've lost a lot of the progress I had made in learning to live with grief, I have had the experience of getting better and I will get back to that place, maybe more quickly this time than before.
It's heartening to find out that people are still checking this blog for updates and look forward to reading what I write. The phrase "makes me feel connected" came up a couple of times yesterday in my conversations with the cousins. Guess I should have warned you all that this entry would be a long, tear-filled one.
There was only one part of the service when I sort of broke down. I anticipated that Ed would be mentioned at some point and thought I had prepared myself for that, but these details were not what I expected to hear and so they got to me: The minister, Rev. Chris White, related how for years and years Ed and Bob sent each other the same birthday card back and forth each year. What she didn't say was that each year the sender would add some humorous, sometimes slightly insulting comment about the difference in their ages. (Ed was 7 years and 8 months older than Bob.) Every centimeter of that card--front, back, inside--was covered with comments. Part of the fun they had in recent years was finding where the new comment was "hiding." Bob relished pointing out that Ed was now 8 years older as of his latest birthday, and Ed always reminded Bob that they were back to 7 1/2 years when Bob's birthday approached. Each of the guys had one year when they couldn't find the card. For Ed, it was after we moved from Norwalk, IA, to Bartlett, IL, and Bob's March 29 birthday had come. Ed searched and searched but couldn't find the card. So he bought a new card and re-started this "tradition" with profuse apologies. By chance (typical that you find what you're looking for when you're not looking for it), Ed found the card and mailed it belatedly. The same happened with Bob--finally finding it and sending it belatedly. At Ed's viewing, Bob placed the card in Ed's casket. He told me it was his turn to receive it. (This was on June 19 and Ed's birthday was July 3.) I didn't ask Bob if he added this year's comment to the card nor did I disturb it once he placed it beside Ed. I think I remember there was more than just the card there, but whatever it was, I know it represented the bond between the Giesman brothers.
As I had the opportunity yesterday, I tried to be a comfort to Maryellen, Brenda, Pat and Kirk, Lisa, Bobby and Dawn (I still am not used to calling him Robert or Bob), Amy, and Steven--most especially to Maryellen. Besides being at Bob's memorial service with Ed's 6 "kids," being with the extended family gave me such a feeling of comfort. I'm so grateful to still be welcomed and thought about by such wonderful people. I know there's a danger in naming names because, at a time when you're a little distraught, you may not remember everyone you talked with, but here goes. Aunt Jinny Runk, cousins Fred and Sandy, Karen and Stan, Jim and Vivian, and Tommy, plus Ed's long-time friends Larry and Tom, were all so warm towards me that it helped me hold myself together when all during the week I had been pretty much falling apart at any time of day. I didn't want to draw attention to myself at this gathering by breaking down. My support group, who had been asking me each week how Bob was doing, told me that my setback was obvious on Wednesday evening. I knew it because I was back to not sleeping well as well as crying so much. They offered their support and hugs that night, and I confess I really needed that. Melissa had been bearing the brunt of supporting me through this sorrow over Bob and the re-awakening of the loss of Ed, and once again I felt guilty about burdening her so much. The support group reminded me, however, that although I feel as though I've lost a lot of the progress I had made in learning to live with grief, I have had the experience of getting better and I will get back to that place, maybe more quickly this time than before.
It's heartening to find out that people are still checking this blog for updates and look forward to reading what I write. The phrase "makes me feel connected" came up a couple of times yesterday in my conversations with the cousins. Guess I should have warned you all that this entry would be a long, tear-filled one.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)