25th wedding anniversary

Today would have been Ed and my 25th wedding anniversary. Although I went to the cemetery this morning and got a little teary-eyed, I can honestly say that I am doing well on this day. I have pleasant, loving memories that comfort me. I don't have a need to cry and grieve. That's saying a lot. It's proof that I have come a long way. I think Ed would be proud of me.

4th anniversary

I haven't written in this blog since my granddaughter Aubrey's birth in August 2010, but today I feel the need. A lot has happened since Ed died on this date four years ago. I hope he is proud of the way I am living my life and taking care of the finances and legacy he left me. In past years, the days leading up to the anniversary of his death were very hard, filled with much emotion. That wasn't true this year. I had friends to be with, activities that gave me joy. I thought about him, about us, and I seemed to be having positive thoughts and good memories and handling the days well. But then today arrived, and it all came back to me. Not to the extreme of before, but sorrow and tears nevertheless. I went to the cemetery shortly before the time of his death. I drove there in rain, but when I got to his gravesite, the sun suddenly came out and felt like it was warming me, just me. Four minutes later, which would be the approximate time of his death, a quick, hard downpour occurred. It was over in 2 minutes, and the sun returned. Some would say there was meaning to those natural events. I choose to believe that. It still pains me that I wasn't with him when he died. I still remember the hospice nurse telling me that he chose that time so that I wouldn't have to watch him go. But I felt like he was with me in those minutes at the cemetery today. And I do think he still watches over me and Melissa and all his family.

Aubrey Mae's arrival

Aubrey Mae Wehr
Born 1:08 pm, Central time, Friday, August 13, 2010
8 pounds, 8 ounces, 21 inches long
a little bit of hair the color of Melissa's
dark eyes

What do you do when you get a call on August 12 at mid-day and the whispering voice says, "Mom! Get in the car now!" You scramble to finish the laundry you were doing for the Iowa trip that was supposed to happen on August 20, gather everything you've been thinking you'll take along, load up the car, get on the road, and 8 hours 45 minutes later, pull into Melissa and Mark's driveway at 10 pm Central time.

I last reported on the problems Melissa was having--the extreme low blood sugars she was having a hard time controlling and the low amniotic fluid levels. She had ultrasounds on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday (August 9, 10, and 12). On Thursday, the doctor said rather than be concerned about Melissa struggling to control her blood sugar through the weekend and possibly missing a sign of fetal distress, it was better to move the C-section up from its scheduled August 23 date. The baby was considered full term even though Melissa's due date was August 29. There wasn't enough amniotic fluid to do an amniocentesis to check the baby, so the C-section was scheduled for Friday, August 13, at noon. It actually happened an hour later because of having to wait for the doctor who was delivering a natural birth.

Imagine how big Aubrey might have been had she actually come on her due date! Melissa said she seemed little compared to Will, who was a full pound heavier at birth. But still, Aubrey was a good-sized newborn--and she looked so much like Will did at birth. It remains to be seen if she'll keep that reddish tinge to her hair or become really blonde like Will is. And as for being born on Friday, the 13th, so was Melissa. She always considered 13 her lucky number as do I. She had even said to me earlier in the week that she'd like for the baby to be born on the 13th and then everybody would be fine and healthy.

The name Aubrey was one Melissa and Mark just liked, and the middle name Mae is a contraction of my middle name (Marie) and Mark's mother's middle name (Rae). They had also considered naming the baby Katherine and calling her Kate, but upon seeing her in the delivery room, they both had the same thought: This isn't a Kate, this is Aubrey.

This birth was so different for the grandparents. With Will, we all waited in the waiting area, occasionally someone brought in food, and we worried and paced through the 10 hours of labor and the resulting C-section, then waited a couple of hours to get the news from Mark. With Aubrey, we all gathered in Melissa's room, watched her walk to surgery, sat around drinking coffee and chatting, and were so relaxed when Mark came in and said, "We have our girl!"

Melissa was awake for the C-section and insisted that she go back on her insulin pump right after the delivery. There were a few hours of concern about Aubrey's blood sugar. It was low right from the time of delivery. However, by giving her formula every few hours, it slowly came up and finally got into the normal range. She never did have to go to neonatal intensive care.

Mark stayed at the hospital all three nights that Melissa and Aubrey were there. He came home at 8 each evening to put Will to bed, which was a good idea for Will's comfort because he was visibly concerned and confused about Mommy going into the hospital. I stayed at home with him at night, and he was fine each morning. I loved the way he would run into the kitchen when he got up and hug my legs and yell, "Grammy!" On one morning, however, he got out of bed way too early and came into his parents' bedroom where I was sleeping, though actually I was awake and heard him. I waited to see if he would go back to bed on his own. When he didn't, I opened my eyes. There he stood, holding his Toy Story Woody character in one hand and Buzz Lightyear in the other, all three of them just staring at me. It was hard not to laugh. We spent our days visiting in the hospital where there was a steady stream of visitors as well as all the grandparents.

The day of discharge, Monday, August 16, Aubrey was 7 pounds, 11 ounces. Will waited impatiently for Mommy and Aubrey. We made a welcome sign that we put on the fireplace mantle, we played outside, drew a welcome sign on the driveway with chalk, blew bubbles. Finally, Aubrey was home. Will immediately helped Mark take her into the house. Will is so good with her, giving her gentle kisses often. He loves to hold her--for about 30 seconds. He's always asking her to play with him, so Melissa lays her on the floor on a blanket so Aubrey can "watch."

I drove home on Wednesday, August 25. The next day at her two-week checkup, Aubrey was up to 8 pounds, 11 ounces, and 21 1/2 inches long. I was so busy while in Iowa with cooking and cleaning, doing laundry, playing with Will and getting acquainted with Aubrey, grocery shopping, etc., that when I got home I couldn't remember what my routine was supposed to be. I did take the day before I left to do a little shopping. I went to Czech Village, which still needs to do so much to recover from the floods. So many homes are abandoned, some are being rebuilt, some stores have reopened but many are empty. I had a long conversation with the owner of a gift shop I always go to, and he showed me a slide show of the photos he took of his shop and the area. Such devastation! His was the first store to be able to re-open in December 2009. In the afternoon, I went out to Main Amana in the Amana Colonies. Since I was driving for this Iowa trip, I could bring back some things that I can't get when I fly--namely, two six-packs of Millstream Brewing Company beer and six sample bottles of wine from the Ackerman Winery. I'm anticipating a tasting party at my house with my friends soon.

Now the Wehr household has birthdays to celebrate in June (Mark), July (Melissa), August (Aubrey), and September (Will). And Will even recites those birthday months if you ask him to.

An extra note: My Hearts friend Ruth Ann got engaged last week. A few months ago, she got re-acquainted with a guy she dated a few times in high school. They basically hadn't seen each other in 55 years! Her husband died three years ago a month before Ed; his wife died in January. She is giddy and excited like a teenager in love. I'm so happy for her, a little jealous that she has found such happiness again, and a little sad that I've lost my lunching-out buddy. We had lunch on the Monday before I went to Iowa (actually, on my wedding anniversary, as I said in my August 9 post). At that time, she was still being "courted," but I wasn't really surprised that they became engaged because she obviously really cares for this guy and he for her. Brings to mind the lyrics from an old Air Supply song: In my life when everything was wrong, something finally went right. Now there's two less lonely people in the world tonight.

Our 24th anniversary

I ask again, does one celebrate a wedding anniversary when only one remains? I didn't have an answer for that question last year, and I still don't. But our anniversary has been on my mind for several days. Now and then, I've shed a few tears. My friend Ruth Ann wanted us to go to lunch, so I picked today for that, figuring I might need a friend.

As it turned out, a small concern with Melissa's pregnancy that turned up in an ultrasound today supplanted my "feeling sorry for myself" thoughts. After hearing that the amniotic fluid is low and if it stays low, Melissa's C-section will happen sooner than August 23, I swung into action. I began to get things together that I want to take with me when I drive to Iowa for the new baby's birth. I want to be able to leave at a moment's notice if necessary. If things get better for Melissa and the baby, I'll stay with my plan to drive out to Iowa on August 20.

So getting things together for the trip and getting the lawn mowed has kept me occupied ever since I got home from lunch with Ruth Ann--probably a good thing on this anniversary day.

Another birthday passes

Today would have been Ed's 75th birthday. I know I've said it this way before, but it still does not seem possible that it has been 3 years since he died. My friend Ruth Ann from my Hearts group said recently that she thinks she and I will always feel like a piece of us is missing, that from all our stories of our lives with our spouses, we two had the best marriages and a closeness and love that surpassed what others of our group had. I would say that usually the days leading up to June 16, the anniversary of Ed's death, or other significant dates have been emotionally worse than the actual day. Today, however, I have been feeling the loneliness and, really, still the feeling of unfairness that he was taken too soon. For June 16 and again for today, I put a dozen red roses, Ed's favorite flower, at his gravesite. They don't really last long because of the heat this time of year, even though I check them and water them every day that they still look decent. It's just sort of my visible tribute to him, even if I'm the only one who sees it.

Two Hearts friends, Pam and Pat, were married in May. It was a lovely wedding. Our group especially appreciated the tributes Pam and Pat each paid to their deceased spouses. I came up with the idea for and coordinated our gifts to the newlyweds. My friend Cheryl hand-painted lovely floral designs on cards that allowed us each to write our own sentiments inside, then we each enclosed a Bob Evans gift card--so appropriate since we still get together for supper every Wednesday at the same Bob Evans we started going to back when we were in the grief support group. Pam and Pat were sure we would do something raunchy or embarrassing as a gift, and they were so thrilled--and relieved--at what we did.

I was in Iowa in the days around Memorial Day to help Melissa, Mark, and Will move into and get settled in their new home. They have a beautiful, spacious house with a very large yard. There was already a two-level playhouse, slide, climbing wall, and swing set in the yard, and Will loves it. Now when I visit, I have my own bedroom and bathroom. Will loves the Chicago Cubs colors of his bedroom, and the new baby's room is awaiting the new arrival in August.

Other than driving out to Iowa for the new baby's birth, I don't have any summer plans. Just taking each day as it comes, keeping up the property and house, taking advantage of free outdoor concerts for entertainment, and of course gathering with my friends.

How the mind works

I wouldn't have thought the subconscious mind could bring memories to the forefront so vividly just because another page turned on the calendar. Today is 3 years since we first realized something was wrong with Ed. Last weekend I was in Iowa for a 4-day visit, checking in on and helping out Melissa, mainly. She is having a rough time with nausea during this pregnancy. (If you haven't heard by now, Melissa and Mark are expecting August 29.) Three years ago, Ed and I made the trip to Iowa to help paint the newly finished basement, the very family room that becomes my bedroom when I'm there. I looked at those painted walls last weekend, but it didn't trigger the emotions and tears that seeing today's date on the calendar has triggered. I described what happened to make us notice a problem with Ed's gait when I wrote in the blog on March 6, 2008, so I won't repeat it all here. I just didn't expect it to all come back and hit me so hard again.

I do have some pleasant events to report on since I last wrote on Christmas Eve. The Giesman gathering here on January 1 was a success. The gifts of digital photo frames that I loaded with memorable photos tailored to each recipient were a huge hit and caused much laughter among the young adult grandkids as they saw photos of their parents at their age. Almost everybody was here. Sherry and Jeremy had already visited me Christmas Day. A couple older grandkids didn't make it, nor did David and family who were vacationing in Florida, but everyone else seemed to enjoy being together. I went to Iowa January 7-12 and Christmas there was January 9. Will had so many Christmas celebrations spread out over 2 1/2 weeks' time that he must have thought Santa visits every few days whether you've been good or not.

I wasn't assigned to the late January-early February SAT essays, which disappointed me. However, I will be working on them in March. Since I had some time with no commitments, I went to Stuart, Florida (actually the community of Sewall's Point on the Indian River and intercoastal waterway) for 4 days at the invitation of my cousin Judi and her husband Frank. The weather never got warmer than the mid 60s; nevertheless, the sunshine felt good. Judi and I hadn't had time together since we were teenagers, so we had a lot of catching up to do. Between their beautiful home, the sun, the sounds of the ocean, long walks in the area and on the beach, and Judi's delicious cooking and baking, I felt like I was at a resort enjoying some much-appreciated relaxation. I didn't give all the snow and ice back in Columbus a thought, even though I had to snowblow my way out of my driveway to get to the airport to start the trip.

I got back from Florida late on a Friday night, and on Saturday morning I received an e-mail alert about an airfare deal to Cedar Rapids. So five days later I was on a flight again. Turned out the weather in Iowa was better than what Columbus was having. Now, finally, we have some warmer days and sunshine that will get rid of the mounds of snow. It has been a particularly snowy winter, and I've used the snowblower a lot to keep my driveway and sidewalks clear along with those of three neighbors.

I'm still dealing with my eyes, although at my last checkup two weeks ago, finally the ophthalmologist said things look much better. He had to search for inflamed cells; a normal exam might even have missed them. I'm still on steroid drops once a day and artificial tears every three hours or so. I regained some of the distance vision I had lost, something I noticed in about the last month. My close-up vision is unbelievably good. Mid-range distance is sometimes good and sometimes a little blurred, further proof that it can take 6 to 12 months until your vision finally settles down and your brain has fully learned to accommodate the Crystalens implants.

Next weekend I'll be driving over to Virginia to see my mother and sister and family. I haven't been there in quite a while. Then I'll be going back to Iowa for Easter.

Tomorrow, my Hearts group is having a farewell party for Mary, who is moving back to Wisconsin to be near her daughter and two sisters. She is the first of the Hearts to move away. Her stepchildren don't want her to go. (She has lived here 30 years and is very close to her stepchildren; they have been so good to her in the past 2 years since her husband died.) However, Mary says she feels a pull to go back to Wisconsin. I haven't had that experience, feeling pulled to move somewhere. The other good news from the group is that Pat and Pam, who've been part of the Hearts from the beginning and started dating almost 2 years ago, are getting married in May. I have a hard time wrapping my brain around the idea of marrying again, but I'm happy for the two of them, of course.

Christmas Eve, December 24, 2009

And so this is Christmas, as the song says. It's a very different one for me. As I write this I'm alone, I have no place to go tonight (Christmas Eve) except to church later for midnight Mass, and tomorrow I'm joining two friends to go to an afternoon movie followed by dinner out. I have never had a Christmas like this before. No cooking, no baking, no multitude of visitors or going to people's houses, no traveling. I did have two visitors, however.

Sherry (Ed's daughter) and Jeremy (grandson), who live in St. Louis, visited this afternoon for about 1 1/2 hours; that was nice. Never fear, I haven't been a hermit. The days leading up to today have taken me out to places for shopping and, the last two nights, dinner out with friends. Sunday, December 20, was a really good day with my Hearts group coming over to decorate the tree (I did decorate the house this year), sing around the piano with me accompanying, and have lots of great food and drink and conversation and laughs. They are such dear people. Going back to last week, I worked on SAT essays Monday through Friday. For the long weekend of December 10-14, Melissa, Mark, and Will were here to help me celebrate my 60th birthday. That Saturday night, some of the Giesman kids and grands as well as a couple neighbors came over for birthday cake. While M & M & Will were here, we went to the Columbus Zoo to see the holiday lights that covered nearly every inch of the place, it seemed. Will also sat on Santa's lap--Santa just happened to be visiting the guard house at the entrance to my street. We got the platform out and set up the Lionel train (my first Christmas present when I was 11 days old), and as I expected, Will loved it. So of course we had to put the tree in place, too--which sat rather bare until my friends and I decorated it.

Despite all the activity in the past two weeks, it is very quiet in the house now. I've left all my gift wrapping chores go since the Giesman gathering won't be until January 1, here at the house, and our Christmas in Iowa will be sometime when I'm there January 7-12. I figured on filling the upcoming days with gift wrapping and preparing for the January events. Since I've gotten out only about half of the Christmas cards I usually send, I'll work on the rest of those Christmas morning. (Better they get out late than never.)

So it's a different Christmas this year. Not awful, just different. Kinda takes some getting used to.