We are born for a higher destiny than that of earth; there is a realm where the rainbow never fades, where the stars will be spread before us like islands that slumber on the ocean, and where the beings that pass before us like shadows will stay in our presence forever.
~ Edward Bulwer-Lytton
Yesterday was the one year anniversary of your death. It was a sad day. Not as sad as the actual day itself, but still very sad. I miss you. My brothers and sister miss you. Your grandchildren miss you. Most of all, Dad misses you. It’s a strange world without you in it. There’s still a hole there where you used to be.
The past year has gone by more quickly than I would have expected. It’s true what they say: Life goes on. The best examples of that are my grandchildren who are growing up so quickly it almost makes my head spin. Emma is five years old now. Maddy is one. They are beautiful little girls. But you already know that. I am glad you had the chance to meet them before you died. I wish they had had more time to get to know you.
Since you left us we’ve been through three seasons — winter, spring, and summer. Now here we are back at almost-autumn again. Winter was, as usual here in the Bogs, cold and snowy. Spring passed through in a hurry so that summer could arrive early. The harvest this year is amazing. The vegetables and fruit have all ripened earlier than usual and have been incredibly vibrant and tasty. As one of the folks at Hilgert’s said, it’s been a good growing season.
I remember how you used to freeze some of the vegetables from your garden. The most vivid memory of that is the year the freezer in the basement lost power. I don’t remember if the freezer died or if it was a long power outage (Hurricane Agnes maybe?). What I do remember is you spending the day cooking all the food from the freezer before it thawed completely. We feasted on some of it and the rest, I think, you were able to refreeze after you had cooked it.
I processed a lot of veggies this season. Broccoli, tomatoes, green and yellow beans, peppers, and probably a few other things. Yesterday I made a homemade version of spicy V8 juice. It is remarkably delicious. To be honest, it surprised me. I’ve tried making tomato juice in the past and it was a disaster in terms of flavor and texture. Too pulpy or something. Anyhow, the vegetable juice turned out well. I wish you were here to try it. But then, I’m not sure if you liked V8 juice. Or tomato juice, for that matter. I feel like I should know that. Perhaps I did know at one time and it’s one of the many things that I have forgotten as life fills my head with other memories.
I’ve been thinking about taking up crocheting again. I haven’t done it in a long time. But I am pretty sure I still remember the basics that you taught me. I still have the lacy tablecloth you started for me. I’d like to learn how to do that again so I can finish it. It is a beautiful piece of work. I don’t know that my talents will be up to it, but I would like to give it a try. I wish you were here to help me out with it.
There is a lot more I could write to you about, but I am finding it difficult to ramble on the way I usually do. The words don’t seem to want to form. Besides, I really just wanted to say that I miss you. I still have moments of wanting to pick up the phone to call and ask you about something or to tell you the latest news, forgetting that you won’t be there to answer (and wouldn’t it be a shocker if you did!). I guess it will be like that for a long time.
Miss you, Mom.