For days that we don’t have a posting assignment on Blogging 101, I will sometimes be writing on the theme suggested for the day on The Daily Post. Today’s theme is “Memory on the Menu” which dovetails nicely with my tagline, “Capturing Moments That Are Gone Forever”.
On some days joyous memories would be the first to come to mind, but today they are more nostalgic as I have experienced loss in several different forms recently and have been feeling somewhat sad. I will be sharing a little bit about three of these people and why they are no longer in my life.
Lottie was my husband’s aunt. She died in May at age 91. Lottie emigrated to the U.S. from Germany via England in the early 1940’s. She met and married my husband’s uncle Morris in San Francisco and they had three children. Lottie was a very kind and thoughtful person and a real lady. She was very special to us. During her last years, after Morris died, we were her only relatives who lived close by so we tried to visit often. Until the day she died she wanted to be sure everyone else was o.k. and put others before herself.
Morris and Lottie collected fine are and silver, especially Judaica. I now have a very interesting silver seder plate in my china cabinet to remind me of the many holidays that we spent at their home.
Nate just moved out of his home on our block a week ago. He was the original owner and had been in the house for over 60 years and our neighbor for over 40! He cared for his wife, who had Alzheimer’s, for ten years until she died a few years ago. Nate is a tiny, somewhat frail, man with a perpetually upbeat attitude. A few months ago Nate fell and broke his hip. He recovered well, but he and his children decided that it was time for him to go to an assisted living facility. I am told that he is happy and making new friends, which makes me very happy. I walk past Nate’s house at least once, sometimes twice, a day with my dog. He often waved at me from the window or we chatted if he happened to be outside.
The house has already been listed for sale and staged. There will be an open house tomorrow. This makes me nostalgic because it screams at me, “We can’t we keep change from happening and time from marching on even if we would like to stop the clock yesterday”?
Linda was my best friend growing up. My memories are of talking all through Sunday School class and getting in trouble with the teacher, shopping for matching camp clothes together, being inseparable at summer camp, many, many hours spent at each other’s houses, double dating to the prom and many, many more.
Linda had a difficult life after we finished school. Her personal situation required that she move far away and literally “drop off the face of the earth” for maybe fifteen years, so we lost touch. About four years ago I received a phone call out of the blue. A mutual friend had found her through social media and immediately hopped on his motorcycle and went to see her. They called me that night.
Linda and I exchanged phone calls and emails for a few weeks and I insisted that we meet and spend a couple of days together. I flew to Seattle and she came from her home in Bellingham and we stayed in a hotel for just one night and two days. As we sat cross-legged on our beds in the hotel room, the years melted away and we talked and talked for hours. It was a wonderful reunion.
That was in 2011. Linda had been ill before we reconnected and had several serious setbacks after we saw each other. Sometimes she was in touch and sometimes she could not be reached. The last time I actually talked to her was a year ago. I knew I needed to try again to reach her, but before I could I received an email from a classmate that she had learned, by searching on social media, that Linda passed away last December. The few of us who had been in touch felt awful, but her daughter, the only person who would have had our contact information, did not let any of us know. I am truly grateful that we did have the opportunity to spend the time in Seattle together. I know that she loved our visit!