Memories

Every once in a while I look at the family picture taken as we celebrated a lot of October birthdays and anniversaries on October 8, 2005. Betty (the wife) and Jimmy (son) were still living, and we had a glorious celebration with all the family and many extended family. Betty died shortly after in December of leukemia, and Jimmy died from a lung cancer he had been fighting for a number of years the following August.

I have spent most of this morning listening to a couple of CD's nephew Mark made at the time of our birthdays in October (mine on the 15th hers on the 16th), and in late November in the Hospital. (Less than a week before her death.) I listen to these recordings from time to time just to hear that beautiful well modulated voice, and to hear her chuckle and at times laugh uproariously. I often think of that voice when I have to listen to some female TV announcer with a high pitched nasal twang.

I can listen now without to much grief, but I do miss her. Just today I noticed how many blooms are on the roses in front of the house. I can't bring you a rose, my dear. "Oh, relax," I hear her say. "I can see them from up here. They are lovely," And last night I noticed the single bloom on one of her African Violets. A single bloom just as she was the single beauty in my own life. I love you, dear, and I miss you still.