Thank you very, very much for all the support you have given me at this most difficult time. If you left a message here, made mention of my loss on your blog, or said a silent prayer or sent good thoughts my way, I appreciate all of it.Original post:
The funeral service was held on Monday. I found this short poem at a place called Backyard Gardener and had it read at the service. It seems appropriate to how I feel right now.
I've had the garden tidied up,
As she would have me do.
This little pal who couldn't stay
To see the season through.
The flowers were her dearest friends,
The garden was her own,
I've watched her work, but never knew
The things that she had grown.
Her catalogues keep coming, and
Her garden magazine;
I run across the queerest names,
And study what they mean,
I read them all, from end to end,
And when the spring is here,
I'll have a garden just like hers,
As though my wife were near.
-Albert H. Pedrick
Appropriately, Lambert also left this comment: "Make sure to spend time in the sun. I started gardening when my Mother died. It helped."
The last morning Peggy and I spent together we went out to water the Royal Empress trees she had planted alongside the driveway. As we finished, she turned to me, held me close, and with tears in her eyes said "Please don't let my trees die!" I was quite surprised by this - I figured she'd be around to take care of them for many years - but I replied, "Of course I won't let them die!"
There is so much to do now, so much more to learn. I cannot let her trees die.
We get wrapped up in the temporal, the mundane, the "issues of the day", in politics, and sometimes we forget that we all are, first and foremost, people. Not liberals or conservatives, Democrats or Republicans, but people.
And we think that should give us some common ground, but sometimes we forget that. Or maybe others do, to our annoyance.
But meanwhile, shit happens. To nice people. Dr. Sardonicus is a guy I added to the blogroll some time ago, and he was quick to reciprocate. As is often the case, I don't even remember what part of the country he lives in, but I knew that we saw a lot of things the same way, based on his fine writing.
But last week he got hit with a bolt of lightning I would never wish for anyone, enemy or friend, opponent or supporter, fellow human:
My wife Peggy, known as Mrs. S. in these parts, passed away in her sleep late this afternoon. She was only 48 years old.
Peggy had little use for the internets, except for Netflix, but she always appreciated the kind words of encouragement and support you gave her here. As I have said, I don't have the most readers in the blogosphere, but I have the best.
Activities at Pole Hill are suspended for the time being. I will return to blogging as I am able.
I think he could use a little love now. Maybe it will even help.
(h/t Sailor, thanks)