I was thinking that September has just arrived; however, since this column will be printed on Sept. 14, I have to admit that in fact, September is half way gone. So far much of it has been spent relaxing and starting new projects at home.
A couple of days was spent Up North, at Camp Luther, with more than 100 other women for a retreat. The theme was “God with Us Then, Now and Forever.” Not only did we get time to renew old friendships and spend some time mentoring each other, we also had time to relax in the beautiful Northwoods, near Three Lakes. I never once looked at my cell phone.
A highlight of the retreat was a humorous speaker who shared his adventures of becoming a Lutheran School teacher, but he also told us about his numerous mission trips to Ghana.
This retreat always brings back two rather sad memories. One is that I was at the retreat on 9-11-01, when the terrorist attacks happened, and it seemed our world changed. I remember how we all grew together and built each other up in Christian love.
The other memory is 2004, when my husband of 35 years passed away two days after returning from that annual retreat. The last lunch shared at Camp Luther, with fellow friends from northern Wisconsin, my dear friend Betty asked me if I thought my farmer husband would ever retire. That was Thursday at noon. I said I didn’t think so, but I hoped he would slow down.
Well, Saturday afternoon, Sept. 18, 2004, my farmer husband retired. He was called to his eternal home in heaven.
I have always loved autumn, but September is a bittersweet time for me. Twelve years ago, our country was changed forever. Nine years ago, my life was changed forever.
The day was so normal, I even remember what we ate on our last meal together. When he left the house, I had fallen asleep, tired from being away at camp. A short time later, the phone rang, my sister-in-law telling me to come to the farm.
I traveled the short distance from where we lived to the main farm, and joined with his brother in doing CPR. However, my farmer husband’s heart had stopped, and he was now with Jesus.
Knowing that does help, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss him. He was such a large part of my life, more than I knew. If you still have your sweetheart near, give him/her a hug, a kiss, a thanks for being who you are. This goes for parents, siblings, children, grandchildren, friends, all those you care about.
I can state that one never knows when the last time will be to say I love you.
Meanwhile, life does go on, those nine years have flown past, and everything about my life has changed. This week, I started a quilting project for a wedding gift for a grandson’s wedding in January.
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