Before you knew it, the kids graduated high school, and then college, and then they were gone as quickly as they had arrived.  Ray went into the army and became an officer and a fine –clean –gentleman.  Jennie always liked the violin, and spent many years touring with a popular orchestra.

After Harry

Harry died in 1975 from a heart attack.  My son and daughter helped me through some tough times.  I was lost without my husband and best friend Harry, but I finally got back to my old self and started working in a travel agency.  Harry and I loved to travel, and I thought this would be a great way to satisfy my wanderlust, and make a little money besides. 

It wasn’t long before I bought into the agency and later became its sole owner.  I was well into my 70’s by that time, so I started to book senior bus trips to New York City to visit Radio City Music Hall, and to Portland, Maine for lobster feasts.  My greatest problem with running senior bus trips was keeping the clients from stealing all the napkins, ashtrays, and artificial sweeteners from the restaurants we visited along the way.

I attended a number of funerals in the coming years.  Then I stopped attending them.  Everyone was gone – except me. 

I decided to take it easy, and sold my travel agency on my 85th birthday. 

Two years ago, I had a stroke.  I was living independently in a little condominium just two miles from my son and daughter-in-law.  It’s difficult to explain how I feel now.  I used to be so active.  I loved my daily walks to the market to cash in all my freshly cut coupons.  The cashiers used to joke that they would owe me money by the time I was done doing my shopping!  Now I get so dizzy at the slightest effort. 

It became obvious that I could no longer depend on my body to help me move about without the aid of a walker.  I also needed to move to a place where there were no stairs.  My son sold my delightful little two-bedroom condominium where I had lived for 14 wonderful years.  He and my daughter-in-law helped me find a nice assisted living facility that wasn’t too far away.  I had to downsize everything.  My new home is very pleasant, and the food is good, but I have only one room, and I miss so many of my belongings.

My daughter-in-law is an angel.  I don’t know what I would do without her.  She and my son visit me two or three times a week, and I usually have Sunday dinner at their house.  I can still get in and out of an automobile, but I wonder how much longer that will be possible.

There are activities where I live, but I don’t feel much like participating.  I can’t hear, and I can’t see very well.  I’d rather sit and reminisce about Harry and our friends.  I think about our high school’s sporting events, the summer breeze at the Lakewood dances, listening attentively to the war news on the radio, and picking those delicious huckleberries in the hills around our town. 

I also think about our kids, and how we worried and quietly prayed throughout the summer months when children came down with the dreaded Polio.  We were so lucky and grateful that our kids were healthy, when so many others suffered so terribly.

Until recently, I could look at my wedding pictures.  I can still touch the picture of Harry in his coveralls and bowtie without a shirt.  He was so tall and tan, and grinning from ear to ear.  We couldn’t afford a wedding dress, so I wore a white sheet.  In place of a veil, I put hay in my hair.  We were surrounded by our friends and laughter.  I can still hear the laughter, but all the smiling faces are long gone.

Now I spend my days right here in this comfortable old chair by the window.  I think about driving backwards to the cemetery -and other important things that happened in my life.  I can feel myself smile – then I slowly fall asleep.  I wonder when I will see Harry again.