New Year's Never Came

My thoughts lie with Anna and the memories of her life yet again today, and now too the memories of her passing.

It doesn't seem so long ago that you drove me to Moyer's Nursery, because I couldn't see. and now today I watched your eyes close for the last time.  So many thoughts and memories run through my mind as the hours of my life continue on this journey that you have finished.  I hope that I was in some way a blessing to you as you were to me.  That was just this past spring you know, and just this week I passed by Moyer's and saw they were having a Christmas open house next weekend.  I thought of you and wished that we could go together.  Though I knew you were getting weaker, that you would most likely never regain your strength to what it was before, I still dreamed, hoped, wanted to plan things.  We used to talk about how we would get together at your new home, but we only had this once, and it is not what we dreamed of, not what we planned.  I am so glad that God saw it fit that I had a crockpot of taco soup today, it was my last chance to cook for you, though not really for you, there in your new home.  I was still looking forward to that "Last Train Out of Paris",  we said after the summer, it was too busy, then fall came and it just didn't work, we talked about New Year's, but in the back of my mind I started to realize New Year's was too far away, and I began to think if there was anyway to do it sooner.  Then this week, I didn't even want to say the name, I didn't want a last anything.  I bought it because of the Paris, it sounded so fun, but then all I would think about was the last train, and I thought why did I buy that one.  New Year's never came.  I will put it back in the closet, back on the shelf.

New Year's.  I'll miss our New Year's parties.  I am glad we got to do the Super Bowl Bash.  Joe was so excited about that, all the great foods we were going to have, and we did.  But do you remember, you had to leave before the end of the game.  Off to Aultman, just couldn't get the breathing under control.  I remember the first ball game I watched at your place, it was when you lived in Massillon.  You cooked a fabulous meal, sorry I can't remember what it was, but it was a foodie's meal - then again, when isn't it with us.  I think it must of been a Penn State game.  And I'm pretty sure it was when I didn't have my license, because I remember Joe driving me home.

I remember visiting you at Goshen.  Janelle and I came out, we had quite the adventures that weekend. If I remember correctly your gas pedal would stick, made for interesting driving.  We went to an international dinner at some cabin there, and I remember eating the hottest food I ever ate.  I remember it was so hot, that it was like it was numb to heat and I could taste the flavors outside the heat.  We tried to cook Sunday dinner, but the fuse on the oven wasn't working, so we took it to someone else's house to cook, in your car with the sticking gas pedal, another interesting ride.  We made green beans and potatoes on the stove top.  The bean's were boiling, steam coming out of the pot.  We were all studying, till we smelled something hot, burning.  Checked the beans first, but they were fine.  Looked at the potatoes and then lifted the pot and ...uhh...the potatoes fell out of the bottom of the pot.  That is the only time I have ever seen a pot melt.  Oops.  

I remember going to an Over the Rhine concert at Malone, as we sat there, passing the time, I remember writing a story - the little tractor that could.  Putt, Putt, Putt, Putt, fast as fast can be you'll never catch me.  I wish I would have kept a copy of it.  I wish you were here, I just had a memory.  One I can't quite remember.  Was it you I used to tell those stories to on the phone, the one's about Blackie and the Three Rabbits, or was that my sister, or was it Blackie and the three worms.  What ever the case, it had a twist no one suspected.  If it was you, you probably just wanted to talk to my sister, I am not sure why I was monopolizing the phone, so it probably was Janelle.  However, if not, you would have liked the story....well except for maybe the end.  Who am I going to write witty things to.  When I get a creative inspiration, who can send something to, that won't just say, what's this, why is she sending me such a strange package, or some silly picture from the fair.  I knew whatever I would send you, you would appreciate it and you would get it.  I didn't have to be the best at anything, didn't have to be perfect, I could just be me.  You recognized my painting and you liked it.  i am not a painter, it was just something I did one week.  It didn't matter.  You had Van Gogh, Monet, and other's on your wall, but you liked my painting too, maybe not the same, but it meant something, and there is sat on the desk.  My fall parties didn't have to be perfect, my New Year's parties didn't have to have a TV, but they were yearly traditions, things we looked forward to, things we longed for.  

Do you remember the party we had in high school or college, I can't quite remember.  We sat around my parent's kitchen table and played games by candle light.  I think we were supposed to watch a movie, but the power was out.  I don't entirely remember what we did, I just remember we had a grand time.  I remember getting stuck in your drive way one winter, together we got me out.  I think it was after you had cancer, I could be wrong.  I just remember I felt really bad having to ask you to help me, but we did it.  I remember you sending Thomas to help me last winter, when I got stuck in my driveway.  I remember riding my bike to the chicken house one night and staying till after dark, I had lights on my bike, but you wanted to make sure I didn't mind and felt comfortable for that short trip home.  I did and I made it.  I remember you inviting me some holidays to come join you and your family.  I remember last Christmas day, going to Les Miserables.  I remember you joining our many holiday cook outs.  I always love those cookouts, always so much food.  Thanks mom!  

Do you remember this spread?

Oh those fabulous ribs.

I guess it was bocce we played.

And I remember your wedding.  I am so glad I went to your wedding, even if it was an unusual 90 degree day in Portland, in a backyard with little shade.  I remember going to your bachelorette party at Multnomah Falls, I remember feeling like Janelle's little sister, but you and your friend's accepted me as I was.  Anna I will miss you.  I know I didn't always come over, I didn't always send things, but I always knew you were there.  Just today when I was in your home.  I saw the bowl, at least I think it was the bowl, the one I sent from Charles Dickens, the one from Oliver.  I remember Joe asking me something about Pip and tried to act all confused, but I think you knew, because I remember being at your house and I had forgotten about it, and said that is a neat bowl, where did you get it and you said I believe you gave to me.  I don't remember, what all I sent you those days.  I think I sent you honey from Pooh, and mittens from the Three Little Kittens, and who knows what else.  I had so much fun coming up with things.  Did you know, if I could make it to the post office early enough, it would be same day delivery.  I did that with the last box I sent you, I hope you liked it, I know you didn't NaNoWriMo this month, but I think if you would have had strength and energy, it was in your heart.  For me, you and Janelle are synonymous with NaNoWriMo, that's just how it is.

So i know you can never read this, but this is for me, for me to reflect, for me to find words to say what I can never seem to say with my mouth, when I find it so hard to cry, it is my chance to cry - to cry for happy memories and memories that will never be.  I pray if you've made it this far, I haven't bored you.

Now my journey goes on.  May I accept people for who they are, encourage them, and make them feel special, just as you were so good at.  Both you and Joe.

The lovely and beautiful, both inside and out, Anna and Joe.