Two weeks ago, Delightfully Honest appeared for your reading pleasure. I shared a few experiences regarding my dear forever wedded friends Ralph and Mary. Keeping a love connection for over 60 years, they continue to amaze and humor me with their timely advice, knowledge and honesty.  I keep in touch as we often celebrate lunch and meaningful conversation. Most of the time, that is……..

Recently we shared a day out by running errands and finishing up with lunch at a local Mom and Pop. Ralph was sure to don his well-worn “Korea Veteran” cap. “I served, you know. This hat here has given me lots of conversation with strangers, but better yet, I sometimes get my meal paid for! Can’t beat that!”  Oh Ralph, you are such a clever chap! Thank you for your service.

Sara, a lovely hostess seated us. She thanked Ralph for his service and further explained that her grandpa had also served in Korea. Ralph was in conversation heaven as he blossomed. While the bragging commenced, Mary provided her complimentary wink and smile. Now that’s true love!

Orders were taken as we sipped our beverages. Mary and I were discussing upcoming Fourth of July plans. Ralph had taken a short pause in conversation. It appeared he was supporting the back of his eyelids every so serenely. As salads arrived, Ralph awoke with a start and did not miss a beat.

There was a young man from Ionia, * Who said to her, “I’ll phone ya”, * But when he did call, * There was no answer at all, * For she had died of old age in Caledonia.”

“How’s that for ya, Francie? Did you like it? You know I make up limericks all the time. I like using cities in MIchigan. “

I shook my head and chuckled, “Well, Ralph that is quite the creative talent you have. How do you remember all these limericks?”

Ralph continued to beam with delight. “What do you think of this one?”

There was a priest of Grand Rapids, * Who had some peculiar habits. * He drank half a beer, * By using his one ear, * And gave the rest to the rabbits. *

With his Walter Mitty persona, Ralph quickly added,  “I know this doesn’t really rhyme, but I’m just paraphrasing here right now. I don’t see the Limerick Police anywhere, so I should be alright.” More chuckles and winks as we paused for lunch.

Continuing to enjoy our eats with a dash of trivial conversation, Ralph added a pun or three for good measure. Mary simply smiled as she searched her food for the best morsels. Waitress Winnie topped our coffees and placed the bill on the table with one last smile. Ralph gently touched her arm and smiled, “One last limerick before I leave. I saved the best for last.”

A famed poet of Kalamazoo * Was paid to write an ad in Haiku. * ‘Tho he wore out his pencil, * His writing utensil, * A limerick was all he could do. *

Winnie, Mary, and I all smiled at Ralph’s last creation.  Once again I was awed. “Mary, how does he do this? His talents are just so spontaneous and witty. Mary, Ralph, you never cease to amaze me.”  

Mary simply raised her eyes from her coffee, topping with a wink. “It’s a deep love Francie. His love is deep in his belly and heart. It’s always there. Yes, it’s just love.” She patted Ralph’s arm, turned to her forever half and gently laid her head on his shoulder.

These two. Always a story, pun, joke, or toast. Now limericks. I am so entertained by these love doves. Nothing is more grand when these two intertwine and grow as one on the vine of life. I hope you realize that I too, love you just as you are:  Mr. and Mrs. Happily Ever After.

Lessons Learned

Love is the greatest gift of all. Despite the trivial bickering now and then, Ralph and Mary are devoted partners for life. They are the gift of hope and endurance.

Thanks for reading!

Through the course of lessons and reflections, I have minimally mentioned my forever hero. With Father’s Day upon us, I cannot think of a more appropriate time and place to honor this man who dedicated himself to family, farm, and fields. Daddy, this tribute is for YOU!

Previous writings have introduced you to my ever-loving family of seven siblings, farm life, and of course, the strongest leader of all, Momma. Where was Daddy in all this calamity and love?  He was on the go! Go tend the fields before dawn. Go milk cows and feed livestock. Go work third shift as a security officer. Go part time to sell tar for roofing projects. Go sell seed corn to local farmers. Go to auction sales for oddities and necessities. Go Daddy Go!  Along with these go, go, go activities, I share with you memories that are deep in my heart.

At the early age of three, Daddy made the TransAtlantic journey with neighbors and limited family to the promised land called America. As was common among poor Eastern European immigrants, full families did not come as one. Daddy arrived with an uncle and momma. Hungarian roots were deep as they bravely welcomed a new life of opportunity and freedom. Settling in central Michigan, male relatives found farm work aplenty.

Successfully learning the blacksmith trade, Daddy became one of the best in his small farming community. Money was saved, thus, he purchased a 160 acre farm that had been lost to the bank. Determination and solid work ethic met luck and opportunity.

Daddy remained single, affable, and respectable as a farmer and blacksmith.  At the “mature” age of 38, he fell in love with a young miss. A short courtship led to marriage. That young love was a vivacious, hard working 18 year old waitress known as Momma.  Dapper, charming and a mere 5’7”, Daddy took Momma, a wholesome 5’ 10” love bird as his forever wife. Love apparently conquered all as Mr. and Mrs. soon began nurturing a loving family and well established farm.

Hungarian roots ran deep for Daddy. Meals on the farm were, for the most part, true  ethnic in nature. Lots of butter, cream, paprika, and names we couldn’t pronounce. Daddy so loved his hunky flavors. Most Sundays our table was set with Chicken Paprikash, baked rice, fresh vegetables and homemade bread.  Fruit or cheese Kolache and Kifli pastries topped dessert. Recordings of Hungarian Rhapsody completed our Sunday feasts.

Daddy had purchased a used “console” stereo and set it squarely in the kitchen. With him sitting at the head, eight little darlings circled the table as Momma led in prayer, “In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost….” Dinners were quiet, comforting, and filling. No need for wine, candles or the like. We were fine dining with paprika, butter, and violins!

Keeping his Hungarian heritage alive, Daddy often corresponded with relatives in other states. When lengthy, unfamiliar letters arrived, Momma would inquire of the news from afar. Daddy’s response never waivered, “Oh, the weather is good, and everyone is healthy.”  Really?! A six to eight page letter to say all that? Momma would giggle, throw her hands up while expressing confusion!

I seldom recall hearing a swear word from Daddy, however, his first language was often used when frustrated.  Never teaching us the word, Hungarian vocabulary erupted when he got angry! As “religious visitors” stopped by with a sermon or two, Daddy honed his non-English skills by speaking his tried and true. Adding a bit of confusion to his face combined with wild body gestures, they exited the farm in a flurry.  Daddy, you were a master with brilliant ignorance!

Another Daddy love was the enjoyment of a Sunday cigar. I so remember those afternoons on a lazy Sunday as Momma would tend to the younger siblings while Daddy took us four older girls for a ride. Often visiting Hungarian friends, he loved bragging on his kidlets. Driving the country roads, he would ever so slowly take in and poof out that sweet cherry exhale. Windows down, invariably, one of us would become nauseous and have to make a quick stop. Special times with Daddy were a rarity, but a true blessing with a touch of cherry smoke!

The assination of President John F. Kennedy brings another vivid memory.  Daddy was a tried and true Democrat, Catholic, and Kennedy supporter. He was devastated at the untimely death of this honorable man. The television was never off as we prepared for the funeral.  Daddy took time to polish all of our shoes. We readied ourselves as if going to church. Somber and orderly, he sat us on the couch facing the black and white. In his Sunday suit with rosary wrapped in his hands, Daddy squeezed between us.

The funeral was dark. It was slow. It was sorrowful. My Daddy prayed.  My Daddy wept. And wept. November 25, 1963, a day I will never forget.

Lastly, my ultimate ever-stained memory began on the hot, humid, Wednesday of August 9, 1967. Daddy left his loving family, farm, and fields with little warning.  A massive stroke had sealed his fate. Momma was left with eight children ages seven to sixteen, a farm filled with livestock and crops that needed harvesting. By the grace of God, our neighbors, and relatives, we survived and flourished. This day continues to be yesterday in me.

Never a cross word.  Never walking away. Work had to be done as he was often short on sleep.  No one left without being helped. He was a true giver, not a taker. He was a friend to all and treated everyone equally. Daddy was compassionate and truly loved. My forever hero. Ever so loving and always on the go.

Daddy, this tribute is long overdue. You will remain in my heart as a man of dignity, spiritedness, wit, and respect. Go Daddy, Go…Heaven is a better place because of you!

Lessons Learned

Everyone has a father, but not everyone has a Daddy.  My memories are of fun, family, and Daddy’s ever present love. From sharing his lunchbox, riding the tractor, or rubbing his bald head, Daddy was my strength and idol.

Love is love, is love, is love.  Although my time with Daddy was short, his love is deep, purposeful, and ever present in my full heart and soul.  

Thanks for reading!

Call them polished eccentrics. Call them aged forerunners. I’m in love with a pair of cool cats in their nineties! Forever married, Ralph and  Mary have been dear friends of mine for years. Both are witty, well-educated, intelligent, and delightfully honest. Today I share my chapter in their ever so adventurous lives. First, a little background.

I have known these love bugs for over 40 years. Mary and I worked closely in the school setting as she was our school psychologist. Professional in every way, together we discussed the many special needs students and their emotional and or academic needs to succeed. Ralph, her forever spouse, is a wonderful friend and support to his lovely and myself.

As I relocated to the western side of Michigan, so too did Ralph and Mary. It’s been easy to keep in touch and remain great friends. With aging and circumstance, Mary has lost a large percent of her vision. Combined with Mary’s fragile physical state and significant hearing loss, driving privileges have disappeared. As a result, I have taken to assisting whenever I am available. At present, I offer rides for groceries, the dog groomer, or pharmacy. In return, I enjoy a light lunch or dinner, advice and counseling, and chuckles with these forever marrieds. Often too, I am honored as a guest at their summer cottage along Lake Michigan. With love and respect, we both benefit.

It was mid summer 2017. Ralph, Mary, Katie the Schnauzer, and I were spending a few leisurely days at the cottage. Cool breezes and clear skies offered a soothing respite from the summer heat. I was helping to clean up breakfast when Mary suggested we take a trip into Ludington to shop and lunch. Cheerfully we readied Katie and ourselves.

After picking up a few Walmart deals, Ralph casually suggested, “Francie, would you mind stopping by Eureka Auto? Mary and I want to check the value of our car. We’ve blown three tires on it and don’t drive anymore, and thinking to trade for an older model. We’ll save on insurance and maybe it will be a good used car for Alex, our grandson.”

“Sure, I’d be glad to stop by,” I added.

Parking the car, we exited into the steamy morning. “We need to take Princess along, right? Where’s her leash?” I offered.

Ralph was searching high and low. “Well, I don’t see it here in the back. Let me check the trunk.” Mary and I shuffled our way into the dealership. A salesman greeted us at the door while looking over our shoulders in confusion. I turned to look. Oh boy!

Frank was toddling with Katie carefully in tow using a very short bungee cord! Ever so slowly the twosome made their way with Ralph hunched and Princess on her tippy paws. Chip, the salesman, chuckled and eyed to me for a response. I simply shrugged and smiled, “I’m just the driver. May I introduce you to Ralph, Mary, and Katie?” Several sets of eyes were now smiling upon us.

As the trio took a seat in Chip’s office, I excused myself for a restroom and coffee break.Twenty or so minutes I returned to find them intact; Mary smiling, Katie snoozing, and Ralph shaking Chip’s hand. The deal was sealed. My forever weds had traded their car for a much older, used Impala!

While Chip was sorting the paperwork, a check was being drawn as the Impala was cheaper than the current value of their trade in! “Francie, we made a deal and Chip’s paying us to get another car. What do you think about that? See that cream puff out there, It’s now ours!”  Ralph could not have beamed brighter as he proudly pointed to the rustless, one-owner, gem! The office was now in a most festive, celebratory spirit. Princess wagged in excitement. I became happily confused.

Personals and oddities were quickly transferred to the new, used Impala. “Francie, hop in, you’re still doin the driving.” Ralph reassured me with his ever present smile. “Now we need to get this money in the bank, then lunch, how’s that sound? Oh, and don’t tell our girls. They don’t know about this account we have.” Ralph and Mary giggled with sly, devilish nods.

Ludington, lunch, and love. It all came together that summer day. This short tale of Ralph’s humor and wit so reminded me of James Thurber’s fictional daydreamer, Walter Mitty. Mildly outlandish with a dash of crazy fun!

Lessons Learned

Never underestimate the power and knowledge of your elders. Both Ralph and Mary are sharp and witty. I so enjoy their advice and company. I aspire to be them when, and if, I reach their age!

Wedding vows can be said by anyone, but only the special ones continue to live them. These love pups prove this every time I am in their company. They seldom bicker, often complete each other’s sentences, and share common bonds of love, respect and dedication. God bless Ralph, Mary, and of course, Miss Katie!

Stay alert for part two:  “Limericks and Love”. Thanks for reading!

Having recently divorced, I concluded that life was worthy of more than what I had accomplished in the previous 42 years. I was determined not to become reclusive, lazy, or just plain retired.  New life. New shoes. New attitude. Time to smile, get to know myself, and reassess what was important to living again.

I was given an opportunity to exit the cold, blustery confines of Michigan’s winter and enjoy the sunny south.  Long time girlfriends Kaye and Janey had found a small, comfortable condo in their Florida complex. Family and friends questioned my reasoning and quick decision. I assured them I planned to have fun, meet new people and move forward. I couldn’t get there fast enough.

The place of warmth and sunshine was just what I needed. Kaye and Janey were experienced in any and all “senior” activities. Potlucks, happy hours, card clubs, quilting, meeting new peeps and the like. Immediately I was introduced to my neighbor, Henry.   Warned that he was single and much the gentleman and charmer, I was not disappointed. Henry gracefully sported his 80 plus years. He introduced himself casually and I knew immediately I had a friend. Ahhhh, life in the sun!

Innocent enough, I invited Henry for dinner. He arrived early with a cooler and a smile.  He pulled out a small plate of shrimp, cocktail sauce, two glasses, and a bottle of wine. “You didn’t say anything about hors d’oeuvres and I always have a few before dinner. I brought my favorites and a little wine.”  His coy smile and wink found me fascinated.

Slightly enamored, we enjoyed a light dinner and lively conversation. Henry suggested he return the favor by taking me to one of his local hangouts, Buster’s. Thinking nothing of it, I graciously agreed to dinner the following night.

As you can imagine, one dinner led to another and another. Henry had lost the love of his life six years previous. I was recently divorced after a long, committed marriage. We seemed to be great listeners, enjoyed similar values, humor, and oddly enough, empathized in each other’s woes.

It wasn’t long before Henry admitted that he was starry eyed. “So listen, Francie. You are so wonderful for me. You make me smile and make me feel worthwhile.  I have never met someone like you. You are somthin’ else! I think I’m falling for you, BUT that doesn’t mean YOU can fall for me.”

“Oh Henry, you are crazy!” I assured him. “This can’t be. We are just great friends. Stop with those silly ideas.”

He would hear nothing of my thoughts. “I realize I am much too old for you. I’d like to help you find someone that would be a better match.  But, I don’t plan to work very hard at it! You are beautiful and have a good heart. I want to be alive just one more year so I can enjoy this happiness with you.”  Henry was adamant. He was a true gentleman, compassionate, and a comfort when I needed it most. Oh my, what had we started?

For the next eight months, Henry and I enjoyed short travels, concerts, Cribbage, boating, fishing, and quiet dinners. Life had become one big smile for the both of us. I openly prayed, “God, if this is meant to be, make it so.”  I too, was falling in like with Mr. Henry.

That summer, after an eight day trip through the Mitten, Henry and I enjoyed a leisurely week at his lake cottage in Wisconsin. One morning while sharing coffee on the dock, Henry mentioned feeling short of breath and wondered if maybe it was walking pneumonia. He had an appointment with a pulmonologist in a few weeks, but felt like he couldn’t wait for the visit. Following a call to his family, Henry and I set off for the Emergency Clinic.

A week later, after much needed oxygen, a few blood transfusions, and endless tests, Henry was diagnosed with MDS, a form of pre-leukemia. If he could overcome current lung congestion, occasional blood transfusions would return him to normal living. Henry decided that he would try intensive antibiotic treatment in hopes of getting well and back to living.

Within 24 hours, Henry and his medical team were not seeing improvements they had hoped for. Calling on palliative care, his priest, and the hospital Chaplain, Henry was calmly adamant. “Take out these needles, keep me comfortable, I am ready for this journey.”  His quiet strength was evident and honorable.

Henry pleaded with me stay by his side.  “Please don’t go back home. I want you here with me. I want my kids here, but not making my decisions. They’ll start arguing and all that. I love you and want you on this journey with me. You are not judgemental and will allow me to make my own decisions.  You are beautiful, wonderful and give me comfort.” Sobbing, I held his hands in mine and could only agree. With his children’s overwhelming approval, I would courageously take this journey with Mr. Henry.

Two days later, Mr. Henry completed his passage. I was there and it was beautiful. Such a God-given gift was Mr. Henry. The hospital Chaplain, the palliative care team, Henry’s priest , his children, and I comforted, prayed, sang, and blessed this gracious, giving man.

Losing someone dear is seldom easy nor timely. Hold on to the love, not the loss. Powerful, purposeful, real. My strength. Thank you loving God for Henry.

Lessons Learned

One can never predict when a true gift of love will enter your life. Henry was just that for me and I was ever reminded that I was just that for him.  

God never gives us more than we can handle. Journeying with another through their final days was an experience I never thought I could endure. With God’s trust and love I became the strength Henry needed to move forward.

There are no guarantees in life. Live like there is no tomorrow.  Enjoy. Love. Find happy!

Thanks for reading!