The voices we leave.

I hear voices, well a voice really. During my day as I encounter people and as life goes on around me, from time to time I hear my wife’s voice.

Today is the second anniversary of my wife’s unexpected death. This year it falls on Easter, the day of Resurrection. It has been a hard two years, family problems, the disastrous election, loneliness.  But I still feel her love and usually hear her voice. Old married people finish each others thoughts and sentences it is said and Donie didn’t like me to be too negative or too angry.  She would wait a beat or so after I came to a sputtering conclusion and then sprout something cheerful,   and deflating.  She kept me centered.  After her stroke, food became an abiding interest to her.  She would come by as I prepared dinner to find out what I was cooking, a long drawn out “Yummm!”, would be heard if she approved. These days when I create something in the kitchen that I know she would have liked, I hear that “Yum” in my head and in her voice.

It’s Spring now, up here in the chilly northeast we finally put together back-to-back fifty degree days (still freezing or hovering just above, nights).  Donie would be out on “Sprout Patrol”, walking around the yard looking for the first sign of spring flowers coming up.  If she found any when she returned inside I’d hear, “Sprouts! It’s Spring!” Followed by a long list of items she wanted to do that season.

I think of her or I hear her most often during times when I’m cooking or fiddling about around the house.  When I’m angry or annoyed I lose her.  Lesson there, I think.

Happy Easter to everyone, and (by the way) this is the 800th post to this blog.

Donie 1981 donie & red head mother


before the fall

The Great Skateboarding Adventure! (or) Before the fall.

Donie toasting her new Gazebo b

About On the North River

Forty years toiled in the Tel-com industry, married for 36 years widowed at sixty-one. New girlfriend at sixty-five. Was a Tea Party supporter. Today a follower of the Last American President to be honestly elected, Donald J. Trump.
This entry was posted in New England, Personal, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to The voices we leave.

  1. Anonymous says:

    Love the Blog. It’s amazing how time flies.
    Enjoy the Spring John.


    • Thanks Bill,
      Hope all is well with your family. The family home in Pembroke was sold last week, Mom and Mary are here in Weymouth with me (oh boy!) We are waiting for “True Spring” to finally arrive.


  2. thirdnews says:

    When I’m angry or annoyed I lose her. Lesson there, I think.

    Have you ever written poetry?


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