Rememberances

As the rest of the country suffers from the after effects of devastating tornadoes, Minnesota remains relatively balmy, at least for early March.

We had a Leap Day storm this week. It didn’t affect the Twin Cities very much, we had a couple of inches of heavy, heart attack snow, which I managed to shovel without a heart attack, but further north, especially Duluth, saw white out conditions and ferocious winds churning up the ice on Lake Superior.

I believe this same storm system as it moved east, created the conditions to spawn those deadly tornadoes.

And this weird winter of 2011-2012 continues.

Even though this winter for the most part has been more like fall than winter, I still have that urge for spring. I can hear the early spring songs of the birds now in the morning and when I get home from working out, I can hear the gobbling of the wild turkeys that live across the street, and those are signs that spring is right around the corner.

Some of us use the seasons to mark the events of our lives, kind of like a yardstick.

When I went to the cemetery today, I looked for flowers on the grave next to Ray’s. This man died on March 1, 2008. And his widow never misses a birthday or a death day or Christmas.

When their daughter got married last fall, she left photos at his grave.

The flowers were there. They were strewn on the ground, but the cemetery is home to a few deer, and I’m sure they nosed the flowers looking for something to eat.

Some animal found Ray’s Valentine’s Day Peeps. The package was torn apart and all the pink Peeps were gone.

There was a note attached to the flowers. You see, I’m not the only one who leaves notes for dead people.

I met her once. I think it was during our first year.

We stood together at our respective spouse’s graves, but didn’t speak.

It was kind of embarrassing to be standing so close together. My time with Ray is always private and it was annoying that someone was there so close to me.

I think she left first.

Now, if she was there, I would talk to her. I’d want to know about her life, her husband, and the life they shared together.

And as the years have gone by, I see the flowers by his grave marking the change of seasons just as my flowers do for Ray.