Thirty Five Years . . .

October 14, 1980

The day was like most October days . . .

warm fall like breeze

leaves falling fast and furious

a hint of cooler weather approaching

thoughts of football, pumpkins, October fest, Halloween . . .

It was a Tuesday . . .

My teens, 13 and 16 were busy with school homework.

I had laundry, dishes from dinner, end of day tiding up things to do.

Ginger was resting by the doorway, her master,

dad, husband, Gary was out with the guys

for a run/exercise night . . .

A face in the window

friends, Dave and Lynn . . .

I felt suddenly chilled, frightened

"Something has happened, we have to hurry . . . It is Gary . . ."

Warm breezes had changed to rain . . .
we hurried for the car

Suzie in her PJ's, clothes on top of them

Scott, Suzie, the three of us in the back seat

confused, startled, stunned, frightened . . .

Hospital Emergency

waiting

frozen
shocked

Doctor holding my hands

"There wasn't anything we could do
I am so sorry, he is gone . . ."

I can't believe this

I can't believe this

I still can't believe this

~
how could it be
he was only forty one
not sick
how could it be

Life changed in an instant.

The reality and shock is never forgotten.

We remember today
Gary
dad
husband

We cherish the life we had together.

as a family we
skied, boated, camped

family pets many
a couple of our pets were

our Irish Setter

and a non friendly cat that only liked Suzie.

we lived in 
Milwaukee, West Allis, Baraboo, Montague

there were
many trips out west to ski

with the Mulock family

skiing Indianhead and Powderhorn

boating, sailing, fishing, camping

on the Wisconsin River, the Mississippi
White Lake, Lake Michigan
and Hill Lake in Minnesota

our beautiful restored Baraboo home

all the work Gary did

refinishing, painting, repairing

Scott helping him

our move to
Montague Michigan

new home

new wonderful friends

a very good life indeed

blessings many

~

I found grief the most solitary experience ever
non of us grieve the same
there is no right or wrong
 I felt like I was riding a roller coaster with my feelings
grief never ends . . . it changes
talking, writing, crying, walking,
remembering, laughing
praying,
friends, family
help sometimes
and sometimes nothing helps

his name was Gary, I like hearing his name

not much anyone else can do
to ease someone else's grief pain 
yet . . . listen and be there
~
Even after thirty five years
it is like it happened yesterday.

Life is fragile, it can change in a flash
please be kind to one another
Love,
Lynne
Scott and Suzie

Gary Kay Gordon

1939 -1980

Remembering . . .

Here we are back in
August of 1961
when we were married

we shared a happy and great life
I graduated college in June of '61,
married in August
began my first year of teaching kindergarten in September
Gary graduated college in '63
and began work as a Defense Contract Auditor at
General Motors in MIlwaukee

we gave birth and life to our children
 Scott in 1964, Susan in 1967

we purchased a three story one hundred year old home
painting, sanding, refinishing, restoring became our mantra

we played lots and had really fun times together,
skied, boated, fished, camped
enjoyed our family and friends

here are some pics of way back then

at my parents home probably around  '76-'77

Suzie at thirteenish

around the same age, not sure where she was going
maybe her first school dance

Suzie and her friend Jenny on one of our ski trips in Colorado

a momma hug in the garden, late seventies

Scott and Suzie
getting ready to drive to Colorado to ski
late seventies

Scott, Breckenridge, '77

Gary, Keystone, Colorado 1979

back yard tree
getting ready for the annual holiday '78 photo
~
and then suddenly
shockingly
life ended as we once knew it to be

~

death came to Gary at

forty one
while he was with friends
after jogging
~

October 14, 1980

~

it was a Tuesday eve
rainy like today
we can't help but remember
~
with our love
and cherished memories

Suzie, Scott , Lynne

eulogy from his funeral
was given by a friend of ours, Bob Gilpatrick
please excuse the cutting and pasting
and some of the repeats
photos are from a calligraphy piece
I had made of the eulogy


 

take hold of each day and enjoy

live with joy, love and laughter
~
'til next time,

Love, Lynne

Death leaves a heartache that no one can heal,

Love leaves a memory no one can steal.
~
from a headstone in Ireland
 (thank you Anne) 

 

Book Release . . .

 

I have been waiting for this day.

A friend of mine, a friend of many people in our area,

held her book signing and reading of her book

He Plays a Harp

at the Scolnik Healing Center

in Muskegon Michigan today.

  

 

Roberta F King

 

 

Roberta F. King lives in Muskegon, Michigan and is the Vice President of
PR & Marketing at Grand Rapids Community Foundation.
Outside of her professional public relations writing, her articles and essays
have been published in Atticus Review, Brain, Child
: The Magazine for Thinking Mothers, The Boiler, Hippocampus,
Lifelines (the literary journal of The Geisel School
of Medicine at Dartmouth College)
and in The Rapidian.
 
He Plays a Harp is her first book.

She was Runner Up in the 1989 Mrs. Asparagus competition,
hosted by the National Asparagus Festival in Shelby, Michigan.

She holds a BA from Valparaiso University,
 an MS from Grand Valley State University
and is a student in the UCLA Extension Writing Program.
~

Roberta and Mike Miesch, are Noah's parents. 

Roberta has been working on He Plays a Harp for the past four years.

Mike created the art piece for the book.

~

On the book back cover . . .

 

In He Plays A Harp, stories and essays about Noah Miesch's life

are intermixed with pieces about his illness, death and

the after affect of his death on his parents and family. The life stories are lighthearted

and fun, but offer a view into the complexities of parenting a child with a disability. 

They include a shocking three day suspension from elementary school for pulling a fire alarm, therapeutic horseback riding lessons, the mysterious de-pantsing

of Noah in Appleton, Wisconsin, (possibly by Harry Houdini)

and a mom who read aloud to her son for seventeen years.

 

The illness, death and after-death pieces are written with an unsentimental

observer's eye, but with the intensity of maternal grief and unrealized dreams. 

The writing reflects on the scent of a few pieces of saved clothing,

a child's feet that never touched earth and the realization that there

is no word that describes parents who have lost a child. 

 

Boldly confronting the devastating  reality of a child's death, He Plays a Harp

offers honest writing that tells of the joy-filled years and pain-filled last days of a child's life and how two people take their beloved son-and themselves-to the other side, fearlessly. 

~ 

I have had the opportunity to read some of Roberta's

Life Stories and pieces that are included in the book

during the past few years. 

 

I purchased Roberta's book today,

came home and read the first part of the book,

Homestretch . . .

 

I can't put the book down but wanted to

quickly do this post so if any of you are interested you can

check out the sights below and better yet order the book

so you too can read it.

Please tell me if you do purchase/read the book

so we can visit together after.

 

I worked in the field of grief and loss for many years.

I have met many bereaved persons and heard

sadness, fear, devastation and much more..

He Plays a Harp is beautifully, tenderly written

and is touched with poignant truth and authenticity.

I consider it a

Must Read

 

website - www.robertafking.com

Good Reads author page _ https://www.goodreads.com/robertafking
Amazon author page - https://www.amazon.com/author/robertafking
Book Trailer https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kd3JRnCTOBE

Until next time,

Love, Lynne

~



The Story Keeper . . .

 

World Trade Center Site

 

One World Trade Center

formerly known as
Freedom Tower
is one thousand seven hundred seventy six feet tall

 and symbolic of the date of

United States independence
.

 It is the tallest skyscraper in America.

 

OWTC
rises high above

where the twin towers once stood

and looks over the two square cascading waterfalls

where the falls disappear thirty feet into a center void.

This is the 9/11 memorial site.


 

 

The pools are surrounded by bronze panels

with the names of those who died on 9/11.

A memorial park
also surrounds the cascading pools
with three hundred oak trees.
 



 

a place of remembrance
reverence
quiet

 





 

I have felt a need to go to the site since 9/11 occurred.

Jack too felt a need to visit ground zero.

When we arrived we knew, for us,

it was the right decision for us to be there..

 

 

Construction surrounds this entire area,

evidence of new is being built

although there is much which is still in the repair process.

 

We were amazed at the tons of security remaining.

We were also amazed at the warm and courteous responses

from the people we would meet,

those visiting

as well as those dressed

in blue work clothes and three piece suits.

 

The 9/11 museum you see above 

will open in 2014.

 

  

As we began our exit

we both began looking for bathrooms

without much luck..

 

I remembered seeing the sign for

O'Hara's Pub

and having an Irish connection

I suggested to Jack we stop in there.

It was around noon,

we walked into the pub and we were greeted by

a strapping, handsome, deep voiced gracious man.

He immediately noticed Jack's pullover with an Ireland logo

and the conversation began.

 

 

I knew we couldn't just walk in there and ask to use the bathrooms

so I stepped up to the bar and ordered a glass of wine.

Jack gave me one of those WHAT looks, like, it is only eleven in the morning
 and kept on visiting with the bartender.

 

And then, the most amazing serendipitous moment . . .

the bartender was a New York City fireman and

was one of the early 9/11 firemen to respond.

He witnessed the tragedy and the death of one of his fireman buddies.

He hugged us over to the bar and said he had something to show us

and brought out this memorial book.

The photos following are from the book,

(I asked for permission to take pictures of the book and photos.)

 



 

The bartender, former NYC Fireman
rescuing a dog.

 



O'Hara's was closed for eight months.

This is the photo of their reopening day.

The main level of the pub has reopened but not the level above.. 

 

Not sure how long we visited

another couple came in and sat at the other end of the bar

and the bartender took the book for them to see too.

 



 

 

 



 





 

We were so moved by our visit to ground zero
and the meeting with the fireman. 
It looks like our experience is one several others have also had

We looked up
O"Hara's Pub
when we arrived home and found that. 
O'Hara's is frequented by many and
others have also been touched by their story.

A You Tube video is also available.
A Pub Finds A New Identity in the Shadow of Ground Zero

We think the fireman/bartender's name may be
Tim  Duffy
~

Memorial Day . . .

 

Memorial Day
2013

 

some words come to mind

honor  respect  remembrance

those who have died as they served our country

personal loved ones who have died

children  parents  relatives  friends

husband  father

 

 

I find myself thinking of parents whose

  children who have died

 the hopes, dreams, promises that must have also died

i can't imagine the loss and pain

my heart feels love and tenderness.

 

 

so much history in a cemetery

i wonder who is still alive in this family

who tends the grave

does anyone come to this grave

what do they remember

 

 

i don't hesitate to make a trip to the cemetery.

in fact I find it a quiet place to visit.

there is no rush or scattered, frantic, hurry
 

i enjoy seeing others tending and reflecting

and i imagine the life stories
of those lives which are now marked in marble and stone
and in the personal markings i see here and there 
  

we each have chapters in our life

the bits and pieces. the hills and valleys

the joys and sorrows

 

this is one of my chapters

 

i made a visit to the cemetery

it was a gorgeous day

i was alone there when i brought my flowers

suddenly i was overcome with sadness

unlike ever before

i don't have to go there to remember

although in going

 i am reminded

 

 chapters

memories

college

falling in love

marriage

children

cities where we lived

first home

adventures  travels 

skiing  boating  camping

plans and dreams

pets

laughter

love

friends

family

 

thirty three years ago

life changed

suddenly  unexpectedly

 

sometimes i just simply miss the yesterdays

even though i feel blessed with my today

~

Gary Kay Gordon

2-13-39 - 10-14-80

 

Touching, Provoking, Personal . . .

He Plays The Harp

from
ATTICUS REVIEW
is a well written piece
by Roberta King,
who is writing
a memoir
of her son
 Noah.

provoking, touching, tender, honest, loving

I have often thought about Roberta
 and Noah, husband and family
in the past five years.
Yet nothing as profoundly as I do today.

If you would like to, you can leave
a note for Roberta on the review site.

 Roberta F. King lives in Muskegon, Michigan and is the vice president of PR & Marketing at Grand Rapids Community Foundation. Outside of her professional PR writing, her articles and essays have been (or will be) published in Boiler Journal, Hippocampus, Atticus Review, The Rapidian and Solace magazine. She is working on a memoir about her son, Noah. www.robertafking.com ~~~ My friend Babs, is a friend of Roberta's, and she posted He Plays The Harpa few days ago.I am sure many of you read it thenbut I am sure there are many who have not. Thank You Roberta

To The Cemetery . . .

Memorial Day,

a day to give pause and honor

for those who have died.

I don't hesitate to make a trip to the cemetery. 

In fact I find it a quiet place to visit. 

There is no rush or scattered, frantic, hurry. 

I enjoy seeing others tending and reflecting. 

I imagine the life stories of the many lives

marked in marble, stone and in personal markings. 

Thoughts of parents surround me 

of the children who have died

and the hopes, dreams, promises that must have also died.

 My heart feels love and tenderness.   

I find history and who is left to tend, to reflect?

 I remember a death of almost 31 years ago.  

I don't have to go to the cemetery to remember.

Although in going I am reminded once again

of my husband, love, memories, laughter, children, friends and family.



It feels right and good

to honor, to respect,

to reflect.

Walk through a cemetery sometime. 

Stop . . . pause . . . reflect.

Love, Lynne

~~~

Bits and Pieces

People.

People important to you, people unimportant to you

cross your life, touch it with love and carelessness and move on.

There are people who leave you and you breathe a sigh of relief

and wonder why you ever came in contact with them.

There are people who leave you and you breathe a sigh of remorse

and wonder why they had to go away and leave such a gapping hole.

People change homes.

People grow apart.

Enemies hate and move on.

Friends love and move on.

Children change and grow and make choices and move on.

You think of the many people who have moved into your hazy memory.

You look on those present, and wonder.

I believe in the presence of God in our lives.

People move in and out of one another's lives and each person leaves

its mark, “it’s touch,” on the other.

You find that you are made up of bits and pieces

of all who have ever touched your life,

and you are more because of it,

and you would be less

if they had not touched you.

Pray God that you accept the bits and pieces in humility and wonder,

and never question and never regret.

Bits and Pieces, Bits and pieces

author unknown

paraphrased from original