UPDATE and left at the bus stop

UPDATE: Slept well, doing OK today. I am still surprised and thankful at this turn of events. Feeling this strong allowed me to go to my sweet friend Casey's wedding. She married Cristina in lovely Woodlawn Park in Northeast Portland yesterday late afternoon--the rain stayed away for the entire ceremony! The wonderful reception after the ceremony took place at The Village Ballroom, complete with family toasts, great food and lots and lots of dancing to the music CD that Casey made for the celebration. Everyone had a great time, smiles, joy, and laughter all around! Lamont and Leland took me; we had a great time and are happy to have shared this with Casey and Cristina and their families and friends.



Tomorrow I'll be at the bus stop in time to catch one to work, for the first time since June 23. I won't be leaving anything behind when the bus arrives. I'll work four hours (10:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.) and then take a bus home. I'm looking forward to getting back to some sort of routine out in the world, that is, until the next chemo treatment. We'll see how soon I can go back part time after it.

Happy New Year!

Happy what-would-have-been-our-42nd-anniversary, LeRoy, love of my life! Your sons and I miss you as we celebrate you and say a heartfelt, "Happy New Year!" to our family and friends.

We met on July 31, 1972; he asked me to marry him on September 24, 1972; we married on December 31, 1972; Lamont was born on September 24, 1975. Leland was born on October 31, 1978. LeRoy succumbed to complications from Crohn's Disease on April 14, 1983. In between all of those dates and because of those dates, our lives intertwined with love and joy and happiness and sadness, but ultimately with love and joy and happiness.

Happy anniversary, honey.

Sweet memories

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Forty years ago yesterday, I married this smart, smiling sweetheart--a sexy, hunk of a man--named LeRoy. During the ten years, three months, and two weeks we got to be together before he died on April 14, 1983, we had two splendid sons named Lamont and Leland. I count myself extremely blessed to have had that time with him and for the time I continue to have with two of them. 

If you were of marrying age on December 31, 1972, you'll remember that non-traditional weddings had come into existence. Was I ever glad of that! I just had never seen myself in a white, lace and bead encrusted wedding gown. Nor did I envision that beautifully built man in a tuxedo which to me meant he'd look like every other groom out there. So, I decided that since dark green was one of my favorite colors, I'd find a dress that color. My maid of honor Marsha found a lovely rust-colored dress. See the bouquet beside the cake? The colors of our dresses enhanced the beauty of those pyrethrum daisies. And LeRoy's camel-colored corduroy sport coat, chocolate brown slacks, and cream-colored shirt with ruffles at the sleeves and neck, plus his brown paisley ascot, made him my unique groom. 

I'm smiling and tearing up at the same time, as I type these words and remember our excitement at becoming Mr. and Mrs. 

Fed up? I am.

I thought I'd be cute and creative and make a sign about a pet peeve, using a photo from our wedding. That's LeRoy and me on December 31, 1972. That was the chain-letter era, right?

Part 4, our last fun day together, Sunday, August 28, 2011

Elk Cove Winery, Gaston, Oregon turned out to be a very nice vineyard to visit. Once we found it.

We followed the Garmin on what turned out to be a wild goose chase to a dead end. Then we used my iPhone and made it there before they closed! About the wild goose chase, let me say that I've never had so much fun driving forward, then backing up, turning around, all on a hard-packed gray gravel road out in the Oregon countryside, well after we'd left the paved highway.


We'd genuinely enjoyed being together on the entire ride--dust and all--'cause the dust stayed outside the SUV!


Once we were inside the tasting room at Elk Cove, still talking and chuckling about how we finally found the place, one of their employees piped up, "Oh, that happens to people all the time when they use Garmin. The road stops on one side of the ridge and starts again on the other side." We looked at each other and laughed some more. And it was not the wines being tasted that led to the laughter. By the way, Milton's holding Kay's glass--he didn't drink out of two all by himself. Really. And I had sips of two different wine--one doesn't drink and drive, especially with a Zipcar full of family and friends.


Weddings take place at Elk Cove. In fact, one would happen not too long after we left for Portland. Several people worked hither and yon, getting ready. And then two vehicles filled with the wedding party (no bride or groom yet) and folks who looked like wedding guests parked near the SUV.




I enjoyed walking around, taking a few more photos.

December 31, 1972, I married this gorgeous, good man.

There he is, my husband-to-be, not too many minutes before we got married.


We wrote our own vows. I lost the 3x5 cards in a fire several years ago. Mostly I remember how proud we felt that we'd found each other, totally amazed in fact because I started out in Mississippi, ended up in Kansas City, and we came across each other at the Foolkiller Theater downtown where we acted in a play together, a play entitled "Transcenmental Hippiedations." We said from the heart that we would always be there for each other. Oh, before I forget, look at his beautiful hair! I did so love that man's thick, lustrous hair. Our best man is one of LeRoy's best friends, Ronnie. And my dress is not black, it's a deep pine green velour. I picked it to match the colors of the leaves in my bouquet of pyrethrum daises.


The photo was too wide for the scanner to get it all, or at the least I didn't understand how to make the scanner get it all. Who knows? Anyway I couldn't leave out my wonderful matron of honor, Marsha.


Here we are, embarking together on our married lives that began 38 years ago today at 2:30 p.m., Kansas City time. I had gone to the library and checked out a book about weddings. In it I read that getting married on the up-swing of the clock hand, from the half hour up to the hour, meant good luck.

We had that good luck until 1983 for 10 years, three months and 14 days before LeRoy died. Our sons were seven and four. A different kind of good luck has been with us ever since. We know we'll all be together again, someday.