Posted in General, Uncategorized

A Might-have-been 70th Wedding Anniversary

Yes, today, 9th April 2025, might have been
My Beloved’s and my 70th anniversary.
It wasn’t to be, as she died after our 68th.

But, it is NOT a sad day! It is a day of rejoicing.

I have so many things for which to be thankful. My Beloved would not have wanted me to be be sad today: she wanted a joyful party on the day we celebrated her life and we did have a joyful time.

There are so many good and wonderful memories:

  • the day of our wedding
  • the day our first child was born
  • the many holidays towing our Olympic class dinghy and 5 kids and a collie in the back of the wagon
  • the many cruises by ourselves to hundreds of cities around the world
  • the times, sometimes with kids, we drove around Europe, Canada and the USA
  • the times we spent driving around South Africa, Australia and New Zealand
  • the many Sundays spent singing in church choirs – and the practices
  • the many 18- and 20-hour days we spent preparing a study for one or other of our clients
  • the years we spent in Spain with my sister-in-law, Margaret, and her husband
  • the almost 20 years we spent renting, for 4 or 5 months over winter, a condo in Palm Springs beside the pool and with all the friends we made at church and at daily exercises and aquacises for My Beloved
  • the marriages of all five kids and the progeny of all of them
  • the times we had many visitors over 60 or so years staying for short or long stays – each brought his or her joy and gave it to us
  • the love My Beloved showed by always looking her best when I got home from work or a business trip

It’s true that from time to time I will be looking at some TV program and I turn to her in her chair to make a comment – but she isn’t there! Maybe I will never rid myself of the actual fact she is no longer with me, but I hope not. She will for ever be with me until we meet again in Heaven. And that is one reason I can still be joyful: knowing we will meet again. Yes, the circumstances will be different, quite different, I am sure.
Love will be all around, with everybody, not just centered, as on earth, on the two of us.
I rejoice today in that knowledge!

Posted in General, humor, humour, romance, Uncategorized

You never know what’s in a box!

When we downsized, this box, which had no key and none of our keys on rings fitted it, came with us. So, we had to find a locksmith.

The name Beeler came up, along with a bunch of other names.
I dropped into the store and it happened that Steve was at the counter and, after telling him that I had no idea what was in the box, though I thought it could be letters, he tried one of his many rings of keys. None fitted. I lost count of how many rings of old keys Steve tried, but none fitted. Eventually, Steve called Dad Mike from the back of the store and he could not find a key which fitted. It really had them puzzled: this had never happened before. Mike decided that if he found a key which seemed like it partly fitted, he might be able to cut it: so he did and it did! These two had already spent almost an hour trying, so when Mike eventually cried, ‘It works’ everyone was joyful. I could not thank the owners of Beeler Security Service enough for the care and time Steve and Mike took over one old writing desk and I wrote a great review on Google.

On opening it, we found out that it was an old writing desk, even equipped with an ink well. The ink was dry!

The letters were dated 1951 and 1952 and it showed that while each of us was in a different university, we wrote to each other daily. This habit continued even while I was in Canada for nearly two years, although then it became a weekly mail. But, in those days, I could write and mail a letter on a Sunday afternoon, My Beloved received it usually on a Thursday and she would respond over the weekend, so I would expect a reply about 10 days after mailing my letter. From Moose Jaw, Canada to Southampton, England and return!

Mike and Steve asked me if I wanted to open the box and, on doing so, inside were love letters written from and to my Darling wife, who died in July 2023, after 68 years of wonderful marriage, but we both knew when we were 13 that the other was THE ONE.

I made a fateful decision: I read one. I could hear her lovely voice in my head, using those silly words that lovers do, or what these two lovers did, a simple one being ‘I lub you!’ for ‘I love you.’ And there were others scattered throughout the usual 3 pages of closely written handwriting. And more when she signed off. Are you surprised I was in tears for an hour or two. Some of you know that Beryl’s parents were teachers and they wanted her to be one, but in order to be that, she could not be married. That was the law in those days. Consequently, they tried every which way to keep us apart. I must say that it was her father who was the ruler of their household and no-one dare upset him or he could go into a long sulk, speaking to no-one for days.

While in England for five weeks last September/October, Jenny, #2Daughter, joined me for the last two to three weeks and she particularly wanted to see some of the old haunts her parents used to escape ‘father’. One was the Cowherds Inn on the Southampton Common. One evening, I took My Beloved there and, after dinner, took her to a large oak tree behind the inn. As the story went in memory, and what I retold to my friends and relations in October, she leaned her back to the oak and I said, I think we should get engaged, to which, to my surprise, she said, no, we cannot because of the situation at home. So I repeated the story that she had turned me down.

BUT, on reading one of the letters today, I found a sentence which said that I should not say in a letter to someone that ‘we are engaged, even though it is a secret between us’ and she started writing in her letters to me about being my fiancée. I do not remember ever having asked her again and to which she must have said yes. WOW!

Some day I must finish reading the letters and discover more secrets, such as, when and where did I propose. Apparently, we had decided to have two children, but four if we could afford it. As it turned out, we must have made enough to have not just four, but five!


Posted in Uncategorized

It’s almost a year now, but love of her stays in my heart

How we grow attached to our cars! They are inanimate objects made up of thousands of pieces of metal and plastic or, if you are lucky, wood, too. Yet they are sexy. We caress the steering wheel, we stroke the hood, we don’t let anyone smoke in them and, yes, we even talk to them, gently, sometimes angrily. And we love them.

Thousands of pieces of metal and plastic were brought together in a Chrysler plant some time in 1997 and  the sum of all those pieces was delivered to a dealer near our home.

I fell in love with her one summer day.

There she was, in all her silvery glory in the dealer’s yard, her lovely eyes appealing to me. Yes, we knew at once that we were meant for each other. She had a sliding roof and all sorts of electronics. I weIMG_20140513_132252ll remember the salesman taking My Beloved and me out to her and pressing the key to unlock her. “Oh,” he said, “there must be something wrong with the alarm, for it should have sounded when I pressed the key.” “Not at all, ” responded My Beloved, “He’s already found out how to silence that while you were putting the papers together.” If there’s one thing I cannot stand with alarms, it is that they make rude noises when you approach or leave the car doors. I consider such noises impolite and a lady, such as she I had just purchased, should never have to utter such rude sounds.

This 1997 Chrysler LHS (then Chrysler’s top of the line auto) had no name and we could not come up with one which seemed to suit her. Until, a few days later, we drove across the continent from Nova Scotia, to pick up My Beloved’s sister and husband at Seattle airport and immediately on to Victoria, British Columbia, for our son’s wedding. We had crossed into Maine, passed through Hartford, Connecticut, the Adirondacks, by-passed Chicago, and entered Montana, all at sort of around the legal speed limits. However, Montana had no speed limits, so….

……yes, you guessed it. I had to discover what this LHS would do. So, foot pressing on the accelerator, she moved up quickly from a sedate 130kph, through the 150s, then through the 160s and 170s to 180. She was flying along, so she and we agreed on the name Fly.

But, again, as she got to 180 kliks,….

…..Oh no! The engine cut back and she slacked off to 170kph. I depressed the accelerator again. And again, like the beautiful woman she was, clockwise went the needle until, once again it registered 180kph. Oh, no! The engine cut back and I realised she had a governor preventing her from showing me the full extent of what the lovely 4.2 litre heart under her hood could do.

Despite having a governor, Fly was fast enough for us generally. She did Trojan work for us and we enjoyed the wondrous ability she had of traversing the continent seamlessly from Nova Scotia to Palm Springs, California, with a fully loaded trunk and back seat, a round trip of 17,000 kliks, including detours to visit family in Atlanta or Denver or Vacaville, six times, including one memorable trip along the real Route 66 from Chicago to Los Angeles.

Fly flew other long trips to Montreal and often to the neighbouring province of Prince Edward Island and served us magnificently, whether we were travelling near to or far from home.

But, there always comes the day when, as she grew older, much like us humans, she had aches and pains, some of which cost a lot of money in the auto hospital. And there is no national health program for distraught cars, so we had to pay for the fixing. Then came the day, the very sad day when it was just not worth the money to fix Fly, who seemed to have died overnight, peacefully in her sleep. We phoned the car funeral home; the hearse came, loaded her beautiful silver body on to the back of it and…..

……we teared up as we saw her depart down the driveway, through the trees, and off to car heaven.

Our sadness is ameliorated by knowing that all her parts are donatable to other cars and will live on.

RIP Fly – 1997-2014