A fall day, not long after Larry’s funeral, Stan suggested a “KFC” picnic lunch at Amber Lake in Fairmont. Life had become more difficult during Larry’s declining days. When his battle with Alzheimer’s was at a close, then the death and funeral, there had been no time to get on the bike and let my cares and worries float down the highway. But now a motorcycle ride sounded healing to me.
“It’s so cold we’ll take the Blazer,” Stan suggested. The restored car gleamed in the noontime sun. He opened the door and I got in. It had been a surprise the first time he offered the gentlemanly gesture. He had continued the ritual and I felt treasured.
We ate in the car to keep warm from the brisk fall wind. Sun shining through the windows stole the wind’s bluff at the impeding cold weather. We steeped in that sun. The bag rustled as he handed out the meal and then prayed. We ate and watched the sun dance on the waves.
Stan seemed quieter than usual, thoughtful. He reached in his pocket. I saw a ring. “Would you marry me?”
I remembered the card he had made and sent to me. “To fall in love once is a gift, To fall twice is a miracle. Susan, You are that miracle.”
We were comfortable together, so many commonalties. In first grade our teacher had complimented us, “Look at the lovely Christmas chains Stan and Susan made.”
My family moved to a farm near Garden City. Stan and I attended the same church so we saw each other in Sunday School and Confirmation Class. Then he came to Garden City to attend high school. In 1962 we graduated and did not meet again until 2005.
I had met his sister in Walmart. “Stop and see Stan,” she urged. “His wife died in October and he is really lonely. Maybe you could have coffee.” I stopped. We talked and were nuts about each other.
“But Larry died just six weeks ago,” I thought. “Have I grieved enough?”
Larry and I started grieving the day we received the news that he probably had Alzheimer’s disease. Right there, in the clinic parking lot, we broke down and cried. With each new stage, there were tears, until I realized Larry could not get well. Death and being with Jesus was a far kinder wish and prayer for him. It had been a long eight-year journey.
“Is this what God wants for me?” “How will his family feel if I remarry?” “How will our children take it?” “What will my friends say?” “Will I be gossiped about?”
“Yes. I will marry you.”
So it was set. A Christmas wedding set in the Historic Episcopal Church. Our family and a few close friends would be invited to celebrate our second opportunity to love and be loved.
There are three things that remain — faith, hope and love — and the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13:13 The Living Bible
Sue Peterson has been writing “The Yield” column for more than 20 years and has been a staple of The Land. She may be reached at llpete@hickorytech.net or 36500 250th Street, Amboy, MN 56010.
Matthew 6; Psalm 37:5-7
