Just Stuff

I will admit to suffering from a case of melancholy this afternoon. Judy's death is starting to hit home, and despite being kept busy by all those things that one must do when a family member dies, this afternoon I believe I have hit a wall.

The cause of this is, I believe, the talk around me of Thanksgiving, preparations therefor, and the anticipation of being with family and friends. Looking back, this will be the first Thanksgiving I've not spent with Judy for 38 years.

Our first Thanksgiving together was at the home of one of her best friends in college; Judy always spent Thanksgiving with her sister and brother-in-law while at KU, as the break was not of sufficient duration to go home to Tacoma, WA. Jo and Ken resided in Manhattan, and she always traveled there. The year in question, Ken's step-father was gravely ill, and they had traveled to Coffeyville to be with his mother, leaving Judy without a place to go.

As we had started to become a couple, the natural answer was to spend Thanksgiving together in Lawrence. I was not on call at the mortuary that day, and plans were made to celebrate together at her apartment. Unfortunately, two problems immediately became apparent; I was on call the night before, and would not be available to help with cooking; and, she didn't have the correct "stuff" to do a turkey. So, we decided we would have Thanksgiving dinner out, but back then, there were no restaurants open in Lawreance on Thanksgiving day.

In swooped Gail to the rescue. She lived in Kansas City; her folks knew Judy; and they were willing to set an extra plate at the table for this really strange guy they had never met before. Things went well that day, and so we thereafter spent Thanksgiving together until this year.

I'll miss getting up very early Thursday morning to fire up the smoker to do the brisket that Judy marinated beginning late Tuesday night (it turned out that she really didn't like turkey) along with the other things I could do on the smoker; then filling the time until the brisket was done (rule of thumb: an hour per pound plus an hour for the smoker) watching the "tube", particularly the NFL game involving her beloved Dallas Cowboys (and, if we were indeed fortunate, watching the other game if her more beloved Green Bay Packers were playing), talking about the annual "Tolle family brawl" a/k/a my family's Thanksgiving dinner which is either Saturday or Sunday after Thanksgiving proper and what we were bringing this year. Her recipe box always held a surprise for my family, and our annual contribution was always looked forward to by the others; in the later years, wondering how Lindsay was doing that day at Colby; and generally, just passing the time allowing the dinner to digest.

This year, it will be just Lindsay and me joining (as plans are right now) the blogger from the older WEBlog days known as "rm" for dinner at a local eatery. Before anyone gets carried away, all three of us have been invited multiple places; in the case of Lindsay and me, we don't fell all the sociable right now. I won't speak for rm; he has his own reasons. If this doesn't work out, well, Lindsay and I will muddle through. It is just going to be different, and this time, the difference hurts; really hurts.