Chapter 5

I returned in May with a plan to stay for three months, and this time Chuck was there to meet me. There was someone else there, too. He introduced me to his life-long friend, Bernie, who lived in Northview and spent the summers hanging out in the woods in his camper, fishing, drinking, and enjoying nature. Bernie had been around for a few days, staying on the property and helping out. I was a bit stunned, to say the least, since Chuck never bothered to mention this to me, but Bernie seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. He helped me carry everything in while Chuck went off to take care of something in town. I was delighted to find that Chuck had put a small bunch of wild flowers in a vase on my table.

Then I became very enamored of Bernie when he showed me the cutting board he had installed for me under the counter. He later showed me a photo album he always had with him that had pictures of a house he had built himself some years prior, with Chuck's help. It was quite spectacular.

Chuck came back with some beer and we fired up the barbecue to make burgers. Then we were all pretty tired so we turned in early. Bernie went to his camper and Chuck and I upstairs to his room where we shared the double bed he had set up. There was no bed in my room yet, just a feather mattress and sleeping bag on the floor. 

The next morning Bernie insisted on leaving. He didn't want to be in the way and there was a lot of business that needed taking care of right away. He was off to a lake to go fishing.

The morning went well. Chuck was helpful and full of ideas about what I needed to do now. There were no appliances in the house so right away we had to drive to Northview. I bought a mini fridge, a microwave and a small freezer. He convinced me I should buy a chain saw, too, because I needed to put in a wood stove later and use the acres of wood that I own, with which I could heat my house forever.

While we were shopping we passed the restaurant where we had shared our first breakfast. It was closed down. I was surprised as the food had been good, and cheap. Another sign of the times, I guess. I said, “Oh, look. That first restaurant we had breakfast in together has closed. That was so good that morning.”

“I don't remember ever eating there.”

“You don't remember us eating there?”

“Nope.”

I thought, “That's odd, I am able to remember many of the good restaurants I've eaten in over the years, probably because it's such a rare occurrence. But I am able to remember if the food was good, and I do recall the breakfast we had there. Nice memories, I keep them.” I wondered why he didn't. The whole Man/Mars Woman/Venus thing? We are different, after all. I decided that must be the answer. We remember different things. No big deal.

After we returned to Whispering Springs and put everything away, Chuck wanted us to go up the road to meet some of my neighbors. The Clines, Dan and Marie, were retired school teachers who had built this gorgeous wood home on their 100 acres and were living totally off-grid. What a fantastic place! I knew this was exactly what I wanted to do, and with the right partner, it seemed completely doable.

So we were sitting there, talking with the Clines, and I just mentioned that I had been sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor because I didn't have a real bed. A couple of days later they came to my house with small box spring on legs, saying they hoped this would be helpful to me. My eyes teared up as I realized how wonderful this place was with such generous people around. They told me to call if I ever needed help with anything.

I spent those three months in a veritable state of bliss. I could not believe how well everything was going for me. My life had been filled with letdowns and heartbreaks, and now it appeared that everything was finally going my way. The people I had met were all so incredibly nice, and life here was so peaceful. I totally loved hiking around my property and exploring. 

  

Plus, Chuck set up a solar heated water system for me so I could have hot water again. He and Bernie had pulled an old 40 gallon electric water heater out of the basement, as I had no plans to use such an expensive appliance. I planned buy a smaller model sometime later. Chuck painted it black and I helped set it up on a tower he built at the back corner of the house. There is a hose going into it from the outside tap that fills it. Then a hundred feet of black hose come out which the sun heats up quite nicely. Since no one can see me there, taking a hot shower outside quickly became one of my most favorite things to do.

During this time Chuck finally found work at one of the local mills. That meant he now didn't have much time to spend with me or to help out. Faced with having several acres of yard to mow, I bought a used John Deere yard tractor. Yee haw! Do I ever love driving that around.

Chuck also convinced me to buy a farm truck he had found for sale. It was a 30-year-old Ford with 4-wheel drive and it still ran, sort of. Since Chuck had had the same kind of truck for 25 years, he assured me he would be able to keep it running forever. This was something I was definitely going to need when he started cutting wood for me. He would cut the wood up on the hill, then I could drive around and load it up to move it to the yard.

I spent a whole lot of time then tearing all the ratty carpeting out of the house. Underneath that was old, stained linoleum, which I also removed. Under that I found layers of newspaper from the '50s. I sometimes lost hours reading through them. They were in pretty good shape and Chuck told me I should save them. Later I could go through them and cut out pictures and ads while he made frames for them. Then we could sell them.

Finally I was at the original wood floor. This was a series of what looked to be hand-cut boards, 10 inches wide and in various lengths. They didn't always fit snugly together so some cool air could be felt coming from the basement. I was definitely going to have to buy more rugs. I didn't want carpeting because I don't have a vacuum cleaner. I just use a broom.

All too soon it was time for me to leave again. Back at my cousin's I was so miserable. I missed my birds and the quiet. I missed the star-filled night skies. I missed my funny little house. But most of all, I missed my friend.

Chapter 7

Chuck started doing work around my property again after I left. I had invested in a cell phone to leave with him so I could reach him wherever he was in case of anything urgent. I also signed up for a very affordable long distance service on my other phone and we would talk for hours on end.

He was doing alterations to the house and keeping the property looking nice. I paid him constantly for everything he said he did. One time he called me collect on the cell just to ask a simple question he could have asked about in an email. I told him to please not do that as it cost 30 cents a minute and that could add up pretty quickly.

Later I got this e-mail:

Consider sending me a money thingy for another 400 or so - what I have will barely cover 1 battery and 5 bundles of insulation - I don't wanna discuss it now - unfortunately I feel somewhat reluctant to ask you for money - that's your fault for going on a rag about 30 cents for a one-minute phone call - work on that - we both know I will need $$ for the property- not me, the property . . .

I replied:

Check is in the mail.

Finally it was time to return. Chuck had a court date and I was to be a witness, along with Bernie. We both knew that Chuck had done no damage to the house. We were going to testify to what a conscientious, honest person he was.

I was informed that I would have to drive myself to the court house since Chuck wasn't sure what he would want to do afterwards. So I followed him to Northview and Bernie met us in the parking lot. Several of the police force from Whispering Springs were also there as witnesses and we ended up waiting outside the court room all day as his was the last case called. I did have a nice time chatting with Bernie all day.

At long last Chuck was called in. He was not allowed to call either me or Bernie as we were just listed as character witnesses. The case was all about did he pay or did he not. The judge had no interest in what his character was. When Chuck came out of the courtroom he said he got confused and wasn't sure what to say. But he had a feeling it would be alright. He had turned over all his pictures and documents of what happened to the judge. Now he and Bernie were going to go out camping and I should just go back home. Thanks for coming. 

 

Yes, I was extremely pissed off about that. But a little later that night, they called me. Drunk, silly, funny, they both raved about what an awesome woman I was. All was forgiven.

Then I left the country again, to stay within my time allowance. I got an email from Chuck. He lost the case and had to be out of the house in 90 days. Worse news, his father had died. The man was 95 and had been ill so it wasn't a complete surprise. He had lived in a big city, too far for Chuck to drive, and he couldn't afford a train ticket to attend the funeral. So I asked what it would cost and sent him a wire transfer for the amount.

Sixty days later I returned. Again, I had heard nothing from him since he had come back from the funeral, when he wrote once to thank me and told me it was a very difficult time for him. But I knew the date he was to be out of his house. I started driving by the place to see if there was any sign of him moving. None.

I did, though, get an interesting phone call from Ellen. “Hi. Remember me? I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get in touch, my life has been very busy. I've finally got my house all painted and everything put away. I was wondering if you would like to come over this weekend. I'll make some snacks and I have a lovely bottle of wine we could share. Ask Chuck if he'd like to come, too.”

“Well, Chuck probably wouldn't be interested right now. His father died and he's having a hard time with that. Plus he's being kicked out of his house and I don't know if he has another place to move to or not. But I'd like to come over. I could really use someone to talk to.”

She gave me directions and a couple of days later I drove out to her place, which was even more remote than mine. There were no neighbors to be seen, anywhere, for many miles. Her house was absolutely adorable.

She told me all about her life and how she had finally come to this remote spot. She had long been in animal rescue and this always caused problems with neighbors, so she decided she didn't want neighbors anymore, ever. She now had three dogs and eight cats.

Being an animal lover myself, I was in fur heaven there. I told her I had always had cats but with my situation of having to go back and forth all the time now I couldn't possibly take on the responsibility of a pet. Someday, though, once all the hurdles had been overcome I would be able to stay and then I would sure have cats. And dogs. And chickens. Maybe a horse or two. We bonded like crazy.

She told me how odd it was that first time we met. Chuck had called her and practically begged her to come over that day because he wanted her to meet me. We finally agreed we didn't understand why it had happened but we were both glad it did.

By our second bottle of wine, I was pouring out my heart about Chuck. “I am so in love with the man. He is like a dream come true, except I'm never sure what he thinks about me. He has so many problems in his life, and if he would marry me all those problems could be overcome and he could finally have the chance to live the life he desires. We are so perfect for each other. But he just seems to be so inside himself that he can't see what's going on right next to him.”

“I think it's all going to work out, Maria,” she said. “You two really do seem to be meant for each other.” I slept on her couch that night.

Chapter 9

Finally, glorious summer has arrived here and we start having fun again. Chuck sometimes brings me bouquets of wild flowers. On hot days we sit in the creek together. We have a bonfire almost every night. We hike in the woods. We play Scrabble and Cribbage. I'm very happy.

He sometimes puts music on, that same mix he always plays. I like it, but he will only listen to that certain group of songs, over and over again. He is not interested in hearing anything new. He doesn't even like to listen to the radio.

Since he still refused to come into the house, instead he would come over and sit on the south side of the sun porch with me. There's windows that run the entire 15-foot length of the porch, affording a beautiful view. We would sit and talk for hours about our plans for the future, things we could do with the property, businesses we could start here.

Sometimes we would ride to the edges of the property, in his truck, and hike around enjoying the wilderness. There were always a number of animal tracks to look at and talk about. Then he showed me the raspberry bushes. Oh my, I have my own fruit. I got on the internet and learned all about wild berries. Later I discovered I also have blueberries.

Neither of us has a television so I spent a lot of time listening to public radio, which I really enjoy. I learned so much about the country's history and the people and government. I believe public, non-commercial radio is a true blessing.

Ellen starts coming over on weekends; she's got a job now at the nursing home. The three of us sit around the fire and drink and talk and have fabulous times. One night we start talking about Alzheimer's and I talk about my mom who is now in a nursing home for that reason. It makes me so sad and I wish I could bring her here to be with me as I know she would love being out in nature. Of course, that's not even remotely possible. We also agree, Ellen and I, that should either of us be stricken with it, we would rather take our own lives than go through the ravages of that horrible disease. 

 

Chuck thinks his mom might have it because when he went to his dad's funeral, afterwards, everyone gathered at a restaurant and had a meal, and then everyone was presented with a bill for their own food, even though his mom was quite wealthy. He said he'd never heard of such a thing and Ellen and I had to agree. He had told me many things about his mom over the years. His two brothers despised her. She was, apparently, very cold to them as children. She sounded pretty awful to me.

One beautiful night in July, Chuck and I were sitting outside. We'd had a few beers and he took my hand, looked deeply into my eyes and said, “Please promise you will always be my friend.”

“Oh, of course I will, Chuck. You know I love you. I would do anything for you.”

“I'm not sure I can ever say I love you to anyone again. But I would still be willing to marry you, that way you can stay here all the time.”

“Did you just ask me to marry you?”

“Yes, and I swear I will.”

There are no words to describe how happy I was that night. Or the next day when I called Ellen to tell her. She insisted on being my maid of honor, and I said of course. I wanted to have a private ceremony here, by the creek. Bernie would probably want to be best man. Then we'd have a huge party, set up a bunch of tables outside with food and beer and wine and invite all our friends. I have a little stereo we could set up for music.

I went out that day and added his name to the mailbox, right next to mine. I still remember how giddy I felt, doing that. At last, we are a team. When one door closes, another opens. I am living proof of that. You just have to trust in the higher power, and all things will work out, in the end.

I started searching online for someone who would come out to perform the ceremony. I also had to find out what sort of paperwork would be involved to make this happen. Turns out I had to get a special form from a lawyer, since Chuck and I had both been married before, in different countries. First we would fill out the marriage license application and take it, along with all the paperwork from our previous marriages, to be sent off with a letter from a lawyer saying we were both truly no longer married to someone else and then we would receive a letter of permission from the state.

Chuck signed the license application and agreed to let the lawyer pull his divorce records. Then he told me,” Since you're going to find out about this anyway, I might as well tell you first. My divorce was granted on the basis of abuse. But I only hit her once.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“After she told me she was leaving me, one night I asked if we could go out to dinner and talk. Then we went back to the house and ended up having sex. Afterward she said to me that the only reason I wanted to be with her that night was to fuck her. So I slapped her.

“I immediately realized I had done a terrible thing, so I got up and went to the guest room. She never spoke to me again after that. Then she filed the divorce papers based on abuse and she got her way. My lawyer was worthless and did nothing to defend me. I lost everything.”

I told him if he ever hit me he'd end up missing a hand. I will not tolerate that from anyone. Was that really the only time he had ever done that?

“Yes! Well, no. There was one other time, back when I was 15. I had a friend who was a girl. We were walking home from school one day and I told her about this other girl I wanted to go out with. My friend said that girl was a slut. So I slapped her.

“I realized right away that I had done a bad thing. I apologized but she never spoke to me after that, and I resolved I would never do that again.”

“Yet, you did do it again, later.”

“Yes, I admit that. But now I really understand how terrible it is to hit a woman. I couldn't live with myself if I ever did it again. I swear.”

So, off I went to meet with the lawyer and turn over all the paperwork, plus $500. I was told it could take a few months to hear anything back. A letter would come in the mail. I then explained all this to Chuck and he told me not to tell anyone about it. He didn't want anything to mess up his welfare status.

I told him, “Well, once we're married you won't have to be on welfare anymore. I have enough money to support us for a couple of years and then I'll be able to get a job here. And I will. I'll work, you stay home and take care of the property. It will be a perfect situation. Trust me, we can do this.”

August came and I should have gone back to my country then, but I didn't. I was having too much fun and was so busy with making plans. Plus I got a letter saying the marriage application was missing certain forms and I had to dig that all out again and resubmit it. So I really needed to stay here and keep on top of that process. Meanwhile, we were the happy little couple, me in the house and he in his 13-foot trailer.

He had to stay in the trailer because of the welfare thing again. He told me that if anyone found out he was living in my house, or even if we were having any sort of relationship, they would cut him off. Our relationship had to appear to be one of business only. We couldn't even be seen in town together.

In September he called to say, “There is this 18-foot trailer for sale in the want ads. I'm online with the guy right now. He emailed me pictures and it looks real good and it sure would be great to have. We could take it to go on trips. Besides, we can be married but you know we both need our own space so this would be perfect. I'll park it right next to your door so it will be just like having a whole 'nother wing of the house. Plus, we can live in it while we're doing renovations on the house. 

“It's only $1,000 and if you buy it for me, I will pay you back. When I do stuff for you, instead of paying me $20 and hour you give me $10 and the other $10 can go to pay off the loan. Plus, it's a 3-hour drive from here and since it's fall it would be a great road trip for us, lots of beautiful scenery. Should I tell him we'll be there tomorrow?” Oh, he does know how to play me.

So we went, we got it, and it was a fun trip. We went in Chuck's truck since it has a towing hitch. After we acquired the trailer we stopped in Northview to buy the wood stove Chuck was sure would be perfect for me. I paid for the gas since this trip was all about buying things for me. We also drove by Bernie's to tell him our good news, but his truck wasn't there. We figured he was still out camping somewhere.

As soon as we got back, Chuck immediately went to work getting the new trailer all set up as permanent housing. Instead of putting it next to my door, he parked it over by his other trailer, about 30 yards from the house. He told me he was too tired to try to back it up into position. We could do that later.

He installed five electric baseboard heaters that he got from the dump. He put an old wood stove that the Clines gave him next to the trailer and built a little lean-to over it. It seemed to be a good setup.

So, then we would cook and eat together, and spend evenings playing board games in the trailer. We would go to bed together in the bed at the back end of the trailer. We slept in the spoon position, with me in the back. I would give him massages to help him relax. Since I'm an experienced masseuse, he certainly seemed to enjoy that. We would sleep for a while until he started getting restless, then I would crawl over him as gently as possible, whispering words of love. I would lightly kiss his forehead and say goodnight, then walk back over to the house. I loved those walks under the stars. Sometimes I didn't even bother putting my clothes back on. 

 

We never actually had sex there, never have. He couldn't. I didn't mind, though. We liked to just hold and touch each other. That seemed to be working fine for both of us old folks. Until the night I touched his face, while he was sleeping.

He woke up screaming. “What are you trying to do?”

I said I was just brushing his hair away from his mouth so he wouldn't swallow it.

He told me, “Don't ever touch my face or my throat. I sometimes have nightmares about someone trying to strangle me. I think it might be my mother. She never wanted to have children and she always went blind for awhile after each of us was born. She never showed any of us any sort of affection so it makes me very uncomfortable now when someone does.”

“Well, Chuck, I do love you and I believe that in time you will come to understand that. I will respect your wish to not be touched. I'll just keep telling you how much I love and appreciate you. I promise. Is it okay to keep giving you back rubs?”

“Well, yeah, that's okay.”

 

 

Chapter 10

After we got the trailer our topics of conversation changed. Where we used to discuss all manner of things about the property, now all I would hear about was what he was doing with the trailer. If I tried discussing something I was doing with the house he would just tell me to be quiet, to zip it. Sometimes it was because he already had too much to think about; other times it was that my plans made no sense. He started telling me that I was delusional, that I didn't really have a good grasp on reality. I thought he was referring to my construction ideas. 

October, then, was time to make a supply run to Northview. Chuck didn't want to go, so he made a list of things he needed, which I bought for him. Instead, while I was away his plan was to go into the basement of the house and run a 220 power line out to the trailer so he could use the baseboard heaters he has installed. It would be getting cold soon.

I go, I shop, 6 hours later I'm back. While I was there I drove by Bernie's, but his camper still wasn't in the driveway.

When I get home Chuck doesn't come out to get his stuff. I unload mine then go over to see what's up. He is in a fervor; his computer is dead. He has been working on it all day, but it's gone.

I tell him not to worry, I'll find him another one. I know how important the internet is to him and I will start looking online for a used computer. I really can't afford to buy him a new one right now, but I know there are lots of good used ones out there. Microsoft just put out a new system so lots of people should be looking to get rid of their older ones. I'll search the local classifieds and then call him if I see one that seems right. If he is interested I will get a phone number he can call and they can talk about it. Then I will go pick it up and pay for it, provided it's only a few hundred dollars.

It took two days to find one. It was at a computer repair shop in Northview. The price was right and it was a very good one, an XP. Once again Chuck didn't feel like going. So, when I was in the shop to pick it up, I put Chuck and the salesman together on my cell phone, to work out any issues. I only wanted to be the delivery person, which I told Chuck several times. I also drove by Bernie's once again. I still saw no camper.

When I later pulled into my driveway, I expected to see a happy recipient of the gift I just gave. Instead, I had to carry the boxed computer to the trailer. This was about 3 in the afternoon. He came to the door, took it, said thanks, and went back in to set it up. I was relaxing outside about 40 minutes later when he yelled across the yard, “Where's the disc?“ He stormed towards me.

“What disc? I asked the salesman if there was a Windows disc and he said he explained to you that you did not need a disc, just the registration numbers, and you agreed to that. You have his phone number. Call him if something isn't right. Don't kill the delivery girl.”

I barely remember exactly what was said next because it just blew my socks off. I swear, those beautiful hazel eyes turned black. He said, “This isn't working out; you never do anything right.” Then he accused me of stealing from him. There was stuff in my house that I had taken from him without even asking. He had never met anyone who could do such a terrible thing, stealing from a poor man.

He mentioned a small stool in my kitchen. I tried to remind him that back in the spring, when he moved out here, he one day filled up his truck with stuff to take to the dump. He was tossing out a little, crappy wooden stool with peeling paint and I said, “I'll take that. I can use it.” So he handed it to me.

Then he says something about the green rugs he saw in my house and how they were his. I obviously stole them on the day I helped him move. I have 3 green rugs and I know, beyond a doubt, that I purchased all 3 of them, because of the drafty floor. He tells me that I am delusional. Now, I was pretty fed up at that point, so I got up and went in. I can't try to talk to him because if I try to talk to him, he tells me not to. Anything I say is just trying to justify my (wrong) actions.

I think about this for a couple of days and tell myself he's just cranky. I've known lots of cranky people in my life. If you love them you just learn to deal with the cranky times by stepping away for a bit. They'll get lonely after a while and get back in touch.

Sure enough, he called and apologized for blowing up. He remembered giving me the stool. He still thought, though, that some of his things were over here.

“Yes, there are things of yours over here.” And there are, but he put them in here when I first bought the place and here they have been for years. Some boards, an old chair, a couple of candles, I don't even know anymore what is whose. No green rugs, though. So I say, “If I give you $200 would you feel compensated for everything and we can just put this behind us and move on?“

“Well...., okay. I have a list though, and I'm going to add it all up. I'll give you the list.”

I still never have seen that list and really have no desire to. But, I go over to give him the money and that's when he tells me that he realizes that he has a brain problem and he has had it before, so he is going to go and get medical help. I just need to stay away from him for awhile because I am part of his problem and he really needs to talk to a psych doc about it.

See? He loves me, he just has trouble admitting it and this sets up an internal conflict. I tell him I think that it is a very good idea to seek help and I will do whatever it takes on my part. Nothing in the world means more to me now than he does.

I started looking online for information about mental disorders. I started in that same chat room where we met, which had a forum about mental health. I wanted to learn more about bipolar disorder. I had read a little about it and realized I had seen the manic/depressive stages in Chuck many times. So I was asking people online for any good websites. I found and read some, plus I made a few new friends. One was a guy who called himself Dog.

I posted:

I don't understand what is going on with my husband to be. He gets in these rages and goes for weeks without speaking to me even though we live in the same place. Then suddenly he'll get all friendly again as if nothing happened. This is putting a lot of stress on me but I really do want to understand what he is going through. I think he might be bipolar. Does anyone have any insights or suggestions that might help us get through this?

Dog wrote back to me in a private message and included an essay he had written a few years prior. It explained how he had been brutally cruel to his family and friends and was finally admitted to a hospital where he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. After some years of hospitalizations and different drugs and psychiatrists, things finally turned around for him and he was able to become a normal person again who could keep a job and get along with people. He said he hoped his story would give me some hope that my situation could be improved, as well. 

 

I found another website which was all about bipolar disorder and I paid $100 for a book that really explains what you have to do if you want to live and survive with a person with bpd. It's a huge book with lots of information and it says it requires a major commitment. I was willing to make that commitment, though. I love the guy.

I saw him outside one day and he said hello. I asked how he was doing and he said pretty good, except he really wished he was able to use his new computer. I asked why he couldn't use it and he told me it was because he did not have the XP software disc. He was afraid to try to use it, that it would crash and there would be nothing he could do about it. He didn't want all that money I had spent to be wasted.

So, I got online and ordered a new software disc, $300. It was here within 3 days and he was very happy. He even actually kissed me on the cheek when I took it over to him. At long last, it looked as though everything was going to be okay again.

Chapter 11

A couple of days before Thanksgiving Chuck called to tell me he got a big roasting hen from the food bank. He wanted to cook it on his wood stove. Maybe I could whip up some potatoes and dressing and come over and we could have a feast. Plus, I could bring over some music. He wants to hear something different. Wow. I was delighted. So I made mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, zucchini bread. I picked out five CDs. I chose some soft guitar, some jazz, all instrumental stuff.

We had a pleasant time cooking together. He told me when I first arrived to not bring up any relationship issues; we would just talk about simple things like the weather and what was going on in the world, and food. The food was fabulous. It really was a feast. I had my first experience of cooking on a wood stove.

When we sat down to eat he said, “Let's hear what music you brought.” I put on Jesse Cook. We listened for a few seconds and he said, “No, I don't like that.” So I put on another, and got the same response. We went through all five and decided to just dine in silence. Afterward, I took all the dishes home to wash. Oh well.

A few days later the snow started to fall. And fall. I've never seen so much snow. It's beautiful, of course, but day-um, that's a lot of shoveling. My driveway is about 50' long. Chuck had been using that same driveway all this time and had always kept it shoveled

out for me before he moved out here. But now there is also a back way to get to his trailer, which is about 150' long. He started using and shoveling that route instead. He never touched my driveway now.

He did, though, come over one time while I was shoveling to tell me how to shovel easier. He taught me lots of tricks, like shoveling out a path away from the driveway and you put your snow in a toboggan, pull it down the path and dump it there. That way you don't end up with huge piles on the side of the driveway. He told me that if the snow is deep to take the top half off first, then the bottom. It is twice as many movements but what you're lifting is much lighter, so you're less likely to hurt yourself. He showed me how to push, cut and bank it, too. He told me to stop frequently and just look around and enjoy the view. There's no need for it to be a hard chore.

So, I kept my driveway shoveled and I also opened a foot path between the house and the trailer. Mid-December he called me and said that since I had a path open I should come over and bring some beer. He had something to tell me. I went over.

“For weeks I've been searching online and making phone calls and I finally just found out today, Bernie died.”

“What? No! How?”

“Don't know. All I can find out is that they found him in his apartment a couple months ago. He'd been dead for a while. I tried to find a police report but can't get any real information. Are you crying?”

 

“Well, yeah. I loved Bernie, he was such a gentle soul. I'll never forget the times we spent together. I always think of him when I use my bread board.”

We commiserated for a bit, then he said, “I'd like to find out who got his trailer and boat. They should have been mine. His sister probably got everything. You know how much he hated her. And I was his best friend.”

I decided it was time to call it a night and go home.

Just before Christmas he emailed and told me to go and spend it at Phil's, like I always had. He expected to be going to the Cline's, like he had for the past 2 years. I don't know what he ended up doing, but I went to Phil's for Christmas and stayed home on New Year's Eve. I bought a nice bottle of wine and listened to some of my favorite music. Ellen called. She was home alone that night, too. We had a delightful chat.

The next day Chuck showed up at my door. He brought me a big bucket full of sand to 

sprinkle around outside so the ice wouldn't be so deadly slippery. We ended up spending the night together, holding each other in our shared sorrow for all that had been lost that year, 2007. After that we both became very solitary. I started spending more time at the computer.

At this time I heard from my dad that my mom was not doing well and wasn't expected to live much longer. There was no way to tell exactly how much longer, but her condition had really deteriorated and she was under heavy medication now all the time.