Only You

8:24

Tuesday AM

May 17, 2001

Dear Jim,

I just woke up from a vivid dream and I want to tell you about it.

"Only You" by The Platters, Jim and Norma's song

We were married and Connie was about seven years old. She was wearing a pair of shorts like your milkman overalls. You and I were driving to a house that we were thinking about buying. It was in Detroit and one block off Vernor Highway. I have never seen a street like it. In my dream, I didn't like the house being too close to Vernor, but I liked the house itself. It was a two-story white house. Vernor was beyond the houses. We had gone through the house and had to go to some office building to sign the papers. When we got there, Connie and a friend left, walking down the street.

You and I looked at the room. It was filled with about 75 people who were sitting, waiting to buy their houses. We each had to get a chest xray before we could purchase the house. I told you that we would be waiting for forever, so let's go home and make love. In my dream, the desire was so strong. I said we could come back tomorrow, but you wanted to drive around the house once more. We did, and saw a huge tree growing sideways, the trunk roots were enormous, but since the house was high up off the street, like on a little hill, it was OK. 

You said, "We will have that tree removed as soon as the deal goes through." There was a younger tree growing straight up from the lower, flat part of the yard. We drove back to wait in line to get an xray and buy the property. 

I wonder about this dream. I have never seen a street like that, with the lawn in between the pavement. I remember we looked at houses down near Vernor, but Connie was a baby.

What I awakened, the desire for sex was as strong as if you were still in bed with me. Oh, my darling, I need you so much. I love you so much. Life is so meaningless without you. 

I need to tell you that Walter isn't well and has made two trips to the emergency room this week. His hands, legs and feet are swollen and blotchy. David thinks is might be rheumatic fever, but Walter won't go to Springfield for tests or for a referral. If you were here, maybe hewould let you drive him to David's. (Norma's note: It was gout.)

Also, Margaret's father, John B___, is having more health problems. Couldn't breathe, that's better, but Mr. B___ can't stand up, he has no strength in his legs.

Also, I'm scared about my eyes failing. [Norma was diagnosed with glaucoma.] I need you here to give me confidence and comfort and help if it does happen. 

I miss you so much every hour of every day in every single way. My darling, I treasure my memories of life with you. 

All my love always, 

Norma

12:30 PM

P.S.

Jim, I can't bear my life. I am nothing without you. I am crying now. All I do is cry. The tears fall but I don't feel better. I feel like an empty pitcher. I am not content anywhere or with anyone. The grief support isn't helping. I know everyone carries sorrow and pain and I'm not the only one, but I'm lost without you. You were my life, my reason for living and I have none -- nothing to live for now. I just want you back here with me -- loving and caring for me. Only you can make my life complete -- remember it was our song by The Platters. It was popular while you were in Korea and when you came home. I will always remember those days. I wish it was 1953 again.

This home is just a shell now without you. You know that anywhere you wanted to go was OK with me -- just as long as I could live with you. It was my only desire. I love you so deeply. The pain of not having you here 24 hours a day is more than I can bear. 

Oh, for one more kiss and hug from you, it would be heaven for me.

How can I ever survive this loss? It is more than I can bear. My heart aches for you. My arms are empty. I just go through the days. 

Probably people  would be suprised to read this. I try to act like "I'm adjusting," but I'm not really. It is only a facade. 

Oh, Darling, I want you here with me to love and you knew that I adored you. I am lost without you. I miss being married, but only to you. 

I haven't done
anything but cry and miss you today. 

I'll love you forever.

Norma

Gossip From The Dentist

Tuesday

May 8, 2001

Dear Darling Sweetheart,

Again, today I am missing you. I reread your 1954 letters and love you more as I reread them.

I went to the dentist today to get my teeth cleaned. You would be proud of me -- I told them that I didn't want xrays today. I'm going to Dr. Bond on Thursday and I just didn't want to do it.

Norma took her dental visits very seriously.
Unlike Jim.

Dr. Powers came in and said, "I sure miss the big guy." I didn't cry. (I am now.) He said that he will always remember talking to you at Rotary on Wednesday, the day before you died. You asked how James, his son, was and said to tell him "hello" for you. Dr. Powers said he called James that night and told him, never dreaming that it would be your last conversation. Dr. Powers says that you are remembered and mentioned at Rotary often. I asked if James still owns part of Barnhill's. Yes and they have 32 restaurants now. James sold the water company (Crystal Springs) for $17 million. Of course, he had partners. 

James is still in Phoenix but will be moving the business back to Nashville one day. 

Give Janice* a hug and kiss for me. I miss you, Darling. I love you so.

Norma

Notes:

Janice was Jim and Norma's daughter who died in 1968. 

On Terrapins And Other Things

Friday

May 4, 2001

Dear Jim, 

Eastern Box Turtle

I was just looking at your letters and reliving Spring, 1954*. Oh, what I wouldn't give to turn back the clock. Thank you for such precious and, sometimes, bittersweet memories. I know there were times I was scared and doubted if we would ever marry. You had such a hard time adjusting to civilian life. My self-esteem was never really good -- after you came home, it would rise and fall easily.

But that's not the reason for this letter.

I was putting TOWA stuff "somewhere" and came across some facts that I heard at the Saturday morning meeting with a ranger from Warioto State Park.** It was such a habit to jot it down notes and tell you about them for one of your articles:

• "Ridges are like wrinkles in a carpet." 
• "Rocks make up the variety in the land." 
• "Kentucky coffee trees are in the park; one of the oldest trees is here." 
• "Terrapine is the Algonquin word for box turtle." 

Then I realized the futility of what I was doing and I was filled with crushing sadness. I am overcome with tears and grief as I write this. Jim, I can't bear this separation from you. My heart aches with sorrow and loneliness. My tears flow like rain and the sobbing starts. 

I watched Dr. Phil on Oprah and it broke my heart. He talked about a joyful marriage and I remember ours. Sometimes now I wish (or think maybe is a better word) that if we hadn't loved each other so much, maybe I wouldn't feel so empty, lost, and without hope. You said I was "strong," but the truth is that I could be strong for you and because of you.

I look at our wedding pictures and remember the joy and happiness I felt that day and up to the horrible day that you left me. I know that you didn't leave me by choice. Your big, wonderful heart just gave out. 

We had so many plans - going to Tucson in February. And just living in our home that we loved. I'm still here, but it is empty and lonely without you. Oh, my darling husband, I miss you so much. Life just doesn't have any meaning without you. I love Connie, but it's a different kind of love. A wife without her darling husband is lost. 

Until we meet again, I will always be your wife. I love you so much.

Norma

Notes:
* Norma saved Jim's letters from his tour in the Navy during the Korean War. They are available to read at Letters From The USS Valley Forge (http://ussvalleyforge.blogspot.com/2015/04/hello-from-boot-camp.html).
** Norma was a stickler for details, ask anyone who watched her carefully measuring ingredients while cooking, but I believe she's confused about "Warioto State Park" because there isn't a listing with that name in Tennessee; perhaps it's been renamed. My guess is that the ranger she references mentioned the Warioto Audobon Society, which is active in the Dunbar Cave State Park and she confused the two when journaling.

Vacations Without You

At Home

Sunday Night

April 29, 2001

Dear Darling Husband,

I am home, sitting on the bed, watching a program on the Shakers*. Remember our trips to Pleasant Hill, Kentucky? I think of them now and my memories of the village, of the sweet waitress we had three times in a row who told us "no tipping" or she would be fired. You asked if she had a pocket in her skirt under her apron and then gave her $3.00 with instructions for her boss to call us.

I missed you on all of the TOWA day trips, during meals and especially at night. My thoughts are always about you. I keep reliving our life together. I miss you so much.

I want you to know how much I appreciate our life together. You never picked on me, you treated me as your wife, not as a slow-witted person**. I guess I just took that for granted. Now I see how fortunate I was. Traveling with you was fun and we saw so many places. I miss that now. It just wasn't as much fun going somewhere without you and I know that can't change. No one can take your place. I am lost without you. You made my life worthwhile and meaningful. I love you so and I always will.

Norma

Notes:

* I used to joke that my parents were "into" Protestants cults of the 19th century, but it wasn't much of a joke and it was mostly true. Jim and Norma spent family vacations exploring The Shakers, Quakers, Mennonites, Amish, you name it. If there was a historical location with a Protestant group attached to it, they were there. And if there was a cookbook in the gift shop, Norma bought it.

** Norma was hardly slow-witted but she questioned herself and her abilities. Once, she confessed to me that during an argument, Jim told her she didn't have a sense of humor, which cut her to the quick and his words continued to her hurt her after his death. I guffawed and blurted, "Of course you have a sense of humor! If you hadn't, living with him would have been insufferable!" She tightened her grip on the steering wheel but turned her attention briefly from the road. "I wish I had told you that before. It was the worst thing your father ever said to me and I never knew what to say to him."