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." 

Skip-Bo

Thursday

April 26, 2001

My Darling Husband,

Again, I miss you today and especially tonight.

By source, fair use
Wikipedia

This morning I saw Vern and Cathy Summerlin and Larry and Miriam Rea.  They gave me a welcome hug and talked about missing you. I sat by Rob Simbeck and Debbie and Rita Venable who remembered you. Doug Markham says how he misses you and gave me a hug.

My darling, you are missed so much.

Tonight at dinner, Larry reminisced about when you two saw the Olympic swimmer who undressed in front of you two without any embarressment. Larry said he will always remember that and being with you.

Our speaker was Kingsport, Tennessee Vice Mayor Nathan Vaughn. He was interesting, welcoming, and proud of his city. He was born in New Jersey but went to school here. Our meal was delicious. This is a nice motel and the help is friendly. You would like being here.

During the Board Meeting, Miriam taught me a card game called SKIP BO. It was fun. I think I might get it for Michael for his birthday. 

Now it's bedtime and I am alone, missing and wanting you as I always do. To be in a motel without you is heartbreaking. I love you so.

Norma

Only You

4 P.M.

April 25, 2001

Ramada Inn, Kingsport, TN

Jim and Norma, circa 1995

Dear Darling Jim,

I have just checked into Room 125 -- ground floor -- for the TOWA meeting and the tears are streaming down my cheeks as I look at this silent room. I am missing you so much.

Will this ache in my heart ever stop? I don't think so.

You should be here with me. I don't like being without you. I utterly despise the word "widow." I hate everything that it stands for, yet no on can fully understand these feelings until they are in this desolate, horrible place.

To have the empty place at my side morning, noon, and night is worse than I would ever imagine. I am not a whole person anymore. When you died, half of me died, too. Some days I just don't want to go through the mundane hours.

To see happy, or even angry, couples sometimes feels like my heart is being stabbed and I'm dying a slow death. No, I don't want anyone else. I just want you, my sweetheart of 50 years. Only you.

I am yours forever and ever.

Norma

Going to TOWA Without You

April 23, 2001

Dear Jim,

I am getting ready to go to the TOWA Conference in Kingsport, Tennessee and I remember the fun times we have had at them. It won't be the same without you to share the happy times.

Jim April 6, 1961, Valley Forge, PA,
on a business trip early in his career as
an insurance salesman

Today, I've been busy washing clothes and I called Merrily Moss to send a "hello" to everyone because I decided that I was afraid to drive alone. Merrily said, "Come over and go with us." She made my day. I had been feeling sorry for myself. I wanted to go, but I was afraid.

Norma, April 1961,
outside Independence Hall, Phil. PA,
on a business trip with Jim

Oh, how my heart aches for you to be here and for us to be sharing fun times, the drive and the experiences at the Conference!

We always enjoyed the camaraderie, you seeing your fellow writers, me, enjoying the Spouse Trips. We always enjoyed the area, wherever we were. And the motel. Of course, I always said it was another "honeymoon trip." I miss you so much -- it's just so lonely going to "fun places" without you. No one can take your place in my heart. You've had it for 50 years and I want you here with me still. I'll never stop loving and missing you. 

All my love, always and forever.

Norma Jean

Jim and Norma, circa 1995 on a TOWA trip