Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Grant and Claire the day she said, "Sure, I'll take you off your folks' hands."
Well, the countdown has begun. Tomorrow wife Janice goes to the airport to pick-up eldest son, Seth. Friday, I'm taking the whole day off to prepare, load the rig, and get on the noon ferry for Orcas Island. Friday night, Janice and I are hosting the rehearsal dinner. Saturday is "W" Day..our youngest son Grant and his bride, Bubbly Little Claire will exchange vows and begin their life's adventures. (Well, actually, CONTINUE their life's adventures.) Sunday will be kind of a wind down day as guests leave with each ferry.
Janice and I will be staying an extra night, however. Saturday will be Grant and Claire's first day of marriage, Monday will mark me and Janice's 35th year. So what am I going to tell the young couple on Friday night when I ask the gathered guests to raise their glasses? I'm not 100% sure. Still, I think I'll ask all who have been married awhile to consider whether or not they have enjoyed an easy life with their spouse....and then ask if they are having a GOOD life with their spouse. That's the key. Life's not easy, but with a the right partner, it sure as hell can be good.
To Grant and Claire!
The Happy Family L to R: My bride of 35 years, Janice, Eldest son Seth, the Happy Couple, the Old Farmer in the back.
Monday, March 2, 2009
I stopped by the Evergreen Cemetery in Everett today, like I do every year at this time. I was actually a day late. 99 years ago yesterday the boys gathered on the knoll on the north end took their last mortal breaths. First I cleaned off the marker I bought for Benny Jarnigan and then moved on to check on the others. Will Raycroft, Sid Jones, Frank Martin, Johnny Parzybok, Joe Pettit, Lewis Walker and Earl Longcoy were all paid a visit. On my way out I stopped over in the "new" section and paid my respects of "the Snow King" himself, Bill Harrington, resting with a shared headstone next to his beloved Lillian.
The mood wasn't all that somber. In fact, there was definitely a sense of anticipation. 99 years is a long time to be kept silent. I came away with a definite feeling the boys want me to knuckle down and get on with it. They definitely think it's time their story is told.
I promised them the next time I stopped by, sometime this summer, I'd have "Vis Major" in hand.
"Be patient," I told them. "A guy only has one shot at a deal like this. It's gotta be done right."
Anticipation; they feel it.
So do I.