Chap. 24: The Best Laid Plans...

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The Best Laid Plans…


         Linda and I welcomed the start of 1980 by making our attendance at First Christian Assembly of God “official”: we transferred our membership there from Faith United Church of Christ. On Sunday, January 27th we were recognized as new members during the second service, along with many others.
         1980 also brought with it hectic but happy planning for Linda. She had only seven months left to complete her plans for that big year - presiding officer of the Chapter.
         She was making every effort to enlist those people she wished to have serving with her as subordinate officers. She was wrestling with choices for the theme setting and color she wanted (her first choices for each, music and red, had been used by her predecessor). To-gether, we wracked our brains to choose the music she wanted played at certain times in the meeting. On that last subject, us being Spirit-filled and all, she was a little wary of some of the songs we were considering, but I told her it was her year and she had every right to make those choices, as all before her had done. And that settled it. Ruffled feathers or not, the choices were made. She was going all the way.
         On my side of the Star coin, I had found myself becoming increasingly comfortable with the speeches I had to make as part of my new duties. And I guess it showed. Many fellow Masons from our Chapter, who've heard many deliveries on those same speeches over the years, gave me some very respectable compliments. And I felt great.
         The Lodge situation was a real bear, though. Now 4th in the chain of command, my new duties included the introduction of any visiting dignitaries to the Master for special rec-ognition. Standing up there in front of everybody, and introducing these special people. Regular meetings weren't so bad. No problems, really, because we didn't usually have that many of the "elite" show up. But I dreaded the thought of inspection night. A lot of unfamiliar names and faces. District and State level officers. Men you didn't see but maybe twice a year, unless you "circulated" and attended the installations and/or inspections for other Lodges. And, what with Star and the pianos, let alone some time for a home life, who had the time to circulate?
         The second week in January saw the removal of the cast from Linda's left hand. As I said earlier, we never realize how vital and important the simplest abilities can be, until we lose them. Now unrestrained, simply dressing by herself was a joy for Linda. Let alone the simplest chores. Not to mention complete resumption of Eastern Star duties. And an even better surprise.
         Ida Chapter's turn to entertain the residents of a local nursing home was coming up in February. Detailed discussions resulted in the formation of a quartet. Linda eagerly plunged herself into extended practice sessions during the day: "Have to get this finger mobile enough to handle good music!" A little intonation problem, but who wouldn’t have that after a 13-year vacation? Outside of that, it was obvious she hadn't lost her touch. Or her enthusiasm. Me? Out came the old cello I hadn't used since '66 myself. 14 years. But I had a problem. My sister Kim had used it after me, and then lost interest. The problem? It had been returned to normal stringing for her use. Now, if I was going to play halfway decently, I had to get it restrung backwards again. And that could be expensive.
         Downtown for an estimate. I lucked out. $35, and I even got a new bridge on it. "Praise the Lord," I said aloud as I picked it up after the job was done. They'd left the internal pieces alone when they restrung it for Kim. So they were all set. Only had to reverse bridge and strings. "Hallelujah!" (Kim’s daughter, Leah is now using it, again strung normally, in her orchestra class, also at Anderson, and having a ball. JAW 12/15/99) (I'm now getting it out and having it restrung backwards again so I can play it in my church musical group. JAW 11/24/06)
         Practicing was in earnest now, but I knew something was on Linda's mind. Something was bugging her, and she finally came out with it as we practiced one evening.
         "Jim, I think I should have the first violin part. I've played more recently than Cora. I think they're just humoring her so she won't quit."
         I could tell that "demotion" had really put a dent in her mood. Possibly because it may have reminded her of the ensemble position she was denied by Mr. Swisher. "Honey, look." I walked over, took the violin from her hands, gently set it aside, and embraced her. "Sweet-heart, there are probably a lot of people in Chapter who would agree with that. Especially with the difficulty she has playing during the meetings. But look at it this way. Even if that is true, she has had a few more years of experience than you, and besides, we shouldn't rush that fin-ger. It won't limber up over night, you know. 2nd violin may be just what the doctor ordered for that. And - if we do this right, it won't be the last time our group gets together. So you'll get another shot at it later anyhow." (I wish I'd known... JAW 4/23/85) I kissed her. Just a peck. "You see what I'm saying?"
         "Yeah. You're right." She perked up again. Especially about the finger. Let's get back to it; I'm o.k." She headed for the violin. I stopped her.
         "Hold it, lady. You don't get away that fast." I turned her back around and took her in my arms.
         "I love you, Squeek."
         "And I love you."
         One long, lingering kiss and then we went back to it.

          One afternoon the following week I got home from work, shared a “glad to be home” bear hug and kiss with Linda, and changed into more comfortable clothes. Then she and I jumped in the truck and headed for her parents’ house for dinner and an evening of cards and family time. We arrived about 6:30 P.M.
         ”Hi!” Linda called as we let ourselves in the door.
         ”Hi, honey!” mom called from the kitchen.
         ”C’mon in, you two!” dad invited from the family room. I joined him at the bar while Linda helped her mom put the finishing touches on dinner.
         ”How’re you two doing?” dad asked as I watched him finish a round of Solitaire.
         "Just fine, dad,” I said warmly.
         ”Any news yet?” he asked. “Then again, I think Squeek would’ve been shouting for joy so loud we’d hear her all the way over here if you knew for sure, right?” he laughed.
         ”Right,” I chuckled. “I have no doubt about that, dad.“ Then, a little more seriously, I added, “No, we’re not pregnant yet, but we’re sure trying.”
         “You can say that again,” Linda laughed from the adjacent kitchen. “I want a baby so bad I’m surprised Jim’s put up with me lately,” she laughed again.
         ”You make it sound like you’re after him every night,” mom laughed.
         ”I almost am,” Linda conceded, blushing heavily.
         ”But I’m not knocking it, either,” I laughed. That little comment broke us all up with laughter.
         ”Okay, Yachtzee, Jim,” mom called. “It’s on the table.” Dad put the cards down and we joined the ladies.

         After an excellent dinner of cottage ham, green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, and Jell-O for dessert, we gathered around the bar. We split into pairs, in various combinations, two of us competing in rounds of Double Solitaire at the bar while the remaining two took each other on in rounds of “solids and stripes” and “8-ball” at the nearby pool table.
         After we’d exhausted every possible pairing at those two endeavors, we gathered back at the bar to finish the evening off with a few rounds of Runs and Sets. As dad dealt the cards, one of his other favorite subjects came into the conversation. “Lin, where are you and Jim in the Eastern Star line this year?”
         ”We should be elected to the second position chairs next month, dad. From what I’ve been told, everyone thinks we’ll get it on the first ballot. And if we do, I’ll only have one more year to get ready for my year as Presiding Officer.”
         ”You’ve got the right attitude looking at it that way, too, honey,” he said warmly. “A year isn’t nearly as much time as it sounds.”
         ”I remember, dad. I remember the rush you had getting ready for your year as Master of the Lodge in 1971.”
         ”Right. And you’re where in the Lodge line this year, Jim? Senior Deacon, right?”
         ”Yep. Those strange names of dignitaries we only see a time or two a year are going to drive me nuts at introductions, too,” I laughed.
         ”Right, but that’s likely to be only at Inspection. Relax. You’ll do fine. I’ll help you rehearse them later on in the year if you want.”
         ”You’ve got a deal, dad!” We all laughed.
         As was the case about 75% of the time, Linda beat out all of us to win the Runs and Sets rounds.

         “You two um… planning on anything special when you get home?” mom teased.
         “MOM!” Linda shouted, embarrassed even though she knew it was only in fun.
         ”As a matter of fact, we are,” I piped up, smiling.
         Linda looked at me wide-eyed. “Again??” she laughed.
         ”Why not?” I laughed back. “You brought it up first last night, so I thought I’d give you a break and beat you to it tonight.”
         ”Oh, YOU!” she laughed, punching me with her elbow as she loved to do. Then she looked me in the eye, a twinkle evident in both of hers. “Are you serious, honey?”
         ”Sure, Lin. As badly as you want the baby, why pass up a perfectly good opportunity? We’ll be home early enough.”
         ”You’re on,” she grinned. “Thanks, honey!”
         ”You don’t have to thank me, Beautiful,” I said, lovingly. “The look in your eyes right now is all the thanks I need. I love you.” She blushed again.
         ”You know, you two,” dad began, “it’s really nice to see you two this much in love after eleven years. A lot of couples have settled into a routine by now. I’m glad you two haven’t.” He smiled affectionately at us both.
         Linda and I looked at each other. She beat me to this one. “We never will be in a routine, dad. I’m very proud of what Jim and I have. We couldn’t afford a honeymoon other than our wedding night at the Sheraton-Gibson. But it doesn’t bother me because our life is like one. We’re still as much in love now as we were then.”
         ”I know you two are,” mom interjected. I only have to look at you two to tell that.”
         ”Yeah, I’m very proud of what we have, too,” I said softly, lovingly stroking Linda’s long jet-black hair for a second.
         After a few more minutes of small talk, we headed home. It was just after 10:00 P.M.

         When we got home, we made sure everything was in order for our routine the next morning, and headed for the bedroom. Linda began unbuttoning her blouse. “Allow me, gorgeous!” I said, lovingly brushing her hand away and taking over the task.
         ”Ah, the Royal treatment again tonight, huh?” she laughed. “That’s four nights in a row you’ve undressed me. I could get used to this!”
         ”Good,” I said. “I want you to.” I smiled lovingly.
         ”Now, Jim, how would you really feel if you had to do this every night?” she asked, half smiling, half seriously.
         ”Darling, think about the person to whom you’re asking that, my love,” I laughed. “You’ve got a guy here who’s still head-over-heels in love with you after 11 years, and who relished every minute of undressing you, bathing you, and dressing you for five weeks straight when you had that cast on your hand.”
         ”Geez, Jim, I forgot about that cast,” she said, looking quickly at her left hand. “You really DO like doing this, don’t you?”
         Preparing to pull her slacks down, I stopped a moment, took her head in my hands, and looked lovingly into her eyes. “Yes, darling, I adore every moment of this. I really do.”
         ”I’m so glad I found you, Jim,” she said warmly as tears filled her eyes. She laid her head on my shoulder. “And I’ve always been so very, very glad that you didn’t walk away like all my other ‘friends’.”
         ”I’m the lucky one here, Squeek,” I said as I caressed her gently. I could never find anyone as loving, or as devoted as you, sweetheart. I love you.”
         As we held each other close I ran my hands up and down her back. Then I gently resumed undressing her.

         Saturday, February 23, 1980 - Our little benefit show went beautifully. The quartet's numbers were alternated with those of our kazoo band. Yep, you read it right. Our kazoo band. Of which Linda was also a member. I knew she'd be in on the ground floor of that out-fit. With her new, totally outgoing personality, and her childlike outlook, it was inevitable. And she loved every minute of it. From the red party hat right down to the red, white and blue paper vest. Especially when our Chapter's own Uncle Sam, Charles Kachel, was leading the whole thing.
         Charles had built a marvelous local reputation. One look at him and the reason why was obvious. In costume, those who didn't already know him couldn't tell him from the fa-mous war posters. The resemblance was unbelievable. And his dedication to the effort and what Sam stands for just served to multiply the entire image. I don't know if she ever had a chance to tell him, but Charles was something very special to Linda, even more so where Un-cle Sam was concerned. No matter how bad she ever felt, even if she'd had a seizure only hours before, one look at Uncle Sam and she forgot all about that seizure, and anything else bugging her. She became her "old self" in seconds. And many's the time she really needed that, too.
         The same love and admiration also went to Charles' wife Gladys, who is organist for our Chapter, musical director of our kazoo band, and the fourth member of our quartet. And I have to agree with Linda 100%: Gladys' knowledge of music and sense of rhythm and timing makes our Chapter meetings much more enjoyable, the way they were meant to be. To say nothing of the band and quartet. Replace Gladys? You gotta be kidding! When she decides to retire, Chapter's in trouble!
         If Linda's said it before, it bears repeating. Publicly. Here. If she hasn't, then this is from both of us:

         Thank you, Gladys and Charles, for all the cheer, joy, enthu-
siasm, zest, and just plain fun that you two gave to Linda through-
out her Chapter life. To her you both were very special. And she said
so openly. Many times. Thank you for being there.


         The following week, the last in February, was just like any other. Outside the office, there was piano work for me, Star meetings at other chapters for Linda.
         Thursday there was our own Chapter meeting. And an extra surprise. For the first time, Linda's entire contribution to the night's meeting - from opening ceremonies right through the initiation ceremony to the closing - was completely letter-perfect. She'd never done that. Not 100%. It's not easy for anyone, let alone for her. A seizure even days before could have blanked her mind of any part of any speech. Even 1 word and it wouldn't have been 100%. And that night she had it all. When I told her, afterward, she was ecstatic. (I always followed her speeches, word for word, in my copy of the ritual, to help her rehearse, later, any rough spots that turned up. JAW 12/15/99)
         Friday brought her another joy. She loved snow. Loved to romp and play, especially snowball fights with Little Sister. By bedtime Friday, it was a blizzard. We had almost 3 inches by then, and she couldn't wait to see what we had in the morning.
         Saturday, when we awoke at about 11:00 a.m., the first thing she did was run to the window.
         "Jim! Look!!"
         I moved quickly to her side. "Geez!"
         "How much do you think it is?" She couldn't contain the enthusiasm any longer.
         "Looks to be about 6-8 inches, honey. This is just what we bought the truck for. It's nice to feel secure about getting around town right now."
         "Yeah. Can we go to mom and dad's?"
         "Why not? Won't be much else going on today, anyhow. I'll drop you off and surprise my folks too by showing up to get some piano work out."
         Her folks were slightly surprised. Mine were flabbergasted. But then, mom never did like me driving in that kind of weather without a darn good reason. Mothers can be like that.

         That night, a few minutes after we climbed into bed, we lay in each other's arms, her head on my chest.
         "Jim, that snowfall last night was just what I'd been praying for."
         “You asked for this?" I wasn't upset, just openly surprised.
         "Yep."
         "I should have known," I chuckled. "You and snow are inseparable.” I thought to my-self, “Now that’s faith!” (Little did I know the strength of her faith and the depth of truth in my last statement. JAW 9/10/99)
         Every time it snows, now, I think of her, even after 20 years. Sometimes remembering all the fun, honesty and love that we shared. Sometimes remembering that last snowfall she asked for, as if she's saying "I’m thinking of you, darling!" or “Remember when I asked for this, honey?” to me with the latest one. Sometimes hurting a great deal deep, down inside because she's no longer here; but if she were, she'd still be suffering through those seizures. But it's a great feeling to know that I have a very special Guardian Angel watching over me, who loves me as much now, today, as she did the last time I held her in my arms, and that I will see her again when my time comes. JAW 1/25/00)
         A short while later, we were both sound asleep.
         Sunday was a strange experience. Ever since the cast came off her hand, Linda hadn't griped about housework, because she was too overjoyed at how great it felt to have full mo-bility back. But, she was still no more fond of it than any housewife.
         And yet, Sunday afternoon, she threw herself into a massive "catch-up" project on the usual drudgery - dishes, laundry, and all that. It was really uncanny. And she didn't understand it either:
         "I don't really know why, Jim. I just feel like it. Don't want to stop."
         "Well, honey, I'm not gonna knock it!" I admitted.
         "Neither am I. I've put some of this off way too long. Thanks for the patience." She kissed me.
         “I do have a confession to make. That patience was just beginning to run a little thin.” I kissed her.
         "Sorry about that, chief," She laughed.

         Monday, March 3, 1980. Things were even more different this morning. She was up to have breakfast with me. And we hadn't done that on a weekday for a long, long time. It felt great.
         "Whatcha doing tonight?"
         "Well, I told dad I'd be up to help him with a problem on that upright he's working on. What about you, Lin?"
         "There's an inspection I could go to, but I'm having trouble lining up a ride. I'll have supper on time anyhow. That way we're both covered."
         "Right."
         About 15 minutes later, I headed for the door. She tagged along.
         "See you tonight, honey." I warmly embraced and kissed her. "I love you," I said, feeling an unusual amount of emotion in that statement.
         “I love you, Jim. Have a good day." She smiled and I squeezed her again.
         "Bye-bye."
         "Bye-bye."
         That evening, I was a trifle late getting home, arriving about 6:00, but supper was ready, as she had promised, so I was able to avoid losing more time. I wanted to stop at Henry's and ask him a question about the tape unit in the truck, and he closed at 7:00.
         "I don't have a ride yet, so I'll probably be here when you get home," she said as we got up from the table. She smiled and winked at me.
         "I might just change my mind about going," I said with a grin as I walked up and made a physical pass at her. She stepped up to me without saying a word, put her hands on my shoulders, and slowly slid them down my chest. Gently pressing her right hand into my crotch for a lingering moment, she put her arms around me and laid her head on my chest.
         “I love you, Jim!” she said gently, and with more emotion in her voice than I’d heard for a long time. “I’ve always been so very thankful that you didn’t walk away like everyone else. I just feel like I haven’t been able to find a way to really show you how much I love you and how very much you mean to me. I hope and pray that I’ll get that chance. I’d like you to know how I really, truly feel about you. How very deeply I really do love you.”
         “Don’t you think I know how you feel after all these years, darling?” I asked gently, trying to let her know that I understood and she didn’t have to worry herself about it to that level anymore. I found myself enjoying the intimacy but wondering why, or how, an innocent, loving pass that I’d made at her so many times over the years should bring it out right then.
         “I know what you’re saying, sweetheart, and I love you for it. But I don’t think there are words that can tell you what I really want to convey. It’s not just in my heart, honey, it’s become part of what I am. And words don’t convey that kind of feeling.”
         Moments later she seemed her old self again, as if she’d found her answer or turned that one over to the Lord to solve. I made another pass at her.
         "Go on, get outta here," she laughed, punching me with that proverbial elbow. "Plenty of time for that tonight."
         "Okay, okay, I'm going," I grinned.

         "Hello, Henry," I said as I entered his shop minutes later.
         "Hi, Jim. What's on your mind?"
         "Would it be possible to put an output jack on the cassette deck in the truck? It's the only cassette deck I've got right now and I need to copy a few cassettes to a reel."
         "Should be easy enough. Let's take a look."
         The output jack installed, we started some idle chatter as I was getting ready to leave. Then Henry's face lit up as he got some kind of sudden idea.
         "Hey, Jim. You work with computers, right?"
         "Right. I'm a programmer."
         "That's what I thought I remembered you saying."
         "Why?"
         "I'm thinking of getting in on this home computer thing. If my planning and research work out, how'd you like to work part-time for me - writing the basic packages for those things - you know, balance the checkbook sort of thing. And show the customers how to use them?"
         I was intrigued by the proposal. "Most of those are mini computers, though, Henry. They use a language different from the big systems. But I could learn it for that matter. Wouldn't take long."
         "Great. About how many hours would it take to write a package like that? I'm looking at cost on the front end."
         The discussion continued, Henry noting many things for his research. "I'll let you know when it materializes," he said as I headed for the door.
         "Great. Just give me a call if you have any more questions," I said, closing the door behind me as I left. I headed for the house.

         Moments later, as I passed within 2 blocks of the apartment, I suddenly remembered my tuning kit was still there. I dropped by to grab it.
         "What're you doing back so soon?" Lin called as I entered.
         "Forgot my tuning kit."
         "Oh."
         "By the way," I called back as she continued her work in the kitchen, "there's a chance I might be working part-time for Henry. He's looking at getting into that new minicomputer thing for doing his paperwork as well as selling them. I'll fill you in when I get home."
         As I spoke, I suddenly noticed that the whole place was just about immaculate. No dust anywhere. The bed was even made. "First time she's done that in weeks!" I said to my-self. "Gotta find out what's going on." I headed for the kitchen.
         "Hey, Squeek, what's gotten into you all of a sudden? It's not like you to dive into housework like this. This whole place is in A-1 shape. Uh...you wouldn't be hiding something from me would you?" I asked, smiling with a sudden thought, "like a baby?"
         "No, I'm not hiding anything," she laughed. "No, I'm not pregnant. But I wish I was," she finished, a little wistfully. "No, I can't really explain all this. I just suddenly felt like doing everything around here at once. Everything I've neglected. I don't know. I got this feeling yesterday. It's a weird way to feel, and it hasn't left yet. I guess it will when I get everything done."
         I hugged her. "See you later, beautiful. And don't let that feeling bother you. If it's still bugging you when I get home, I'll uh...take your mind off it for awhile," I said, caressing her as I spoke the words.
         "Right. I should have known," she said, smiling. "See you later, honey."
         "Bye-bye," I said, heading through the living room for the door.
         "Bye-bye. And don't forget to tell me about Henry. I love you. "
         "I won't. Promise. I love you, too, sweetheart." I closed the door, jumped in the truck and took off for my parents' place.
         I began piano work that night at 7:30 p.m.

         At 9:15 p.m., George and Ginny sat down at the bar in their family room for a few rounds of double solitaire.
         I had just completed a particular restoration operation and reached a convenient stop-ping point. I looked at my watch. "9:45 p.m. 'Lou Grant' comes on at 10:00. The logical thing to do is use that 15 minutes in restoration. But what can I accomplish in just 15 minutes?" For the first time since I could conveniently remember, my "totally logical, computer-oriented mind", that had driven Linda humorously buggy so often, was at a loss for a decision, a course of action. And I just couldn't understand why.
         Linda, still at home, enters the bathroom. As she stands with her back to the sink, she leans forward. A seizure strikes. As before, she lets out that ear-splitting yell, her head turns to the left, and every muscle in her body contracts. She becomes rigid as a board, as she's always done. But this time she was also leaning forward. And the muscle con-tractions that made her legs rigid also propelled her, with tremendous force, toward the tile wall over the bathtub, now just a couple feet away, and directly in her path…
         At that very same instant, as their current game proceeded, George suddenly saw a "light-colored shadow" come over his right shoulder from behind and pause briefly, flicker-ing, just behind Ginny and above her left shoulder. He stared, totally absorbed now, as it slowly passed further away from them, toward the opposite, far end of that family room, passing slowly and low, as if remembering, over the long dimension of that same pool table where Linda and I had first confessed our love for each other 14 years before. Then, ascending in height as it continued, it paused again as it touched the ceiling above the center of that far wall, then slowly vanished through the ceiling of that family room, not to be seen again. Fas-cinated, he remained motionless for just a moment.
         "Yachtzee, are you all right?"
         That harmless, loving inquiry bolted him back to reality. One last fleeting, puzzled thought of that "spectacle" he'd just witnessed, and the game continued.


         Linda had passed away.


This work is taken from “A Once In A Lifetime Love: An Autobiography of Two High School Sweethearts”, copyright 2000, as yet unpublished, by the same author.