The other day I told Der Bingle he was going to have to get blunt with LZP about what he wanted for his birthday. Oh, I’m planning gag things and thinking of even mailing cookies . . . remember, I don’t have kitchen experience. They would probably be a gag reflex gift. However, we wanted to get him something that he would be able to enjoy.
So Der Bingle calls and LZP says, well, actually, he has been having a lot of fires out in his fire pit and he’d really appreciate some firewood.
I imagine he is thinking, adjusting, and coming to terms the best he can with the world since Jody passed away. I hope I’m not upsetting him by writing this here, but I think it’s important for family and friends to remember that the death of someone you have loved and cared for for 26 years is not an event. It is not a date on the calendar. It is harder than I can imagine.
I think of him watching the fire in Iowa And my daydream follows: I think about him, Der Bingle and me founding a gathering spot in LaGrange County: using the pot-belly stove in the kitchen, replanting a garden where Grandma’s used to be, fooling around with well water, cursing when we go to make a renovation and realize we have to cut through an 8 by 8 oak or walnut beam.
A place where his sons and our sons can visit and stay as long as they want.
Maybe try our hand at canning – my mother tried making ketchup and some blew up. Might need to re-think that. I know, freezing; we could freeze strawberries.
Get a couple of shotguns and guard the sweet corn patch from coons.

Well, no matter what shows up down the road, we want him to know there’s a light on in the window for him . . . always.