Tuesday, November 17, 2009

17 NOVEMBER any year......is......







A time when people all over the world do something called NaNoWriMo which stands for National November Write Month. The idea is to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. This will be the month that many do not back up their work, the computer crashes and panic attacks occur. Words like: fried, my computer hates me, my computer is 12 year old but gently used.....are common. For those of use who do not do the NaNoWriMo experience, we aren't quite sure where the energy comes from to pound keys and form a story within our heads which makes sense after hours upon hours of developing a story line with characters and giving descriptions which make the characters real. We should be impressed. Now, that is one thing that happens on and around the 17th of November.

Another thing that happens on the 17th, years unknown, are the birth of people who are either admired through friends, family, or 'other'. The two men I am speaking of share their birth date with Rock Hudson. One of the guys is the husband of a long term best friend. The other, is Tom's dad, Les.

Les would be a honorary best man, although the court didn't see it that way. We must have a living breathing persons. We chose 17 November for a marriage date.

As we flipped through the wedding book recently, we were reminded of the daisies in the snow. May I explain? Tom and I reunited 2 January of 1998 with a phone call. Fifty-five days later, I had a daisy mum with 55 blooms delivered to his office. Later, he would heel it in by the back door. Forgotten. A few days before the wedding, before the house was redone, he was putting plastic around the foundation. He had to dig away the snow to put up the plastic. There, buried in the snow, was the daisy mum with five blossoms, protected from the elements by the snow cover. Tom opened the back door and hollered, ELODEE come here!!! We found a pot and brought the plant in to warm, if they were able to bloom, they would be the flowers as a bouquet.

Although we wanted people who knew us to be with us, at least in spirit, we decided to invite them virtually and ask them to pick the kind of holder we would put their candle in. The idea was to have the candles glowing as a resemblance of their friendship. I called mother and asked her what she wanted for a candle holder; she said watermelon. We put the piece of water melon in the fridge and laid the candle on the table. The idea was to light the candles representing friends and family before the ceremony.

Mother was a watermelon
Bob, Tom's son, was a brass horn candle holder
Rachel was a Ivy holder with a teddy bear
Ryen was a crown
Mary Ann was a pitcher, which had been their mother's
Dixie was a Crystal pitcher
Ellen was a crystal vase
Soozi was a Pink Fosteria holder, as was Ann
Cindy was a wine glass with a daisy
Jennifer a crystal heart
Harriet a sherbet dish
Diane a Jayhawk cup
Jim a pewter pitcher
Bill and Cynthia Kokopeli
Steven and Amy a copper boiler
Kay a Crystal pitcher

Yet, after we had lit the candles and came to stand in front of the clerk of the court in the living room, only 16 candles glowed. Who was missing?

Before the ceremony started, I realized it was the piece of watermelon. I said to Brian, who was the living, breathing best man, "Get Grandma out of the fridge". He didn't seem to hear me, I repeated it, "Brian, get grandma out of the fridge, only this time much louder. He still didn't seem to understand. Tom said to his son, Get the piece of watermelon out of the fridge and bring it to the table. Ah, mother got lit, she had the salt just as she wished and we went on with the ceremony.

After a toast, Bud, Brian, Tom, and I went to the Speak Easy for supper. We all shared a piece of cheese cake after our meal. We had our picture taken in front of the old car. It is a tradition we have done every year, except in 2002, when, on the 17th of November we were with mother in Thief River Falls, when she perished at suppertime.

This is our eleventh anniversary.

Daisies are 4 ever and so is my sweet Thomas.

Light a candle for us, won't you?

et

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