The Other Casualty Of War

This is a photo of my mother in August, 1941,

leading Prince & Queenie to the auction block.

This was traumatic.

The United States was on the verge of entering

Word War 11 and the government had taken over

their land in New Brighton, Minnesota, to build

a munitions plant. This was traumatic

.

The National Guard was called out and did not

even allow the families to gather the produce out

of their gardens! This was traumatic.

We live with this, to this day.

The blessing is that none of Dorothy's 

four brothers perished in the war.

Visit to Grandma Geisbauer

The occasion is my First Communion, May 20, 1962,

54 years ago. I was 7, Grandma was 77.

Any milestone in a child's life is important across

generations. Being unable to attend the actual event

at St. Joan Of Arc, of course, Grandma wished to

see me in my dress. So, it was off to Rice Street in

St. Paul. I lived too far away from my other Grandma.

I remember this so vividly-Grandma didn't want to

crush my veil, so her arm is barely touching me 

outside of the veil.

I wonder if she had memories of milestones at the

church of her childhood. I always ask people if they

feel a kind of pull toward places of their past.

They always say yes, as I do.

As was typical of the time, the film was not developed

until 2 years later!

Dr. Wegener

I had been wondering how it was that I landed at 

the Mayo Clinic with such speed. I knew there had

to be some kind of connection, but I didn't know the

specifics until my last visit to my ENT doctor.

I selected this doctor completely at random. I live

within a mile of a medical center, but when I was told

that I could be seen in 3 weeks time, that just wasn't good

enough. I picked an ENT specialty clinic on the edge of

downtown Minneapolis, an area I know very well.

My doctor looks like he is about 12. The gentleman the 

second from the left is his father, also an ENT. They both

trained at Mayo. The gentleman the second from the right

is Dr. Wegener. The group is standing on the site where the

Gonda Building stands today and where my doctor's office is.

The Belle of Belle Plaine

While not the best photograph, one can easily get the idea.

My Dad managed to capture the essence of the best person

I ever knew, Dolores Stark. 

Her husband George, was Dad's cousin.

The occasion is probably a wedding anniversary of

George & Dolores. Likely their 40th, as Dolores passed

away at age 65, in 1984. This is 1979. It is at 

St. Mark's Catholic Church in Shakopee.

Dolores loved everyone-especially George-and everyone

loved her! 

She would not fit in everyone's small box. She had uncorrected

strabismus (cross-eyes), but to me, it only added to her charm.

      

It was because of Dolores & George, that I became a cabin person.

They owned a place on Prior Lake and for 2 years (I was 6&7),

so did our family. I can still see them coming to visit us in their boat.

Always warm. Always kind. Always happy.

My Mother called her "The Belle of Belle Plaine"-

without a hint of derision.

Daddio

It has been 10 years now since my Dad went straight 

to heaven, I am certain.

He was lovely. So well mannered. He never even swore!

A hyper-spaz, he was not.

The occasion here, is the arrival of

his grandson Sebastian on Christmas Eve, 1987.

That smile!

Dad spent 12 days in hospice in 2006.Jeff Calder & I took

turns spending the nights with him.

Thank you Jeff.

Growing up, I could not imagine anything more terrible

than his death. Then, I found out that there was something 

more terrible-his suffering.

Dad was really smart. He knew that he couldn't control

everybody and everything. He let people be who they were.

He didn't try to hide his malice behind a mask of virtue.

He just didn't have any malice at all.

The Other Door

I had been dealing with what I thought was an ear infection,

for weeks, mid October, until mid December, 2014.

Longer than made any sense.

Nothing my ENT doctor tried resolved it. Shortly after he said,

"We have to start thinking outside the box!" and said the word

"Wegener's", about 6 weeks in, I had a prescient dream.

I was riding my bicycle fast and became aware

that someone was riding beside me on my left.

The person was a woman with dark hair.

The woman reached over and put her hand on

my lower left arm, but I got away. The chase was on.

The scene changed to being in some type of large

building. I was relieved that I seemed to be able to

elude this person. I saw an open elevator door and

when I looked in, it was empty, so I entered. However,

she came in behind me! This is what the elevator looks

like in the Gonda Building at the Mayo Clinic, that takes 

me the the 18th floor, to the woman with the dark hair.

The Open Door

Pretty boring door, isn't it?

This is the side door into St. Austin's Catholic Church,

at 40th & Thomas in North Minneapolis.

It was a short hop off the playground of our school and I 

passed through this door many times, much to my relief.

In the Catholic Church, the age of reason is age 7.  I knew

at a very young age that I could not live life apart from my

very own personal relationship with God.

So, I made very many "visits." I was only and ever the only

soul in the church during the day. I can only remember the

door being locked a couple of times.

This wonderful experience, starting at age 10 or so, has prepared

me, far into my future, for a different kind of door.