The next picture of Edward was again on the farm and winter. He is not yet two years of age as he is still on the farm. His father died when he was two years and two months of age.
We discovered these two pictures (the one in yesterday's post and this one) in his mother's Hope Chest in the early 2000s. Ed had had the chest since she died in 2000. He was excited to find them as he did not remember seeing them when he lived at home.
This was by far Ed's greatest find in his mother's Hope Chest. It wasn't with the other pictures but in the bottom of the trunk and I remember the day that he found it there. I had just retired. He was over the moon with joy. It is the only picture of him with his father. Why it didn't show up until much later is a mystery. It could have been stuck to something perhaps but finding it was a great joy to Edward.
On the back it does say 1944 so he is perhaps around one year of age. He was a big child compared to his older brother (and my husband towered over his elder brother when I knew them both). Finding this picture gave him a closeness to his father he had never had in my experience. We have a number of pictures of his father and Ed did look like him although the most striking similarity is with his Grandfather Kipp (father of Lorne his father).
I am still not myself. My life seems to be in a turmoil from which I can not escape. I am not trying very hard to do so either. I am immersed in grief at his loss. Partly it is that he had so much he still wanted to do and I feel sad about that; partly he wanted to live to be 90 and the life he lived was smoke free and mostly alcohol free as long as I knew him. But sarcoidosis crept in and controlled his destiny. Partly I will miss him as long as I live.
I keep thinking of how he escaped so many times in the last ten years. The pacemaker in 2012 restored him to almost the state he was in before he became terribly ill (triple heart block). The sudden ulcer that nearly claimed him in the summer of 2018 but he bounced back again from that and we continued to travel from cousin to cousin. Although in my heart I just wanted to stop and stay home I went with him and met even more cousins; looked at thousands more pictures and listened to more and more conversations about his families. The miles that we traveled to do all of that work; I shudder still at the number of passes through Toronto although eventually I persuaded him to take the 407 which helped me for sure. Ed would drive anywhere and he didn't care the distance. I used to drive to give him a break on the highways as strange cities are difficult for me. Then last May when he was so dreadfully ill although his recovery was not quite as strong not quite as good and gradually as the year passed he weakened, although I kept thinking he just needs rehab and he came back somewhat. Even at death's door I still imagined that I could feed him well and bring him back. That is perhaps why I remain immersed in grief; I never prepared myself for the possibility. But then who does really?
But there is work to do and I am setting about it slowly with my daughters help. The lawyer who wrote our original wills has kindly agreed to assist me although he is now mostly retired. The prodding that I need to move on is in place and I am responding to it slowly. To pay my husband the greatest respect I need to move his research to others and that is my goal ahead of me.
No comments:
Post a Comment