Tanner reunion time

Last year I just wasn't up to attending the Tanner family reunion - that's Ora Lee's family - but this year I look forward to it.

The old historic Indiantown School, the place it had been held for some years, has been severely vandalized recently. Thieves had already stolen the air conditioners, and now they've also stolen the wiring! Whoever owns the building probably won't ever repair those things, so the place for the reunion has to be different. The American Legion hall close to Hemingway has been selected, and it's convenient (on the same highway) and new, with all the modern conveniences you need for a lunch-time reunion. I sent out the notices last week, and I sure hope people will come.

Tim loved the Tanner reunion. He called everybody he could each year, caught up on all the news and encouraged folks to come. He enjoyed the hugs, the laughter, and of course the food. But mostly it was the people, his mom, his brothers, niece and nephews, daughter, grand-kids, cousins and aunts and uncles, in-laws and all. Tim was the linchpin, really, the hub of the wheel for the family. People came because Tim asked them to. They came to see him in person, to joke with him, gossip with him, love and be loved by him. Will they come now that he's gone? I don't know.

The picture above is from the 2006 reunion, and I have a framed copy of it on the wall in front of my desk. He's talking and laughing with his cousin Frances Tisdale, and it's one of my very favorite photographs of him. Frances would come only to see and talk to Tim, not to eat lunch or really visit with many other people, and then she would leave. I hope she'll come this year so I can tell her again how much he enjoyed those meetings, those hugs and that laughter.

As I think about all the Tanner family members who have died the last few years, I realize that the reunion they can have in heaven will soon be as large as the one we'll have here on earth! And I bet they have more fun at theirs. But we need to connect with family. We really NEED to connect with family, and I sure hope many will make the effort and come this year.

Grief creeps up

Once in a while I will be doing something ordinary, not new or unusual, and grief creeps up on me. Painful - though not debilitating like it used to be.

I may be walking around in the grocery store, like last week when I passed a shelf of bagels and realized that I never buy those any more. Tim and I ate bagels with cream cheese for breakfast many mornings, but I don't do that now. I stick to cereal or waffles. Why did it hurt? We also ate cereals and waffles for breakfast quite often, but they don't bother me to buy, like bagels do. That's just another one of those odd things that affect me sometimes.

Driving down the street, any street, where Tim and I used to drive together, can trigger a spasm of grief. I want him in the car with me again, talking about anything, just the two of us again.

I pass Bicycle World and remember Tim and me stopping there to get a new inner tube for a wheelchair tire. He would usually wait for me in the car, although once in a long while he might want to go inside and speak to Phil, catch up on news and make small talk.

Now that I have given away Tim's desk and desk chair, I have a little more floor space in the sun room that used to be his office. I can sit in the living room, in my arm chair with my feet up, and look into that room, and it doesn't always cause a twinge of sadness nowadays. Sometimes, but not always.

I still have Tim's file cabinet in there topped with photos of Angie and the kids, plus his large custom-made sound system cabinet full of tapes, tape player, reel-to-reel, drawers full of wires and cords in that room, and it's topped with elephants and assorted other stuff. There's even an 8-track player and a case full of Elvis 8-tracks up there with the elephants.

On the wall there's still Tim's framed poster that says "Don't pray for an easy life, pray to be a strong person." Someone gave the poster to me long before Tim and I met, but it was so appropriate for him that I hung it over his desk, no matter whether we were in the office building downtown or here at the condo. It's still right where it was, there on the wall. No, he didn't have an easy life. Yes, he was a strong person!

The little oak desk that had belonged to my mother, the antique secretary with the pull-out leaf and drawer, that's what I put in the spot where Tim's big oak desk used to be. One of the dining room chairs is pulled up to that little desk, in case I ever want to sit there. I probably won't, but it makes it possible, anyway. More Angie, Bella and Liam pictures top the little desk, just like they did on Tim's big desk. Every time I see one of those photos I say a prayer for them and wish I could see them more often.

So that room still looks okay, still like an office, and that's where I put several pot plants. They seem to thrive with all the sunlight, as long as I remember to water them. But even watering those plants can bring on a momentary sadness, missing Tim so very much, wishing his desk was back in its place and he was back in his chair, talking on the phone or listening to one of his books on tape.

The feeling goes away as I hear those inner reminders of how wonderful a life Tim has now, how beautiful, busy and fulfilling. I visualize him with his mom and dad, T.C., Ninie, Mike and Allyn, and so many others, and I mentally shake myself off. Until next time.

And while the memories come often, and I'm really grateful for them, the grief and pain and sadness don't accompany them nearly as much these days. I'm grateful for that too.