58TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY

Day before yesterday was the 58th anniversary of my marriage to Tom. Yes, Friday the 13th! How fitting. We were not married on a Friday, but every so often the anniversary lands on the Friday the 13th.

The wedding anniversary was one of the firsts since Tom died with more firsts to come. Though I tried to act as if it was just another day, I did not succeed, for the occasion was much on my mind. It goes without saying that it was a sad and not a happy anniversary.

When I wrote Tom's obituary, I did the math, subtracting 1961 from 2019, and said, "Tom is survived by his wife of 58 years...", when the truth was that I was Tom's wife while he was living for only 57½ years. When I realized my mistake, I was amused for a bit and grateful for the lighter moment. There's no correcting the mistake; it's all over the internet in perpetuity. Whatever. A half-year mistake doesn't matter, because we were together for a long, long time.

My brother-in-law Frank and my sister Gayle are on either side of Tom and me.

REST IN PEACE, JOSEPH THOMAS (TOM) BUTLER, JR (1938 - 2019)

St John's Episcopal Church in Thibodaux, Louisiana, knows how to do a wonderful funeral. The service and music on April 6, 2019, were lovely. The organist, LaDonna, played both organ and piano beautifully. Fr Stephen's sermon was perfectly suited to the occasion, especially so, since the first time he met Tom was when he was in the hospital and most certainly not at his (Tom's) best. Nevertheless, Stephen captured the essence of Tom's humanity in the reflections on the meaning of his life and death for all of us who knew him.

Thanks to all the people at St John who contributed to make the service and reception following a comfort to me and my family and all who attended. The flowers were gorgeous. The two large arrangements of white roses, baby's breath, and greenery on the altar were moved to the scatter garden after the service. In the Episcopal church, with exceptions for funerals, only greenery is used on the altar during Lent. Along with Tom's picture and the urn holding his ashes, I took the small vase of flowers home with me. The scent of the white roses and another smaller vase with red roses filled the family room when I took them home.

Many thanks to all who were present at the visitation and funeral. While Tom was alive, I did not fully realize he touched and inspired so many throughout his life. It's bittersweet for me that only after Tom's gone do I understand the breath and strength of his friendships with people of different ages and how he will be missed.

Though I'd rather not end my post on Tom's funeral with regret, I'm at the end, and it is with a touch of regret.

A ROUGH RIDE TO A HAPPY ENDING

O Lord, your compassion is great and your mercies are new every morning: We give you thanks for giving Tom both relief from pain and hope of health renewed. Continue in him, we pray, the good work you have begun; that he, daily increasing in bodily strength, and rejoicing in your goodness, may so order his life and conduct that he may always think and do those things that please you; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

(Book of Common Prayer)

Tom had surgery this past Wednesday to remove a small malignant tumor from his colon. The section of the colon where the tumor was located was removed and the ends stitched together. All went well with the surgery, and he is making an amazing recovery. Thursday evening, I rejoiced at the good news that the pathology report showed that the lymph nodes removed during surgery are all free of cancer, and he will need no further treatment. He came home Friday morning.  We've had a rough ride to a happy ending.

Thanks be to God, the doctors, the hospital staff, and the wonders of technology of surgery by robot...with a doctor standing by, of course.

Tom's recovery continues apace. Scarlett, the Cat, is a wonderful nurse and sleeps by his side every night. She's glad to have him home. I am, too.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GRANDPÈRE!

May you have a great day, Tom!

My gift to Tom will be a nice pair of jeans.  When we go out to eat or to a movie, Tom will often ask if he can wear his jeans, and I have to say, "No, not with me."  People wear jeans nearly everywhere, but Tom's jeans are another matter.  They're from Walmart, which would not be so bad, but they usually have holes in them or are stained with black grease or blood from the many small and not-so-small wounds he accumulates from his yard work.  The other day, I persuaded him to go to a store other than Walmart to try on nicer jeans.  It took us a while and many tries before he found a pair that suited him, so now he has one pair that he can wear to a restaurant or a movie and look decent.  Now that I know the style and size, I will buy him another pair for his birthday, and he will have two, which should do nicely for now.

Tom doesn't like to have too much made of his birthday, because it's sort of a sad day for him, since he's one year older, but I see birthdays as a reason for celebrating having made it through another year more or less intact.  Glass half-full or half-empty?   

He's off working at the boat center today.  He was on TV a few nights ago on Channel 8 in New Orleans.  The reporters visited the center and did a fine job with a lovely news piece on the museum during the nightly news.    

FOX 8 WVUE New Orleans News, Weather, Sports New Orleans News, Weather, Sports

OUR WEDDING ALBUM - SEPTEMBER 13, 1961

 

My brother-in-law, Frank, Tom, me, my sister Gayle

For years, I had no idea in which of our many photo albums to look for the snapshots of our wedding, but after a persistent search through a good many albums, I found them a few months ago. Tom and I married in Charleston, South Carolina, at the Roman Catholic Cathedral of St. John in the bishop's private chapel. The small chapel was the perfect setting for our wedding, because only a very few were in attendance. Fr. Francis Friend presided over the ceremony, and he was a true friend. Because we were not members of their parishes, the other Roman Catholic priests whom I approached to do the honors, refused. We wanted to do the right thing, but we could not find a priest to make an honest woman out of me until I discovered Fr. Friend.

 

The bride and groom

Fr. Friend worked at the Cathedral office of the Marriage Tribunal, which generally handled annulment cases, but, in our case, he agreed to preside over our wedding ceremony. Present were my sister, Gayle, my brother-in-law, Frank, my niece Donna, Frank's sister, Chally and her two children, Cindy and Don. After the ceremony, my sister had a surprise wine and cake party for our small group. It was lovely, and I would not change a thing.


The happy couple once again...

After I finished graduate school at Louisiana State University in early August 1961, I went to stay with my sister in Charleston, South Carolina, because Tom was on active duty in the US Army at Fort Jackson in Columbia, South Carolina. He came to visit in Charleston on weekends until he was released from active duty to the US Army Reserve at the end of August or early in September. Since we wanted a small wedding, we decided to get married in Charleston. My family was large, and there was no way to have a small wedding in New Orleans without hurting the feelings of a good many people.

 

...and again - sipping champagne

Tom and I both had jobs waiting in Mobile, Alabama, and after a honeymoon that lasted a night and a day in St. Augustine, Florida, we headed to New Orleans and New Roads, Louisiana, to pick up our few possessions before we went to Mobile to our jobs. We had very little money and none for a longer honeymoon.

 

Me, my niece, Donna, and Tom

On the way to New Orleans, my car the, 1953 Chevrolet hard-top convertible pictured behind us, began to make a terrible noise when we turned curves. We were able to complete the trip to New Orleans, with the grinding sound on every curve, and we knew that we likely had expensive repairs facing us. I'd purchased the car used several years before, and, in those days, car dealers routinely turned back the mileage on used cars, so no telling how many miles the car had run. Instead of paying for the repairs, we decided to buy a new car.

We purchased a 1961 Ford Falcon, with no money down, only my old car as a trade-in and proof that we both had jobs. We loaded all our possessions into the Falcon (Those were the days of the simple life!) and started out on our new life together in Mobile.

And here we are, 49 years later, hardly changed at all.