Today would have been Jim’s 72nd
birthday. In honor of his birthday, I wanted to share some of my memories of
Jim before dementia.
Jim’s uncle introduced me to Jim on
a hot summer day in 1968. I don’t know if it would qualify as love at first
sight, but it was darned close to it. He was drafted in September and after
training, he left for Vietnam in May of 1969.
Jim liked to say he won me in a
craps game. He came up with the idea that he could take R&R in Hawaii, and
I could fly there and we could get married. The only problem was, neither of us
had any money. Jim decided to take what money he had and shoot craps to finance
a honeymoon. Sure enough, based on the roll of the dice, he had enough money to
fund the trip.
We were married at Fort DeRussy on
December 20, 1969. It was a small wedding with the chaplain, Jim, and me. The
witnesses signed our marriage certificate before the nuptials so they could go
home. Jim, being Jim, refused to wear his uniform for the wedding. He bought
some “civvies” for the ceremony.
During the early morning hours of Christmas
Day, Jim went back to Vietnam and I flew back to the states. We began our lives
together when he returned home April 5, 1970. He still had a year’s obligation
to Uncle Sam so we moved to Manhattan, Kansas.
The couple who had the smallest
wedding also had the smallest apartment: one small room with a bathroom. We had
no air conditioning, and I mostly remember the sweltering heat and the two of
us sleeping on a twin bed. In early fall, we moved to a bigger apartment in the
same house.
Jim was a family man. He loved
spending time with his family and my family. We traveled home about every other
weekend. We always drove an old clunker because Jim was a genuine shade-tree
mechanic and could keep any vehicle on four wheels running well past its prime.
The army didn’t pay much so we
learned early on to budget our money. We always had a savings account for
emergencies. Our entertainment was inexpensive. Jim would play his guitar and
sing, we went for long drives, and we spent a lot of time at Tuttle Creek
because Jim loved to fish. If we really wanted to splurge, we went to the
movies or ate at Dog and Suds.
Glen Campbell’s song said “Manhattan,
Kansas, Ain’t No Place to Have a Baby,” but we were excited to become parents.
Eric was born at Fort Riley Hospital and cost us a whopping $7. When Rob was
born two years later at Bothwell, we sold my car to pay the $700 bill.
Jim loved to travel, and we often
made trips to Oregon to visit relatives and his childhood places. Later, we
went to Colorado every summer to camp in the Rocky Mountain National Park.
Jim was happiest when he “had something to look forward to” code for a road
trip. He would pack the van for days in anticipation of our annual vacations.
Jim was generous to a fault. He
would literally give someone the shirt off his back. He gave away valuable
musical instruments to other family members. He was stubborn and wouldn’t do
anything that was against his principals. He could be exasperating at times.
Vietnam haunted him. He was
mentally and physically broken by his time in the jungle. He had a fractured
neck that wasn’t treated until years later. He had PTSD before anyone knew what
it was. He suffered deep depression and had to be hospitalized twice.
Jim was intelligent, loved to read,
play video games, had a wacky sense of humor, was musically talented, and a
deep thinker. He believed in ghosts, the unexplainable, angels, God, and that
death was simply closing one door and opening another.
He loved with all his being and was
fiercely loyal to those he loved. He loved his boys, his grandchildren, his
parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins, friends, and I
never, ever, doubted his love for me. He called me his bride, princess, honey,
sweetheart, but never called me Linda.
Of all the things I miss about Jim,
I think I miss our quiet times the most: drinking a cup of coffee and talking
about the mysteries of life. I miss the adventures, the comfort, and all the
things that made Jim the unique man who stole my heart and held it gently.
Copyright © August 2017 by L.S.
Fisher
#ENDALZ #GoJimsTeam
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