October Memories

October, 2025

Dear Mom,

I have so many happy memories of October, with all of its beauty. I know how much you loved it too. I remember, as a child, that we would all get into the car after lunch on Sundays for our family drive. Charlie and I sat in the backseat and looked out the window. Sometimes we played the license plate game, or the red car/blue car game. I always took a book because I loved to read in the car.

Dad was injured in the war, so was never able to drive. That was not a problem for you. You loved to get behind the wheel and drive down country roads. The radio was never on. We just enjoyed the silence and the beauty flying by us. October was always special because the hills south of Cleveland were filled with yellow and red maples. What a glorious treat.

We often drove to Hiram, a small town south of Cleveland. Your grandfather had taught Latin and Greek there. After your dad died when you were just sixteen, your mother moved you all to his home because she had no income. I suspect that was a challenge for you all, because your grandmother was not a compassionate woman, but you made the best of it.

As a child, I remember going to that beautiful Victorian home to visit her. She was very deaf so you had to yell. Children were to be seen, not heard. But then we got to visit your mother’s cousin Helen. She was fun! She let us talk and ask questions. She had a sofa with leopard skin print on the cover and with huge antlers as the back and arms. Charlie and I thought that was very cool.

Then we always walked around the small campus. You and Dad met there in the summer before your senior year. You were ill with Scarlet Fever as a junior and could not take gym, so you had to take a summer course. Dad did not enjoy math, and apparently did not do well, so he needed to take a course. Was it by chance that you two ended up in the same class, about FDR’s New Deal that July? In that short time, you fell in love, although were not married for several years.

We also went to the cemetery where your family was buried. I was fascinated to learn that Hiram students had no where to date except in the darkness of that cemetary, where you could kiss in peace and quiet. How appropriate that you and Dad are now lying there side by side.

The last time I ever saw Dad was Columbus Weekend of 1978. You, Dad and Charlie drove here to visit us. Dad was in his wheelchair, but always maintained his sense of humor. Just before you left, we all went out to lunch in Exeter, at the same restaurant where we lunched before our wedding, just 4 months earlier.

I had no idea that would be my last time with my beloved dad. One month later you called to tell me he had died. I was heartbroken, but will always be grateful that you all came to visit one month earlier.

We never know really, do we, when will be our last visit with someone? Death sneeks in and robs us of those we love. I am grateful that you taught me to love each person in my life. Although I have learned that I also must grieve, I can always be thankful for the memories.

Love,
Helen