You may remember last year's letter as being virtually non-existent. That was because my parents were in the midst of moving into The Rennaissance, an assisted-living apartment in De Pere. They should have moved the year before, or maybe six months before, but I find that we tend only to avoid the mistakes our parents actually make and not the new ones that they didn't have a chance to flub.
So I've been wondering what silly decisions I'll be making when I get old.
Anyway, they are settled and comfortable and well taken care of. Not that I don't have my own tasks to do in terms of caring for them. Just today I had to figure out the TV remote. (It was set to be some other kind of remote – a VCR remote control perhaps.) The difference from last year is that whenever a critical issue comes up in their lives I hear about it … later.
As some of you already know, I've added
to the sum of knowledge available on the internet.
When cleaning out my parents' house,
I rediscovered my father's history
of the Cardinal family.
When he reread some of this story as I published it,
my father told me that I already knew more about the family
than he did.
That may be true, but I only know what he told me.
After posting that on the web, and adding a few pictures, I told him that we should continue the story with his life. And so we did. Although I'm the author, the page reflects his story the way he told it to me.
After that, it was only natural that I would put my mother's life on the web, too. There are pictures she has at the apartment which may belong on this site, but overall I think this page is complete. The story of her side of the family is coming; my cousin will be putting that together based on the story written by her mother (my mother's sister) and other recollections from the family.
Sharing these links with all of you seems appropriate, but I keep in mind my father's comment as published on his page: Some of these things are very important, but only to the people involved.
Long bicycle trips were lost to the events. I mean that I rode lots of miles, but many of them were just between Green Bay and De Pere. Fortunately, there are several good routes to my parents' place so there is at least some variety in the scenery.
I did bike to Suamico and visit the church there, as mentioned in the family history. (Yes, the plaque is still present.) I also rode out to the woods – I'm getting better at avoiding dehydration on this 50 mile jaunt – but I only made that trip once all year. One other time I got up The Ledge (that's the Niagra Escarpment); that was to join the Baptist youth for a regular Wednesday evening at the Andersons.
Despite the limitations of last year's review, you may have heard some of this story, too. But let's cover it all anyway.
In the summer of last year, my dog Pepper died and was buried, on the hottest and most humid day of the entire summer, in a pleasant spot in the woods (in Manitowoc County). After a while, I went to the Manitowoc animal shelter with my nearest first cousins twice removed and picked out a new dog.
No, it was a wonderful old dog.
Ruby was ten years old when I got her, arthritic,
and suffering from a difficult infection.
With treatment, exercise, and feline companionship
Ruby was able to enjoy many days walking around Green Bay
and especially the days at the woods.
But this spring, after insisting on a last walk
around the block, Ruby died quietly in my driveway
and was buried at a pleasant spot in the woods.
In the meantime, my seventeen year old cat
Smokey also died.
He was originally the pet of my pet dog Joshua,
but I inherited the cat when the dog died.
He was buried on the top of the hill at the woods,
in a place saved for a decade next to his beloved dog.
After these sad events, I received a telephone call from my veterinarian's office. (What could they want, I wondered; I only have one cat left.) "We know it's only been a few days," they said, "but we have this dog who needs a home."
And so my new dog Buddy arrived, made friends
with Wheatley the cat (for the most part)
and began tearing up everything within sight.
One expects this, of course, since he was only
ten months when he arrived last summer.
He's smart, affectionate, active, cute,
and young enough to stick around for a while.
And he loves going out to the woods
to run and run and run and run and run.
In fact, that's how we celebrated Thomas Day.
Wheatley the cat blossomed a bit in the face of all these changes. He was always the "other" cat while Smokey was alive. Now he's alpha cat and sometimes even leads the gullible puppy into trouble. I think. Wheatley is experienced enough to hide his tracks pretty well. Wheatley likes to go outside and lie under the bushes or catch a mouse when he can find one. I think he eats them, but I try not to know.
I had a Moravian sermon for October 23, but it turned out that the sermon was not intended for the congregation. Just for me. For the congregation, those which were not attending the congregational retreat, there was a review of the life of Moses in the Moravian tradition of a Singstunde.
The local Moravian congregation is studying their Moravian roots back to the 1490s or so. The class has only been meeting since September and we are already up to about 1530. It is especially fun being a Methodist discussing historical theology with Moravians. Methodists have a deep debt to the Moravians who, in effect, converted the Wesley boys from academic Anglicans to burning Christians. But for another 200 years of our discussion, there were no Methodists to compare and contrast. So I feel free to bring in ideas from almost any time and place.
Perhaps the people perusing this publication are pleased by Peter's paragraphs. If you are not too put off, you can perceive that personal progress pervades the puckish prolixity.
It is now the night after Thomas Day, the longest night of the year, and the beginning of the return of the Sun. Enjoy the anticipation. And Merry Christmas.
May peace be with all of you who belong to Christ.
Peter
