Feb. 1, 1930 – March 8, 2012
Don was a gentle, loving, and practical man. He didn’t reminisce about the past or speak of losses and regrets, and the future didn’t worry him. He hardly ever mentioned either. What had been, what might have been, should have been or could have been simply were not mentioned. Consequently, after 12 years of marriage, I still know little about his past. Yet, there were many ways that he amazed me.
He lived in the present and accepted whatever hand he was dealt for the day. He treated strangers as friends, cared for friends as though they were family, and his patience astounded me. If a doctor’s appointment was for 11 a.m. and the doctor didn’t show until 11:55 a.m., he remained as good-natured and considerate as if the doctor had been on time.
He was careful and deliberate whether repairing a cabinet, hanging a picture or buying a carton of milk. The first week we were married he went out for a loaf of bread and didn’t come back for three hours. I thought he left me. When I asked why it took so long, he said he ran into a couple of old buddies from Chrysler and stopped to chat.
He loved to play cards, watch NCIS (both versions), have a beer with his friends, and eat corn on the cob every day it was in season. He didn’t speak of his feelings or beliefs. His political and spiritual leanings remain unknown to me; yet, he listened to mine attentively and never said, “I agree,” or “I think you’re crazy.” And that was OK; he didn’t need to validate my thinking for me to love and appreciate all of his wonderful attributes. He wasn’t a “sweet-talker,” but I never doubted his love; his every action confirmed it. In short, he was the best decision I ever made and one of the best people I’ve ever known.