Monday, December 4, 2023
One of my fonder memories with Carl, while in our late 'teens', was exploring the smaller shops in Portland, Maine, picking our choice of antiques in some, a favorite painting in another. Our ultimate destination was St. Joseph the Provider, a thrift shop where we were just apt to find an affordable treasure-but then we stumbled upon The Candle Shop, one of the early establishments on Exchange St. We stepped through its door and were both seized, overwhelmed by a gloriously resonate, ethereal music pervading every nook and cranny, all emitting from a large, beautiful, ornately painted German polyphon. We were mesmerized. It filled our hearts and we laughed with absolute joy.
Forty seven years passed before we reconnected. Carl was already five years into his journey with cancer, yet still mustered together his noetic, kind, joyous spirit. He loved his "Rockport castle" filled with books, inherited family furniture, mementos (feathers, rocks, driftwood), plants, paintings--everything organized and readily available; the niche where his chair was positioned so he could sit for hours observing the wide variety of birds fluttering and feasting in their established order the numerous and consistently filled feeders, his beloved Story by his side.
Carl's voice and face glowed as he narrated his life stories and family adventures recorded in pictures throughout the years, all set to music, retaining memories. We reminisced, laughed about our frugalness, gathered seaweed for our gardens, savored a salmon supper, proclaimed our absolute love for naps--humor his exclamation point. Spirit soulmates.
A man, a veteran who loved life, dinner with friends, who wrestled with the important life
questions and was determined to make the most of every day, even when "rough sledding". Let the wild crows and Willy Nelson hair fly. Love you always, Carl. Jen
