DEBORAHPOLITAN MUSEUM OF MODERN ART BICENTENNIAL EXHIBITION

DEBORAHPOLITAN MUSEUM OF MODERN ART BICENTENNIAL EXHIBITION

by

Deborah Mortensen

Museum Apprenticeship
Mrs. Weber
November 19, 1974

BICENTENNIAL EXHIBITION TITLE “AMERICA’S  GREAT STONE FACES.”

    Our museum is a large contemporary museum with a very high budget. It’s located in the heart of a large city. It’s the only art museum in that city. We have lots of community support from the rich people living in apartments all around us. There are three main galleries in our museum. One houses the permanent collection, another, the costume and textile collection, and biggest gallery is for temporary exhibitions. The temporary exhibition gallery will be used for the Bicentennial exhibit because it has plenty of floor space and a nice high ceiling.

    The museum has fifty trustees, all of whom vote on almost everything (even changing light bulbs). Luckily the vote is usually tied, and I'm called in to break the tie. This bicentennial exhibition on American stone sculpture was voted in after 2 months of debate. One of the men who pushed hardest for the exhibit had a great grandfather who was a stone cutter. The man still has his great grandfather's tools and wants to donate them to the museum. I told him to wait and just loan them for the exhibit. I’m waiting until after the show to tell him the tools really don’t belong in an art museum. Another one of our trustees is chairman of the board at Forest Lawn cemetery, which has lots of very old and interesting gravestones. Anyway, this man has a hobby of making gravestone rubbings. He’s agreed to loan us his 150 gravestone rubbings. He is also photographing all the stones in his cemetery that date before 1776.

    Our receptionist knows a good friend of Henry Moore and has heard rumors that Moore has a new series of sculptures he wants to exhibit. I told her I’d have to see them first before accepting them.

    I got in touch with a local historical society which is trying to preserve old New England stone sculpture. They gave me pamphlets and loaned me a speaker to give a lecture every week for the next 6 months.

    We have many small stone sculptures done by local artists in our permanent collection. We also have rare photos of the carving of Mount Rushmore. We also have an old Calder mobile made of drift wood and beach stones. I thought it would look nice over the low lying Moores. But the insurance company was afraid it might fall apart and damage one of the Moores insured for 100,000 dollars. So I hung it over the receptionist’s desk; the insurance company said it was the only place they’d allow us to hang it. (It appears damaging a receptionist cost less.)

    The catalog for the show is now being printed. On its cover we put a photo of the most impressive piece in the show, a 25-foot Moore loaned to us by a private donor. The private donor doesn’t want his name to be given in connection with the piece. I asked why; he said “It would be embarrassing to him if people heard that he bought a 25-foot sculpture for his apartment on the 8th floor that only has a ten-foot high ceiling.” Our high budget allowed us to put photos of every piece in the show in the catalog and twenty color plates.

    The museum’s education department has planned two courses on stone rubbing. One for children and the other for adults. The courses are free to senior citizens. They’ve also planned to have a local sculptor to come in every Sunday to give demonstrations. They are also going to show a series of films made of interviews with American stone sculptors.

    The museum’s travel department has planned of American stone sculpture. They also plan to have tours of artists studios.

    We’ve planned the opening for July 4th, 1976, but if we receive too many negative R.S.V.P.’s, we will have to change it. The exhibit will last 6 months. In total there are 1,700 pieces. Good thing the gallery is on the first floor.

Copyright © 1974 by Deborah Mortensen and 2011 by Thomas Coley Allen.

More articles on Deb.

Some Stories About Deb

Some Stories About Deb

Thomas Allen

    In 1981 Deb came to visit me the day after Christmas. Fortunately, for me once she got here, she never left. Her flight was due around 2:00 p.m. I got to the airport around 1:00. Was I excited to see her! As 2:00 approached, her flight was moved down the list to around 3:00. Each time her flight approached the top of the arrival list, it was moved down to near the bottom. About 10:00 that night, she finally arrived. She had flown from Connecticut to Pittsburgh where she was to connect with a flight from Detroit to Raleigh-Durham. Because of snow, the Detroit flight was delayed.

    After I met Deb, we went to get her luggage. We could not find it. Then we learned that her luggage had gone to St. Louis. So, I took her to my parent’s house where she stayed until we married. Around midnight, her luggage arrived at the house.

*******
    The first week that Deb was in Raleigh, I took her to see the place where she would spend the next 29 years of our lives. (Later we named this place “Marigold Plantation” after the pseudonym that she used for her advertisement.) Also, I took her to the office where I worked and introduced her to the people who were there. At that time, I worked in the Archdale Building. We went up to the heliport. One can get a good view of Raleigh from there. Years later I learned that she was terrified of being up there. As it was a clam day, there was no danger.

    On Thursday, the 31st, we drove to Dillion, South Carolina to marry. When we applied for our license, we learned that South Carolina had a 24-hour waiting period. Back to Raleigh we drove. We returned on the 1st and married. After the wedding, they took a couple of pictures of us. In the first one, we had a “what have we done” look. In the second on, we had a happy look.

    That night, Deb stayed with me instead of going to my parent’s house. I do not know if they ever missed her. They never said anything about her absence. The next day my parents had a dinner to which they had invited a few relatives. We did not tell anyone that we were married. While we were eating, my aunt Isabel kept looking at us. Finally, she asked if we were married. She had noticed our wedding rings. We admitted that we were. (I think that my aunt was proud of herself for being the first to notice.)

    Materially, Deb did not bring much into the marriage. Along with her clothes and some artwork and supplies, she had a rocking chair, a camera, a stereo, and a typewriter, but not much more. If I recall correctly, she had less than $100 in the bank. However, she brought a great deal into the marriage. What she brought into our marriage cannot be measured and is beyond measure.

*******
    When Deb became pregnant with our first child, we were living in my apartment. We had a gas stove. Deb’s pregnancy heightened her sense of smell. She started smelling gas and complaining to me about it. She was convinced that the gas stove was leaking. So, I had to take it apart to see if it were leaking. Although it occurred to me, I doubt that it did to her, if the stove were leaking gas, there was a good chance of a fire and perhaps an explosion. My disassembling the stove (actually, I only removed the top cover) seemed to satisfy her. However, she did continue to complain about smelling gas.

*******
    The fall before we moved to Marigold Plantation, I had a new lawn sowed. We bought the trailer and moved to Marigold Plantation in April 1982. Somehow I managed to get the plumber, electrician, and power company to arrive the same day as the trailer. Thus, we got the trailer set up, the pump in the well and connected to the trailer, the trailer connected to the power line, and electricity turned on in one day. Before the sunset, the trailer was ready for us to move in. However, the sewer line to the septic tank was not completed until the next day because another section of pipe was needed.

    We did not buy a lawnmower before the end of May. By then, we had a good stand of grass when I got around to mowing it. Around the first of June, I started mowing. As I was mowing, I notice that I was stirring up field rats and mice. I went into the trailer and got Deb and my shotgun. Deb drove the mower while I walked behind her with the shotgun to shot the rats and mice. Later, I wondered what the neighbors must have thought when they drove down the road and saw me walking behind Deb with a shotgun. I wondered if they thought I was one heartless man who had to use a shotgun to force his wife to mow the grass.

*******
    When our first son was born, Deb’s water broke about 9:00 Saturday night. I carried her to the hospital that night. We spent the night in the labor ward since the doctor did not want to send her home because we lived so far from the hospital. Our first son was born about 2:00 Sunday afternoon.

    Just before our daughter was born, we went to the beach during the last week in June. Deb’s mother and youngest brother went with us. The doctor told Deb that it was all right for her to go since she was not due until the first week in August. On July 6 our daughter was born. The nurses had fun kidding the doctor about our daughter being the largest 32-week baby that they had ever seen. Obviously, the doctor had calculated incorrectly.

    When our third child was born, the State was experimenting with a new style of health plan. We could not go directly to a specialist. We had to go to our primary physician, and he would refer us to a specialist. During Deb’s pregnancy with our third child, she developed diabetes. The obstetrician gave her a blood test for diabetes. When she reported to her primary physician, he said that he was supposed to give her that test, not the obstetrician. So, he gave her the same test that she had a few days earlier. He was not going to lose the fee for that test.

    Fortunately, Deb went into labor with our youngest son just before I left for work, so I could quickly take her to the hospital. He was born a few hours after we arrived. While in the labor room, Deb kept calling the nurse and telling her that the baby was coming. The nurse looked at her and told her that she had not dilated enough. Around the fifth time that Deb called the nurse, the nurse looked at her and told that she was right. The baby’s head was showing. The nurse asked the doctor if he wanted to deliver in the labor room. After answering no, the doctor said that Deb could make it to the delivery room. Deb was in the delivery room for only a few minutes before our second son was born.

    For all three of our children, I was in the labor and delivery rooms with Deb. I think my presents comforted her. I got to hold our children before she did.

*******
    After we married, we never bought a Christmas tree. We always cut one on our land. Until our white pine trees got big enough to harvest, we used a cedar. Usually, I found the cedar. A few times Deb found one. I always cut the tree and drug it to the house. After I got it to the house, most of the time we had to cut some off because the tree grew from the time that I cut it to the time that I got it to the house. We put the tree up, and then Deb decorated it. Later, the children helped decorate it. Usually, I put the angel or star on top as I was the tallest. Over the years, we had accumulated ornaments for a big tree. So the tree was loaded with ornaments.

    When we started using white pines, Deb helped me saw it. She pulled the tree away from the saw to keep it from binding the saw. Later, the children took over that job. They liked having the tree fall on them. After the children left home, Deb returned to her job of pulling the tree.

    The trees that I grew were much rounder than most sold on lots. Deb said that I used her as my model for pruning the trees. Perhaps I did. Moreover, they did not look nearly as large standing in the field as they did in a small room.

    One year after cutting down a tree and decorating it, I came home and found a new tree up. After the first tree had been in the house for a few days, the hibernating aphids came out. Aphids were everywhere, or so it seemed. Deb had thrown that tree into the yard and fetched another one.

    When we had goats, we usually fed the tree to them after Christmas. (Deb liked taking the tree down within two or three days after Christmas.) For that reason, we never sprayed anything on the tree.

*******
    When Deb was pregnant with our first child, I often left her with my parents. My stepmother took Deb to her doctor’s appointment. Once when I left Deb with my stepmother, my stepmother’s friend was visiting her. My stepmother must have convinced her friend that we lived in the wilderness miles away from civilization. Her friend asked Deb what she did if she were cooking and needed an ingredient. Deb told her that she went to the Piggy Wiggly, which was a mile from the house. The friend seemed surprised that she did not have to drive 20 some miles to Raleigh.

    My stepmother also told Deb that I knew nothing and not to pay any attention to me. I was especially ignorant when investing. I admit that as far as investing is concern, I am a novice who flies by the seat of his pants. However, I did manage to get enough return to pay the loan on our mobile home and land so that we could use our land as the down payment for our house. Fortunately, Deb was intelligent and wise enough to ignore my stepmother.

******
    We bought a Johnny Walker house. The company built 90 percent of the house, and we did the rest. We were responsible for the heating system. We contracted putting in the heat pumps, which freed up the closet where the heating system was to go. That closet became our second pantry. I wired the telephone. Deb put fiberglass installation under the house. Except our bedroom, which we had carpeted, we laid tile on all the floors. When we laid the tile, we discovered how out of square the house really was. Also, we painted the interior walls. The carpenters left enough lumber behind to provide shelves for the closets, the second pantry, and the utility room.

    Deb got to see the house go up as our mobile home was about 120 feet away. One of her favorite stories was hearing the “oops” and “don’t worry about that, the Sheetrock man can cover it up.” She told that to the Sheetrock man. He said that carpenters thought that Sheetrock men could work miracles.

    In March 1989, we moved into the house. We had not quite finished all the work. However, I figured if we waited until we were through, we would never move.

    Deb wanted a house, and I think that she was pleased with it although she would like to have had a bigger front porch and a bigger and better kitchen. It was her nest. If it were not for her, it would never have been built. Unfortunately, she could not live her last days here.

*******
    Except for me, everyone in the family ate cheese and drink milk. When the kids were growing up, they consumed about two gallons of milk each week. Before I retired, we usually had one major grocery shopping each month. Most of the time that was a family affair. Then each week we went to pick up items that we ran out of, such as milk and eggs, and to get some meat that was on sale. For the first several years of marriage, I often stopped by the grocery store on the way home and bought those weekly items. Occasionally, I bought cheese for the Deb and kids. To me cheese is cheese, so for awhile I bought  cheddar cheese. The cheese kept disappearing, so I assumed that they were eating. Therefore, I kept buying it. After a few months, Deb told me to stop buying it. They did not like it and were not eating it. They were feeding it to the cat.

*******
    In the mid 1980s, I read an article that said that a husband should surprise his wife occasionally with an unexpected gift. Thus, I gave Deb a gift unexpectedly. Big mistake! She became highly suspicious. What terrible thing had I done causing me to give her a gift? Had I had an affair and was my conscience bothering me? Weeks were required to ease her fears and assure her that I had done nothing wrong.

    I forget what the gift was, but it was not expensive. Naturally, never again did I give her an unexpected gift. I waited for our anniversary, Valentine’s Day, her birthday, or Christmas. If I want to give her something at other times, either I told her before the purchase or we went to the store together to get it.
   
*******
    One of the few places of friction between me and Deb was disciplining the children. We were both mostly laissez faire type parents — Deb more so than I. Usually, she waited until the kids pushed her to the breaking point before she reacted. I tried to keep things from getting to that point.

    Occasionally, Deb got on me about yelling at the kids; they complained about me yelling at them. I told Deb that if the children did what I told them to do when I told them to do it, I would not yell. I had to yell to get their attention. Then I heard them say, “Dad’s not serious yet. He’s not yelling.” We were fortunate that for the most part our children were fairly well behaved and did not get into too much trouble.

    One thing that I tried to impress on Deb was that when one of us disciplined a child, the other should not object — at least not in front of the children. Any disagreement should be done in private. We needed to support each other and stand united. Over time she came around to that view. Most of the time we supported each other, or at least did not oppose each other when disciplining the children.

    My oldest son got into trouble at school for throwing a rock and hitting a car. The principal paddled him. When he got home, Deb gave him such a tongue lashing that I felt sorry for the boy.

*******                                                       
    On Christmas morning, the children never went downstairs to play with their gifts until we got up and went with them. I do not know what Deb did to keep the  children from going downstairs and start playing with their toys before we got up. Around five or six in the morning, we started hearing subtle, and at times not so subtle, bumps against our door and little voices. We heard things like “Are they up yet,” “Wake them up,” etc. We heard reports from the one that the other two sent to peek around the steps, such as, “Did you see anything?”, “What did you see?”, etc. Usually, the report was that nothing was seen. Whatever she told them to keep them under control and not to go downstairs without us worked because they never went downstairs on Christmas morning without us.

*******
    One winter we had a snow that stayed around for about a week. After a few days, Deb and the kids came down with a severe case of cabin fever. They just had to get out. So, they got into my car (I was using the four-wheel-drive Blazer to commute to work) and tried to drive it out. The driveway was clean. However, the car slipped off to the side when she drove it from its parking space. She managed to get it stuck up to the axle of the wheel that was turning. I had to wait about a week for the ground to dry enough for me to jack up the car and file the hole with bricks and rocks. Then I drove the car out.

*******
    Once Deb came close to getting sued for libel. Deb thought that the art council should support and promote all forms of art in the county. She did not like the way that the man who ran the art council ran it. Even when he was not the formal head of the council, he continued to control it from behind the scene. He was using the council to promote and support the whistler’s convention, which was his baby and real joy. Deb was not happy about that. So, she wrote a letter-to-the-editor expressing her dissatisfaction with him and his management, or mismanagement from her perspective, of the art council. She was not shy about stating her opinion of him and how he ran the council. She saw him as egotistical, opinionated and autocratic.

    He had his lawyer write her a letter threatening to sue her unless she apologized. As I knew that she was not up to writing such a letter, I wrote one for her to send to the newspaper apologizing. I ended the letter with a sentence thanking him for proving her point.

    About a year before she became ill, the whistler’s convention was divorced from the art council. The art council was reorganized under new management. It was set up the way that Deb would have approved.

*******
    We used to have chickens. However, the dogs and racoons finished off what we had. We got started with chickens in the early 1990s when my oldest son brought some home from school. His teacher had a class project using chickens. As we lived in the country, he got about half the chickens. Deb with a little help from the kids built a chicken tractor. I did not help much on this project as most of it was done while I was at work. She used scrap lumber left over from building the house. That was one heavy chicken tractor. We learned about chickens with them. One important lesson was always to make sure that they had plenty of water especially during the summertime. Dogs finally killed the last of those chickens. How that last chicken survived that attack, I do not know. The dog had pealed the skin off its back; I had to kill that chicken to put it out of its suffering.

    From these chickens we moved onto others. I ordered some chickens and built a chicken coop in the woods behind the house so the chickens would be shaded during the summer. Later I built a second coop near that one and made some changes based on what I learned from the first one. At our peak, we had about 30 chickens. Later I built a new chicken tractor. Deb really helped me with that one. I messed up on the door, which really frustrated me. Deb stepped in and built the door. At our peak, we had a refrigerator full of chicken and duck eggs. When we had an over abundance of eggs, Deb boiled one or two dozen every week for me to take to work.

     In the mid 1990s, we got our first ducks. I order one of those assortments of ducks and geese. We finally gave the geese to my uncle as they were eating up my greens. We got a few eggs from these ducks. Later I order some more ducks of different breeds. These were more productive egg layers. Deb preferred duck eggs to chicken eggs for  baking.The ducks did rid the yard of Japanese beetles. I seldom see any now.

*******
    When Deb and I were away from the house for much of the day, we left the ducks shut in their pen. When we returned home, we frequently checked for eggs. I lifted up a corner of the pen, and Deb gathered the eggs.

    Once when we came home, we decided to get the eggs before we went into the house. As we approached the pen, I noticed that the ducks were huddled in a corner in the front of the pen. This was peculiar I thought. After I lifted up a corner, Deb reached in to fetch the eggs. Instead of grasping an egg, she felt something strange. She withdrew her hand. When she withdrew her hand, a snake slithered toward the front of the pen. It was at least four feet long and had eaten the eggs. Naturally, I was at fault for her grabbing the snake. For weeks after that, I had to make sure no snake was in the pen before she would help me gather the eggs.

*******
    Deb and the children camped several times near Nags Head between the mid 1990s and 2010.

    The first and last time that I went camping with Deb and the children was to Hanging Rock in 1999. Cinda, our dog, also went. We had a station wagon full with the dog, three children, and the camping gear. We used a two-room tent. Deb and I slept in the back room. The children slept in the front room. As we went just after the children had gotten out of school for the summer, the campground was crowded.

    In 2000, Deb and I began camping without the children. They were now old enough to leave at home alone. Our first such trip was to Stone Mountain. This was in the spring of 2000. This campground was the most crowded one at which we ever camped. When we arrived, only two or three sites were vacant. After this experience, we tried to time our camping trips such that few or no other campers were at the campground.

    In the fall of 2000, Deb and I camped at Pilot Mountain. We used a bicycle tent that we had bought for about $15. I put a tarp under the tent and one over it. The whole rig cost no more than $20.

    When we arrived at the park, only three or four of the nearly 60 campsites were occupied. We selected one away from everyone.

    Just before the gate closed, a family moved into the campsite across the road from us. They were towing a large camping trailer that appeared to be fully equipped. I guess that their rig cost between $20,000 and $30,000.

    I have always thought about how funny it would have been for someone walking down the road. He would look to one side and see a $20 outfit. On the other side, he would see a $20,000 outfit.

    Deb called that family Malcolm in the Middle. They seem to show up everywhere that we went.

    In November 2001, we camped at Merchant Mill Pond. By now I had bought a larger tent for us to use. We also had gotten a sleeping bag that held two people, so we could sleep together. At this time the water in the pond was down about six to eight feet. We took pictures of each other standing by a tree with our heads below the waterline. We canoed around the pond. Because the water was so low, we could not do much canoeing.

    In November 2002, we returned to Merchant Mills Pond. This time the pond was full. When we went canoeing, I thought that we would canoe around the pond for two hours. For four hours we canoed. We even went up a feeder stream. Both times that we camped at Merchant Mill Pond, we were the only campers there most nights.

    The reason that we camped at Merchant Mill Pond in November was that we did not have to pay the camping fees. The department for which I worked suspended fees for its employees camping at a state campground during the first week in November.

    Our last camping trips were at Medoc Mountain. On one of these trips, we forgot to pack towels. We went to two close-by stores  — not much exists within five miles or more of Medoc Mountain. Neither had towels. We ended up using a sweatshirt for a towel.

    I managed to arrange most of our camping trips so that we often had the campground to ourselves. Nearly every night we stayed at Medoc Mountain, we were the only people camping. When no one else was at the campground, we showered together. We enjoyed showering with each other. At the campground, we showered in the men’s room. We figured that if she were caught in the men’s room, there would be less commotion than if I got caught in the women’s room.

    Only once did we come close to being caught. Once at Medoc Mountain, we were showering together. When we went into the shower, on one else was at the campground. However, as I was getting out of the shower to dry off, a man walked in. I think I was in a greater state of panic than Deb was. Deb stayed in the shower until he left. An RV had parked at the campground while we were in the shower. That was the only time that we came close to being caught.

    Once at Medoc Mountain, we got caught in a thunderstorm during the night. Although the tent flapped a good deal in the storm, it remained up, and we stayed dry.

*******
    When Deb was doing her gourd art, she used a copper scrubbing pads to clean the husk off gourds after they cured. To make sure that she had an ample supply of pads, I put some in the cart nearly every time that we went grocery shopping. (For most of our marriage, we shopped for groceries together.) After a while she told me to stop getting them. She was afraid that people would think that we were manufacturing drugs.

*******
    Deb usually wrote a list of things that she would like to receive for Christmas and posted it on the refrigerator. One year her list contained a bathroom scale. For that Christmas, I bought her a bathroom scale. She must not have had any confidence in me getting her the scale, because she gave me one that same Christmas. Since then we have had two scales.

*******
    One Christmas Deb gave me an air compressor. At that time she was spray painting and wanted to do some airbrush art. The airbrush art that she did was mostly on her art car. So, she gave me an air compressor.

    I used it mostly for the tires and grease gun. Deb used it for art and to paint other things. The children and I teased her about buying the air compressor for me for her to use. That accusation made her defensive to the point of later saying that when she bought me a gift, it was for me and not her. As for me, I did not care if she used it every day. I seldom used it. Her using it was better than it just sitting idle.

*******
    Several years ago, I bought a Grundig Satellite 800 shortwave radio — mostly at Deb’s urging as it was not cheap. I had set the radio to turn itself off just before midnight and to turn itself on just after midnight on the station that played Amos and Andy and then turn itself off in 15 minutes. This was the original Amos and Andy, which lasted about 10 minutes. I had set it to play Amos and Andy so that I could hear it if I happened to be awake at that time of night.

    Once I went on a business trip and was gone over night. I forgot to fix the radio so that it would not turn itself on.

    When I returned home, Deb told me that she had awakened in the middle of the night and heard voices. At first she was frightened because she thought someone was in the house. Then she realized that the radio was playing.

    Her experience was somewhat funny. At the same time, I regretted not turning the timer off so that the radio would not come on. I regret the radio frightening her.

*******
    I have been to Mt. Mitchell several times. The last time that I went was in 2004. I took Deb with me to my division’s annual supervisor’s retreat. She got to tour the arboretum and sketch some plants (I posted the sketches that I found), while I sat in those exciting meetings. We left the third day so that we could go by the community college in Lenior, which our youngest son was thinking about attending. On the way there we went by the Vance homestead historical park and to Mount Mitchell. All that we saw when we reached the top of the mountain were cloud tops. That may have been her first time there.
    
    The only other supervisor’s retreat that I took Deb to was at Atlantic Beach. It was held at one of the better motels. That was Deb’s first encounter with a bedbug. Fortunately, it was dead. While I attended meetings, she some seagulls. (I posted these sketches.)

*******
    We did not have a guest room to junk up and then clean out. We had a three-bedroom house. Our two sons had one room, and our daughter, the other. When our daughter left home for college, we moved our youngest son into her room and converted his room to our computer room and mail room. When our youngest son left for college, Deb converted his room into her sewing room and drawing room. She wanted to discourage any of the kids returning home. Later he did come back home, and Deb lost her sewing and drawing room. Shortly before she became ill, our youngest son moved to Philadelphia. Deb got her room back, but it was short-lived. After she became ill, she invited our oldest son to move in and that room became his.

    Deb never seemed to suffer from empty-nest syndrome. She was glad that the children had left home. It was a fulfillment for her as she felt as though she had achieved her goal of rearing her children so that they could stand on their own. I think that I regretted seeing them leave more than she did.

*******
    We used to be in a Meet-up group that discussed preparedness for disasters, i.e., what to do when disaster, either natural or man-made, occurs, things to have on hand, etc. One lady often brought a cake for the group to eat during break. Deb decided that she should take something to a meeting. So, she baked blueberry muffins. Her muffins were a big hit. All the muffins were eaten. The other lady had to carry home about half her cake. Deb was really happy and puffed up about that. People preferred her muffins to the cake.

*******
    After I retired, Deb and I went to Raleigh about once a month. Sometimes the traffic was heavy when we returned home, but nothing like what it was when I came home from work. At times she commented that she did not know how I put up with all that traffic for all those years that I drove to and from work. I hope that it made her appreciate a little more what I did to support her and the children and the love that I had for them to do it.

*******
    Deb had a problem of cleaning out the refrigerator. Things got pushed to the back. After a while, she became afraid to touch it. It remained there longer because she did not want to touch it. She was afraid that it had all sorts of fury things growing on it. Sometimes it did get that bad. At times I had to take matters in my own hands and throw the  item away.

*******
    Deb was not much of a house cleaner. The longer we were married, the less she did. In later years, I did about as much as she did, which was not all that much. When she was in the hospital, I got my daughter, who is a house cleaner, to come and clean the house. It took her two trips. When I told Deb that our daughter was cleaning the house, she replied that she wondered where our daughter got her cleaning genes. She certainly did not get them from her mother.

    Although Deb was not a house cleaner, she was not a slob. She hated to vacuum, and even more she hated dusting. When we first moved into the house, she did make an effort to mop the floors about once each month. Sometimes she vacuumed. As time when on she did less, and I did more. However, she usually kept her kitchen under control. Except when canning, she managed to stay on top of keeping the kitchen clean. She also did the toilets from time to time as I seldom did them. I usually cleaned the tub. We both struggled with clutter. Keeping things in neat stacks with cats around who cannot tolerate neat stacks is hard.

    One thing that I learned was that the longer I was with Deb, the more I loved her. The more I loved her, the less important her housekeeping flaws and shortcomings became. Eventually, they became an essential part of her to be loved and cherished along with the rest of her.

*******
    A woman, whom I learned later was a mail carrier, had an ad in the same Mother Earth News as Deb. When I sent Deb a letter, I also sent this woman a letter. About six months later, I received a letter from her. She sent her picture and asked for its return if I were not interested. Along with returning her picture, I sent a letter informing her that I had already found someone, was married, and had a child on the way. (I never told Deb about this woman.) She must have thought that I was a fast worker. I was not a fast worker. I just hit the yotta-lottery jackpot. After fourteen years of struggle and failure and eight years of existing with a broken heart, I finally won the lottery. And I won big; I won the septillion dollar jackpot.

Copyright © 2013 by Thomas Coley Allen.

More articles on Deb. 

A Tribute to My Deb

A Tribute to My Deb

Thomas Allen

    It has been a year since my Deb past away. When she died, the best part of me died with her. Deb, I miss you, need you, and love you more than ever.
    The following are some random thoughts about Deb. There is some repetition. You will notice I often contrast Deb with me: She is an angel who walks on water, and I am less than nothing.

‒ These are the words that began the only years of real happiness and joy I have ever known: "Country lady, 27, wildlife artist, seeks loving lifemate to share adventures. Marigold." Deb, why you picked me out of the 100+ who wrote you, I may never know. But I am glad that you did.

‒ Deb, I don’t know how you put up with me for 30 years. But I am glad that you did. You gave me 30 years of happiness and joy — the only years of happiness and joy that I ever had. You must have had an enormous amount of love for me to put up with me for all those years with hardly a complaint. More than once did you tell me that it was a good thing you you loved me after I did something to upset you. You are the only woman who not only could tolerate my existence for more than a few hours or weeks, you actually wanted to be with me. You wanted to be with me year after year. No other woman ever made it beyond a few weeks; most could not tolerate being around me for more than a few hours.

‒ Deb, these are some of the things that I liked about you; they are in no particular order of importance. You tolerated my existence. Moreover, most of the time you wanted to be with me or at least have me around. You came to love me so much that you could put up with me for 30 years. You accepted me mostly as I am and never really tried to change me. (Because of you, I did change some and polished my rough edges.) You were a great motivator but never nagged. For me your presence was enough to motivate me. You gave me purpose and direction. You surrendered yourself to me about as completely as a woman could. You were great in bed, in the yard, and everywhere else. You were not much of a complainer. You were easygoing, cheerful, optimistic, compassionate, understanding, loyal, and faithful. Also, you were an attractive, frugal, low-maintenance woman who had discernment and intelligence and a good deal of common sense. Not only were you a great wife, you were a great mother. You cared about me and for me. Even when I was wrong, you stood by me. Even when I embarrassed you, you stood by me although you would let me know that I had embarrassed you. (You did a better job of standing by me than I did you.) You trusted me to support you and the children.
    Although I feel as though I failed you at the end, I always tried to take care of you. I tried to free you up so that you could concentrate on the two things that you valued most: your family and art. I devoted myself to you and was loyal and faithful to you. Although I fantasied about other women, I never seriously sought out anyone else or even wanted to. I never looked for temptation (I don’t know if temptation ever really looked for me. If it did, I was not paying attention.) I only wanted you; I desiderated you. When I retired, and even before, I tried to set up our finances so that you would be taken care of financially as I expected you to out live me by many years. (As you were 7 years younger than I, you should have out lived me by at least 15 years.) I considered supporting you and taking care of you a privilege and an honor. I love you dearly. Somewhere along the way, I came to love you so much that your flaws and shortcomings not only became irrelevant, they became an essential part of you to be loved and cherished along with the rest of you. (You must have reached that point with me to live with me for 30 years.)

‒ Deb, when I had you as my copilot, I never had to concern myself with hyper drivers getting to me. As my copilot, you took care of that for me. You would be the one to get irritated at their stupidity and do the yelling, not very loud, and making the sarcastic remarks.

‒ I missed not having you as my navigator. You were not a good navigator, but you were better than no navigator.

‒ In Dune there is a place that terrorizes women, a place that they fear even to look. I am that place. Only you, Deb, ever drank the water of life and went there. I doubt anyone else will ever follow you. Deb, you are unique among womankind.

‒ I don’t recall what we were talking about, but I do remember telling you that I liked taking you places. I wanted people to see me with you. I wanted to show you off.

‒ After we came back from our trip to the mountains last April (2011), you said that you wanted to clean up the trailer so that you could work on your large paintings. So, I repacked and rearranged the things that our youngest son left behind when he went to Philadelphia to make more room and cleaned the trailer for you. Unfortunately, you never got to work on another large painting. (Except for her ACEOs and the few paintings that she did when she was part of the gallery in Wake Forest, she did nearly all her paintings in the trailer.)

‒ Once I get our youngest son’s things and inheritance out of the trailer, I want to clean it up and do some rearranging. Then I can display your gourds. My heart breaks then and now as I think about your effort and hard work to do those gourds — and almost no one wanted to buy your beautiful and often humorous gourds. I know you were also disappointed.

‒ Deb, one of the multitude of things that I liked about you was that you were quick to forgive me. Whenever I disappointed or displeased you, you quickly forgave me if you ever condemned me. Unlike nearly every other woman whom I disappointed and displeased, you never carried a grudge against me. Most others have been unforgiving and would carry the grudge to the grave with them.

‒ Deb, you are the only woman who never let me down. You were always there and always stood by me even when I was wrong. You are the only woman to value me enough to give herself up to me. I doubt that another will ever come into my life.

‒ Deb, you were a great motivator. I am amazed at how much I was able to accomplish when you were with me — especially compared to how little I accomplish without you. All you had to do to motivate me was to be there. (Another one of your many virtues was that you did not nag.)

‒ I used to tell Deb that I was glad that I met her later in life instead of earlier. By meeting her later, I appreciated her much more. After enduring the misery of the 1970s, I realized what a precious, priceless treasure I had in Deb.

‒ In my relationship with you, Deb, I certainly came out ahead. I got a high quality woman with an enormous amount of virtue and very few flaws and shortcomings. You got a highly flawed low quality man with a huge amount of shortcomings. What you saw in me, I do not know and may never know. But you saw something in me that no one ever did, ever has, or ever will. You are the only woman who ever really wanted to be with and probably will be the only one whoever does. When I consider all my flaws and shortcomings, which far, far outweigh anything positive about me, I am amazed that you gave me a second look much less stayed with me for 30 years.

‒ Several months before Deb became ill, she made a comment about dying. I told her that she would break my heart. I did not realize how severely she would break it. Her death totally shattered my heart.

‒ Deb, the love that I had for you on January 1, 1982, when I married you was nothing compared to the love that I had for you on November 3, 2011, or even today. Forgive me Deb for not treating you as good as I should have and for not doing the things for you that I should have done.

‒ I have been going through Deb's files and putting her drawings, sketches, writings, etc. in notebooks and posting some on the internet. I have rediscovered some of her dreams that she never fulfilled. She wanted to draw and published a child’s book, but never did. She did draw and print several Tempus puzzle booklets for children, but I do not recall her ever selling any. She did send it to some publishers, but was rejected. She wanted to illustrate and published her mother’s book. I found a number of drawings of seagulls, which I assume that she wanted to use some of them to illustrate her mother’s book. Also, she wanted to be a cartoonist. So far as I know, none of her cartoons were ever published although some were great. She also drew and wrote several small cartoon books, but I don't think that she ever sold any.

‒ In one folder, I found work that Deb had done for the church and school where our children went. She was a volunteer art teacher at that school for a few years until the school discontinued its art program. (I found a protest cartoon that she did about that decision.) A  year later, the school reestablished an art program and hired a teacher. It never even considered Deb for the job, which sadden her and angered me.

‒ I found sketches and pictures of the scenery that she painted for Neuse Baptist Church Christmas show. For the art work that she did for the church and school excluding the teaching, they would have to have spent thousands of dollars. Also, I found letters that I wrote to the school leaders protesting them calling my wife a liar and my daughter a homicidal slut. Then they cast my wife aside and basically drove us from the school unless we kowtowed to their dictates. They seemed to be glad that we left. There were many good people there, and the pastor was kind and compassionate (although he appears to have done nothing to resolve the conflict between the school leaders and my wife and later me and my daughter), but the leadership that established itself around the pastor, church, and school was autocratic and unyielding. In their minds, they knew everything. (At least some justice was done. The girl who was causing problems for my daughter and getting her in trouble at the school ended up in prison. Proof that a “Dr.” in front of a name or “PhD” after a name is no evidence of discernment, wisdom, or common sense as all three of the school leaders who attacked Deb and my daughter had doctoral degrees.)

‒ As I have told several people that I am one of the few people for whom the greatest artist of the last 50 years drew or painted a portage. Deb did an ink drawing of me in a Confederate uniform on a horse. She did one of the pastor of our church standing with lions. This same wonderful artist also did several self-portraits. Seeing Deb’s drawings in her files only reenforce my conclusion: She was a genius. Not only was she a highly skilled drawer and artist, she drew and painted with humor. Many of her drawings and paintings revival her humor, especially in the later years. Unfortunately, few people recognized her talents and abilities. I hope that in the years to come she will be recognized as the talented genius that she really was. The few who bought her work may have a valuable treasure in the years to come. (I have absolutely no bias for Deb's work.)

‒ I found that she made great use of the scrape paper that I brought home. Many of her drawings and writings were done on the back of that scrape paper. Needless to say, I have shed many tears as I have gone through Deb’s files.

‒ This year (2012) was the first time in two decades that I did not go to pick strawberries. Deb, you made excellent strawberry jam and strawberry shortcake. Some people may have made better jam and shortcake, but you made yours with love.

‒ Those of you who have not read Deb's blogs ought to. Here is one of her most philosophical blogs:
    If you don’t like God talk don’t read this.
    I know you can’t buy your stairway to heaven. Some people try by doing all sorts of things for their church and giving huge amounts of money. No God doesn’t want what he already owns to begin with. As an artist I was guilty of thinking that giving my artwork and art teaching away to a church would bring me closer to God and he would bless me with lots of art buyers. Big mistake because the more I gave the more the people in the church took without buying my art. God does love a cheerful giver but you need to be sure it is God you are giving too. Charity has to come from love to be cheerful. God really wants us follow his commandments, give him our love and have faith in him to take care of us. So I let go of the greedy church, I moved on to a place I could worship a loving God and give without threats from a church. Only then did I really see all the blessing God had already given me.

‒ In a few of her blogs, Deb wrote about things that she wanted to do or planned to do in the future. Now that future is forever gone. Before she died, she was thinking  of many things to paint. When in the hospital, she told me that when she got out, we could do a book together about her ordeal. I would write it, and she would illustrate it. Her failing to live to do these things is a great lost to the world.

‒ Deb, I will miss you at apple harvest time. You made life easier. When I had a big harvest, I could stack baskets of apples 3 and 4 high on the cart, and you would steady the load as I hauled it to the trailer. Now I will have to double my trips. When I ran short of jugs, you would wash some more while I continued to press. Also, I will miss your apple strudel. When we had a big harvest like that of 2010, you would make apple butter and applesauce. You processed the apples from trees that produced too few to juice.

‒ Deb, I will miss you when the grapes come in. You helped me pick and juice them. Without you helping me, it takes twice as long. When the freezers were full, you would make grape jam. Usually, I did the sticky  work of separating the pulp from the hulls. (She made several batches in 2010.)

‒ Deb, I miss you when I go Christmas shopping. I miss not having you at my side questioning just about everything that I suggest for a present and often saying no. It was somewhat irritating then as you seldom offered any suggestions, but now I miss it.

‒ In 2009, Deb made and gave me a video for Valentine's Day. It was the greatest Valentine's gift that I have ever received and one of my greatest presents. As Deb's song, “Our House” by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, says in her video, “life used to be so hard, but everything is easy because of you.” Well, Deb, you made everything easy for me. Even in the worst of times, things were easy because of you. Now they are again hard. “Our house is a very, very, very fine house.” It was an extremely fine home when you were in it. Now it has an immense void that is swallowing me up. Deb, you did “play those love songs all night long for me, just for me.” I hope that I did the same for you. “Only for you,” for you Deb. You were my “unchained melody.” Only you are the ghost instead of me. I hunger for your touch; I need your love. The only thing that remains is “two cats in the yard.” Deb, you are my soul and my inspiration. I never had much, but at least I had you. You were all that I needed to get me by. You were my reason for being. Without you, what good am I? I can’t make it without you. When I play this video, it tears me to pieces.

‒ Deb, you wanted so much for everyone to be happy and to get along with each other. I am glad that I was able to free you of financial worries so that you could concentrate on the two things you valued most: raising your family and doing your art. I enjoyed supporting you and trying to relieve you of as much worry and concern as possible. I always tried to support you in whatever you did although I often did an inadequate job.

‒ In one of her messages on Facebook, Deb commented that I was taking her to a cookout that she did not want to go to, but she was going to it because she thought I wanted to go. The main reason that I wanted to go was because I thought she wanted to go. I was taking her so that she could get out of the house and be with some of her friends for an afternoon. If I had known that she did not want to go, we would not have gone.

‒ In the early years of our marriage, Deb would help in the garden. Mostly, her help was as a sidewalk supervisor. But she did plant some seeds and help me with things that required more than one person or were much easier with two. As the kids got old enough to help, she began doing less and less. However, her presence always provided purpose and motivation. We always had an area for her to plant her flowers. In latter years, planting flowers and cutting asparagus were about all that she did in the garden other than helping me cut plastic and fold nets as these jobs require two people. Several years ago, I planted a new asparagus bed for her. The other asparagus bed had gone to weed years earlier. She also knew where the wild asparagus were growing and would keep an eye on them and harvest them. Since she liked French, I planted a French variety of garlic for her. Unfortunately, she never got to use any.

‒While cleaning out some old files, I came across a letter that I wrote a few years before I met Deb. It reminded me of what Deb saved me from and what she shielded me from for 30 years. For 30 years I actually mattered to someone. In essence, I am not a desirable person to be around. Deb saw something in me desirable and stayed with me for 30 yeas. Whatever it was, I don't know, but I am glad that she found it.

‒ Although I angered you at times, Deb, you always cared about me. Although I disappointed you at times, you never disappointed me and, more importantly you never rejected me. You were always there for me. You seemed to always find me desirable; I always found you desirable. You always made me feel loved, needed, and wanted.

‒ I was once asked what was on my bucket list. I did not answer because I cannot achieve what is on my bucket list. My bucket list was to celebrate my 50th wedding anniversary with Deb in the house that we built.

‒ When going through Deb’s things, I found her bucket list. She wanted to do some things that she never did. I did not get around to doing them for her — mostly because I did not know about them. If she had lived longer, we would have done many of them, especially if she had told me.

‒ Once the blueberry bushes started really producing, we got more blueberries than we knew what to do with. One way Deb found to use blueberries was to make blueberry pancakes. For about 20 years before she became too ill to cook, we had blueberry pancakes nearly every Sunday morning. She also made many very delicious blueberry muffins. A few times she made blueberry jam.

‒ Deb and I seemed to have spoiled each other without even trying. By the time I retired, Deb’s work load had been reduced to processing the harvest (except juicing apples and grapes and shelling the beans and peas), cooking meals, washing dishes, doing laundry, taking out the cat box when she couldn’t get the kids to do it, and planting her flowers (I prepared the bed and did the weeding for her). I tried to free her up so that she had a good deal of time for painting, reading, surfing the web, etc.

‒ When Deb’s gardenia bloomed this year (2012), it was so loaded with flowers that the flowers weighted the branches to the ground. It was as though the bush was weeping for Deb. Deb’s mother gave her that bush. Deb loved that bush and its flowers.

‒ Moving from sweat to stench, I doubt that Deb is missing the chestnuts in bloom with their unforgettable foul stench. The best use that was ever made of the chestnuts was Deb and the kids roasting them in a fire to hear them pop. If I had it to do over again. I would not plant chestnuts.

‒ Deb liked garden peas, especially fresh from the garden. She froze the excess and used them in various dishes, especially her chicken and rice, chicken and noodles, and beef and rice dishes.

‒ Deb was not an easy person to anger. That is one of the multitude of things that I liked about her. The angriest that I recall seeing her occurred at a street show in Wake Forest. She was displaying and selling her art from her art car. A woman stopped with her daughter and admired one of Deb’s paintings. As they walked away, the woman commented to her daughter that Deb was using paint-by-the-numbers kits. Deb started after that woman to give her the lecture of her life. I thought I was going to have to grab her to restrain her. But Deb cooled off before she got to the woman and returned to the car while muttering her dislike of the woman’s comment.

‒ Deb had one virtue that far, far out weighted all her flaws. Not only did she tolerate my existence, she actually wanted me around. Although I know some people did not love her, it is beyond me why anyone could not love her.

‒ Deb, I was extremely happy with you as my wife and with my life with her. Your being filled my life with joy. I had more than I ever expected or could have hoped for and more than I deserved.

‒ Deb, a major part of my problem is that I love you too damn much. When I married you, I loved you dearly and more deeply than I have ever loved anyone. I devoted myself to you and made your happiness the top priority. Your welfare was of supreme importance. All that I had was yours. All these feelings were nothing compared to what was later to come.
    Somewhere around 1995-1996 after our last major argument, something changed in me toward you — more subconsciously than consciously. You became my focus, my reason for being. Over time, you became more of me than I was of myself. I started doing more for you and reducing your choirs. I left you a few things to do so you had something to do and could feel like you were contributing. I tried to set up our finances so that at least you would be financially taken care of after I was gone.

‒ I would rather go through what I am going through now than have you go through it. I wish that I could have borne your illness for you. Nevertheless, you bore it better than I would or could have. You could endure my lost better than I can endure yours.

‒ I usually went to bed before Deb did. After I was in bed, she would come up and take her shower. I surely miss seeing her walking across the room and getting into bed after her shower.

‒ Deb, I miss not having you at my side when I go to sleep and wake up. You probably won more of the blanket battles than I did. I don’t recall seeing the blanket on the floor on my side of the bed. It did occasionally end up on the floor on your side. I have the tendency to push the blanket down when I first get into bed after getting out of a hot shower. Then when I cool off, I pull it up. When I pushed the blanket down, your shoulders were exposed and cold. We solved that problem by your using a small blanket to cover your shoulders.

‒ Deb and I used to save fan blades. She painted patterns on the blades. Then she put the blade on a shaft and attach the shaft to a pole. The wind blew; the blade turned. No longer do I need to save fan blades for her. When the wind finally destroys the two in the yard, no longer will I have the pleasure of seeing Deb’s fan blades turn in the wind.

‒ Deb and I used to save old speakers. She took the magnet out of the speaker. Then she sprayed foam over the magnet. Sometimes with a little carving and sometimes without carving, she had a figure. Next she painted the figure. At a few of her street shows, she sold these figures. Children really liked them. No longer do I need to save old speakers for her.

‒ Several years ago, I made Deb a pair of moccasins from a kit. They did not fit her. She had feet that were uncommonly wide for a woman. They were blocky. She saw the disappointment in my face when they did not fit. To make me feel better, she wore them several days anyway.

‒ Deb, you always protected me and frequently kept me from getting into trouble. By nature, I am a trusting person — often too trusting. At times I would agree to things that I should not have. If you were around, you would halt the agreement. After I thought about what you did, I knew that you were right. No longer do I have you to protect me from my folly.

‒ We had a Jonathan apple tree that died some years ago. Deb like Jonathan apples. Several years ago, I planted another one. That tree has yet borne an apple. When it does bear, Deb will not be around to enjoy any of its apples.

‒ Deb, you did make me happy; I hope I made you at least as half as happy as you made me. You did more for me than anyone, including you and me, can ever realized or ever will realize.

‒ I regret not being a better husband and a better friend. Moreover, I regret not doing more for you, Deb. You loved me more than I thought was possible (you had to have an immense amount of love for me to put up with me for 30 years). You  made my life easy and joyful. I miss serving you.

‒ Deb, I surely miss you. It is not the things that you did for me that I really miss although I do miss them. What I really miss are the intangibles that you gave me: love, devotion, caring, cheerfulness, optimism, joy, happiness, friendship, companionship, and the like. Moreover, I miss devoting myself to you, giving to you, caring for you, taking care of you, providing for you, supporting you, sharing life with you, going places with you, etc. I miss you not being in the house when I come in from doing yard work.

‒ One good thing about Deb dying before me, if it can be called good, is that she is not having to go through what I am going through. I am convinced, though, that she could handle it better than I; she was always better at such things than I.

‒ I have been told that no one dies from a broken heart. That may be true. But one can certainly die with a broken heart.

‒ Deb, the longer that you are gone from me, the more I miss you and the more I realize how much I love you and need you. You were, are, always will be, and probably have been since the beginning of time, my desideratum. When I look at your chair and you are not there. . . .

‒ I will always love you, Deb, and shall never forget you and the joy, happiness, contentment, and purpose that you brought me. As I told one person, I cannot forget the 30 happiest years of my life. Deb, I am gradually returning to “normal” — or at least what can pass for normal without you. However, I still feel as though I am going through the motions without purpose, direction, or motivation.

‒ Thanks to you, Deb, I did achieve much of what I set out to accomplish that was really important. I got a good homestead where my family could be raised. I married a fantastic woman, who loved me, devoted herself to me, and took care of me and whom I loved, devoted myself to, and took care of. We had three children (we originally wanted four, but health issues of yours caused us to stop at three); all of whom have turned out good. As a bonus, I got two grandchildren. I was fortunate enough to have a job that could support my family without scrimping although our budget was tight for about the first 15 years. I wish that I could have figured out how to have given you the kitchen that you wanted. I wish that I was a great promoter and marketer so that I could have gotten your paintings sold. Also, I wished that I had started taking you on weekly trips in 2008 instead of 2010. I regret not being able to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary together.

‒ Deb. I surely do miss you. I miss not taking showers with you. I miss you not fixing meals for me. I miss not eating with you. I miss you not being in the house when I come in from feeding the animals or doing yard work. I miss not seeing you going to the mailbox as I am also going. I miss you not being with me when I go to the post office, the hardware store, the building supply store, and the grocery store. I miss not having you at my side when I go to sleep and when I wake up. I miss you not being next to me when I watch a movie. I miss your help, your advice, your hugs and kisses, and your love. I never knew I could ever miss anyone as much as I miss you, Deb. The hardest thing that I have ever had to do is to go on without you.

‒ No one could ever have been as good of a wife for me as you were. You were the best — the very best. Deb, I had a great adventure with you. I hope you had one with me.

Copyright © 2012 by Thomas Coley Allen.

More articles on Deb. 

Some More Reflections

Some More Reflections
Thomas Allen

What follows are random thoughts about life with Deborah.

‒ Whenever we had an argument or disagreement, Deb was usually right. I seldom told her that she was right, which speaks poorly of me. However, if she were paying any attention, she would have realized that I concluded that she was right. Most of the time, I tried to change things so that such an argument would not occur in the future.

‒ As far as I know, I was the only one who prayed for Deb to get well. Every prayer uttered in my presence was a mealy-mouth-God-comfort type of prayer. One of those types of prayers that cannot be verified whether it was answered. Since I was praying for Deb to be healed and to come home disease free and she did not, then that means one of three things. One is God lies. Two is that the Bible is written the way that a shyster lawyer writes a contract: a bold promised is made in one place, but voided in another. In Matthew 7:7-8, Jesus says, “Ask and it shall be given. . . . For everyone who asks receives. . . .” As I asked and did not receive, then this simple promise must have been voided elsewhere. That is deception, which is a lie. (One popular response to unanswered prayer is that the prayer did not have enough faith. How much faith is enough? When the number of failed prayers is considered, that must be a humanly impossible threshold to cross. Up to the last day, I thought that Deb was going to come home. Based on the quoted verse all the faith that one needs to have is faith to ask.) Three is that someone was praying for her death and God valued that person’s prayer more than everyone praying for her to be healed. (I would not be surprised if people at hospice were praying for her death. Those people love death.)

‒ Once we married, I always considered the money that I earned as “our” money. It was as much Deb’s and mine, i.e., it belonged to the family. She had the hardest time comprehending that concept. For the longest time, she considered the money that I earned as mine. One of the first things that I did after we married was to put her name on my checking and savings accounts.

‒ At one of Deb’s street shows in Wake Forest, a woman came up to Deb’s art car with her daughter. She commented to her daughter that Deb’s painting was a color-by-the-number painting. That comment really made Deb angry. She could hardly restrain herself.

‒ When she had her art car, she used it at all her street shows to display her art that she was selling.

‒ When I married Deb, down inside myself, I expected nothing but an idealistic, dreamlike marriage. Deb delivered it. Our marriage was not always smooth. We needed time to adjust to each other. We never gave up and worked on solving and eliminating conflict. Over time, our marriage did run smoothly and became idyllic with little conflict.

‒ We used to have a Jonathan apple tree, which died. Deb liked Jonathan apples and wanted me to plant another one. After I retired, I finally got around to planting another one. However, it has never borne any fruit. She will never eat an apple from that tree.

‒ Deb brought me the happiest 30 years of my life — the only years worth living. She made my dreams come true. I believe that I did the same for her although she never did become a renowned artist. Nevertheless, she had a devoted husband, who tried to love her more than she loved him. I had a devoted wife who always succeeded in loving me more than I loved her.

‒ The year of 2011 was a year of a great blessing and a great curse. I was blessed with the honor and privilege of serving Deb during her last months of life. I was cursed with the failure of not protecting her from hospice.

‒ When Deb died, so did I. Not physically of course, but I died every other way. My great punishment for failing her is to linger on as a lonely, unhappy old man — doomed forever to eat alone, to sleep alone, and to be alone. I fear that I am condemned to relive the 1970s, the worst decade of my life. It was a decade of loneliness, with defeat after defeat. I was nothing — unwanted and lost. No one wanted anything that I had to offer: love, devotion, fidelity, and the like — totally worthless virtues. I fear that never again will I know the happiness and joy that she brought. Getting over grieving her was easy compared to going on living without her. That is living as opposed to existing. I need hope, but hope does not exist. Instead of looking forward to a future without her, I need to look forward to a future with someone. Without that I would rather die quickly and join her.

‒ Deb is the only woman whoever saw anything of value in me. I fear that she will remain the only woman to do so. No one else will find what she found. Unless someone does, I have no future. Existence not life lies ahead. May it be short.

Copyright © 2011 by Thomas Coley Allen.

More articles on Deb. 

Reflections

Reflections
Thomas Allen

What follows are random thoughts about life with Deborah.

‒ I am glad that Deb and I did not court much. I was not very good at courting. Most of our interaction was through letters and telephone conversations. Before we married, I visited her in Connecticut for about five days, and she visited me in North Carolina for about five days. I did turn out to be an excellent husband for her. Likewise, she turned out to be an excellent, even ideal, wife for me. Courting and marriage are like campaigning and performing the duties of an elective office. They require two different sets of skills, attributes, and abilities. Because a person is good at one does not mean that he is good at the other.

‒ As paradoxical as it sounds, until Deb was gone, I never realized how much she guided me and told me what to do without ever saying a word. She seldom right out told me what to do or not do. Yet without speaking, even with body language, she was the guiding influence telling me what to do and not to do. Perhaps it was because she gave everything purpose and meaning. Perhaps it was because she came to surrender herself totally to me that I could not help but to follow her unspoken instructions.

‒ Deb was, so to speak, my security blanket. I did things, such as speaking against issues at public hearings, that I would not have done without her. Her presence gave me courage even if she were not with me. When the children were young, she did not accompany me because she remained home to watch them. After they became old enough to look after themselves, she went with me. Whether she accompanied me or remained home, she gave me courage, direction, and purpose. I knew that she was there behind me and for me.

‒ When Deb was ill, I commented that wished I could have borne her burden to spare her the suffering. Now I am having to bear a burden that she will never have to bear. I am having to bear her loss and the void that it has created. Deb, it hurts! I am not having to feel the physical pain that she endured. Nevertheless, I am having to endure an enormous amount of pain. By her dying first, at least I am sparing her this pain. However, I am convinced that she could have borne it better than I am. She was my superior at such things.

‒ One reason that I love Deb so much and so deeply is that she never rejected me. She always accepted me. She accepted me as I was, and I accepted her as she was.

‒ Deb was always easy going and rarely demanding. She did have to run off to visit her sister occasionally. Also, every year or two, she had to go to the beach with the children after they were older.

‒ This year, 2011, was the first year in the last 29 years that I was not with Deb on my birthday (she died a few hours before) or her birthday. It was the first year in 30 years that I did not eat Thanksgiving dinner with her or celebrate Christmas with her.

‒ Before Deb got sick, I usually had little patience or compassion for sick people — especially myself. After Deb became ill, I soon acquired a great deal of patience and compassion for her. I was honored with the privilege of serving her during her illness. Although I did not always succeed, I tried to serve her the best that I could. My biggest regret is failing to defend her against and protect her from hospice. That failure resulted in her premature death. Hospice took weeks and maybe months off her life. Now I have to live with that failure for the rest of my life.

‒ When she was in the hospital, Deb bragged to the nurses and aides about having such a good husband. (I enjoyed hearing her say that.) I was there because I had a better wife. While she was in the hospital, I spent nine to twelve hours a day with her. While she was in the hospice house, I was with her 60 out of every 72 hours. I was with her because of her.

‒ When I first met Deb, little did I realize that I had found paradise on earth — or at least as close as a man can come in this sinful world. Wives can either make a marriage heaven on earth or hell on earth. Deb made it heaven. Not that everything always ran smoothly with no disagreement, they certainly did not. However, over time discord faded and harmony grew. Being married to Deb was a blessing and much more than I deserved.

‒ Deb and I came about as close as sinners can come to following the directions of Ephesians 5:24-33. She yielded herself to me and made me her head. In return, I tried to love her as Christ loves the Church (although no human can so fully love) and gave her all that I could. We also strove to follow the instructions of 1 Corinthians 7:3-5 and tried not to withhold our bodies from each other.

‒ I do not recall if it were the first turkey that Deb cooked for Thanksgiving, but it was one of the first ones. We had forgotten to get a pan in which to cook the turkey when we bought the turkey. Back then most stores closed on Thanksgiving. So I could not go buy one. I ended up sawing off the upper part of a big enamel pot for her to use. Later we use the resulting pan as a dish to feed the dog.

‒ Although we had some arguments, I only remember one. Like most of our arguments, it dealt with money for the school. The school that our children went to usually waited until the day before money was needed for a field trip or whatever before asking for it. Waiting to the last minute to ask for money really irritated me, especially since they knew at the beginning of the school year that they would need the money. I like to budget for expenses and do not like surprises, especially when the people wanting the money knew far enough in advance that I could have budgeted for it if they had told me. Anyway, Deb took money that I had allocated for another purpose and gave it to the school. That set me off. I ranted for sometime. After I finished my rant, I felt bad. Although I did not admit it, she did the right thing under the circumstance. I resolved the problem by setting up a borrowing and repayment system. (Now that I look back, probably much of the argument was my frustration with the school.) I do not recall us ever arguing about money after that.

‒ One of the many things that I admired about Deb was that she trusted me in the position of being the head of our relationship and marriage. She forced me to take on that responsibility whether I wanted it or not. I must admit I was somewhat reluctant at first, but she knew what was best. For any relationship and marriage to be highly successful, the man must take the responsibility of being the head. That is a major reason that our marriage was so happy and successful.

‒ Deb saw something in me of great worth. She saw a goodness and greatness in me that no one else ever did or has since. Whatever it was, I did not know and still do not. Most likely, she would have difficulty explaining it. It was more something she sensed and felt than something she could articulate. Nevertheless, she saw it and brought it out. She made life worth living and got things out of me that I did not know were possible or even existed.

Copyright © 2011 by Thomas Coley Allen.

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An Unappreciated Woman

An Unappreciated Woman
Thomas Allen

[Editor’s note: This article was posted on Deborah’s birthday. If hospice had not killed her prematurely, most likely, she would have lived to celebrate her 58th birthday.]

Two weeks after Deborah died, the Franklin County Arts Council had its ribbon cutting opening of its remodeled arts building. Regrettably, Deb did not live to see this change. The remodeled building would have brought joy to her heart. It was what she had argued for for years.

Until about three years ago, the chief promoter of the Whistler’s Convention controlled the Franklin County Arts Council. He controlled it either directly or from behind the scene. Deb wanted to change the focus of the Franklin County Arts Council from the Whistler’s Convention to promoting Franklin County art and artists. Her arguments were ignored, and she finally gave up.

Her criticism the chief promoter of the Whistler’s Convention almost got her sued. He demanded an apology from her. So, I drafted a letter of apology for her to send to the newspaper. In the letter, she thanked him for proving her point by his action.

When the State threatened to withhold grant funds if the Franklin County Arts Council remained involved with the Whistler’s Convention, the two separated. Under new management, Deb started seeing the Franklin County Arts Council moving in the direction for which she had for years argued. It now focused on promoting Franklin County art and artists.

(Deb’s family has lent the Franklin County Arts Council a self portrait of Deborah. This portrait is hanging in the Franklin County Arts Council’s art building in memory of her.)

The Christian school at which Deb taught art as a volunteer for several years certainly did not appreciate her. The students appreciated her; they loved her and enjoyed her classes. However, some people at the school often seemed to consider her an unwanted intruder. At least they treated her as such. At best they considered her a nuisance. The administrator did little or nothing to resolve the conflict. When he did do something, he usually sided with the teachers against Deb. Eventually, they began attacking her daughter. These attacks were more than Deb could stand.

Before her experience with the school, she was active in the church that sponsored the school. Her experience at the school poisoned her enthusiasm for the church. (Many people at the school were also involved with the church.) After the school forced her daughter out, she endured the church another year for the sake of her eldest son, who still attended the school.

Except for a small church (a dozen attendees were a big crowd) that she attended for several years until it ceased operating, she lost all interest in going to church. With this exception, the few churches that she did attend reminded her of the school church. Such a reminder caused her to lose interest in them.

I came to appreciate her greatly. Deb was a great source of brilliant ideas although many people rejected her suggestions. I soon learned that when she suggested something: do it. She was usually right. Nearly every time a project stumped or frustrated me, her suggestion almost always solved the problem.

Deborah had a brilliance and wisdom about her that few recognized. Her premature death is an irreplaceable lost to me and the world. I hope someday people will recognize how great she really was. Maybe one day she will be fully appreciated.

Copyright © 2011 by Thomas Coley Allen. 

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Trust and Submission

Trust and Submission
Thomas Allen

Deborah did not trust a person until that person gave her reason to trust him. I do not know what I did or did not do to earn her trust. Whatever it was, she came to trust me so much and so completely that eventually she unhesitatingly and unquestionably submitted herself to me totally. Whatever it was, I am glad that I did it or did not do it. Her unhesitating, total submission to me caused my total devotion to her and my complete loyalty and faithfulness to her. Her submission drew us ever closer together. No longer will I enjoy the pleasure of her submission and all the goodness that it drew out of me toward her.

One of the things that made Deb and me so close was her total dependence on me for her financial needs. She trusted me so much that she submitted herself to me completely to take care of her financial needs. Such trust and submission devoted me completely to her. Only her unhesitating, unquestionable, unconditional, and unlimited love for me could have caused such total trust and submission. Such love for me resulted in my unhesitating, unquestionable, unconditional, and unlimited love for her. It caused me to be completely devoted to her. Although I will love her forever, I no longer have the privilege and honor to support her.

Deb also came to trust me enough to submit completely to me to take care of her emotional needs. I believe that I was ahead of her on this one. I had completely submitted to her to satisfy and protect my emotional needs before she reciprocated. Our total trust and complete submission to each other to satisfy and protect each other’s emotional needs drew us ever closer together. No longer can I submit myself to her to take care of my emotional needs. No longer will she submit to me to take care of her emotional needs.

Deb’s complete submission was a powerful glue that made our marriage so strong and beautiful. It drew me ever closer to her as it drew her ever closer to me. Our marriage was built upon the foundation of her trust in me that led to her total, unhesitating, and unquestionable submission to me. So strong and enjoyable was our bond for each other that neither of us ever did anything that we thought would jeopardize the trust that we had for each other.

Closely related to trust and submission was her complete and unconditional commitment to me. In return, I committed myself completely and unconditionally to her. Out of this commitment to each other came our unconditional love for each other. Our commitment and unconditional love for each other created a marriage that only death could dissolve — but it could not end the love.

Copyright © 2011 by Thomas Coley Allen.

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No longer

No Longer
Thomas Allen

Not in any particular order, the following is a list of some little things that I did for Deborah, that she did for me, and that we did with each other that made our lives together more enjoyable. This list also includes other thoughts.

‒ When Deb was in the hospital, I wonder how I would take care of her and get my pruning done. Taking care of her would have had priority over pruning. If it got done at all, the pruning would have gotten done whenever I could have gotten to it. (Until her last day in the hospice house, I always thought that Deb was going to come home. The last day I began to realize that hospice and the atheists were going to win.) I no longer have to neglect my pruning to take care of her.

‒ When Deb was in the hospital, I wondered how I would get her to the front door during the winter. After the first winter snow or heavy rain, the yard turns into a mushy sponge and can remain that way for more than a week. She was using the front door instead of the back door because she had fewer steps to walk up. (The last time that she was home, she could walk up and down the front steps by herself.) I will no longer have to be concerned about that problem.

‒ Nearly every Sunday morning since our blueberry bushes began producing prolifically (about 20 years ago), Deb would make blueberry pancakes. She started making blueberry pancakes to use up blueberries. No longer will I eat her blueberry pancakes.

‒ On weekends, days that I did not work, and every day after I retired, she would fix breakfast while I attended the animals. The only exception was when she was not at home. I would often find breakfast waiting for me or nearly ready when I returned. Never again will I eat a breakfast that she has fixed me.

‒ After we returned from our trip to the mountains in April, I began thanking about us taking a trip to the east in October — probably to Edenton. Never again will I have to think about taking a trip with her anywhere.

‒ Obviously, I expected her to come home because I continued to give her pocket money until the end. Never again will I have to give her any pocket money.

‒ I was going to buy Deb another curio for her bird collection. The two that she had had become crowded. For some years when I bought her a bird, I would tell the clerk that wanted a small bird because my wife’s collection had out grown her curios. Usually, I gave her a bird for our wedding anniversary, Valentine’s Day, her birthday, and Christmas. Now I no longer have the joy of buying her presents.

‒ I used to rejoice along with her when her ACEOs sold — especially when one got into a bidding war and sold for more than $2. She would rejoice along with me whenever someone ordered some of my books or booklets. Such rejoicing is forever gone and will no longer occur.

‒ We used to enjoy hugging each other. No longer shall we hug each other.

‒ Most nights Rug the cat would lie on Deb’s lap as she watched television. No longer does Rug have her lap on which to lie.

‒ Around the time that Deb became ill, she made a comment about dying. I told her that she would break my heart. What I did not realize was how severely she would break it. No longer can I live without a broken heart for her.

‒ Deb wanted to start painting large pictures again. I began cleaning up the trailer so that she would have room to work on her paintings. That is one project that I will no longer have to finish.

‒ Every time Deb received her annual statement from social security, she worried about not receiving any social security because she did not have enough quarters to qualify. Each time I would have to remind her that she could draw off mine. Now she no longer has to worry about that, and I no longer have to remind her that she did not have to worry.

‒ Deb liked a good deal of stroking and reassurance. I am not good at that. However, I did let her know that I wanted to show her off and that I wanted to be with her as much as possible. I was proud of being with her and being seen with her. After I retired (and on days off when I was working), I asked her to go with me everywhere that I went. The exception was the dump and barbershop; she did not care about going to these places. No longer am I able to go places with her and show her off.

‒ Whenever someone or something really irritated me or one of my projects frustrated me, I often yelled. If Deb were near me, as she often was, she would usually ask me why I was yelling at her and said that she had not done anything. I had to remind her that I was not yelling at her. She just happened to be around when I was yelling. No longer will I have to remind her.

‒ I do not recall Deb and me having any real arguments during the last 10 or 15 years. Over time we learned what was important and what was not. We learned that harmony was much better than discord. We also came to view issues from the other’s perspective. Deb learned quicker than I did. At first, whenever I disagreed with her, she would often resist. Later, she would usually let me vent without resistance. She had learned that most of the time she was going to get what she wanted. By not resisting, she got it quicker. I eventually learned that lesson too. Over time my arguments with her faded away. I came to realize that what made her happy, made me happy. Now all of this is a nonissue. No longer will I have the joy of giving into her. (She was never a demanding woman, so letting her have her way was a joy and not a hardship.)

‒ Deb and I never really tried to change each other. We accept each other the way we were. However, we gradually moved toward what we thought the other wanted. No longer will this movement continue.

‒ I always encouraged Deb in her art because I knew how important art was to her. I went to every show that she had after we married. When her art did not sell, I think that I was more disappointed than she was. Whenever I made a critical remark at one of her shows, at first she thought I was criticizing her work. I had to remind her that I was not criticizing her work. I was criticizing the viewers for not seeing the value of her work and buying. Eventually, she understood that I was not criticizing her. No longer will I go to a show with her or encourage her in her art.

‒ Deb liked to cook with onions and garlic. In September when she was home, I planted two beds (about 100 square feet) of garlic for her — one bed was a French garlic. She will no longer use the garlic or onions that I grow for her, and I will no longer need to grow garlic and onions for her.

‒ No longer will Deb and I go to the post office together. We went to the post office to mail her ACEOs and my books. No longer will we shop for groceries or Christmas gifts together. No longer will we go to the hardware store together to pickup a part to fix something around the house.

‒ After I retired, many mornings Deb would stand on one side of the stove cooking my eggs. I would stand on the other side cooking my grits. No longer will we stand together at the stove cooking my breakfast.

Copyright © 2011 by Thomas Coley Allen.

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A Remarkable Woman

A Remarkable Woman
Thomas Allen

Deborah was the most remarkable woman that I have ever known. She was the only woman whom I have loved who returned that love. Not only did she return my love, she returned it with interest. No matter how much I loved her, and I loved her intensely, she always loved me more.

I always tried to return her love for me with interest. She always tried to return my love for her with interest. We both strove to give more love to the other than we were receiving. Thus, our love for each other escalated. (Such love made the flaws that we used to see in each other fade into insignificant nothingness.)

Deb did more for me than anyone can imagine. I doubt that she ever realized how much she did do for me. Figuratively speaking, she found me in the gutter and carried me to the highest peak. She made me what I became. She did it without nagging or pushing. She did it with love: her love for me and my love for her. With love she molded me into someone far greater than I imaged that I could be.

I was nothing when Deb found me. Fortunately for me, she saw something in me that no one else ever did. With her loving care, she picked me up and carried me to heights that I did not know existed. All that is good that I became, I owe to her. Now that she is gone, I just hope that I do not regress to where she found me.

When we first married, I resented her not doing certain things. As I learned what was really important — her happiness and well-being — that resentment faded away. I adjusted to her, and she adjusted to me. We were always becoming closer to each other.

The longer I lived with Deb, the more important she became. During the last twenty years of our marriage, I seldom did anything important without considering how it would affect her. Her welfare was of upmost importance to me. If what I was considering did not benefit her, and especially if it might harm her, I did not do it.

Many things I should have done for her, but I fail to do them. I regret not doing all that I could have done for her.

The longer we were married, the more we became one in thought and action. Over time, Deb became more and more of me. Eventually, she became more of me than I was of myself. She became the most important and significant part of me.

She was an easy-going person who seldom complained. When she did complain, I knew that she had a severe problem that needed immediate attention. I regret not being able to solve all her problems. Some were beyond my control, such as those connected with the church school. However, others were not; these I failed too frequently to solve.

Deb needed a good deal of stroking and encouragement. Regrettably, I was never good at that.

However, I always tried to encourage her with her art. I knew how important art was to her. Every art show that she had after we married, I was there with her. She liked that. Moreover, I never complained about her buying art supplies.

At times, I had to persuade her to buy things for herself. She was a very frugal woman. I would have bought more for her if she had asked. She seemed always to place the welfare of her family above herself.

Most of the time she seemed to place me above herself. As a result, I tried to place her before myself. Perhaps that is a major reason that we were so happy together and enjoyed each other’s company so much. Both of us strove to place the other first. We did not always achieve that goal, but we worked at achieving it.

Before we married, Deb and I decided that she would stay at home and rear the children. Although we did without some things, that was one of the best decisions that we ever made. It made our family stronger and made us closer to the children. Because it forced us to be dependent on each other, we bonded much more. I became more responsible because I had to take care of her and the children. She graciously reciprocated by fulfilling my needs as only she could. We grew closer and closer to each other.

Since that Deb has left me, all that I can now do is write about the most remarkable woman that I have ever known. She is at least as remarkable as her Biblical namesake, Deborah. I love you Deb and always will. My love for you can never die.

(As I go through Deb’s papers, I realize that I did not appreciate her enough, that I did not support her enough, that I did not do enough for her, and that I did not give her enough. So far I have not found anything that she has written about me. However, I am finding the dreams and fantasies about which she wrote. Some of her dreams, she achieved, and some she did not. I wish that I had helped her achieve more of her dreams. She certainly helped me achieve many of mine — most of which would never have been achieved without her.)

Copyright © 2011 by Thomas Coley Allen.

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