Saline, Michigan
Monday, July 12, 2010
Hi Everyone,
Today is a very hot and sticky Michigan July day. Saline streets are empty of pedestrians, people preferring the cooling buzz of their air conditioning to the buzz of the mosquitoes that are swarming around me like a squadron of Red Baron biplanes. But I'm on a mission and nothing the enemy can throw at me will break my will. Today is Susan and my 18th wedding anniversary and I am here at Weller's Carriage House to honor the occasion. The number 18 means life in Cabalistic numerology, and we had planned to make this day a special celebration. So here I am in front of the hall where we celebrated our marriage and lit the candle of family surrounded by a ring of our children. Susan wore a floral wreath on her head. It's been preserved in a cardboard box, but I'm afraid its badly deteriorated condition prevents it from ever being used again. Along with a container of Susan's ashes, it will be released into the Saline River that flows through Weller's ample and peaceful grounds. If all goes well, the wreath will float the length of the Saline River, flowing into the River Raisin before reaching Lake Erie near Monroe, Michigan. At least that's my fantasy. We shall see.
The rear of the carriage house is a vast expanse of fine green lawn dotted by majestic shade trees. Our wedding ceremony was conducted on the lawn under a conveniently erected tent, most fortunate, because in the middle of the ceremony a sudden cloudburst attempted to drown the proceedings. Our guests remained dry, but in accordance with Jewish tradition, Susan and I stood outside the tent under the open sky. What's that they say about your wedding being rained on? But what is this? Where is that fine green grassy plain? I don't remember all these brick walkways, marble statues, alabaster fountains, cement benches, flower gardens, wooden gazeboes, and a massive arched pavilion lined with padded chairs. I don't recognize anything. Have I wondered back into the 18th century? Is King Louie XIV waiting by the miniature waterfall just around the corner? The palace at Versailles has been reproduced in miniature right where our peaceful pasture used to be. Where once there was this simple genuine serene beauty there is now a vast hodge-podge of photo op backdrops. Mosquito Kamikazes are maneuvering through these overblown structures to shield their attack. A black cloud of the enemy suddenly appears from behind a frolicking group of marble cherubs. I run towards the refuge of the river.
The river is just as I remember it, wild and free. I maneuver down the overgrown river bank and get ready to release the ashes. No time for meditation, the mosquito spotters are circling just overhead. Susan's ash flows smoothly into the swiftly flowing water, creating a silky cloud under the surface and joining in its irresistible flow. Now for the floral wreath. Gripping the wreath like a Frisbee I launch it into the river. The moment it strikes the water's surface, a rock, the size of a human head, rises up from the watery depths and crowns itself with the wreath. I kid you not. The rock was not there when I released the wreath. It is a river spirit, revealing itself so it can be coroneted the queen of Sarita's flowing domain. And as the watery ash cloud mingles with the newly crowned queen of the river, the sun breaks through the clouds, spotlighting the aqua drama and chasing away the bloodsucking armies. Now, relaxing for the first time since my arrival here, I contemplate the miracles before me.
May your day be filled with the flow of limitless love and the miracles of unbounded light,
Stan
