Tag Archives: Kathy Anne

local news

Time is like a rocket

NUREMBERG, Germany — The past two weeks have flown by like a rocket shot into space.

But yet they have arguably among the best two weeks I’ve ever spent. I spent them in Bavaria, in southern Germany.

My vacation came from an invitation delivered by friends who thought when they extended it that I needed some time away from the house in Texas to clear my head. They were right. What they — or I — didn’t anticipate is the emotional distance I have traveled since losing my bride Kathy Anne to cancer.

Even though the time I spent with Martin, Alena and their three precious children was time well-spent, it wasn’t as urgent as it was when the invitation came my way.

However, my two-week stay in Germany is about to come to a conclusion. I will leave here fulfilled and enriched by their friendship, their hospitality and their love.

I am going home to a new life that is still under construction, but it is taking on a definite form. My friends all tell me they see a difference in me these days. Indeed, I am able to say I am ‘good,” which I couldn’t bring myself to say in the immediate aftermath of our loss.

That was then. And now? I awake each morning looking forward to the days that lie ahead.

I needed the time away to reconnect with these dear friends. They promised to shower me with love. They truly delivered the goods. It is time to go home.

International news

Journey nears its end

NUREMBERG, Germany — My journey to Europe is nearing its conclusion. Very soon, I will be boarding a jet bound for home.

To be honest, I didn’t realize how much I needed the time away until after I arrived. What spurred the realization? Likely it was my friends who greeted me outside of baggage claim at Nuremberg’s international airport.

I have known Martin for 14 years; his wife Alena for about eight. I brought my bride, Kathy Anne, to Germany in 2016 to meet them both for the first time. In 2016, our friends had two sons and Alena was pregnant with their daughter during that visit.

They said something profound to me almost immediately upon my arrival. It was that I should not think of myself as a “guest” in their home, but as a “member of the family.” That was their way of telling me that anything I wanted or needed was mine for the taking inside their home.

They live in a peaceful village outside of Nuremberg. Weitersdorf is among many such villages scattered across this lovely landscape. I have gone without TV, very little “talk radio,” and the only newspaper I have read is the international edition of the New York Times; I don’t read German … you know?

We have talked American politics from time to time during my visit with them. We even have discussed German politics, too. Martin isn’t quite sure about the description I attached to former Chancellor Angela Merkel, whom I described as the “real leader of the Free World” during her time in public office.

I have informed them both that I am crafting a new life at home. My days are filling up with activity. I have made many new friends, one of whom stands out; there likely will be more to say about that relationship later.

My time away from the humdrum of North Texas, though, was time well-spent. Soon it’ll be back to the grind, which I am still seeking to define. I will be ready for whatever awaits.

International news

So proud, but then again …

NUREMBERG, Germany — My journey abroad is beginning to commence to come to an end. I only have a couple more nights in Bavaria before I board a jet for home.

I want to stipulate two critical points.

One is that I am a true-blue American patriot who served his country in war, who pays his taxes without bitching about it and who salutes the flag whenever it flies in front of me.

I also know my country if far from perfect and my aim always in criticizing public policy decisions is to get policymakers to do better.

The other critical point is that whenever I travel to non-English-speaking places around the world, I am a bit self-conscious over my inability to communicate in their language, forcing them to do so in mine. I get that English is the international language of commerce and transportation. But still …

My trip to Germany has been eventful and full of new experiences. I came back to Nuremberg to catch up with two dear friends, a husband and wife who greeted my bride and me in 2016 when we came here the first time. Kathy Anne is gone now and my return was tinged just a bit with sadness. As I told my friends, though, I am moving on with my life just as my wife insisted I do. They get it.

I have seen once more how Europeans have developed rail travel almost to an art form. I have learned how they have crafted a sustainable energy policy that relies almost exclusively on renewable sources of energy. I also have learned how Germans encourage young people to serve their country in a voluntary public service capacity before embarking on their own careers. And … I have learned that higher education in Germany is free.

We don’t do everything perfectly in the country of my birth. A globalist view of our national development seemingly would require us to examine how other nations in our shrinking world handle their everyday affairs. Why not, then, take a peek?

My trip abroad is nearing its end. I will take back many more cherished memories of my time here … and also with fuel for thought that all of us at least should consider.

International news

The hunt continues

NUREMBERG, Germany — Very soon, my friend and I are going to head toward the Czech Republic border in search for the perfect Greek pastry.

It will have to be perfect, although it will be difficult to ascertain whether it reaches the level of perfection set by my late bride, Kathy Anne.

Here’s the story in brief.

Kathy Anne and I were married in 1971 and she joined my family that included my surviving grandmother … whom we called “Yiayia.” My grandmother made a particular Greek dessert that Kathy Anne swore melted in her mouth. It is called kourabiedes; it is a cookie covered in powdered sugar.

Kathy Anne and I traveled twice together to Greece. We tried to find a cookie that matched Yiayia’s creation. “Not even close,” Kathy Anne would say.

My pal Martin tells me this particular bakery in the Czech Republic makes some delectable desserts. We shall find out if they measure up to the greatness that came from Yiayia’s kitchen.

My trick knee tells me Kathy Anne would remain unimpressed.

local news, media news

932 days … and counting

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This isn’t a boastful post, but it is one that calls attention to a streak I’ve enjoyed for a very long time.

For 932 consecutive days I have posted something on High Plains Blogger that might be of some interest to someone out there.

High Plains Blogger is taking a lengthy airplane right Tuesday morning, which might — perhaps, maybe — put that streak in some jeopardy. I will work to ensure it remains intact.

I am going to Nuremberg, Germany for two weeks. I will be visiting dear friends who invited me back there when they got word of my bride’s passing way. I’m taking them up on their generous hospitality.

My hope is that we don’t get too gabby and I forget to post something within a particular calendar day.

The gentleman who is hosting me is a journalist, so he knows about my deadline pressure. His wife works for the government, so she knows, too. They are wonderful friends and are the parents of three fabulous children, who have grown significantly — of course — since the previous time I was there in 2016 with Kathy Anne.

I do know this: my bride would insist I keep the streak alive.

So … I will.

local news, media news

Memoir work ramps up

Because I have been making command decisions left and right, here’s another one for you to ponder.

I have decided to recommit to finishing a piece of work I’ve been toiling over for many years, a memoir I am writing for my family.

The memoir was my beloved bride’s idea. Kathy Anne told me I needed to memorialize the people and events in my career and give the finished product to our sons and their families. I began work on it some time back.

This week I added two more entries noting two individuals I whose paths I crossed while working as a print journalist for nearly 37 years. Then this morning, I took another step toward organizing my work.

I looked at the list of people and events I had penciled in and noted all those I had entered into my draft memoir. I counted those entries and learned that, by golly, I am about two-thirds of the way through my list.

Then again, more names pop into my noggin, usually without warning. So, I will add them, too, to the lengthy list of famous and infamous individuals I have been blessed or cursed to meet along the way.

Some of my friends have asked me if I intend to publish it. Hmm. I have thought about it and to be honest, I haven’t yet decided. There well could be enough text to fill a small paperback if I choose to go that route.

I had a joyous ride pursuing my craft. When Kathy Anne made the pitch to write it all down, I didn’t need persuading. I thought, “You know, I have met some fascinating individuals and the circumstances of those encounters themselves are worth remembering.”

I’m not entirely sure why I am sharing this with you. Maybe it’s my way of revealing how I plan to spend my time re-crafting my life into something entirely brand new.

I do want to share the ups and maybe even some of the downs I encountered while doing something I truly loved doing.

Wish me well …. please.

local news

A bitter date awaits

My bride and I celebrated April 1 in an odd fashion: we commemorated the birth of our puppy, Toby on that day.

He joined our family in early September 2014. We took him to the doctor to get him vaccinated, neutered … all the stuff pet parents do. The vet looked him over and calculated him to be five months of age. We backed it up five months and learned he was born in early April.

Thus, April Fool’s Day became Toby the Puppy’s birthday.

On Monday, he would be 10 years old. Except that he is no longer with us. He passed away from cancer on Dec. 1.

I had struggled mightily to keep him longer. His 12-pound body couldn’t keep up the fight. His demise ended the worst year of my life, adding a poignant symmetry to a year that began with the loss of my wife on Feb. 3, 2023, and ended with Toby’s passing away on Dec. 1.

I still struggle with Toby’s passing. I well up when I see couples walking their own dogs down my street in Princeton, Texas. I told a dear friend today that I get “jealous,” but she responded that it isn’t jealousy I am feeling, but that “You’re just missing your puppy.” I accept that definition of what happens to me.

It will take some time get over my loss of this critter who turned into the best friend and companion I ever could have imagined. We fell in love with him almost the moment we laid eyes on him in September 2014; he felt the same thing toward us, too. We took him on RV trips to all corners of this country and through the western half of Canada. Was he a road warrior? Damn right!

He made us laugh every single day he lived in our home. That is not an exaggeration! Every single day we giggled at something he did.

I wanted to get this posted today, because I’ll be on the road Monday returning from a brief visit to Amarillo … where our journey as dog parents began.

I will miss him forever … and then some.

local news

900 in a row … and counting!

I am not prone generally to bragging about myself on this blog of mine, but I have to offer this tidbit for you to ponder.

Today marks the 900th consecutive day in which I have posted musings on this and/or that topic on High Plains Blogger.

Some friends of mine tell me they marvel at my prolific volume of commentary. I respond only with a simple “thank you” and this caveat: It’s what I do.

This blog has kept my mind alert and in the past year it has helped carry me through some intense emotional pain brought about with the loss of Kathy Anne, my beloved bride, to cancer.

I don’t file generally as many blog posts daily as I once did. I admit to slowing down a bit on that aspect of my productivity. However, every day brings a new challenge for me, offering me a chance to comment on news of the day … or just on life as I am now living it.

Stay with me, dear reader. There’s more on the way.

local news

Dreaded task … done!

This post is aimed at anyone who has lost a loved one — namely a spouse — after spending decades melding your life with him or her.

As many of you know, I lost my dear bride to cancer a little more than a year ago. Kathy Anne received a glioblastoma diagnosis and six weeks later she was gone. Her oncologist called it the “most aggressive brain cancer I have seen in all my years practicing medicine.”

But then came my emotional journey on which I embarked. Today, a major part of that journey ended for me. After agonizing since the worst day of life, I finally gathered up Kathy Anne’s clothes and delivered them to a shelter for women who need them.

I had been told there are many ways to approach this task. One friend of mine told me she donated her late husband’s clothes two weeks after she lost him. One of my dearest friends on Earth hired someone to empty his late wife’s closet after she passed from cancer about four years ago. Others have waited even longer than I did, while others have completed the task quickly.

I chose to wait. It was too large a leap to make. We had shared a home for 51 years. We became like one. Kathy Anne had been the embodiment of good health … until she wasn’t.

My journey has been a long one, to be sure. I have cleared many emotional hurdles. My friends have told me I have made great strides. My family has been strong, too. My sons, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter have endured the pain of losing the pillar of our family. Their strength has sustained me.

Today, I am happy to report, is a good day. I believe I have cleared the final hurdle on my journey through the darkness.

The gentleman who received the clothing spoke the truth beautifully to me this morning. “Your wife would want us to put these items to good use,” he said, “and we will.”

local news

The mustache stays … period!

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This post is for those I haven’t known since The Flood. It is for relatively recent acquaintances and friends, some of whom ask me this question at this time of year:

Is the mustache coming off, too, along with the rest of your facial hair? Answer: nope; not even.

The mustache has been part of my face since 1970. Except for a brief period in 1980 when I decided to shave it off. Big mistake.

I started growing it as I was preparing to exit the Army. I had returned from Vietnam and was stationed at Fort Lewis, Wash., just up the highway from my Portland, Ore., hometown.

It was July 1970. I was a month from shucking the uniform forever and returning to civilian life. I grew the mustache. I liked it. It quickly became part of me.

Then a decade later, I decided to shave it off. I had two small boys at home with me. I came out of the bathroom and presented my clean-shaven face to my family. My bride, Kathy Anne, approved. The boys? They couldn’t stop laughing.

They were six and five. They had never seen Dad without facial hair. For that matter, neither had Kathy Anne … but she was cool with the “new” me.

My sons’ laughter never let up. After less than a week of it, I surrendered. The stubble returned. Soon it blossomed into a full-grown mustache. It has stayed.

The beard comes and goes. I usually shave it off every spring. This year it came off about a month early. Which is OK. Kathy Anne preferred I keep it year-round. We would “fight” good naturedly when the time came to shave it off. I no longer have to wage that fake fight. So, it came off.

But come this autumn, the beard will return as it does every year.

I just wanted to share this bit of useless info. You are now free to pursue more important matters.