Yesterday, I celebrated the 67th anniversary of my birth. I am still stuck in my chair, convalescing from a broken ankle, hopping with the aid of a walker to the bathroom, to my chair, and to bed. Ruthie bemoaned that I had a “suckie birthday”. The truth be told, it was a wonderful day.
I had the opportunity to edit a collection of poems I composed in 2011 about when I began to court Ruth up through the first year of our marriage. I spent the whole day with Ruthie, who is a birthday present to me everyday. She went out and got me a burger from the Fishtale Bar and Grill (the best place for hamburgers in New Prague). While she was waiting for the food to take home, she sat in the bar, and Wendy, aka Sugar Momma Bakery, was waiting on her making Ruthie Long Island Ice Teas. When Ruthie told Wendy it was my birthday, Wendy gave her two wonderful cupcakes she had baked. So I had a wonderful hamburger, a wonderful cupcake, a brandy manhattan, a salad for my birthday supper. I told Ruthie, that I had a splendid day. I think I expressed this best on a poem I wrote to Ruthie on the occasion of my 61st birthday.
TO RUTHIE, ON MY 61ST BIRTHDAY
The waning of long awaited days,
time off from long toil
culminating on this day,
my birth anniversary,
my last full day
with you for a while.
Long have you been
the beginning and end
of a dream that began
when first I saw you,
the first day of days
in that high school
nestled along Rice Street.
In you, my beloved,
have I entrusted my love,
my faithfulness, enclosed
within my heart of flesh,
given to you to nourish,
to protect with that of your own,
our hearts as one have grown.
With what could you present me
that would add
to that already given?
No embellishment could you bestow
the increase of happiness
within me flow. Just you,
as when first you bade
me sit down beside you,
that first day of days,
ever will I need.
You, the beginning and end
of my every dream.
© 2013, Robert Charles Wagner. All rights reserved.
The picture above is the one of mom taking me home from the hospital after my birth. Because of the RH factor (something Mary Ruth and I did share), I needed a blood transfusion as a new born infant. I finally came home from the hospital about 6 weeks after I was born. Mom, Dad, and Bill lived in a third floor apartment on South Shore Drive, Chicago. I remember that apartment distinctly, especially the wooden porches/decks on the back of the apartments and the wooden steps leading up to those porches and decks. My earliest memory is that of an infant, on that day coming home from the hospital and being passed around to our neighbors who gathered in Harold Burress’s apartment on the second floor. Harold, I very nice man, smoked and liked beer. He had that smell of a smoky bar on a hot, humid day, stale cigarette smoke mixed in with the smell of stale beer. I remember being passed to Harold and making a fuss because I did not want to be around that smelly, old man. I was soon passed back to the safe arms of my mom.
Often times, with my birthday falling on August 12th, my family and I were on our annual vacation to visit family in Pittsburgh. Or, as the picture shows, we would go to a resort for several days. I remember celebrating my birthday in Washington D.C. when we were visiting our cousins who lived in Virginia. It was extremely hot and humid. the Walt Disney show had a program about Johnny Tremain, a revolutionary war tale. I wanted a tri-corner hat like that which the revolutionary army wore. I called it a Johnny Tremain hat. When we visited Williamsburg, that had many actors and shops that resembled Colonial Williamsburg, I got as a present my “Johnny tremain” hat. I was so happy getting that hat. I almost lost it when I stuck my head out the window as we traveled down the highway and it blew off my head. Dad stopped backed up and got it for me (this was when most highways were two lane highways prior to the advent of the freeway). When we got back to Downers Grove, I didn’t wear it too much though. Not many kids in Illinois were wearing Johnny Tremain hats.
The other memory this picture evokes is when mom made me a rubber cake. She was busy putting together the ingredients of the cake, when she was interrupted by something, and when she returned to finish the cake she forgot one ingredient. the consistency of the cake was like that of rubber. You could chew but it was hard to swallow it. We ended up throwing it in the trash. From that point on, mom made us birthday pies.
One last memory. During this time, Catholics always abstained from meat on Fridays. I hated having my birthday falling on a Friday. We often had fishsticks on Fridays to eat. Gad! No amount of tartar sauce makes a fishstick taste good (It is any wonder many Midwesterners hate fish). In true Wimpy fashion, I always wanted a hamburger on my birthday. We would often then postpone Friday birthdays to Saturdays when we wouldn’t have to eat crap on our birthdays.
As many of you know, in the summer of 2011 I had a left hip replacement that developed MRSA. the infection did not go away. In fact, because of the incompetence of a infectious disease doctor at Fairview Southdale, I almost died from an allergic reaction to vankamycin (he refused to believe I was allergic to the antibiotic) on August 10th, the same date my sister died on. After 2 days in ICU (including the 10th), I went into surgery on my birthday to have my artificial hip replaced. I would not get another hip until late January 2012. When I got out of surgery, hanging on the bar over my bed was this windchime. It was a present from Ruthie. There are a lot of butterflies in the windchime, a symbol of hope and resurrection. She knew the perfect gift to give me on one of the most hard days in my life. We still have that windchime hanging in our kitchen.
I have composed much music as gifts for other people. I have only reserved one of the songs for myself. It is one of my earliest piano compositions. As an aspiring pianist/composer, the German composer Hindemith had a great influence on me. One of my favorite Hindemith compositions was from his piano collection, Ludas Tonalis. Unlike many contemporary composers, Hindemith’s music was not quite as atonal (dissonant sounding) than some of his contemporaries e.g. Arnold Schoenberg (who composed much “serial” or 12-tone music). Hindemith experimented with tonality, but like the composer, Bela Bartok, created very interesting sounding music. The song I composed for myself, evokes the tonality of Hindemith and his Ludas Tonalis.
God has blessed me with 67 years. I have been so fortunate and blessed in so many ways. The greatest blessing in my life has been Ruth, our kids, and our grandchildren. I have had the great opportunity to perform music professionally for 42 years. I have had the opportunity to created and compose music I truly love, and consider a part of me as “children of mine”. I have studied and advanced educationally, having the opportunity to receive a MA in Pastoral Studies. I have had the opportunity to be ordained a deacon, and serve with and to very diverse communities. I have been an educator. I have had the opportunity to become a spiritual director. My life, in spite of some health difficulties, has been very extraordinary and fulfilled. The last couple of years, with the deaths of some very significant people, and Ruth’s injuries, and now mine, have been challenging. But, like many people, Ruthie and I are not immune from these events. God continues to accompany me and guide me through the tough parts and the joyful parts.
I don’t know how many years still lie ahead for me, which is fine with me. But I am grateful for the life that my mom and dad gave to me, and with Ruthie, has evolved. On my 67th birthday, I know that I have been very wonderfully and greatly blessed.
