View From a Prairie Home

by Hege Hernfindahl, Columnist

It is summer. The season of sun and calm winds. Of sudden, often violent storms. Of flowers and grass so green it pops. Everything is beautiful because of all the rain interspersed with sun.

It is morning and as usual, I go outside. This time, I wear no shoes, I want to feel the soft grass. I walk on a small path I made with bricks towards the gazebo and feel the smooth surface on the soles of my feet. By the gazebo, we have a small pond with a fountain to make the gurgling sound I like so well. I sit down on the bench we have here and I listen to the fountain and the many birds that live in our little grove. The hollyhocks nod their heads at me emitting a sweet smell that reminds me of a time when my dearest friend would come to visit. We would sit by the pond, either inside the gazebo to get away from the bugs or on this bench and we would talk.

The comfort of those chats! Two souls communicating freely. She would listen to me and I knew I never had to pretend, because she loved me for who I was. And it wasn’t hard to love her back, for she was kind and generous and always saw the best in people. There were 22 years between us, but it never mattered. People thought she was a mother substitute for me, but my mother was so different from her, I never thought of her as my mother. I thought of her as a friend I could always call or come to and I would always be welcome.

I had just gone to a funeral for one of my other friends, when I got a text from her daughter that she had died. I knew she was near death. I had plans to go and see her, to say goodbye, but I was too late. She lived by her daughter’s in an assisted living facility a three hour drive away.

I know about grief. If you live to be as old as I am, you will too. And after my mother died, a neighbor and friend suggested I make a memorial garden. Recently I saw a heart-shaped stone with the inscription: “When someone you love is in heaven, you have a piece of heaven in your heart.”  I put it in the memorial garden where there is another bench for sitting and remembering. There are hollyhocks here too and numerous other flowers. I have put a small angel here and wind chimes, which today chime gently as I think of all the memories I have with Marianne.

We met through politics in the ‘70s and even hosted a hospitality room together during a DFL convention in Duluth. We also both loved nature and went for walks together. Our favorite place for walks was Glacial Lake State Park. There is a balcony there over the lake which was our favorite picnic spot. Once, when a mutual friend had cancer, we brought her to this spot and fed her her favorite food. One time I took her on a long and somewhat strenuous walk up on the beautiful rolling prairie in Glacial Lakes. Marianne was probably in her 70s then and she said: “what would you do if I died now.” And I told her that if that happened I would hold her and know she was in heaven.

After Erland had graduated from high school and left with his class for France, she found me crying while cleaning up after the previous day’s graduation party. She told me to dry my tears and go out with her for lunch. That summer, we explored West Central Minnesota’s restaurants and went every week to a new place. And for my birthday that year, she had made me a book called “Come sit with me in the garden, my friend and I will tell you about all the wonderful memories we have made.” So, I sit now, with a heart once again broken because I loved her so deeply. And I love her still, my sweet, precious Marianne. We certainly made many happy memories together and since she now is in heaven, I have a piece of heaven in my heart.