CHAPTER NINE

MY HARDEST YEARS

Christopher and Martina moved to the States in the Seventies to help develop Anthroposophy and its sister organizations of Waldorf education and Biodynamic farming. They bought several farms in the East Troy area of South East Wisconsin and funded Michael Fields Agricultural Institute, a research and teaching institution for organic and Biodynamic farming. They were reorganizing their farms as there had been no cows on the land for the last few years and they felt that the fertility was going down. They asked me to lease their dairy and we came to an agreement that I would lease the land and they would put up a set of new buildings. I was then able to build my dream facility. We built a milking parlor, a double-sixteen swing parlor that was very efficient and could milk up to a hundred cows an hour. There was an enjoining office and space for a classroom. The cows were housed in a big loafing shed, where they could run loose on a pack of manure and clean straw. This method produces lots of compost and is very easy on the cows. The facilities were excellent and I was very appreciative. . I found a herd of certified organic cows close by and we were milking cows by April. I ran the farm business as my own so I owned the cows and machinery and had to take out loans for about one hundred and forty thousand dollars, which should have been quite doable. I was very excited to be running my own farm again and hardly had time to miss Joan, who was able to come out at the beginning of July.
Transitions were always difficult for Joan and although she was not happy, I didn’t think too much of it. She was going to start teaching first grade at the nearby Waldorf School and I reckoned she would make good new friends, as she always did. However, once she got to East Troy, she would wake up in the mornings crying and not feeling that this was her place at all. She was always brave and she carried on making the house and garden into her new home and preparing for the school year.
The day came for Dave to start college at George Washington University in DC. And I was flying to DC with Dave to get him oriented, so we had to drive two hours down to O’Hare airport. Joan had to go to her first faculty meeting so we all left about the same time, with Eve still in the farmhouse. When I got to O’Hare, they were paging me, which surprised me as I had our tickets and everything else in order. I left Dave in the check-in line and found the police office, where they informed me that Joan had just died in a car accident but had no details. I had to go back to the line and tell David that we were leaving the airport, as his mother had just died. That was a terrible, long drive, just Dave and me, not knowing anything. Eve was waiting in the house with no company, since nobody else knew, and, when we arrived back home, I had to call for help and tell people. The community really rallied around and helped as best they could. Friends and family came from great distances.. My sister flew in from New Zealand, her daughter came from Japan and my brother Johannes and his wife came from Ireland. Joan’s brother came from Long Island and her parents from Florida. It was especially hard to see her father’s grief, his only daughter gone. Old friends from Kimberton and Ithaca arrived and we were joined by many new friends from East Troy. Especially helpful was that the Christian Community priest who had accompanied Joan and me in our life, who had married us and christened Eve and Dave, now lived close by and he took care of all the funeral arrangements. I remember he took me to the funeral home that afternoon so we could arrange for Joan to be taken home rather than to stay in the funeral home. I wasn’t allowed to see her as she was too badly hurt. She had run a stop sign, not even slowing down, and been hit side on. She was hit so hard that her watch stopped and she was knocked out of her shoes. During the three days before the funeral, we were all sustained by the outpouring of love of family and friends and it was a vibrant celebration of her life. During the day, people would visit and we often had music and the evenings would be more intimate, when family or close friends would share stories of her life. After the funeral, people left and there was a depth of loneliness that at times was unbearable to me. Eve and Dave decided that it would be best to continue with college. Dave and I again went back to O’Hara and flew to DC and got him settled into college. A week later, Eve left to do her four-month study abroad in Africa. Luckily my sister stayed on for a month and helped me through some of the worst part. When my father died, a few years previously, I had been at his side and had experienced his “being” or soul leaving and expanding into the universe. This had been very special but unfortunately, with Joan there was nothing similar to give me solace. She was gone and I could not feel her presence. After a while, the emptiness would not be so constant but the grief would hit me hard at unexpected times. It would usually come at times of beauty. Seeing a flock of birds changing directions in mid-flight or the wind blowing through a field of wheat would leave me in tears and desolate. About two months after Joan died, a friend passed away and I went to the funeral. She had died of cancer, so she had a long time to prepare. She and her friends had written the funeral service and she had felt that after she died, she would be experienced in the wind, in the sunset and other aspects of life. I left the service furious and shaken to the bone because for me, there was nowhere to go to experience Joan. Working during the day was ok, as I had to keep the farm going and there were things to keep my mind and body busy. Much harder were the nights. When I closed the door to the milk house in the evening, I dreaded going into the house. I would sit on the steps and be with the cats and dogs for as long as possible before going in to make supper. Often at night, I would lie on the floor, light a candle and listen to Handle’s Messiah. This music let me experience death and then resurrection and helped my healing process more than anything else. Saturday nights were especially hard, sitting by myself watching TV. I am not the type of person who likes to sit around talking with a group of people. I prefer one on one conversation, so I would often feel very lonely, even within a group setting. I knew that Joan wouldn’t be happy watching me feel sorry for myself, so I decided to take the plunge and invite a woman out to dinner. I knew one of the of the Waldorf school teachers who was single and so I checked out with a mutual friend whether she would be open to going to dinner. Happily she was. I hadn’t dated for twenty-five years but I reckoned we could talk about teaching and she had lived in New Zealand. We did have a good conversation and became friends and later she moved in. After one of the first times that she had supper at my house and had to leave, my whole body went into a panic. The thought of her leaving left me in tears and I realized I had an irrational fear that I would never see her again. Celia helped me get through those lonely months, although I know local people were upset that I found a new partner so soon. We were together for two years helping each other getting through some hard times. She was twenty years younger than me, so I realized I didn’t need another daughter and likewise she realized she didn’t need a father figure. When the time was right, she moved to Oregon and soon found the man she was to marry.
At the time of Joan’s death, a friend had given me a moth chrysalis and mentioned that it might hatch in six months. I left it in my bedroom and didn’t think about it. One night I walked up the stairs and into my bedroom where I saw this beautiful huge moth sitting in the middle of my pillow. For me it was a gift from Joan that meant that although I could not experience her at that time, in the future we would again have a relationship that would transform into something new and beautiful. Eight years later, I was at a workshop run by Kimberly Herkert co-founder of Way of the Heart and one of the sessions was on forgiveness. Joan came into my mind and I became really upset at her for leaving me, holding the bag, when I had felt we’d had a lifelong agreement to support each other. Of course this feeling was irrational and I didn’t even know that I carried it, but I could not forgive her at that moment. At the end of the session, we went round the group, each person briefly telling of their experience. I was nearly in tears, and it was hard to speak and talk about my feelings. Kimberly looked at me and told me that I had just forgiven Joan. T hat evening I went to the beach and did indeed feel like a weight had been lifted off me. Since then, I have again felt closer and more at ease with Joan.