My wife Robin and I were in our fifth year of life in the Tampa, Florida area. The company I worked for transferred me there in 2001 and as I recall I was told it was a strategic move designed to better utilize my talents. I had spent most of my adult life as an investigator and after years of training in the art of deceptive behavior, I knew a lie when I heard one. However, I was given a significant pay increase, all moving expenses were paid, and lastly, I was not ready to retire. So, Robin and I moved.
Robin and I spent five years in Tampa, and I believe she liked it there much more than I did. I never felt like it was home, maybe more like a long vacation. I will now say that our time there passed very quickly. Then several events far from our control occurred and we decided it was time for a change.
Events elsewhere told me it was time to retire and leave our Florida home. The timing was perfect, and Verizon made me an offer that I couldn’t refuse, so after a very brief conversation with Robin, we both agreed that it was time to return to Missouri.
Our house sold in a matter of days, and I think Robin was as anxious as I was to leave Florida. We contracted with a moving company who would transport our larger possessions to our new home and we loaded everything else into two cars.
I remember that before leaving our home in Tampa we bought one of those Garmin route guidance things. It really came in handy and helped us find our way. After all these years, I believe that coming to Noel was the right decision. However, I find that I am still trying to find my way.
We traveled separately, each driving a car, but we talked to each other often as I, the driver with the navigation tool, gave her directions. By design, our travel plans included an overnight stay in Memphis, Tennessee.
When we pulled onto the Memphis motel’s parking lot, I recall thinking that we were just a day’s drive away from our new life, our life in Noel. We settled into our room, then Robin said she wanted to walk along Beal Street and see the sights. I, finding no harm in that, agreed. Although there was a lot to take in, we talked mostly about Noel and how wonderful our lives would be there. Robin was excited about the future and the remaining years of our lives together.
Asking a local merchant about the best place to eat brought a resounding, “The Rendezvous.” The only caveat given was the location of the restaurant’s entrance. We were told one entered the dining establishment through a door located in an alley. The nice lady said that added to the ambiance.
As we enjoyed the barbecue cuisine Robin said something that I thought was very odd. It was obvious that she had given the matter some thought so I gave her my full attention. “I would like a yellow house with a red roof. I’ve always wanted a yellow house.” Now, I hadn’t given that much thought to the color scheme of the house that we would have built but I thought, why not? “Sure,” I said, “we can do that if that’s what you want.”
We ended our trip to the Noel area in August of 2006 and soon thereafter found a fellow who seemed qualified to build our new house. Robin and I met with him, provided the blueprints for the house and Robin made sure he was aware of two important features. The house must have yellow siding and a red roof. I remember that the builder, Joe Cook wrote down her words.
Now that the matter of the house was settled there was something we had to do, something far more important and something that would not wait. Robin and I needed to go to St. Louis. Our son, David was ill and the cancer that was consuming his body would soon kill him.
Ground was broken for the new house, but we weren’t there to see it. We were in St. Louis. We stayed there for seven weeks and talked to David as the cancer progressed. I listened as he talked of childhood memories and things not yet done or seen. He died in his sleep one cool and quiet night.
For six years Robin and I lived a quiet and happy life in Noel. That is before we were given bad news. What was considered to be a routine doctor’s visit became something quite terrible. We were told that she had stage four lung cancer. I now tell you that she fought the illness with every ounce of her strength but in the end, the cancer once again won. My wife of 46 years died in 2013.
I have lived alone since Robin’s passing and from time to time thoughts of leaving Noel and the lingering memories of the lost loved ones behind me cross my mind, but those considerations are always short-lived. I suppose the reality of what was and my inability to change those things makes me stop and accept my life in Noel. This place didn’t turn out to be the paradise Robin and I thought it would be, but I will, at least for now, continue to call this place home.
Looking back at it, I suppose our expectations for our life in Noel were far too grandiose. We wanted peace, happiness, and love and we wanted to enjoy a long life together.
As I sit on my favorite spot on the couch and gaze out the window of my house in Noel, I must now admit that the expectations Robin and I once had of our lives in the Ozark city of my grandparents and father were more in the realm of fantasy rather than realism.
What have I learned?” I have seen just how dark and black the lonely night sky can be. I have discovered how long a rainy day can last. But I have learned to adapt to the unexpected obstacles that life placed in my path.
Noel is a quiet place and that’s good. The silence gives me plenty of time to think, think about all that came before my journey here. Occasionally I hear from David’s wife, and I can see his face as we talk. I still live in the house that Robin once lived in and yes, it’s still yellow although some years back ice fell from a cloudy sky and compelled me to get a new roof. I know she would understand the reasons for the brown shingles.
What is this story really about? It is a story about unrealistic expectations, disappointment, and learning to live, finding a way to carry on after everything you thought you were living for is taken away.
I guess there really are no Elysian fields.
Midwest Musings 