January 23, 1943 to July 29, 2024
“Well, I knew it was coming and I did my best to get out of it, but once again, it didn’t quite go my way. Toughest thing I’ve ever done, taking a slow 5 years to meet my impending transition. But listen, “when I leave this mortal shore, and mosey round the earth no more, please do not whine, nor mourn, nor sob, I may have struck a better job.”
Job? What was my job really? As the eldest child of the Haar trio I took that job seriously. Margaret and Gerald Haar (mom and dad) at the helm of this group. Sister Lynette fell in love with Jim Keiser and off she went adding three branches to the tree. Vince, Leslie, and Brandon. Mark, the youngest, married his sweetheart Nancy adding two more branches, Jeff and Jay. My two kids, Eric and Lida, sure rode along for my many “jobs”. I took in the boys, Yeah, Mark’s boys. Nancy had a journey to take, and the boys moved into the Campbell house. Four kids sharing, loving and playing large. I loved them like my own. That was my job.
Oh, but I was busy. March 24, 1974, I brought together 25 people after months of prep to Charter Pemberville’s First Historical Society. The Opera House was on the agenda and acquisition of the Fury House was in the works with my friend Zella. We did it. The kids in tow digging in the dirt finding clay pipes and other artifacts. The library had used the Opera House as storage. The first fundraiser. Come on kids, help haul those books. We’re having a sale. I mentioned that tree above.
Another job I held dear was from whence I came. Genealogy. 1620 though Hingham Massachusetts on a rickety ship my 7th great grandfather had a mission, platted a town and built the Old Ship Church. I was proud of those people and had to know all I could. What fun to learn their story. The DAR membership meant the world to me. Those people built our nation and when I looked in the mirror, I had their eyes. Mr. Campbell and I parted ways. Not the best decision I ever made.
The job changed again. James Hobart entered my life. I had to get a job that paid money. That sucked. No more time for pie baking for the VFW or White Elephant Sales for the church. Hosting Club was not on the schedule as much as before. Oh, how I loved to set the table, fill the punch bowl and listen to the speakers and presentations of the ALPHA PI CCL or the Mental Culture Club. To host such events a girl had to have a side job seeking out the best décor. Antiques were a passion. Where had it been this object? Who was so clever as to make such a beautiful thing? The items handed down from my family before me were better than gold. So, off I went. Toledo Trust Bank.
Did you know that at that time we bank tellers at the drive through were getting gassed by carbon dioxide fumes all day? Oh, did I get the headaches. Well, they went belly up. The next job. Back to school. Yep, I moved home with my mother. Rented my house and finished something that, well Eric kind of interrupted in the 60s. College. I did all the 4-year requirements in 2. My kids were off and running so why not? Behavioral Connections. Compass.
A Drug and Alcohol Abuse Counselor and Domestic Violence advocate. I can’t thank the Lord enough for the lessons I learned from helping others, who often helped me. I loved that job. The years bounced by. After retirement my fun job of collecting kept me busy. Then the stroke. Well, I tried. I tried my best to do all my “jobs”. Really you can’t list them all. I said a prayer at bedtime my whole life. Any documentary on TV about history and the work done to advance civil rights and make this world a better place was my tutor. My poor daughter. I would call her any time of the day or night. Are you watching this? You need to be watching this? Thank God for Television it filled the lonely space of aging. And to all my friends out at Otterbein, ZIPPITY DO DA!
In MEMORIAM:
SLOW DOWN. Promises. Promises. Keep them, Take the time to give to others. They do not need things. They need you. Walk up to a stranger and make them laugh, help them lift and reach, hand them the money you would otherwise spend on “stuff”. Put that phone down and listen to the birds and the stories from those old timers. Because I told you to!
Share my favorite Poem with a friend:
DARWIN’S MISTAKE
Three monkeys sat in a coconut tree,
Discussing things as they are said to be.
Said one to the others, “now listen, you two,
there’s a certain rumor that can’t be true.”
That man descended from our noble race.
That very idea is a disgrace.
No monkey ever deserted his wife,
Starved her babies or ruined her life.
And another thing you will never see,
A monk build a fence round a coconut tree,
And let the coconuts go to waste,
Forbidding all other monks to taste.
If I build a fence around this tree,
Starvation would force you to steal from me.
Here’s another thing a monk won’t do,
Go out at night and get in a stew,
And use a gun or pull a knife,
To take some other monkey’s life.
Yes man descended, the ornery cuss.
But brother, he didn’t descend from us.
