Various June 27ths

If Dr. Peter Wilfred Stine had written the memoirs of his travels it would have been entitled, Various June 27ths.  Stine was a great lover of travel and his epic adventures defined who he was to many people, well that and his passion for literature and the English language.  But in the year and a half that I cared for him as his personal assistant, I often defined this great man by what he loved to eat. I mean no disrespect but his health was constantly on my mind because the man never would eat anything that was good for him! We had meals together every time I saw him and sometimes we were together all day which meant I cleaned up his breakfast, prepared and ate lunch with him, served us our afternoon tea, and then proceeded down to the dinning hall for dinner at the latest hour he could possibly manage.  Stine hated eating an early dinner; it just wasn't fashionable! But one meal I will never forget was the time we had strawberry shortcake for dinner. It was of course his idea and not mine.  He had been given all kinds of fresh strawberries for his birthday because everyone knew that they were his favorite.  Luckily for Stine, having his birthday on June 27th made it possible to have fresh strawberry shortcake every single year for his birthday if he wanted!  On this particular day he wanted to use up the last of the strawberries and asked if I knew how to make biscuits and whipped cream.  Luckily for him I am a 1950s housewife trapped in a 21st century woman's body.  I had dinner ready in no time and he was very impressed.  

"You made this from scratch?"                "But of course, Stine. Anything for you!"                                                  And that was just how our relationship was.  I did little things around the house to make his life a bit more comfortable; I went grocery shopping, did his laundry, cooked him meals, and all in just tried to keep him happy.  For anyone who knew Stine, you know that that wasn't always the easiest thing to do, but I LOVED doing it!  As he sat eating his dessert for dinner I was a little scared he would go into diabetic shock from all the sugar but he said he was fine.  He only did this once or twice a year and it was worth it. He then said something to the effect of, "Miller, you will make some man very happy someday with cooking skills like these." Stine's way of complimenting me and his way of saying thank you was always slightly offensive to my feminist way of thinking but I tried to not take offense (as usual) and take the compliment for how it was meant and not how it sounded. 

June 27th is nigh upon us and tonight for dinner I wanted strawberry shortcake for some odd reason.  Then I thought of Stine and realized it was strawberry season and it was the end of June and I realized what I really wanted was to enjoy another dinner of strawberry shortcake with that incredible man. We would have talked about the British royalty (specifically the royal baby!) and he would have asked if I had voted today.  We would have discussed leukemia and he would have inquired about Bekah and if she was holding up. He would have asked if I had been seeing anyone lately and when I would sheepishly say no, he would then rejoice in my singleness because it meant that he could have me all to himself. It would have been a lovely conversation as usual and I would have left his apartment thinking about how much I love that man.

Today I had a delicious dinner of fresh strawberries, shortcake from my favorite local bakery, and whipped cream made by hand.  But I also got a healthy dose of grief that I wasn't expecting at all.  But grief is like that.  It creeps up on you when you least expect it and just showers you with emotions you forgot you had. But without the grief, I might forget how much I loved those who are no longer with us.  And that would be a tragedy greater that any death that I have experienced. I am sure there will be many June 27ths filled with strawberry shortcake and waves of grief. And I think there is no greater way to honor the memory of Stine because in doing so, I remember all the love that I gave to him and he gave to me.  Here's to you, Stine.  Happy Birthday! It was worth it.