My Guy and Leaving Ritzy Things
by Ritzy Ritzhaupt
We only had a 30 day notice that the
lease would not be renewed on my knit shop. It was not enough time to sell off
the contents of the shop. New inventory arrived on a daily basis
since it was too late to stop the orders. We were not only overwhelmed but
broadside by this news. My husband and I diligently slaved for that last month
trying to liquidate the inventory and move the complete contents of the
shop.
We
had plans on how to sell off the remaining inventory once we moved out and
caught our breath. We had enjoyed a wonderful group of customers. Many of our
saddened customers came in to help us pack things up and load boxes onto the
truck for the storage units. It was just too much to sell off that quickly.
With heavy hearts we closed our doors never to open again.
I
never had that chance to catch my breath... Let me step back in
time to the prior September 2002. I faintly started to hear a soft voice
echoing in my head that continued for months. The voice repeated these
words and only these words, over and over again, "It only takes an
instant." Being a mother with adult children, my thoughts immediately
turned to some tragedy that might involve them our grandchildren. At odd
moments during the day I would hear this phrase repeated in my head.
I
than came to my senses, I realized I didn't have control over my children or
grandchildren and their lives. I began to doubt that this was a warning that
meant they were in danger. Still, I heard... "It only takes and
instant".
I
stood in front of my shop, admiring the success I had created with the
beginning funds of only $250.00 many years ago with the help from my darling
husband. Oh, yes, it had taken time and lots of energy, but I had created what
I desired. Wow! It was a powerful feeling. Joy, pride and the greatest fullness
that comes with success, all washed over me. I stood in the parking lot,
proudly gazing at the neon sign above my store, which I had seen, but not seen
for years. I again heard the voice. "It only takes an
instant." Of course, I did the only logical thing; I strongly ignored
it!
Then
when the "voice" continued to ring in my head, I felt the warning
must be meant for me. I started being more cautious in my regular activities
and always saying what I meant... but that's a good thing over all. This seemed
to send the voice a ways farther back into the distance.
I
was happy with my life, I'd achieved my goals, not perfectly but my dreams were
fulfilled. I was on top of the world. I was madly in love with my guy and he
was head over heels in love with me. He handled all the household stuff and I worked
the knit shop. He treated me like his queen, as if I were a precious commodity,
cherished and very loved.
My
guy was a romantic at heart. A sweet and tender soul, he loved nothing more
than to make me happy. He did so many little things to light up my day or just
because. He'd be the one to get lunch for us or get our morning latte. He'd
come back with hugs and kisses as though he'd been gone for a week. In other
words, we couldn't stand to be apart. We truly enjoyed each other’s company. He
had traveled the world in a submarine but wanted nothing more than to be by my
side. His years aboard a submarine had given him a talent for packing goods
into small spaces. He always amazed me how he could make a huge quantity of
stuff shrink into a tiny space.
He
was my forest of protection, always there offering his arms for safety. My
strength, my very being had been securely entwined in him. We were two strong
individuals but one whole. We were close as though we breathed for each other.
He was my senior and that always gave me pause, yet, he didn't act that old. He
acted and behaved much younger. He had learned to take time to smell
the roses too.
One
early dawn he came back into the house and gently woke me. "Come quick,
you have to see this." He wrapped my robe around me and threw my jacket on
top of that. It was a cold November morning at daybreak. When we stepped off
the porch and looked to the east over the top of the barn... we became bathed
in the most glorious sunrise ever. We shared that moment as close as two beings
can, as we shivered in the morning crispness watching the sky unfold its
glorious show. He gave me one of his lushes big hugs and placed me back on the
porch with kisses a bunch. "I love you sweetie," he said as he
planted a parting kiss on my lips, as though he was going out to sea for months.
Back
to the July 17, 2003 ten days after closing. We were starting
our new life without the shop and all our shop friends. We still hadn't tried
to move any of the many stacks of boxes that cluttered the house. We did a
little jig-jag to dance around them when going from room to room. We knew we
had lots of time to figure them out. First we would eliminate the storage units
and then un-clutter the house.
A
week and a half later we needed to buy groceries and decided a trip to the base
would be something to cheer us up. He seemed tired but I thought he was still
trying to catch up on rest from the move. I knew I still felt deflated. He had
made a doctor’s appointment for the following Monday morning. He took more time
and waited in the car while I did some of the shopping. When we got home, we
both unloaded the groceries from the car. He took the frozen foods down to the
basement freezer.
We
were both exhausted from our trip out and had a simple dinner. We popped in a
movie since nothing else sparked our interest. I started to lie down on the
couch and realized I just might fall asleep. I quickly sprang back up and
looked him in the eye from across the room.
"I
love you babe," I said.
"Ahhhh,
you do?" He answered back with one of his big lopsided grins and a
question in his voice.
"With
all my heart," I reassured him.
"I
love you to babe," he said as he continued to eat a bowl of fruit.
I
laid back down with the knowledge that all was right in my world.
Sad
to say, it didn't last long. I soon realized I was at the threshold of change.
The clock revealed 2 am. He wasn't in his recliner. I didn't know what, but
something seemed very wrong. I was aware that I was not hearing the voice
and the lack of it made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Those events
have been the hardest I have ever had to walk through. The realization that
there was nothing I could do to change them, that hit me hard.
I
now appreciated how the Hawaiian King, in the book Hawaii, had climbed to the
top of the mountain and gouged out his eye at the loss of his beloved wife. If
I could just find a high enough mountain or a sharp enough knife, I too could
cut out my pain. It has been a long hard road.
Ed wanted our flag out front; after all,
he retired after serving 20 years in the US Navy on submarines. He enjoyed helping
me in the shop. He thrived when working behind the counter where his perfect scrip
made each ticket readable by the accountant. He told many of his submarine
stories to knitter’s spouses as their wives shopped for yarn and patterns. Young
and old would sit around the large worktable learning to knit and purl as they
pictured the waves crashing over his submarine as the boat road out a storm.
Most of his stories were laughter filled and some were nail biters.
When an out
of sort’s toddler appeared, he would enchant them into a realm of construction as
he showed them how to make a large swatch on the knitting machine or led them
to the toy box and offered to read them a story. There were times; it was almost
magical as he wooed them into quiet time while mom shopped. This was intriguing
to watch since he stood six feet four inches tall and most toddlers came to his
knee.
Ed New Year's
Our
last trip together New Year’s 2002 to Vancouver BC.
Ed photo
In
fond memory of my beloved husband, Edward D. Ritzhaupt CPO USN Retired
07/12/1929 - 07/18/2003
© 2015 by Ritzy Ritzhaupt, All rights
reserved
