Triggers

Last Friday, May 31st, I sent an e-mail to a friend I worked with at the Messenger newspaper in Canandaigua.
The name of the e-mail was “Triggers;” things that start me crying.
My friend watches over me, and me over her. She lost her husband about six months before I lost my wife. Losing a spouse is very hard, especially a beloved spouse.
I detailed five things that start me crying. I’ll only mention three; the last two aren’t as much a trigger as the first three.
—1) Every morning I empty my dishwasher, which I used to do before my wife died.
I open a cupboard to put away glasses, and there are her cups I’ll never use.
I always made decaf in a small ceramic pitcher; she made green tea in a cup.
—2) Auto-trips to Canandaigua involve a bypass to avoid the infamous Bloomfield speed-trap.
I’ve been snared by it many times.
I head south a short ways, and ahead in the distance are the verdant Bristol Hills.
They always start me crying.
My last trip with my wife was to a hospice in the Bristol Hills.
—3) “If you or anyone else sits in that chair Linda used while we watched the news and ate supper, I’ll start bawling. No one has sat in that chair for over a year. The chair just waits. I haven’t gotten rid of it.”
I’ll mention one other trigger I forgot to put in the e-mail.
I use a semi-roundabout route to get into the nearby village of Honeoye Falls (“HONE-eee-oy;” rhymes with “boy”).
The supermarket and bank and pharmacy are on the west side of town, so if they’re where I’m going, I take that roundabout route.
It passes “Countryside Flower-Farm,” a farm-market we frequented often, yet I’ll never go to.
That farm-market was my wife’s discovery. How many tomato-plants from Countryside Flower-Farm did she bring home? There are flowers in front of my house from Countryside Flower-Farm.
Countryside Flower-Farm always had a store-dog that welcomed you after checking you out. He wanted to be petted. “Oh, you’re the guys with that Irish-Setter. Tomato-plants are out back.”
I no longer have an excuse to patronize Countryside Flower-Farm and pet their store-dog.

• The “Messenger” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired over seven years ago. Best job I ever had — I worked there almost 10 years (over 11 if you count my time as a post-stroke unpaid intern [I had a stroke October 26, 1993, from which I recovered fairly well]).
• “Canandaigua” (“cannan-DAY-gwuh”) is a small city nearby where I live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” It’s about 14 miles east. —I live in the small rural town of West Bloomfield, southeast of Rochester. (Adjacent is Bloomfield village.)
• My beloved wife of over 44 years died of cancer April 17th, 2012. (Her name was “Linda.”) I miss her dearly.
• My current dog is “Scarlett” (two “Ts,” as in Scarlett O’Hara), a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s seven, and is my sixth Irish-Setter, a high-energy dog. (A “rescue Irish Setter” is an Irish Setter rescued from a bad home; e.g. abusive or a puppy-mill. [Scarlett was from a failed backyard breeder.] By getting a rescue-dog, we avoid puppydom, but the dog is often messed up. —Scarlett isn't bad. She’s my fourth rescue.)