Triggers

Today my mother would have celebrated the one hundred and fourteen anniversary of her birth. However she died before celebrating her sixty-fifth birthday. I always remember the date of her birth because it falls the day after my wedding anniversary. Ron and I were preparing a celebration for our fortieth year when he simply could not hold out much past our 39th.
We had been rolled 360 degrees in our Mazda extended cab pickup that past summer and the accident was a very worrisome thing for him. The offending insured party put off settlement and their pitiful offering was wearing on his already poor health. The final heart attack occurred on December 8, 1988 over a year short of our forty years.
November 12 in Minnesota where we met was the first day of deer hunting season and his blood relatives who were avid hunters could not believe he would give up the chance for an opening day hunt. He was never sorry that he did. There were plenty of steaks and liver from successful shots to reach our table all without the work of dressing and dragging a carcass out of tangled woods. It was such a pleasant memory that he seldom ever again went hunting in the cold Minnesota deer season. Although eating the results was very good, hunting is hard work and when practised with great comraderie, most hunters thought it worth the hardships.
It is just as well we no longer relied on hunting for our meat. Somehow beef, pork, and yes, even chicken, taste better when I do not have to clean the critters myself. But I was pleased to have these special anniversary dates trigger memories that will always be with me.
Naomi Sherer