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A kaleidoscope of color swirls into every corner of Victoria and redecorates our lives from one moment to the next. Have you got your crayons ready?
Color me serene. Bea Beddor, a new Victoria resident at Shores of Stieger Lake, called last week to inquire about the correct spelling of Stieger. She comment-ed how our street signs are inconsistent in that regard, even those within a few feet of each other.
I told Bea that I've griped and educat-ed via the Gazette for over 25 years to no avail. In fact, the problem has been compounded with growth, not alleviated, and certainly not corrected.
In regard to "Stieger" or "Steiger," I use the Serenity Prayer: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.
Color me concerned. The intersec-tion at Highway 5 and Park Drive here in Victoria is an accident waiting to happen. It's never been a good intersection, but it has gone from bad to worse and I fear it will soon be a deadly intersection.
I'm dumbfounded that Three Rivers Park District would take advantage of its prideful and powerful position to shove another 100 cars per day down the throats of Victoria families already choking at this entrance to a residential neighbor-hood.
Color me lucky. Victoria has great decks and backyards. Some face a swimming pool. Some face a lake. Some Victoria decks face a playground or a church or a golf course. Some overlook a pond or a creek, flower garden or walking trail. From some Victoria decks you see the Big Dipper at night and the Big Sky during the day.
Our own deck on Lilac Lane is very private. When we eat dinner on our deck - in the spring and the fall, before and after the mosquito season - we sit under an umbrella of maple trees. We see no homes or people or roads or cars. We see pheasants and deer, cardinals flitting here, chipmunks scampering there. Sometimes a pheasant pokes around. Sometimes a raccoon peeks at us from a high branch. We see the setting sun. We feel the evening breeze.
Color me happy. Two Franciscans who lived in Victoria for a time over the years impacted the community and also my life personally. Two weeks ago I was able to take a couple days to drive to Springfield, Illinois, with some girlfriends to see Father Elstan Coghill and then, as Providence would have it, we also got to spend some time with Father Bernardine Hahn who was visiting from St. Louis, Missouri.
These guys hardly call a material thing their own. They consider every-thing a gift which they get to use for a time. I cannot say that I live the Francis-can way, but I can say that I love and admire the people who do. By the way, they're both doing quite well.
Color me sorrowful. From about 1979 through 1995, Victoria had a post-master who was very good to me. [Barb Hoffman, you are good to me, too.] But when I first started working with the Gazette, Al Folden helped me learn the ropes about mailing by piece and by pound, sorting addresses by zip code, proper labeling, address changes and corrections. I still hate all that stuff.
One time, early on, as I was spewing frustration and tears everywhere, Al shut down the inside door at the Victoria Post Office for ten minutes in order to console me and remind me that the sun will come up tomorrow. He became a friend. As friends are wont to do, he made me laugh often and he even wrote a monthly column for the Gazette, introducing the community to Aunt Martha.
Just this past Friday, May 26th, Al Folden called me from a nursing home. He has been suffering and dying these past couple of months from a recent diagnosis of brain cancer. He cried when he heard my voice and as he told me about his precarious predicament. He was distraught, emotional, and in a lot of pain, but coherent and conversational.
I reminded Al that God allows pain and suffering to the people He loves a lot. In typical Al Folden fashion, he replied, "I wish God didn't love me so much."
"I will come to see you very soon," I promised. "I will bring you spring water from Lourdes. I love you."
His last words to me, through his distress: "I love you too."
Al died Monday, May 29th. He was only 73. Memorial Day Weekend had called us out of town for a nephew's graduation and a niece's bridal shower, so I didn't get to see Al Folden before his passing. Obviously I can't be in two places at one time but I surely thought he would have given me another day or two.
I imagine that my old friend is quite intrigued by his new life and location. Al and Judy loved to travel and had maps on file for every place on the continent it seemed. I know Al also had a map for that final destination and that he was pretty good at following directions. My deepest sympathy to you, Judy, and to your children and grandchildren.
The kaleidoscope of color in Victoria continues to turn and churn with a chang-ing series of phases and events. Where it stops, nobody knows. Some of the colors we can choose ourselves, and some are picked by others. In either case, it's nice to have a good supply of crayons.
~Sue
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