England, on June 16th, 1945, degree. The promotion that Matthew Paul Bauer and Suzanne brought them to this house in Lilian Miller were joined in Holy Rochester back in The way ’78. matrimony before 47 guests at they’d both learned to sand and the Pickerington Methodist paint and plaster and fit pipes to Church. turn this shack into a beautiful The next fifty-three years home. And perhaps the scariest seemed, from the perspective of lessons of all came from raising the ninety year old man planting the kids. Matthew had been flowers in his backyard, to pass in petrified he’d break them the blink of a hummingbird’s somehow. He didn’t know how to wing. There had been teach the boys to throw a football innumerable highs—the birth of or hit a baseball, to ride a bike or their three kids, the trip to drive a car. But Suzie was always Yellowstone, Suzie winning the there, reassuring him. Trusting Betty Crocker cook-off with her him. Believing in him. Never raspberry tart recipe—and some allowing him to doubt his terrible lows. Little Michael capabilities. getting hit by that car back in And now he was on his own. ‘56, Matthew’s being passed over for Sure, he still had the kids, and his the plant manager job three grandson Allan and his wife were times, the closing of the godsends. It was hard without Columbus plant, and of course, Suzie, awfully hard, but he’d Suzie’s cancer, and the relapse made her a promise in the that finally took her. But life is a hospital, and he’d stuck to it. journey, and there were many The cancer had come back lessons along the way. And with hard; her organs were riddled Suzie helping to push him, he’d with it. They both realized her achieved more than he ever could time was He’d held her have imagined. The seven long hand, so boney and frail, and years of studying late at night and stroked her soft hair. weekends to earn his bachelor’s
England, on June 16th, 1945, Matthew Paul Bauer and Suzanne Lilian Miller were joined in Holy matrimony before 47 guests at the Pickerington Methodist Church. The next fifty-three years seemed, from the perspective of the ninety year old man planting flowers in his backyard, to pass in the blink of a hummingbird’s wing. There had been innumerable highs—the birth of their three kids, the trip to Yellowstone, Suzie winning the Betty Crocker cook-off with her raspberry tart recipe—and some terrible lows. Little Michael getting hit by that car back in ‘56, Matthew’s being passed over for the plant manager job three times, the closing of the Columbus plant, and of course, Suzie’s cancer, and the relapse that finally took her. But life is a journey, and there were many lessons along the way. And with Suzie helping to push him, he’d achieved more than he ever could have imagined. The seven long years of studying late at night and weekends to earn his bachelor’s degree. The promotion that brought them to this house in Rochester back in ’78. The way they’d both learned to sand and paint and plaster and fit pipes to turn this shack into a beautiful home. And perhaps the scariest lessons of all came from raising the kids. Matthew had been petrified he’d break them somehow. He didn’t know how to teach the boys to throw a football or hit a baseball, to ride a bike or drive a car. But Suzie was always there, reassuring him. Trusting him. Believing in him. Never allowing him to doubt his capabilities. And now he was on his own. Sure, he still had the kids, and his grandson Allan and his wife were godsends. It was hard without Suzie, awfully hard, but he’d made her a promise in the hospital, and he’d stuck to it. The cancer had come back hard; her organs were riddled with it. They both realized her time was He’d held her hand, so boney and frail, and stroked her soft hair.
2015%20Autumn%20S&S.docx