One month

My life partner of over 40 years died Nov. 23. Kimberly Ann (Polzin) Melius had just turned 58 and died unexpectedly following complications from cancer surgery. She loved Christmas with family and will be dearly missed this year and beyond.

Life’s journey can be difficult at times, and this is certainly one of those. But nobody knew better than her of life’s circle and the reality of it all. She was a gifted hospice social worker much of her life. Still, for our six children and four grandchildren, Kim’s death hit hard.

I promised myself I’d put together my thoughts one month later, for the days move by so quickly, and life tries to return to some sense of normalcy. But it will never be the same.

Kim was more than a gifted social worker. She was tough. Death isn’t an easy path nor very often welcomed. Kim was gentle and compassionate to those individuals and families, blunt and pointed at times when needed. Her days providing hospice care were her finest, and she touched lives from St. James to Waseca, Arlington to Mankato and beyond.

On the few occasions families allowed me to tag along, I was so impressed with her passion, her ethics and her advocacy for the dying.

A past co-worker of Kim’s said she could be as hard as a nail or soft as a marshmallow, often at the same time. That pretty much summed up Kim.

The kids understood both sides, too. Family life isn’t always simple or easy. Six children and their differing personalities add to the sometimes dysfunctional nature of a large family. We weren’t perfect in our parenting skills and differed often on the right touch.

Marriage, too, can be difficult, and Kim and I struggled at times. But love evolves; it rarely adheres to the same design through the years. As Kim battled through some health issues over the past few years, she and I again became best friends. That might sound raw, but it’s so important.

The kids noticed, too. Nearly every night, Kim would place her head on my shoulder and thank me for helping her through the battles. She had undergone parathyroid surgery in May, invasive brain surgery for a benign tumor in October, and was staring at a third surgery Nov. 23 to address uterine cancer. This one was supposed to be rather routine, if surgery ever is. We’re still waiting for answers as to what went wrong.

I had become her caretaker in many ways. And I was perfectly fine in that role. It’s what you do for your life partner. I had often joked with Kim, sometimes to her sharp eyes, that 36 years of marriage wrecks one’s search for a soulmate. The joke sounds harsh, but there’s some reality to it. And as we both came to understand it and accept such reality, we relaxed and enjoyed life together.

One’s life partner, the love of it all and the great experiences and journey, prompt change. Love evolves and changes with it. Such was our relationship and marriage. Through all the ups and downs, we grew close. And I am so damn grateful for that.

Our jobs through the years often placed us on separate paths, with different friend networks. But this diverse group of friends, as well as those unique networks of our children, surfaced at Kim’s memorial service in Winthrop, our hometown. This overwhelming support, as well as touching words and thoughts on social media, was so appreciated by my family.

My presence in St. Peter over the past 18 months has also brought me into an entirely new network of friends. It was, and is, becoming my community. Kim and I had been discussing a move to the area, our first-ever discussion of leaving our hometown.

You know, when you’re caught between communities, one can feel a bit disjointed. And a sense of community is so important. So I am pleased and humbled the St. Peter community has become such a key part of my life.

That life has been forever altered. But it remains an amazing journey. And there is a great deal of good ahead. Kim would want us all to know that and move forward. And she would remind you to hug your loved ones, tight and often, and never be shy to tell them so.

And we will. Peace to you, my dear.

Daughter’s Gustavus days remembered

My oldest daughter, Ambryn, graduated from Gustavus Adolphus College in 2003. It was not always an easy transition to start for her, moving from GFW High School in Winthrop to this new environment despite just 35 miles away.

Dorm life brings its challenges. And Ambryn only half-joked about being on a first name basis with those in the business office. Leaving her little sister at home also brought unexpected calls from then 7-year-old Mikell, who missed her big sister/roommate and was left with four brothers in the Melius household.

But Ambryn found her way, thanks in large part of her new friends, some great professors, and active involvement with the Gustavus Diversity Center. She and roommate Bethany Mueller of Little Falls became BFFs long before the acronym surfaced.                                        

And in the fall of 2001, Ambryn and other Gustavus students, along with professor Doug Huff, journeyed to India for a study abroad semester. Those global educational dreams grab many of our youth, and those experiences and memories shape one’s soul, principles and convictions.                  

But the Gustavus students’ India trip was cut short by the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. Most of us remember that day, where we were, the horror of it all, the utter disbelief.

I was standing in my living room that morning, having heard the news and quickly switching between news reports of a commercial airliner crashing into one of the World Trade Towers. And I vividly recall Bryant Gumbel’s expression when the second plane hit; not until then did the full understanding of the day’s events unfold – this was no accident.

Communications throughout the world were disrupted; trying to get in touch with loved ones scattered around the globe was nearly impossible. We didn’t hear from Ambryn for hours.

But that was a far cry from the sights and sounds of New York. The days and weeks ahead were grueling. A total of 2,977 victims died from the terrorist attacks. Nineteen hijackers downed four planes – the two which hit the towers, one into the Pentagon, one into the fields of Pennsylvania.

Those early days following the attacks brought international sympathy to Americans worldwide. Ambryn and her fellow Gustavians were initially safe and continued their studies. It all changed when U.S. bombers struck Afghanistan on Oct. 7, 2001. Pro-American sentiment – President George Bush’s approval ratings hit 90 percent – died quickly.

Gustavus was faced with a difficult decision – bringing the study abroad students from India back home. Ambryn and her classmates, for the most part, disagreed with the decision. But a few years later, Ambryn and Bethany returned to India, feeling a need to finish their work.

It’s all part of the learning process. Dreams and tragedy, friendships and heartache. It is, indeed, a remarkable journey.

And Ambryn’s journey takes a new turn on Sept. 19, when she’s set to marry her partner, Alexandria Kewitt. I’m thinking her days at Gustavus, the trips to India, growing up with four brothers and a baby sister in a Melius household which tried dang hard to allow for individual growth and discovery, all helped.

These words are how Ambryn framed her feelings, just days before the wedding:

“It struck me this morning, as Alex and I stepped up to the county recorder’s desk and asked for a marriage license, that I never expected I’d do this…you know, this marriage thing. Partly because I used to thing marriage wasn’t for me, and then again also because marriage was not allowed for me.

“But today, alongside the woman with whom I’m wildly in love and certain I want to spend my life beside, we walked on up, took up space, filled in spaces, and were provided a means for recognition and rights. Still so much work to do on so many fronts, but for today, I shall be grateful and oh-so-humbled by all whom have come before us.”

Well said, daughter.