Shortly after returning home from my recent road trip, I went grocery shopping. While selecting a few Honey Crisp apples from a bin, I suddenly pictured Lee and me on a warm, fall day at the country orchard near our Indiana getaway where we enjoyed going to shop for seasonal fruits and vegetables. My eyes involuntarily filled with tears. Just as quickly, however, my thoughts turned to Deer Tick Manor, our Indiana getaway and named in honor of the predominant species of fauna common to that part of the state.
This past November, or maybe it was early December, but just ahead of another predictably windy and snowy Indiana winter, per our annual custom I traveled there to close Deer Tick for the season. The process involves, among other tasks, covering the home’s many windows with foam insulation that Lee had pre-cut to size and shape and to which she had affixed strips of old bedsheets to create the illusion of window treatments. To further suggest that the place might be occupied I set up timers attached to several strategically placed indoor lights, and changed out the bulbs of the outdoor sunrise-sunset lights. I cover the air conditioner compressor. I bring the hoses and sprinklers back inside the house to avoid their freezing; I drain the riding mower of gasoline; I attach its battery to the trickle charge in the garage. Finally, before departing, I “winterize” the house by clearing the pipes of all water, add pink antifreeze to both toilets and lower the thermostat down to 45 degrees, both conserving energy and depriving the greedy capitalists who operate NIPSCO unwarranted additional profits. Apart from resorting to subterfuge, a year-around neighbor is kind enough to check in with me as needed from time to time. 
Lee and I would devote an entire weekend to this endeavor, while leaving time for at least one nice restaurant dinner, maybe a visit to the casino, and, of course, a final hot tub session. This year, for the first time, no dinner, no casino, no hot tub. No Lee.
As Lee’s illnesses intensified, our visits to Deer Tick had become less frequent. Indeed, after early Summer 2019 we were only there together a relative handful of times while she underwent intrusive procedures and treatments, which over time left her too depleted physically either to make the trip or to be able to enjoy the visit had we made it. Our last visit together there was last June 12, our wedding anniversary, and by design one day before a meeting with Lee’s doctor where we got more bad news. Lee was dead less than one month later.
Lee always liked Deer Tick better than I. You see, I had been bird dogging properties all over northern Indiana for almost two years in search of a place for us when one day, unexpectedly, while cruising aimlessly south of U.S. Route 30, I stumbled upon THE place: A brick ranch located on a small lake near Valparaiso. It enjoyed a western exposure; it had a dock, even a pontoon; located along a country road yet very close to the town, which has a university and other cultural amenities. Unfortunately, we happened to be away from home one weekend when a bone headed realtor botched the deal and allowed this rare find to be scooped up a developer, who wasted no time knocking down the place and slapping up a gaudy mini-mansion in its place, before laughing all the way to the bank with his neat and tidy bundle. If you surmise from my tone that I am still mildly pissed, despite the passage of nearly 20 years, you would be correct. We’ve all heard the story of the bride or groom who is jilted at the alter and on the rebound marries the first decent prospect who happens along. For me, that gal’s name is Deer Tick.
However, over the years, and under Lee’s tender and loving management, Deer Tick had been transformed. It still wasn’t exactly a prince but also was no longer a toad. In place of unsightly, overgrown (and poison ivy infested) acreage, Lee created gardens of native plants that thrived in the sandy soil, able to compete with the relentless weeds, that drew butterflies, bees and hummingbirds. 
We planted many trees, which over time woodpeckers, jays, cardinals, wrens, bluebirds, orioles, hawks, and even the occasional owl would come to call home. 
She added tasteful and utilitarian outdoor structures that drew us outside to enjoy all this splendid nature, this being a primary reason for having Deer Tick in the first place. And, of course, she took the lead in refurbishing the house’s mundane interior layout to better align it with the improved outdoors. She painted the drab premises on the cheap with cool hues, added lots of playful bric-a-brac and eclectic furniture that she acquired on fun excursions to country auctions, local garage sales and second-hand stores.
I know it had bothered Lee to be rendered physically unable to tend to her beloved gardens as she was accustomed: fully committed, required tools and supplies gathered and at the ready, attacking every weed, or watering, or mulching, or doing spade work for hours on end with great vigor, despite the summer heat. 
Lee, who had Type 2 diabetes, always stopped her work to eat lunch. We would sit on one of the porches, watching the birds, on the lookout for “critters,” binoculars always on hand, listening in silence to the sound of the wind rustling the leaves. These were some of our favorite moments, but only for a bit Lee as suddenly would announce that it was time for her to get back to work.
Meanwhile, like the proverbial frivolous grasshopper, I would go upstairs to our “great room” and play my electric guitar loud enough so that she could hear the music, and in this way keep her company. I admired her boundless energy, so much so that sometimes I would stop playing just to watch her work the plants.
At such times I felt very much in love with my wife.
Last summer, not long after Lee died, I had to return to Deer Tick to attend to a few matters. I dreaded going alone but convinced Eric and Julie and Oliver their dog to join me. The moment I saw Lee’s gardens, I bawled. I could see they needed immediate care and attention, but they also remained quite beautiful. I smiled, thinking to myself that Lee’s roots run deep. I returned home to the city refreshed and more thankful than ever for our life together.
Now as spring approaches and it is almost time to reopen Deer Tick, I have not the slightest qualm or hesitation. I plan to visit the place frequently, perhaps enjoy one or more extended stays. We’ll see how it goes. Lee’s spirit and touch permeate this simple place that we made into our second home. And I can hardly wait to feel her presence.
