Lighthouse

I have reached out to where you used to be,
and am lost. There is night.
I do not know my way without you.

I am hollowed out. Crippled.
I am not ready for this.
I am not ready to grow up.
I am not ready.

It is a bleak mantra, a terror.

I have grasped at thoughts of you, images and
words that float past my reach and settle
carefully into memory.

I can't find you. Lost.
I can't do this.
I can't figure out what's next.
I rail and stretch and ache.

It is of being cut loose, untethered.
Adrift.

And then all at once I see brightness
where before I had found only shadow.
There is joy here, and surcease from worry,
and peace. I find my bearings.

And I see.
You shine now, you laugh and have
new purpose. You thrive. You watch, and blaze
with love.
And I find my course.

Where you were my guiding hand, you are now
my beacon. I will not falter.
And you will always be there, waiting.
Guiding me to shore.

I will be all right, and you will be watching.
You do not shine the light into the dark for me any longer.
You have become that light.

I will not lose my way again.

                                                      -Your youngest child, Mark

good night, sweet prince

On October 8, 2012 we said goodbye to our gentle father, husband, grandfather, and friend.  We will miss him beyond measure.

In 2006 we celebrated Norm's 75th birthday with this website. It's a multimedia extravaganza of stories, photos and greetings from family and friends--an online collection of memories.  Please browse the website and spend some time with Norm.

Schwister, Norman Walter
Age 80, of Circle Pines, Minnesota died October 8, 2012. Preceded in death by parents, Walter and Frieda Schwister and brother, Donald Schwister. Norm was born on October 17, 1931 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He graduated from the University of Wisconsin, Madison in 1952, majoring in dairy production. Norm served as an army medic in Germany from 1952-1954. He married Mary June Gibbons of DePere, Wisconsin on July 21, 1962. Norm spent close to 40 years in the dairy industry, working in Wisconsin and Minnesota. Most of Norm’s career was with Mid America Dairymen (now Dairy Farmers of America) as an operations manager. Norm and Mary spent their early years in Kiel Wisconsin, Winthrop Minnesota, and Bloomer Wisconsin. They moved to Circle Pines in 1976.  Norm enjoyed camping, hiking, and family vacations. He and Mary loved to travel, especially to the western United States. Norm’s interests included photography, sports cars, and the stock market. Norm appreciated all types of music from classical to big band to Linda Eder. He volunteered with Loaves and Fishes. Norm was a devoted husband, caring father, and gentle grandfather. He owned a TR3 but loved an MG. Survived by beloved wife of 50 years Mary (nee Gibbons); daughter Kathy (Mark) Griebel; sons Steve (Kathy) Schwister, Scott (Kelly) Schwister and Mark Schwister; grandchildren Scott, Hannah, Sam, and Tarikua Griebel; Katie and Erin Schwister; Finnian and Rowan Schwister; sister Lois (Steve) Radke; and countless other relatives and friends. Funeral Mass on Friday, October 19 at 11am; St. Joseph of the Lakes Catholic Church, 171 Elm Street, Lino Lakes, MN 55014. Visitation at the church on Thursday, October 18 from 6-8pm and Friday, October 19 from 10-11am. Interment at the church cemetery immediately following Mass.  Norm's family expresses deep gratitude to Dr. David King of Minnesota Oncology for his compassionate care.  We also thank the dedicated and expert staff of Minnesota Oncology, Unity Hospital - 2 West, Benedictine Health Care Center, Allina Home Health Care, Visiting Angels, and Allina Hospice.  Memorials preferred to Minnesota Angel Foundation, www.mnangel.org or Loaves and Fishes, www.loavesandfishesmn.org.

the book of the blog

one more rescue story

Twas many months before Christmas, in fact it was May.
Not a dark cloud was blowing for most of the day.
The Schwisters were nestled at home safe and sound
with hopes that the storm would not land in their town.

When out of the sky there arose such a wail.
Tornados were sighted. There was rain, there was hail!
Away to the basement Norm flew nice and quick,
with the radio tuned and the candles all wicked.

When what to Norm's wondering ears should he hear,
but a call from his daughter, which filled him with fear.
A tornado in Shoreview had smashed up her van.
Norm knew in a moment he must have a plan.

He sprang into action, up the stairs Norman raced.
He must stage a rescue there was no time to waste.
The power was out; it was as dark as night.
Norm needed a candle or two for some light.

He searched and he rummaged in all of the drawers
in his haste Norman dropped something glass on the floor.
Norm stepped on a glass shard and to his chagrin
he cut his bare foot, it was really stuck in.

Norm did not stop to fix his bad sore.
He raced to the garage but could not open the door.
He heaved and hoed; he pushed and he groaned.
He finally managed to lift that big load.

To keep it from falling back down on his head,
he set the stepladder beneath it instead.
When out in the garage there arose such a clatter
Mary ran out the door to see what was the matter.

Norm had forgotten the height of the thing.
Smacked his head on the door- Oh my, what a ding!
With his foot dripping blood and his head with a lump,
he didn't delay, in the car he did jump.

His head- how it pounded! His foot, how it ached!
He barely could handle the wheel and the brake.
He sped down the road with his wife by his side.
Mary said, 'Honey, do you think I should drive?"

He spoke not a word, but gripped the wheel tight.
His daughter was in peril, he must make it right.
Ahead in the road there appeared a great tree
blocking his path. Oh, how could this be?

Old Mother Nature had played her last card.
Norm had to return to his own house and yard.
Norm did exclaim as he drove through the night,
"I hope that her husband can set the thing right."

count the ways

Mark wrote earlier about Dad's considerable qualifications as Rescuer-General, bailer-out and puller-up extraordinaire. In his story, Dad was working his particular magic in what we'll call a vertical context. I've been on the receiving end---rescuee to his rescuer---many times, too, although usually no broken bones or were involved. Typically, this involved a late night phone call from me and Dad unhesitatingly driving to pick me up from wherever I was stranded. This scenario played out more times than I care to admit. Let's list just a few:

• Summer 1987: Going to Glacier! Wait. . . NOT going to Glacier! Dad, can you pick me up from the Amtrak station?
• Summer 1988: Epic improvised hitchhiking trip across Canada goes swimmingly until Watson Lake, where all hope is lost in a sinkhole of despair. Greyhound gets me to Winnipeg. Just for the fun of it, Dad and Kathy drive eight hours north to pick me up from the bus station.
• Fall 1998 - Spring 1991 (various occasions): More hitchhiking, this time weekends from the University of Minnesota in Morris to Not Quite Home But Close Enough. Dad, I'm in Maple Grove/Brooklyn Center/somewhere on 694. Can you come pick me up?
• March 1993: First leg of trip to New Mexico goes horribly wrong when subzero temperatures and a slowly-dying alternator intervene. Cleverly, I drive all the way to Kansas City before deciding that this is serious. Even more cleverly, instead of finding a local mechanic, I decide to turn around and go home so I can replace the alternator myself in the frigid comfort of Dad's garage. Each time it fails, the alternator can be temporarily stunned back to life by stopping the car, opening the hood, and delivering strategically-placed blows to its casing with a metal pipe. On the return trip, the alternator fails approximately once each mile. Hundreds of miles and thousands of blows later, the alternator is in shreds and finally gives up the ghost as I coast into a gas station in Farmington. Almost made it, but not quite. Dad, can you pick me up?
  
• Etc.
  

How do I love thee? Let me count the (high)ways. . .

of all the Christmas trees I've seen...

...I still like mine the best.

1957

1965

1966

1967

1971

1974

1976

1977

1979

1981

1984

1992

2004



2005

faces, places, and races

After having the privilege of working for Norm for many years, the number of experiences would be way beyond my memory. Norm was a great boss, freind and my personal career is a credit to Norm. Norm and I experienced many business trips together. I must admit that Norm was a very patient man although I always enjoyed watching Norm’s facial expression. Norm is one of the most honest and innocent people I know. One thing about Norm is that you would always clearly notice when he was embarrassed, upset, anxious….when Norm was uptight, his lips would tremble and it was time to back off. When Norm was embarrassed, his face would turn red as a beet. I will never forget the time I was at a business conference with Norm and happened to notice a tall attractive Afro American lady walk up to Norm as he was entering the elevator. This was one of those times that Norm turned red as a beet. I still laugh to myself about this because I always knew Norm was as innocent as a flea but he was extremely embarrassed.

I also remember when Norm and I were in Bloomer Wisconsin during the big Halloween Snow storm. Norm was driving and I told Norm that I have never missed a single Halloween with my kids at home. Norm assured me that he would get us home in plenty of time for Halloween. I don’t think Norm realized that we would receive 12+ inches of snow that afternoon. Regardless, Norm was determined to get me home on time as we were flying down I 94 on ice and snow heading toward the Cities. I was a little bit concerned and told Norm not to worry about Halloween. Norm ignored my comment as we continued to plow through ice and snow and eventually we even had the opportunity to experience a unique ride with Norm’s car driving down the interstate perpendicular with the car immediately adjacent to us which happened to be a Wisconsin highway patrol. Unbelievably, Norm got the car under control as we passed the highway patrol that made some unusual facial expressions toward us along with a direct signal to slow down. Thanks to Norm, I was actually home a little late but in plenty of time to continue the tradition that has last until today OF NOT MISSING a Halloween with my Kids.

Happy Birthday Norm!
God Bless!
Clint Fall