Honig Cabernet Sauvignon

2008
NAPA Valley
Can be enjoyed now or cellared through 2016


The day we opened the Honig was a GREAT day. It was just one of those pivotal "happy" days. My brother David was here and we had no where to go, Christmas had just been the day before, we were both off from work and enjoying the Christmas tree and the fireplace and cheese and crackers and wine and music. We had some great wines that week, but the Honig Cabernet was by far our favorite. It just made us smile on first sip and we had a really nice quiet time just sipping and smiling. This had milk chocolate silkiness and flavor intermingled with black fruits and vanilla and wood spice with a lingering, great finish.

Of course, after we had enjoyed a glass or two, we were in such a good mood we decided on some mischief. The Guy was out and the girls were shopping with my mother-in-law. David decided we needed to go get one of the old big stuffed lions my girls had given me to discard of upon cleaning out their rooms. The animals were all in the garage in a bag waiting for removal. David saw the lion and decided we should go put it in a tree in the backyard so that either one of the girls and/or The Guy would be surprised when taking the dog out to do his duty. We went to great lengths. I dragged out the big ladder and we propped it up against the tree and David strategically placed "Goliath" in the branches overhead the dog's "walking" area. We were in absolute hysterics the entire time imitating what we thought The Guy would be like, or one of the girls, out waiting for the dog to do his business just standing there looking around.

For DD

From the bedroom closet, we lifted shoes; one by one we placed them in a box. She was unbelievably strong, set in her task, as she handed me one pair after the other: a pair of well worn black leather slippers, some heavy brown dress shoes.

Boat shoes, and loafers in many leather shades, I ran my hands over them and looked at your smiling face from one of many pictures on the dresser, Charlie’s picture next to you, and Heath’s bridal portrait hangs on the wall. You and your first bride, and me here on Earth with your other bride, Charlie’s first.

Next came the knitted island shoes, two pairs, one obviously favored more by you than the other; she held those out for a moment and hesitated, smiled dreamily, and quietly said how you loved those shoes.

Then she gave me your wool blazers, and suits, each well-made and classically styled; she handed them off to me to hang on the cart we would use to roll them away. I thought of the many times I’d seen you dressed in them, always with a welcoming, happy smile, accompanied by a kiss.

To the next closet, where we gathered your ties: Lobsters, sailboats, Santa Claus, crabs, Easter eggs, whales, Christmas trees, pastel flowers and red hearts. Your life map unfolded with each one – sailor, beach lover, Christian, sense of humor, a life filled with beauty, adventure and love.

All packed up, we rolled the luggage dollie out of the bedroom and into the hallway, opened the door and out into the main hall we went, down to the elevator and into the basement. It was emotional for me, though unspoken. Your things being rolled away to the basement – there they joined the remnants of the lives of others: crystal chandeliers in storage, dresses from eras gone by, sun hats and record players, and suitcases that have been around the world. But it has to be this way.

I miss you in that place, by my grandmother’s side, surrounded by your needlepoint wall hangings and pillows, sunshine on the porch, where you sat the last day I ever spent with you, determined to beat those cancerous brain lesions that rendered you speechless, as you raised your weights over your head and lifted your legs one by one, demonstrating your strength and your resolve to not give up without a fight. But it was out of your hands - six days later you were gone.

It feels to me like you are still there, you, and my grandfather, and Heath, all watching over your fourth companion – as she sits on the sun porch, quietly waving as I drive away.

8.5 out of 10
14.5% alc. by vol.
$32/750 ml. bottle