Heading out to AZ in a few days. Fun in the sun with my daughter and my dad. I'm pretty happy and excited about it. I'm happy to be showing my daughter the great Southwest ~ I think she'll really love it. She's never been anywhere recently that hasn't looked like where we live so it will be a good experience for her. And for us. I was telling Royce last night about the song from the musical Mamma Mia called Slipping Through My Fingers. He was only half-listening... or I'm probably being too generous. He doesn't care about stories like that. So I just told him anyway. I'm not disappointed, everyone has their tuning out point. But the song goes at one part:
Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone, there's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
Well, some of that we did but most we didn't
And why, I just don't know
So that's the main reason we're going.
We have some plans, hiking a little (very little, she's not much of a hiker), Old Scottsdale, the Canyon. Tortilla Flat. I want to show her Jerome because I think she'll think it's cool. And Sedona. We're also going to take it easy the first couple of days because we want to hangout and I want to cook for my dad. I like to cook these days and I'm getting pretty good at it. I thought he'd like a really delicious, beautiful meal with some wine, to go along with the blues skies and sunshine.
We'll be heading back in about a week after that, riding home with my dad in his Forerunner. 3 days of driving, but I've done it many times with him over the years. I think this time we'll stop at some interesting places. Or not! I may be too anxious to get home. I'm going to miss the guys and our work.
I'm missing my friend, Jim, who died on New Years Eve, but feeling much better. The grief is lifting. It threw me for a little while, I have to admit. He's a old man, but a contemporary, a friend, a modern, busy person. He was still painting the day before he passed away. I wrote down the story of his last couple days and should probably put it here to remember. I wrote this to a neighbor of ours:
It happened January 31 in the morning. I'd been with him most of the weekend, hanging out, walking Fred, chatting, etc.. I took the day off work Saturday because I felt really off, like I just needed to be home.
I went to Jim's and he told me he didn't feel good because the day before he went to Roush to get salt, carried it and almost fell. He called his hospice nurse and he told me she said he'd had a small heart attack. She asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital and he said, "Not if I can help it." So, I chastised him for getting the salt in the first place, but you know, he wanted to be free. I understood that. I was gentle. I cleared his driveway of snow, and spread the salt.
He asked me if I was going to the store and I said, "of course I am :)." He asked me to get the dogs some chicken (Daisy doesn't like dog snacks, so he makes chicken for her and Fred). He said, "And I'm paying you back" to which I replied, "No, Jim, my dog eats the chicken, too."
He said, "Pat (a friend) tried to pay for my frames last week and I told him I'd wrestle him to the ground if he didn't take my money!" Well, I relented because I didn't want to be taken out by an 85 year old man.
I brought back the chicken, cleared the rest of the drive and he asked me if I had change for a $50 :). I didn't, so I went home. I think I walked Fred a little later, but don't remember.
I went over the next day and brought Jim some lasagna, and he looked pretty bad. He told me he'd gone out that morning to get Fred some food. I kept asking him why he didn't let me do that kind of stuff for him and he said that he had to do some things on his own. I know, I understand.
He'd been doing so, so well ~ So well, in fact, they were discussing taking him off hospice last week, but this day, it wasn't good. He said he didn't feel good. And then he handed me a $10 bill and a quarter for the chicken :). I told him I'd take Fred out, Steven was with me, and we took Fred and Daisy for a really long walk. When we got back, Matt was over and asked Steven if he would help clear the ice from the driveway. They did and I went home. Jim then told Steven to bring back a bag to me with my dishes in it, and that was it. I never spoke to him again.
The next morning about 6:20am I walked by his house and the lights were wrong, the backdoor one wasn't on, but I didn't stop because it was Matt's turn to walk him and I'd already stepped on his walking turn about 40 different times.. I also didn't want to wake them in case they were sleeping. I went home and showered. When I was in the shower I smelled a really strange smell, very rank and dense, it was so ominous. I got out to check on the kids, but when I got back in the shower it was gone. So, I got ready and started to drive to work and the cops were at Jim's house. I decided to stop and when I walked in the police wouldn't let me in the living room. Jim was on his sofa, he'd gotten up some time in the night and he died there. Matt had found him when he arrived to walk Fred.
Later I learned that Mary had been over at Jim's until about 9pm the evening before. He told her then that he thought "this was it." She thought about staying, but he just wanted to go to bed and Fred was pushing them out the door. When she left them, they were in bed.
I wonder what time they got up, but Matt couldn't tell. Jim was cold so it had been a little while. I wondered why he didn't call me, but he was so polite...
But, Jim was home when he died which is what he wanted, he was cared for by neighbors and friends and was never alone. He was eating really good food, and Fred was walked by friends; and up until that last day or so, Jim felt wonderful in some ways. He was overwhelmed by the care he was getting from friends. He said to me, "I just don't deserve it." I asked him, "Why do you say that?" He answered, "Because I'm a shit!" And I said to him that we're all shits :).
I think in the end though he got it. It wasn't about "deserving" love, it was just about love. He said to me a week or so ago, when looking at the dogs laying there in hopes of getting another piece of chicken, "When it comes down to it all there is left is love."
Amen.
Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone, there's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
Well, some of that we did but most we didn't
And why, I just don't know
So that's the main reason we're going.
We have some plans, hiking a little (very little, she's not much of a hiker), Old Scottsdale, the Canyon. Tortilla Flat. I want to show her Jerome because I think she'll think it's cool. And Sedona. We're also going to take it easy the first couple of days because we want to hangout and I want to cook for my dad. I like to cook these days and I'm getting pretty good at it. I thought he'd like a really delicious, beautiful meal with some wine, to go along with the blues skies and sunshine.
We'll be heading back in about a week after that, riding home with my dad in his Forerunner. 3 days of driving, but I've done it many times with him over the years. I think this time we'll stop at some interesting places. Or not! I may be too anxious to get home. I'm going to miss the guys and our work.
I'm missing my friend, Jim, who died on New Years Eve, but feeling much better. The grief is lifting. It threw me for a little while, I have to admit. He's a old man, but a contemporary, a friend, a modern, busy person. He was still painting the day before he passed away. I wrote down the story of his last couple days and should probably put it here to remember. I wrote this to a neighbor of ours:
It happened January 31 in the morning. I'd been with him most of the weekend, hanging out, walking Fred, chatting, etc.. I took the day off work Saturday because I felt really off, like I just needed to be home.
I went to Jim's and he told me he didn't feel good because the day before he went to Roush to get salt, carried it and almost fell. He called his hospice nurse and he told me she said he'd had a small heart attack. She asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital and he said, "Not if I can help it." So, I chastised him for getting the salt in the first place, but you know, he wanted to be free. I understood that. I was gentle. I cleared his driveway of snow, and spread the salt.
He asked me if I was going to the store and I said, "of course I am :)." He asked me to get the dogs some chicken (Daisy doesn't like dog snacks, so he makes chicken for her and Fred). He said, "And I'm paying you back" to which I replied, "No, Jim, my dog eats the chicken, too."
He said, "Pat (a friend) tried to pay for my frames last week and I told him I'd wrestle him to the ground if he didn't take my money!" Well, I relented because I didn't want to be taken out by an 85 year old man.
I brought back the chicken, cleared the rest of the drive and he asked me if I had change for a $50 :). I didn't, so I went home. I think I walked Fred a little later, but don't remember.
I went over the next day and brought Jim some lasagna, and he looked pretty bad. He told me he'd gone out that morning to get Fred some food. I kept asking him why he didn't let me do that kind of stuff for him and he said that he had to do some things on his own. I know, I understand.
He'd been doing so, so well ~ So well, in fact, they were discussing taking him off hospice last week, but this day, it wasn't good. He said he didn't feel good. And then he handed me a $10 bill and a quarter for the chicken :). I told him I'd take Fred out, Steven was with me, and we took Fred and Daisy for a really long walk. When we got back, Matt was over and asked Steven if he would help clear the ice from the driveway. They did and I went home. Jim then told Steven to bring back a bag to me with my dishes in it, and that was it. I never spoke to him again.
The next morning about 6:20am I walked by his house and the lights were wrong, the backdoor one wasn't on, but I didn't stop because it was Matt's turn to walk him and I'd already stepped on his walking turn about 40 different times.. I also didn't want to wake them in case they were sleeping. I went home and showered. When I was in the shower I smelled a really strange smell, very rank and dense, it was so ominous. I got out to check on the kids, but when I got back in the shower it was gone. So, I got ready and started to drive to work and the cops were at Jim's house. I decided to stop and when I walked in the police wouldn't let me in the living room. Jim was on his sofa, he'd gotten up some time in the night and he died there. Matt had found him when he arrived to walk Fred.
Later I learned that Mary had been over at Jim's until about 9pm the evening before. He told her then that he thought "this was it." She thought about staying, but he just wanted to go to bed and Fred was pushing them out the door. When she left them, they were in bed.
I wonder what time they got up, but Matt couldn't tell. Jim was cold so it had been a little while. I wondered why he didn't call me, but he was so polite...
But, Jim was home when he died which is what he wanted, he was cared for by neighbors and friends and was never alone. He was eating really good food, and Fred was walked by friends; and up until that last day or so, Jim felt wonderful in some ways. He was overwhelmed by the care he was getting from friends. He said to me, "I just don't deserve it." I asked him, "Why do you say that?" He answered, "Because I'm a shit!" And I said to him that we're all shits :).
I think in the end though he got it. It wasn't about "deserving" love, it was just about love. He said to me a week or so ago, when looking at the dogs laying there in hopes of getting another piece of chicken, "When it comes down to it all there is left is love."
Amen.
posted by SPOA | 9:25 AM
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