for a good laugh

For the most challenging of tasks I had to tackle tonight, it was the opening of the cough syrup bottle. What normally takes 20 seconds took almost 30 minutes. I had to pry the bottle with the scissors some, placed it in the dishpan , in a glass of warm water and even used one of the rubber jar grips. I even as I was trying to unscrew the cap, took the skin from my hand and even the prescription label came off. Definitely child proof and even adult proof. so much for trying this at 11;30 at night.

Awaiting for the next sunrise to appear

When my mom, and brother and I gathered in the hospice room for the final few days of my dad's life, she recalled how dad once estimated my dad's knack of knowing one of his nurse's age. She leaned over to her as she was learning how to smash pills in ice cream and said, "you must be 42 years old.: Mom recalled of how everyone on the geriatrics floor laughed. As mom says, "once a numbers man, always a numbers man.: And another instance was when dad had a final dream of being surrounded by a group of 18 men in long white robes.

Dad, you did your math well with the games of gin and with the plopping in of the balls in the game of pool.

And you did a real good job in helping me map my way through the federal tax maze. I remember when you went away from the phone to research issues that I brought up before you.

When I look back at the final couple days at the hospice, I recall looking at the picture on the wall and seeing the aqua and the burnt yellow of the walls-nice earth tones. Just like the earth tones that we had in our kitchen that we ate our oatmeal breakfasts.
After the first day of visiting with dad, mom turned on the light inside of dad's room 305 to light it up. As we left the parking light, we saw the light from his room glowing. It was comforting to us to see that.

On the final time of our visit, we ate at Tim Hortons which was one of my fathers favorite places to grab a meal for under $20,00 for three people. Mom recalled how Dad loved the chicken salad sandwich, the chicken noodle soup and the old fashioned sugar donut and a hot apple cider. I really enjoyed eating and sipping on the soup which had bow tie pastas in it and broth had a gentle seasoning in it. The chicken was dressed with just the right amount of dressing that had a piquant taste to it. And the old fashioned sugared donut had just the right amount of coating of sweetness to it and the hot cider was soothing as i swallowed it.

when we spent the last afternoon in dad's room, I sat by his bedside and shared how I had his favorite meal as I spoke to him. Mom and Randy thought that was cute how I spoke to my dad and how he probably wondered why I was talking about food especially with my dad not eating for the last couple of weeks. My dad was a strong man and hung in there for the arrival of his family.
When I looked at my father's hand, it impressed me that his wedding ring was still on his hand and mom said that has never come off in their 61 years of marriage and that he would be cremated with the ring on his finger. That is a commitment marked to the tee.

After sharing of this lunch, I spent some moments alone with dad saying how i would miss him and I would be fine without him. Randy had shared earlier. I told him it was okay for him to take his trip and send an email back to me from his new destination.I told dad,"of course mom will give you her final okay to go on." As the nurse came in a few minutes later to take a look at dad, one of the final signs that was in the hospice book was apparent when he released some output. When i shared that with mom , she knew that it was probably a matter of a day or so. When I was sitting having lunch, we got a call about 12:10 from the hospice in which they said, "dad died at 11:55 a.m. on November 5th. I threaded the visit just in the knick of time.

At least this bedroom will not change forever and he won't need a guard outside!!!

I still miss you papa but I am plugging along as you told me in a previous conversation as I stood in my lobby at work to share my life with you. Thanks for the final words-not realizing then that they were.

Now no resemblances of my face to share when I was next to you. But you are still 50 Percent of my makeup and complexion and personality.

I am glad that there was a little delay in your taking of your journey. Thi

Taking a turn for the worse.

Looks like the hand to this game is not turning out as I hoped it would. Lots of high cards in the deck of gin. The curtain is about to close on my father's stage and the memories will have to live on.

Getting his bags packed.

This evening when I spoke to my mom on the phone, she provided another spark of humor that my dad distributed to the nurse at the hospice. Dad told her clearly that he was getting his bags packed for a trip and then became silent again. I wonder what dad must be packing for this trip when he leaves earth. For one would need an awful lot of stuff for such a long time.

Dad has lived a simple life and would not want a lot of fluff and flavor paid to him.
When I chatted with mom tonight, she recalled of the joys of the lobster party being crowded in the tent and how dad ate 10 shrimp appetizers, ate the lobsters and sucked out the meat from the claws and even ate his corn and my mom's corn on the cob. He had an appetite at his last big party and he always did when we ate at the table.

So no more big meals with dad at the table but have done so for many years. Only wish that I treasured them more. I should cherish times spent with friends more and I pray these words will help others establish a close bond to their loved ones as well.


At least no weight restriction on baggage. Probably wants to make sure he has enough underwear in case the laundry facilities get very busy in heaven.

Dad makes a mean bowl of oatmeal which is what I had most mornings before heading off to school. I remember him stirring the pot with the wooden spoon and tapping it on the side of the pan. And placing the spoon on the white side plate.

Gods signs

I awoke this morning and asked God to provide me with a sign of His Presence. I sat at my desk and saw a red lady bug at the edge of my desk. I put it in a coffee cup and saw it crawl around in it. Let it crawl on my hand for a few moments.
Then I placed it in the cup and put Kleenex over it. when I removed the cover, I did not see her in the cup.


I left work this evening and saw a rainbow across the sky faintly.

I was reminded by a friend, Kelly, to hang in there. Then I thought of life being a jungle gym. I sure have to hang in there. Sometimes higher up and sometimes low to the ground. There are many colored bars to this jungle gym that I am part of in this playground of life!!!

It is not an easy day for me as I found out my dad is terminal and is at Hospice Care. But I am glad that he will live out the last few months in dignity even though he won't be able to see the ocean directly.

lIfe is difficult for sure. Others have it worse.

Ode to passing by the Fog

Life takes its turns and passageways.
Hard to guide through one's paths
unless under the steady hand of a father and a son.
Lord, you are my father and always be.
As my dad is imperfect and has nooks and crannies of pain.

Lord, remove and clear out those nooks and crannies

Replace them with your grace and love.

Lord, give a chance to whisper into my papas ear before he says goodbye.

Let me tell him that I love him and always will.

Thanks for letting him guide me through the seas of life and to drive on the open seas.

Lord, bless our remaining time together and apart.

Mystery and intrigue

This is the month of the intrigue and this is the 400th post to this blog. Our memoir group along with the rest of Bridgeport and Shelton are reading The Maltese Falcon. Honestly, I am not into the detective story or crime shows on television. I always have trouble finding the plot and figuring out who did it. My mom loves to watch those detective series and movies and have watched many of them during My Maine vacations somewhat intrigued by the dialogue and the adventures of the detectives.

When I was growing up, every few months, I discovered that one of my black socks did not have a mate in my white dresser drawer. Did he or she run off and sneak through one of the holes in the washing machine or dryer. I never quite could figure that one out. Currently I have about a dozen mismatched socks and often run out of the house in the morning wearing some of them together.

When I walk through my life, I am amazed at how my body operates in such a regular rhythymn in my getting up automatically at night and am able to move from point A to point B almost by instinct. The intricacies that are built into our human bodies with all of the systems working in sync with each other. It is amazing to be alive and am taken back occasionally in my being aware of the complexity of it and to be present in an universe that has been created in the same way by our designer. Yet only being slightly aware of how it all works behind the scenes.

In the last few years, I have seen the frailty of life as my dad has traveled through the health care system in Maine using all of the health care components at Piper Shores from the independent apartment to assisted living and now onto the skilled nursing floor and several visits to the hospital.

I wish that I understood exactly what the key is to this puzzle of life in the brain. I myself did not start out with a full deck of neurons . Yet through the patience of my mom and specialists, we discovered ways that I could make sense of the world. It took patience and perseverance to match the different pieces of the jigsaw puzzle. We separated the edges of the puzzle and matched them up and then found patterns, grouped them together and linked the pieces together. Forming a completed image from the top of the puzzle box.

I wonder why some like my dad have neurons that get tangled and reality and daily existence don't have the same rhythm that they used to. That is the nature of dementia. I have witnessed and seen the decline that happens as the natural way of living gets replaced with a dependency and a reliance of others. Roles get reversed and spouses turn into caregivers and life revolves around the solving of problems and issues and less time for the cultivating of the heart. The glimpses of humor and life that used to flow are now replaced by a trickle, a small current of water to be savored in this dry and arid land.

I sure wish that I could bring a fellow like Sam Spade along with me to Piper Shores on Happy Monday and have him travel along our path and point out clues to us to solve our medical problems and mysteries. They are ongoing and constantly changing. Not like Sam's mysteries that involve dead bodies and misplaced love.

Yet amidst this backdrop of understanding the brain, I am grateful to know that God has orchestrated the world in such a way to give me a sense of awe and wonder. I look out at the vastness of space and also at the vastness of the oceans in Maine. I don't see an end to either of them. It would take eons to travel them to the very heights and to their very depths. And discoveries are made every year as to how infinite they are. Being reached with precision by rockets and by submersible boats.

I am thankful to have part of some mysteries such as the northern lights over our Maine cottage. Dad called to mom and I and said," come out and look at the sky." I sat on the stairs with mom and dad and we looked to the sky. We saw thirty minutes of flashing and pulsating yellows and reds and oranges and blues circulating through the sky. We were amazed and full of awe as we witnessed this. Mom and Dad and I did not talk much during this display but listened as the heavens declared glory and beauty to this rare invitation of life along with the sound of the dancing crickets.

The way that life unfolds as a mystery is a lot like a deck of cards that gets played in a hand of gin. I can not see the faces of my dad's cards as he can't see mine. All I see at best are the cards that get discarded, only passing fragments that get shown briefly and then get lost in my memory as the game gets played. Life takes chance and risk to choose the right card and discard the wrong one. Yet the paths that get taken from the same 52 cards are different in each and every game. That is the most fascinating aspect of the game of gin and that journey for me started at the edge of my hospital bed 33 years ago.

I appreciate the quiet aspect of that game along with the few words of wisdom that get handed to me during it. I like the fact that I only have to hold 10 cards and not all 52. I like the fact that I can share the deck with dad and travel through several hands towards the score of 100. The last time I played, dad abridged Hoyle's rules to have a game consist of one hand. Easier to endure and enjoy. Yet, don't tell Hoyle that. At the end of the game, the cards get placed back into the box and put in a drawer. Having tallied up our wins in the ongoing scoreboard of life.

Mysteries are there for us to enjoy and ponder. Life would not be too much fun if they were easy. Wrestling and struggling for the answers can be downright agonizing for me. Yet, I experience joy every time as I look back at my filled squares to a double crostic or cryptogram and see that I solved the puzzle. Yet there are those times that I walk away from some unable to make heads or tails out of the puzzle clues given being frustrated but I knew that I took a stab at them.

So off I go on the adventure of this life. Not knowing what I will face. But willing to take a risk and knock with 6 as ten minutes have passed in the game of gin. Awaiting for my dad's matched cards to be laid down alongside mine and for him to smile as he matches his remaining cards to mine. And for him to lay down the two of clubs. Underknocking me resulting in a score of 29. So it's added up to another win. And for the next game to commence in this lifelong tournament of love and gin.

God Needed to Rest!!!!

It is a calm and restless in this abyss. God walks around and sees that there is no flashlight in his hand. "Oops, I left it at my workshop bench."

How empty is this is pre-existent universe that we can not even see. For I am not God;I have no way of seeing an instant replay of what it was like before. I do have some idea if I wander around in a dark place, holding onto whatever I can find so I don't fall or ask for the help of a friend's hand.

Yet, here is God in the vastness of pre-space. He calls out, "Hey, let there be light!!!! Sorry, Edison, but God beat you to it!!!!!!


To be Continued.... for I need rest!!!!
feel free to comment on this thread.

Record tied!!!

Tonight I watched live on t.v. as Derek Jeter got his 2,721st hit of the career tying Lou Gehrig. Those two men in the same sentence. What historic accomplishments. And on a day with all 9's ;09-09-09
I remember when it was 07-07-07 and i was in Maine and went to the Boothbay Harbor YMCA for a swim. That was quite a long time ago.

Listening to the cicadas

I am here listening to the cicadas and I know it is half-past one. They are one verbal and vocal reminder of God's urban spokesmen for the evening shift. It is good to listen to and hear their sounds. Of the orchestral quality of these stringed instruments.
Can't you imagine them lining up on the stage before a classical music concert and the first cicada gets up and clears his throat and spreads his wings and then sits down. To continue to play beautiful music.

Surrounded by the presence of God in my being contacted by a christian man reminding me of a breakfast that was happening and offering a ride to it, And by a christian woman just checking in to see how family was doing and to see what was new.

Being encouraged to go to www.saddleback.com to listen to an online service. Being blessed on hearing of the authority of Jesus.

And of being encouraged by a high school alumna who was impressed of how I handled it all with courage and wanted to know what was up. Had the chance to share with her a bit. And that gave me a chance to see how far I have come in my life as well.

So I thank you Lord for how I can listen to your orchestra and to see how you orchestrate the little events in my life as well.
Especially when I sometimes think that you are one thousand miles away when you are only 10 feet in front of my bedroom window.

Now I lay my head back on the pillow to hear the rest of God's opus no 92.
Thank you Lord!!!!!!