Quick review of the last couple of weeks – I now have another baby in my life, twice a week. He’s not mine by blood but he's a sweetie and just a month shy of my seven month old granddaughter. He lives with his Mom and Dad on a quiet residential street filled with wondrous variety of tree and plant life. Vibrant colors every way you look, varying textures and an immensely pleasing variety of architecture as well. Our walks are always intriguing, always something I hadn’t noticed before.
With all my other obligations, my last two weeks have been insanely busy. Of course we saw Harry Potter on opening night. My daughter Piper is part of the generation that grew up with H.P. I mention this because it was big event for us. My children and I are from that crazy breed of folks who “line squat” for hours and hours – once even days! - before an event, concert or special movie. I purchased our tickets on-line weeks ago, but that only secured admission - not the seat. Piper has her favorite seat in the theater and for movies of this magnitude we get there early, WAAAYY early, so we can get that seat. Especially if we know 4 million other people want in at the same time. Normally, I take the first shift arriving in the wee hours of the a.m. but this time, because of a previous arranged obligation I couldn’t. Our tickets were for the 12:01 a.m. Friday showing. So Piper and a girlfriend arrived at the theater at 5:30 a.m. on Thursday. They clocked roughly 19 hours in line this time, and yes, they were first for our particular auditorium. But no, they weren’t first at the theater. There were about 18 people ahead of them. This has been our tradition for the last six Harry Potter movies. Crazy you say? Maybe, but we don’t mind one bit if people think us odd. We've created a lot of fun memories doing this sort of thing. It’s always great fun. You get to meet new people, other crazies and sometimes get to see some really great costumes. After the first 10 hours it always ends up looking like a temporary shelter for humanity after a natural disaster. People, some in jammies, line the floors and the walls and every possible space in between, their belongings – pillows, jackets, snacks, drinks, cards, books, items of amusement - clustered around them. Theater personnel did a fabulous job this time with their preparation for a crowd of this size. The previous year had been a nightmare! As far as the movie goes, I have to say, it was well done indeed. A few deviations from the book but for the better I think. We plan on seeing it again this weekend. Only this time without the long wait.
I've mentioned the older couple I've been friends with for quite a while now, that the husband has cancer and the wife has her physical struggles as well. Before I left to visit my children in June, the husband was still at home getting around with a walker, enduring chemo treatments with grace and patience. Just days after I left he took a turn for the worse and was hospitalized. His condition has deteriorated such that there is no coming home for Don. He was moved from the hospital to a facility a good three miles in the opposite direction of everywhere I need to be. My only way to get there is to walk after working or ride my daughter’s bike. If you read my post on the bicycle terror, you know how uncomfortable that is for me. Yeah I can do it, but I'm bruised. I procrastinated my first visit to him, I thought he had more time. Procrastinate stupid things, but don't ever procrastinate what is important. A dying friend is important. That's where I've been every evening - with the exception of Thursday night - Harry Potter - but I made sure he knew in advance I wouldn't be in that night. His condition is spiraling fast. His doctor has informed us his body is now shutting down system by system. He has weeks at most. The cancer has devoured his flesh at an alarming rate. He is skeletal and is so weak he can barely speak. He has begun to refuse food, even his favorites. He is in a hospice situation so no life supports will be attached. Up until tonight, each time I left him, all I could hope for was his relief. Tonight, at the close of our visit, he smiled "his" smile at me. I caught a glimpse of the old light in his eye and realized how much I miss him already - tonight it really, really hit me. I found myself on the edge of a crumbling crater that will be the void his absence will leave in my world. I cannot fathom how this must feel for his beloved wife of 62 years. Tonight there was no stopping the tears or the ache. Don is one of those spirits who create light and joy and fills all space around it. He refers to me as his "other daughter". With deepest humility and gratitude I accept this honor.
My friendship with Don and Marilyn - whom I also adore - began as a taxi service of sorts. They needed rides to doctor appointments (all kinds), pedicures, outings, the senior center for bingo and anything else you could think of. Their daughter worked full time, I had a car and the availability. The bishop of our church hooked us up. Don, a decorated WWII veteran had many stories to tell and I had fresh and eager ears. Marilyn had stories too, she was a nurse. Don's father was killed in an accident when Don was only six days old. He was raised by a hard working single mother during a time when that "condition" was frowned upon. She never remarried. He always had a unique understanding of my situation and that of my children. It was a joy to extend our outings and make them special by adding treats before we returned home. Dons favorite was KFC, Denny's, Wendy's Frosty's and See's Candies. Then I became their housekeeper. While I worked, Don followed me from room to room telling me stories and asking about my life and my children. On our first outing, I apologized for the lack of air conditioner in my car. He just smiled and said, "Well, we'll just have AC Mother Nature Style". This was very much his way. He sang Christmas songs whenever he felt like it and frequently did it with a little hop skippity move - even in his walker. He regularly ordered his favorite candy bar by the box fulls from Rite Aid. We made frequent trips to collect his "shipment" as he and the cashiers called it. He kept a bucket of Red Vines hidden from his wife and daughter - who knew where they were all along but didn't like them so would never touch them, but thought he was so cute with his "little secret" anyway - and he was. He had weekly chores to do and every day at 12:00 he was in front of the TV watching Perry Mason. He always had big smiles and the warmest of greetings for me - even if Perry Mason was on. After 60 some years he still held his wife's hand, opened doors for her and called her "Sweetheart" and "Precious". No matter what was going on with me personally, no matter how tired, frustrated, frightened or lonely I felt, he always lifted me, ALWAYS. These next week days or weeks or however much time we have are going to be very full for me. I don't know what to do with this ache.
With all my other obligations, my last two weeks have been insanely busy. Of course we saw Harry Potter on opening night. My daughter Piper is part of the generation that grew up with H.P. I mention this because it was big event for us. My children and I are from that crazy breed of folks who “line squat” for hours and hours – once even days! - before an event, concert or special movie. I purchased our tickets on-line weeks ago, but that only secured admission - not the seat. Piper has her favorite seat in the theater and for movies of this magnitude we get there early, WAAAYY early, so we can get that seat. Especially if we know 4 million other people want in at the same time. Normally, I take the first shift arriving in the wee hours of the a.m. but this time, because of a previous arranged obligation I couldn’t. Our tickets were for the 12:01 a.m. Friday showing. So Piper and a girlfriend arrived at the theater at 5:30 a.m. on Thursday. They clocked roughly 19 hours in line this time, and yes, they were first for our particular auditorium. But no, they weren’t first at the theater. There were about 18 people ahead of them. This has been our tradition for the last six Harry Potter movies. Crazy you say? Maybe, but we don’t mind one bit if people think us odd. We've created a lot of fun memories doing this sort of thing. It’s always great fun. You get to meet new people, other crazies and sometimes get to see some really great costumes. After the first 10 hours it always ends up looking like a temporary shelter for humanity after a natural disaster. People, some in jammies, line the floors and the walls and every possible space in between, their belongings – pillows, jackets, snacks, drinks, cards, books, items of amusement - clustered around them. Theater personnel did a fabulous job this time with their preparation for a crowd of this size. The previous year had been a nightmare! As far as the movie goes, I have to say, it was well done indeed. A few deviations from the book but for the better I think. We plan on seeing it again this weekend. Only this time without the long wait.
I've mentioned the older couple I've been friends with for quite a while now, that the husband has cancer and the wife has her physical struggles as well. Before I left to visit my children in June, the husband was still at home getting around with a walker, enduring chemo treatments with grace and patience. Just days after I left he took a turn for the worse and was hospitalized. His condition has deteriorated such that there is no coming home for Don. He was moved from the hospital to a facility a good three miles in the opposite direction of everywhere I need to be. My only way to get there is to walk after working or ride my daughter’s bike. If you read my post on the bicycle terror, you know how uncomfortable that is for me. Yeah I can do it, but I'm bruised. I procrastinated my first visit to him, I thought he had more time. Procrastinate stupid things, but don't ever procrastinate what is important. A dying friend is important. That's where I've been every evening - with the exception of Thursday night - Harry Potter - but I made sure he knew in advance I wouldn't be in that night. His condition is spiraling fast. His doctor has informed us his body is now shutting down system by system. He has weeks at most. The cancer has devoured his flesh at an alarming rate. He is skeletal and is so weak he can barely speak. He has begun to refuse food, even his favorites. He is in a hospice situation so no life supports will be attached. Up until tonight, each time I left him, all I could hope for was his relief. Tonight, at the close of our visit, he smiled "his" smile at me. I caught a glimpse of the old light in his eye and realized how much I miss him already - tonight it really, really hit me. I found myself on the edge of a crumbling crater that will be the void his absence will leave in my world. I cannot fathom how this must feel for his beloved wife of 62 years. Tonight there was no stopping the tears or the ache. Don is one of those spirits who create light and joy and fills all space around it. He refers to me as his "other daughter". With deepest humility and gratitude I accept this honor.
My friendship with Don and Marilyn - whom I also adore - began as a taxi service of sorts. They needed rides to doctor appointments (all kinds), pedicures, outings, the senior center for bingo and anything else you could think of. Their daughter worked full time, I had a car and the availability. The bishop of our church hooked us up. Don, a decorated WWII veteran had many stories to tell and I had fresh and eager ears. Marilyn had stories too, she was a nurse. Don's father was killed in an accident when Don was only six days old. He was raised by a hard working single mother during a time when that "condition" was frowned upon. She never remarried. He always had a unique understanding of my situation and that of my children. It was a joy to extend our outings and make them special by adding treats before we returned home. Dons favorite was KFC, Denny's, Wendy's Frosty's and See's Candies. Then I became their housekeeper. While I worked, Don followed me from room to room telling me stories and asking about my life and my children. On our first outing, I apologized for the lack of air conditioner in my car. He just smiled and said, "Well, we'll just have AC Mother Nature Style". This was very much his way. He sang Christmas songs whenever he felt like it and frequently did it with a little hop skippity move - even in his walker. He regularly ordered his favorite candy bar by the box fulls from Rite Aid. We made frequent trips to collect his "shipment" as he and the cashiers called it. He kept a bucket of Red Vines hidden from his wife and daughter - who knew where they were all along but didn't like them so would never touch them, but thought he was so cute with his "little secret" anyway - and he was. He had weekly chores to do and every day at 12:00 he was in front of the TV watching Perry Mason. He always had big smiles and the warmest of greetings for me - even if Perry Mason was on. After 60 some years he still held his wife's hand, opened doors for her and called her "Sweetheart" and "Precious". No matter what was going on with me personally, no matter how tired, frustrated, frightened or lonely I felt, he always lifted me, ALWAYS. These next week days or weeks or however much time we have are going to be very full for me. I don't know what to do with this ache.