Gratitude #83 - Sweet Biddies!
11 years ago
Saturday, December 29, 2007
shutting down
The nurse from Hospice came by to check on Jim.
Two weeks, maximum, he said. Jim stopped eating but still drinks some water. I am afraid Jim’s time has come.
Of course I am saddened by the impending loss of a dear and trustworthy friend, but I am also in awe that I was allowed to be a part of this last part of a good life. Dying is a pretty private matter, in so many ways, and I have been allowed to be experience this special time, with him.
Last night I read to him from Proverbs, held his hand, prayed with him and told him what a good life he had lived, and of how much we all loved him. He seems to have gotten peace from the words.
I come back to think of the wonderful part he played in getting Tom and Jackie home this week. On his death bed, he raised up and helped others. It will likely be his last, but what a testimony to a life well lived.
Jim, truly I have walked among the giants this week.
Two weeks, maximum, he said. Jim stopped eating but still drinks some water. I am afraid Jim’s time has come.
Of course I am saddened by the impending loss of a dear and trustworthy friend, but I am also in awe that I was allowed to be a part of this last part of a good life. Dying is a pretty private matter, in so many ways, and I have been allowed to be experience this special time, with him.
Last night I read to him from Proverbs, held his hand, prayed with him and told him what a good life he had lived, and of how much we all loved him. He seems to have gotten peace from the words.
I come back to think of the wonderful part he played in getting Tom and Jackie home this week. On his death bed, he raised up and helped others. It will likely be his last, but what a testimony to a life well lived.
Jim, truly I have walked among the giants this week.
Friday, December 28, 2007
tom and jackie
I was visiting with Jim last night when I got a call from Tom.
Tom is another of those people in my circle that I would do anything for. His car had broken down and he needed a pull. I casually asked if he was in my town or the next one over, where Tom actually lives.
He and his mother had driven 300 miles into Oregon for family Christmas, and their little Suzuki had given up the ghost about 115 miles from here. They had driven that little tin can 350,000 miles. It had been a good rig. Tom wanted to know the name and number of a man who owned a wrecker. I didn’t know, and neither did Jim.
So, I said: Call me back in a few minutes, or I’ll call you while I work on this. I asked Jim if his car hauling trailer was empty and available. (My trailer does not have night lights and is loaded to the hilt with firewood right now.)
Jim said his was at his son’s place, but son was snowmobiling in the mountains. But, Jim remembered Alvin had one. Alvin is an airplane owner partner of Jim’s. We called Alvin. He had a car dolly (two wheels that you load one end of the car on and the other end runs on it’s own wheels).
It would work, so I got up to leave to get the trailer (I had to go home first to get my Dodge pickup. Jim opened his tired eyes and said: “Why don’t you take my pickup?”
My Dodge is a single cab, 2 wheel drive. Jim’s Dodge is a double cab 4 door, 4 wheel drive, diesel. Tom and his mom are large people and for the three of us to ride in my pickup would have been very uncomfortable for the middle person, so I agreed.
I picked up the trailer. It had proper lights and other goodies. But before I left, Dot, Jim’s wife pushed a credit card into my hands. “Buy diesel with this.”
So I took off, full tank of diesel. It was just good and dark.
Tom was waiting outside a restaurant in a town so small they don’t even sell gasoline. He was cold, but not freezing (it was 28 degrees). We drove the 20 miles to where the car was stranded.
Mom is not in good health, but she is savvy. She wrapped in blankets and stuffed pillows around her and she had a little warm blooded dog to keep her company and warm her a bit.
This section of highway is isolated with not much traffic. The guy who drives the sanding/snow plow truck stopped. Others stopped to ask if she was OK and if she needed anything. They passed the message on to Tom at the restaurant that his mom was doing fine.
Before we got to where the car was, it began snowing HARD. I was glad to have Jim’s 4wd truck. We got the car loaded (I have never loaded one on this kind of a trailer before and I am mechanically challenged at times), tied down, the lights legally arranged and headed back in a heavy snow storm.
Tom’s mom was a bit cool, but she was warm in all of her clothes. The dog was fine too. They sat in the front passenger seat, and warmed up while Tom and I worked on getting the car loaded. it was snowing hard.
We made it back home without problems, thanks in no small part to that big Dodge with 4wd. I took them home about midnight and agreed we’d finish the details today, after 10!
I left Miriam with Dot and Jim. I didn’t want her to be home alone and I had no idea how long this might take. It was a good decision, though we had to dip to a bit of chicanery to get her to stay.
When I picked her up, the first thing she said is how good it was that I was at Jim’s when that phone call came. How Jim knew where a trailer was we could borrow and how it was so incredibly good of Jim, who lying on his death bed, to act so like the Jim I know and love, not just by loaning us his truck, but even paying for the fuel.
It was late when we got home, but I had to sit and decompress, to think and remember. I am going to loose Jim soon, and it will be one of the saddest days of my life.
I love you Jim for all the goodness you have shown to everyone in your life.
I really really will miss your goodness.
Tom is another of those people in my circle that I would do anything for. His car had broken down and he needed a pull. I casually asked if he was in my town or the next one over, where Tom actually lives.
He and his mother had driven 300 miles into Oregon for family Christmas, and their little Suzuki had given up the ghost about 115 miles from here. They had driven that little tin can 350,000 miles. It had been a good rig. Tom wanted to know the name and number of a man who owned a wrecker. I didn’t know, and neither did Jim.
So, I said: Call me back in a few minutes, or I’ll call you while I work on this. I asked Jim if his car hauling trailer was empty and available. (My trailer does not have night lights and is loaded to the hilt with firewood right now.)
Jim said his was at his son’s place, but son was snowmobiling in the mountains. But, Jim remembered Alvin had one. Alvin is an airplane owner partner of Jim’s. We called Alvin. He had a car dolly (two wheels that you load one end of the car on and the other end runs on it’s own wheels).
It would work, so I got up to leave to get the trailer (I had to go home first to get my Dodge pickup. Jim opened his tired eyes and said: “Why don’t you take my pickup?”
My Dodge is a single cab, 2 wheel drive. Jim’s Dodge is a double cab 4 door, 4 wheel drive, diesel. Tom and his mom are large people and for the three of us to ride in my pickup would have been very uncomfortable for the middle person, so I agreed.
I picked up the trailer. It had proper lights and other goodies. But before I left, Dot, Jim’s wife pushed a credit card into my hands. “Buy diesel with this.”
So I took off, full tank of diesel. It was just good and dark.
Tom was waiting outside a restaurant in a town so small they don’t even sell gasoline. He was cold, but not freezing (it was 28 degrees). We drove the 20 miles to where the car was stranded.
Mom is not in good health, but she is savvy. She wrapped in blankets and stuffed pillows around her and she had a little warm blooded dog to keep her company and warm her a bit.
This section of highway is isolated with not much traffic. The guy who drives the sanding/snow plow truck stopped. Others stopped to ask if she was OK and if she needed anything. They passed the message on to Tom at the restaurant that his mom was doing fine.
Before we got to where the car was, it began snowing HARD. I was glad to have Jim’s 4wd truck. We got the car loaded (I have never loaded one on this kind of a trailer before and I am mechanically challenged at times), tied down, the lights legally arranged and headed back in a heavy snow storm.
Tom’s mom was a bit cool, but she was warm in all of her clothes. The dog was fine too. They sat in the front passenger seat, and warmed up while Tom and I worked on getting the car loaded. it was snowing hard.
We made it back home without problems, thanks in no small part to that big Dodge with 4wd. I took them home about midnight and agreed we’d finish the details today, after 10!
I left Miriam with Dot and Jim. I didn’t want her to be home alone and I had no idea how long this might take. It was a good decision, though we had to dip to a bit of chicanery to get her to stay.
When I picked her up, the first thing she said is how good it was that I was at Jim’s when that phone call came. How Jim knew where a trailer was we could borrow and how it was so incredibly good of Jim, who lying on his death bed, to act so like the Jim I know and love, not just by loaning us his truck, but even paying for the fuel.
It was late when we got home, but I had to sit and decompress, to think and remember. I am going to loose Jim soon, and it will be one of the saddest days of my life.
I love you Jim for all the goodness you have shown to everyone in your life.
I really really will miss your goodness.
needlepoint
Quite a few years ago, one of my kids bought their mother a needlepoint kit.
It was after Miriam was diagnosed with Alz, and they were looking for a creative outlet.
Miriam woud take the project with her when she went with me on tile jobs. She would sit in the truck on good days, or come inside the job on bad weather days. I always carried a comfortable chair for her in my work trailer, but since most of our work was remodel work, she would often sit with the customer and talk of children and grandchildren.
We were not sure she would ever finish it, but we decided that we would give it great respect if and when she did. And, should it not be finished, we would still frame it well.
Well, one day she did finish the project, including a few changes here and there. We bought a cheap frame (she would hear of nothing else), and it hangs in our entry hall.
It is a testament to a good design and a very truthful phrase (that was part of the kit), but it is also the tribute to a great artist, who found even this to be a long time project. Score another win for damned Alz.
If only I could display the wonderful paintings she did, so well for so long, but alas they are all gone, I still weap.
But, I am so glad to display this picture in our house. Even though we are both educated as artists and have done tons of art of all kinds, there is precious little of it on display in our house. It is just the way we do things.
Rats.
It was after Miriam was diagnosed with Alz, and they were looking for a creative outlet.
Miriam woud take the project with her when she went with me on tile jobs. She would sit in the truck on good days, or come inside the job on bad weather days. I always carried a comfortable chair for her in my work trailer, but since most of our work was remodel work, she would often sit with the customer and talk of children and grandchildren.
We were not sure she would ever finish it, but we decided that we would give it great respect if and when she did. And, should it not be finished, we would still frame it well.
Well, one day she did finish the project, including a few changes here and there. We bought a cheap frame (she would hear of nothing else), and it hangs in our entry hall.
It is a testament to a good design and a very truthful phrase (that was part of the kit), but it is also the tribute to a great artist, who found even this to be a long time project. Score another win for damned Alz.
If only I could display the wonderful paintings she did, so well for so long, but alas they are all gone, I still weap.
But, I am so glad to display this picture in our house. Even though we are both educated as artists and have done tons of art of all kinds, there is precious little of it on display in our house. It is just the way we do things.
Rats.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
christmas day
Christmas day was good.
We were alone for the day, but not alone either.
I fixed breakfast of cornbread and granola from one of our daughters, we lazed around, opened out presents and enjoyed each others company.
Then we went to see Jim. There was a dinner scheduled at his son’s house and Jim was too weak and tired to go. Dot wanted to go, so I offered for us to stay with Jim while Dot went to the family dinner.
We stayed a couple of hours until Jim’s baby brother came by to take over.
Earlier I had accepted an invite to friends house for dinner, even though I really wanted to be alone with Miriam. I was going to try to get out of the invite, but Jim told me go, so we went.
We had a good meal and a good time. I am glad we went.
But somewhere alone during the day or evening, I was struck quietly and silently by the silence of being alone. We are an artist family and we don’t mind spending huge quantities of time alone, but this time it was different.
I suddenly wanted to hug a grandchild or three, to feel the love of my beautiful daughters, to hug a son in law. It was good, and so lonely at the same time.
That mood didn’t last too long, but it cut deep for a tiny bit.
Dear family: I love you and I bask in your love. Thanks for being such a wonderful family.
We were alone for the day, but not alone either.
I fixed breakfast of cornbread and granola from one of our daughters, we lazed around, opened out presents and enjoyed each others company.
Then we went to see Jim. There was a dinner scheduled at his son’s house and Jim was too weak and tired to go. Dot wanted to go, so I offered for us to stay with Jim while Dot went to the family dinner.
We stayed a couple of hours until Jim’s baby brother came by to take over.
Earlier I had accepted an invite to friends house for dinner, even though I really wanted to be alone with Miriam. I was going to try to get out of the invite, but Jim told me go, so we went.
We had a good meal and a good time. I am glad we went.
But somewhere alone during the day or evening, I was struck quietly and silently by the silence of being alone. We are an artist family and we don’t mind spending huge quantities of time alone, but this time it was different.
I suddenly wanted to hug a grandchild or three, to feel the love of my beautiful daughters, to hug a son in law. It was good, and so lonely at the same time.
That mood didn’t last too long, but it cut deep for a tiny bit.
Dear family: I love you and I bask in your love. Thanks for being such a wonderful family.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
christmas morning
Christmas morning.
The first christmas in 52 that just the two of us have been together. It is OK, we like each other’s company.
We opened our presents this morning. Good solid home made stuff for the most part, along with a couple boxes of “hand crafted chocolates” but daughter 4 works for the chocolate company!
I am reminded of how important family is. Our family is fairly small, but as I sit here waiting for the cornbread to come out of the oven, I get to thinking.
As old men do, I remember the years when my kids were small. How they would climb out of bed and come and sit on my lap or besides me in the mornings. Those memories are so special. This morning I wish I could hug those 3 and 4 year olds yet again.
And as I sit here I remember wonderful times with our grand kids.
Then I remember back further to christmas days with my parents and grandparents, when the girls were small. We lost both generations of my family in less than a decade, but those were the good days in so many ways, except we were so broke.
I sent a christmas email to my daughters a bit ago, and I know they will appreciate it, but it is not like hugging them once again, and wishing them merry christmas. I miss my girls so much at times like this.
Bless you my daughters for the joy you have brought an old man. May your kind prosper.
The first christmas in 52 that just the two of us have been together. It is OK, we like each other’s company.
We opened our presents this morning. Good solid home made stuff for the most part, along with a couple boxes of “hand crafted chocolates” but daughter 4 works for the chocolate company!
I am reminded of how important family is. Our family is fairly small, but as I sit here waiting for the cornbread to come out of the oven, I get to thinking.
As old men do, I remember the years when my kids were small. How they would climb out of bed and come and sit on my lap or besides me in the mornings. Those memories are so special. This morning I wish I could hug those 3 and 4 year olds yet again.
And as I sit here I remember wonderful times with our grand kids.
Then I remember back further to christmas days with my parents and grandparents, when the girls were small. We lost both generations of my family in less than a decade, but those were the good days in so many ways, except we were so broke.
I sent a christmas email to my daughters a bit ago, and I know they will appreciate it, but it is not like hugging them once again, and wishing them merry christmas. I miss my girls so much at times like this.
Bless you my daughters for the joy you have brought an old man. May your kind prosper.
Monday, December 24, 2007
merry christmas all
Tis the day before Christmas.
In my house it is a day of quiet. We will visit Jim today, but for a shorter time than yesterday. His wife Dot retired last week.
I will fix my darling breakfast, and later as good a dinner as my skills allow, but it will be a quiet day. We will crack the last of the three bags of walnuts that our neighbor gave us, we may go for a walk in the snow, but it will be quiet.
This year the family was all together in July for grandson David’s marriage to sweet Mandy. Next christmas all of us will dock at our oldest daughters house and have a suitable noisy celebration. We will take our travel trailer up earlier (to avoid potential icy roads), and have our own little bit of quiet.
But this year we are home alone. Don’t get me wrong and don’t feel sorry for us. I find myself enjoying quiet more. I suppose my life, which involved a good bit of noise making (i.e. machinery), is balanced by my love of solitude and quiet.
To each of you who lost loved ones this year, my condolence for your losses. The rest of us have our turns coming up some time, maybe soon, maybe late. But may the good memories of your loved one never fade.
Merry Christmas to each and every one of you.
You are loved.
In my house it is a day of quiet. We will visit Jim today, but for a shorter time than yesterday. His wife Dot retired last week.
I will fix my darling breakfast, and later as good a dinner as my skills allow, but it will be a quiet day. We will crack the last of the three bags of walnuts that our neighbor gave us, we may go for a walk in the snow, but it will be quiet.
This year the family was all together in July for grandson David’s marriage to sweet Mandy. Next christmas all of us will dock at our oldest daughters house and have a suitable noisy celebration. We will take our travel trailer up earlier (to avoid potential icy roads), and have our own little bit of quiet.
But this year we are home alone. Don’t get me wrong and don’t feel sorry for us. I find myself enjoying quiet more. I suppose my life, which involved a good bit of noise making (i.e. machinery), is balanced by my love of solitude and quiet.
To each of you who lost loved ones this year, my condolence for your losses. The rest of us have our turns coming up some time, maybe soon, maybe late. But may the good memories of your loved one never fade.
Merry Christmas to each and every one of you.
You are loved.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
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