Leonard

This is a story about Miriam’s Dad Leonard.

Dad was in his early 70’s when this happened. He had been forced into early retirement by Parkinson's. There was not much in medications when he first got the disease and it went pretty fast. Later he got on some of the high powered meds, and it evened out a bit.

Dad and Marie lived in Boise 25 or so miles from us. Marie was a school teacher who was soon to change to nursing. She was very bright, graduated from high school at 12 or so, had finished a year or so of business college when she met Miriam’s dad. He was 35, she was 17.

His driving days were over, but he still rode an old single speed bicycle. He did not go far, and I don’t remember that there was a store close, but he would peddle around some any way.

There was a fireplace in the house and they still had some money from the sale of the orchard, but dad was an old woodsman. There was a dead tree in the neighborhood that just stood there intriguing Dad. The tree was not next door, but perhaps a quarter or a third of a mile away.

Finally he found out who owned it and asked if he could cut it down for the firewood. Permission was granted. The tree was on the edge of an empty space, not between houses, but it needed to be fallen in a certain place for reasons I do not remember.

The trusty chain saw was tied on the back of the bicycle and peddled over. Someone was watching him work. I do not remember who it was, but they told the story back to us.

The observer said that this old shaky guy gets off the bicycle and gets his saw out. Maybe the oddness of it all was what intrigued this person to watch, I don’t know. But he said to the family later that dad knew all of the tricks and he expertly dropped that tree exactly where he wanted it.

I am about the same age Leonard was when he did that. The main difference was that he had a truly nasty disease. Miriam’s oldest half brother has Parkinson's now. It is so sad to watch. Brother says that there were a lot of small orchards in the old days in that area, and that all of the old guys who farmed them have died of Parkinson's.

It took another ten or twelve years before dad died. It was not happy for him, nor for the family. But this day with the chainsaw and the bicycle, he pulled up the skills he had known as a young man in the oregon woods.

Another of those self portraits artists do.

crazy

“If we weren’t crazy we’d go insane” I think that is what the country singer whined.

In the AD world that is sure true. Being crazy is my biggest resource.

For a lot of my life I have identified myself to customers as “Crazy Dave.” In all of those times, no one has ever said: “No you aren’t crazy.” At the same time people drive down my street who don’t even know where I live and say: “That is Dave’s house!”

Say “Crazy Dave” and people who know nod in agreement.

So maybe being crazy is a good.

Today is that occasional day that is supposed to be bad luck or something. Today is not bad here, just cold. I had intended to pull the front door off the house for a bit to replace and repair the weather stripping, but it was below freezing with a 21 mph wind blowing, so I think I’ll let that part wait a bit.

I know I should have done it when it was warm, but I was busy then! Besides, I just decided how I wanted to do it. The thinking is what takes the time.

Ya gotta be crazy. . .

support

Today I went to an AD support group meeting.

I try to go every month, second Wednesday at 2.

There was about a dozen there today, including a college girl who was looking after her grandmother, and a mother, father and daughter. Father has AD, daughter and wife are deeply devoted to him.

We laugh a lot at those meetings, but it is little bit uneasy, those laughs. We listen a lot and some take more time than others, some have real problems that the rest of us have not come to yet.

Don is one of the coordinators. He had been married almost 60 some years, but his wife died last month. He was there, acting like he always does, but I could see that he was deeply grieving.

It is hard to be happy when every patient represented by the group is loosing a bit each month. Some a little, some quite a bit.

It is also hard to be really upbeat at times like that, but being downbeat has no advantage at all.

So we smile and act like we have everything under control.

deanna a long time ago

This is Deanna, a long time ago.
I have loved my kids from the beginning, and I do love that red hair.
Happy Birthday Deanna
For a later picture of Dea and Arline. http://arlinegriffithnash.blogspot.com/

Happy Birthday Deanna

Yesterday was Deanna’s Birthday.

She was thirty nine yet again, or as they say in another context: adult.

She has been a wonderful daughter. I loved her since I first knew she was on her way. In those days we did not have the option of learning the gender of our babies until they are actually born.

And, to make it more interesting, she was born exactly 10 ½ months after her sister. There is more than one way to get twins! Right now for the next month and a half, Deanna and Lora are the same age.

Happy birthday my dear. You have been a blessing.

plumbing

It started innocently enough. I had a bath tub drain that was plugged and I had two sheets of white low pressure laminate, the kind we make cabinet boxes out of.

I reported a few posts back about getting the tub drain cleared out. Once the drain was open, I brought the new cabinet I had just made, into the Utility and put it in place. There was a matching cabinet on the other side of the Washer, and while making one it was easy to make the other.

So yesterday I took the other old cabinet apart, threw the pieces out to go to land fill. My purpose was not too complex. I wanted to hook up that new utility sink I bought for this new cabinet.

The supply lines were in place, but not the drain, Hmm. So I took the panel off that covered all the plumbing on that wall. The drain was roughed in alright, and only needed an extension to work.

So I tried to turn off the water so I could disconnect the Washing Machine, and those valves that had not been opened in decades were corroded tight and nothing would move them.

By the time I got finished, I had new washer box, the one that holds the drain hose, as well as the two supply lines. There is a nice simple valve that opens and closes that water source all inside that little box.

A wile back our pastor went on an extended trip. While he was gone the washing machine hose ruptured and ran water for days all over his new house. The damage was huge. So I am going to try to remember to turn off the washing machine, and turn off the water heater when we go for a few days.

All of the new pipes are in, there does not seem to be any leaks. I found a couple fitting that had some corrosion (the house is plumbed in copper pipe), suggesting a little leak so I replaced them and all is well now.

Tomorrow I get to put it back together, mostly.

my aunt

The day I was born I had two aunts.

My father was the oldest child with his sister being next (followed by three more boys). My mom was the oldest child and her sister was born when mom was 12, one of those little sunrises!

I still have two aunts, seventy some years later.

Aunt Ruby is 93. When she had her 90th birthday party, she said it was her last party and her last year, that she would die before the next birthday, but she did not and now 3 and a half years later she is still with us.

I remember her as being full of energy, a person who never stopped doing something all the time (“it is against my nature to slow down” I remember her saying). She and her husband had a lot of rocks in their life, but had a lot of very devoted years at the end.

Uncle Chet (he was younger than Aunt Ruby and when they first started going together, I am told that my father, Ruby’s brother, did not like Chet any to much, and called him: “The Kid.”)

A few years ago Chet went to see the doc and they decided his arteries or veins or whatever it is that plugs up (remember I am an artist/craftsman and not remotely medical). Chet was otherwise very healthy, so they recommended a by pass surgery. It took a few months but that surgery killed Chet, and they were miserable months. There is a lesson there I think.

Before Chet had his surgery they had rented a suite in a retirement home. But Chet never actually lived there. Ruby has though. She enjoyed the retirement home as there was always people around to talk to. Some people like solitude and revel in aloneness, others are petrified of being alone, and Auntie is in the last category.

But at 93, she is not able to take care of herself as she should and did. So a week ago her son and daughter in law moved Ruby into their house.

Tom and Kathy’s house is the one that used to be Ruby’s house. Right after she sold it, they made a few changes and Ruby was not pleased, now some years later major changes have been made. I am not sure how she is adjusting to that.


But the biggest thing is that she is away from her friends.

Kathy is one of the most wonderful women in the whole world. Her heart is bigger than she is, and she has been a caregiver for many years (for pay!), so Ruby is well taken care of.

Tom is one of my favorite cousins (dare I say that when I am so bent against saying one of my daughters is a favorite -- I’ll try!). He is hard headed, opinionated, a total redneck, and one of favorite souls!

But I think the end is closer for Ruby than we might wish. She has often said that she just wanted to die and my guess is that being alone so much will increase those thoughts. Today Miriam and I will stop to see her for a bit. My sister will visit often. My other cousins won’t make it so often.

Ruby was my mom’s best friend before mom was introduced to Ruby’s brother, who became my father.

Mom loved Ruby like a sister, she has been a good aunt for a very long time.