Monday, December 10, 2012

My iPhone has limitations but I hear the newest version is really wonderful. Yet, I find the limitations of the phone/camera about even with my current devotion to photography! 

A few years ago we spent a month with Emily our granddaughter who was 13, too young to be left at home alone. Our daughter Lia was going on a month long trip to Asia. When I was asked if we would come to Portland I immediately said yes, emphatically.
Enjoy the day, tomorrow will be different. Kids grow up. Grandpa's take a back seat to boy friends and husbands. That is how it should be.
But while we were there I took Emily to her voice lesson at the old Congregational Church in downtown Portland. I was awestruck by the wonderful woodwork and the pipe organ.
When I was in Portland this fall I made time Sunday Morning to attend the Sunday service. Of course I was anxious to listen to the Organ.
Alas, it was "Jazz Sunday" the pastor informed me, and while I like jazz, not nearly as much as I like good organ music, the jazz quartet made good music.
Later I visited with the Organist and promised him that I would again attend the next time I was in Portland on a Sunday morning.
The church was built in the 1890's. It is right downtown. As a wood worker I was really interested in all the wonderful wood work. The benches are all curved, the doors gothic arches. Hardwood floors, just a lot of wood, good wood, fabulous craftsmanship.
I was so glad that the wood they used was not Oak or Maple, which would have had to be shipped from the Eastern states. Instead it was local Douglas Fir, which, when used well is a wonderful wood.


I attended high school with John.

We were not in the same grade, and we were not there together very long. I graduated when John was a lower classmen.

Last time I talked to him, he reminded me that He still had a painting on his office wall that daughter 4 had painted when she was in high school (and he was on the faculty). He was the one with the big smile.

Tonight Daughter 1 tells me that John and I have a LOT in common.

John met his wife after high school and I have only known her as John's wife. She was a very sweet smiling lady with a ton of organizational skills.

But now John's dear wife has been placed in a home. Her AD has progressed to the point that John cannot care for her any longer.

When I see him again we will visit a bit about this horrible disease, but not too much.

Life is for the living, and while we will never forget our beloved wives, we have to care for ourselves and move on, wherever and whatever "on" is.