David

Like most guys I have only had a few really close male friends.

In my case that list real short. I am told that if you are a guy and you have 2 or 3 really close friends, I mean really close friends, in your lifetime, you are somewhat unique. Wow. 

Tonight my friend David called and we visited for an hour. We led in a bible study group for close to 20 years. We camped together. We hiked in the desert together. 

In the church group, what I did not do David did and what he did I did not do and it was wonderful.  Sometimes, we would meet at the church for study and one of us would say (usually it was David) “Let’s do a potluck today, anyone have a house?”

We never were short of food, it was always great. 

Sometimes David would say: “Let’s go camping next weekend.” We would go. It might be 4 or 5 couples in all sorts of RV’s and it might be fewer, or more, but it was always great.

I guess it was that spontaneity that made the group and our leadership so unique. The church published a study guide, which we ignored, instead reading from the Big Book. If I could not be there, David would lead out. If we were both gone Lloyd would lead and if we were all gone together, those who were still there knew the chapter and knew what to do next, and they did. 

So, when I was there a few weeks ago the members kept telling me how much they missed the Dave and David days. 

The odds are not good of finding a real close friend like David (or Carl while we were in Texas). If it does happen, I fully intend to enjoy every moment. 

I like to photograph rocks, unless some one did not notice!

sleeping

Sleeping alone at night, not so much.  

Miriam cannot be left alone at any time now. She has trouble with balance, she has trouble with mobility.

But in the middle of the night, she gets up and silently moves around her sleeping space, putting things here and arranging things there. She has bathroom problems and solves them her way (which may not be daughters or husbands ways.)

So I put her to bed about 8 in the evening. I stay up and read if I wish (so she can see me) or I go to bed beside her. The miserable hide-a-bed has moved over and a decent queen bed has taken it’s place, so I can sleep with a good bit of comfort.

Sometimes she wakes me  up out of deep sleep with a wet diaper. Somethings she wakes me as she is struggling to go to the bathroom, sometimes with the residue of a bad dream, but I am there to help her. I may not get as much good sleep, but I am there to help her.

Family begins to stir about 5:30 or earlier sometimes and I can leave and go back to my little house. Sometimes I am quite rested and sometimes I am exhausted, but I have been with her and she was safe.

Nothing is perfect and what was pretty durned good is not so much so now, but it is still my heart felt duty to protect and help her. That is not offered with a grudging spirit, but with a long history of devotion and love (she would do as much or more for me, I remind myself).

I’ll be OK.

a what?

I had a vision the other day.

(When I mentioned this to a Bible Professor I know he gave me THE look. I suggest the word be taken in it’s largest, least specific definition!).

The voice said: “Dave.”  Yes. “You are going to have to drink all of this one, right down to the bottom of the cup.” Hmm, thought I.

“There will be no easy outs, no short cuts, nothing but the whole cup.”

Since I had been thinking about this as a possibility, my first guess is this had more to do with my thought process, and less with divine extension or even a mimic of Scrooge’s “undigested piece of beef.”

Still, the thought had entered my consciousness, somehow.

At first it was freeing, and offered a rest from my concern about all of this AD stuff, then depression set in (maybe forgetting to take my happy pills had something to do with that one) and the pendulum swung back to a degree of restfulness in it all.

Then, on reflection, I have to conclude that AD has been a pixel by pixel revelation through 14 long years. Of course, one could drown themselves in some sort of a mood enhancer (even if only temporary), or take it as it is.

Life is not bad. I share care with a daughter I adore. We work together well, so that no one is over worked and no one has to carry too much weight.

That vision thing was last week, and I am back to making peace with it all. As a realist of some sort, I suppose you might suggest that I have no real option but to accept, but I will politely ignore that logic and credit something more mysterious.

Or not. 

living alone

I have lived alone very little in my lifetime. 

Until this year, the only time I really lived alone was the summer after I was 18 when I was on a Forest Service fire lookout. That was in the top left corner of Montana. The closest neighbor was 7 miles away, by trail. 

It was a wonderful summer. I had a radio and could get Spokane radio stations. The FS had a radio and a telephone on the tower. The telephone worked among the 5 or 6 lookout towers and the headquarters station. Couldn’t call out if you wanted. The radio was for communication, and was used frequently. Here I have my cell phone, cable TV, decent internet and my local favorite NPR radio station. 

Talk about luxuries. 

This year is my 2nd stint of living alone. I know Miriam is still with me and I see her every day, but he does not sleep in my tiny house, and if I bring over it is for a visit and a meal. So, even though there is an asterisk involving a footnote, I live alone.

Mostly it is fine, and if I do get lonesome I can go in the big house and visit with Miriam or daughter or a grandkid or two. 

So, my 2nd bout of living alone is going quite well. 

Daughter's orchid; gold gold fish; Her loving hands; Her corner.

Once a long time ago someone repeated the line on the needlework. I tried to live by that one. 

grieving

I am going through pre-loss grieving.

For a bit I thought I thought that one up, but it is more common than I might wish, I guess.

As I write, I am sitting across from my beloved. She is asleep as she is most of the time now. Her jaw is slack, her eyes are sunken, her eyes are closed. She does not look alive really.

Yesterday we bought her a new bed, one that will be more comfortable for her and one that is comfortable enough for me so I can rest with her. When this is all over, I can take the bed to Idaho, maybe. 

I went to a wood wind concert last night (about 100 great collegiate musicians doing wonderful music). When I returned Miriam was in bed and Arline told me that she had been very upset, crying, even shouting at times. She was not married and “who are you?” When I got there, I took my shoes off and laid down beside her, snuggling under the other half of the top blanket.

“Who are you?” “I am David your husband of almost 57 years.” “I married you on June 10, 1956 and that we had been married ever since. “Then why has it been so long since you have been here?”

“I was with you all day today.” 

“Ohh.”

Finally, she settled down to sleep and I got an hour early sleep lying beside her. 

It was good and not so good at the same time.

The daughter who came the furthest informed the others that the purpose of the trip was to be with Dad. We had some good face time.

Friday I came down with a nasty cold, so I was barely conscious Saturday. Today I was up to somewhere in the 90 percentile There is nothing like being sick to appreciate health.

This after noon daughter 4 drove back to Portland, and tomorrow I take daughter 3 to the airport an hour away so she can fly back to SanFrancisco. It will just be us then.

They are concerned about their father, that he is healthy and yet does not seem to have a driving force right now (that is my diagnosis not theirs! Truthfully, just taking care of Miriam does not allow too much effort in thinking ahead.

"What is your biggest dream, dad" they asked. "Go over the top and list the big one."

Of course, that is a lot easier to talk about to some one else than to do for and to yourself, so I will work on it. To this point my head has asked: "When it is possible and permissible to think in the future?"

Daughters say it is now, I am not totally sure!

Today the daughters were all here. They are not sure how their mom will be in a few months, so they were intent on getting a photographer. Friend Elwin, who is an amazing chap, agreed to do the Portraits.  I am impressed. 

It was about noon and there was little shade. If you look at the top photograph, the sun is shining just a few inches past our toes!

These are wonderful woman, and their old daddy adores them.
The lower picture, by the way, was taken on the front porch of my little house. 

Cats?