Sorry about that last post. I wasn't really trying to be dramatic or anything, I just couldn't find words to say anything else. One of my former co-workers had a car wreck last Saturday night, and he was missing until his body was found (still in the car) Monday by another co-worker. He had gone off the road after hitting a puddle in rain and fog on his way home. Not certain exactly how old he was, but not more than 25. The whole thing is awful in so many ways and I haven't really found the energy to post since. I've been here several times, teed up and ready, but nothing would come. No insights or ruminations or remembrances- nothing. Just profound sadness and an odd feeling of disconnection from my friends. So yeah. I guess I'm back.
My parents were here for the week, and we did loads of fun touristy things. I took them to the Shelburne Museum, Neb and Jerry's, the cider mill, and several restaurants. We went to Montreal on Monday, which was very beautiful but the weather wasn't great (neither, apparently, is my father's ability to read a map or my mother's ability to operate a GPS) so we spent a lot of time in the car. There is a huge outdoor market where we got crepes and pastries (I had one made with dates that nearly brought tears to my eyes), and walked around feeling quite foreign. I knew that Montreal was largely French-speaking, but never having been anywhere out of the country (except for a ghastly two hours in Tijuana that I wish never to repeat) so I've never been in the lingual minority before. My podcast language lessons have lapsed, to put it mildly, so the only words I was able to understand were please, thank you, and most of the food words. I'm not sure how comfortable I would feel spending a long period of time this way, but for one day it was really cool. I'll post some pictures in a bit.
My parents departed for the Cape on Friday morning, and I have basically been either at work or asleep since. I'm off this evening, though, and hoping to spend some quality time with the b.h.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Monday, October 05, 2009
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Reunited And It Feels So Good (by which I mean "A Lot Like Indigestion").
The b.h. and I spent a few days last week at his bi-annual B.H. Family Reunion. Every other year, the b.h.'s dad and dad's brothers (he has three) get the whole family together for a week. They take turns choosing a location, and then the group pays for lodging and we all pay for our own transportation, food, etc. Since the b.h. and I have been together, trips have included Branson, M1ssour1 (the "Redneck Riviera", a trip which the b.h. and I were regrettably unable to attend), St. Sim0n's Island, GA, (we were there for thirty six hours and drove five and a half each way), and The Adirondacks, in upstate New York (we missed that one due to financial distress brought on by a car trouble/emergency vet visit double-whammy). This year, the B.H. Clan converged on the mountains outside B00ne, North Car0lina, at a "Wilderness Cabin." You may have noticed that I used that phrase in quotes. I did that on purpose. If I had any idea how to find the key which would insert a trademark symbol into the sentence, I would have. But my technological prowess is simply lacking, so you will all be forced to use your imaginations (as I was when I was confronted with the "Wilderness Lodge" itself).
We were intending to leave on Sunday, but our dog-sitter was in Charlest0n at the Hold Steady show, so we waited to go on Monday. On Monday, I woke up and went to the hair salon. I had done much of the packing the night before and the b.h. would finish up while I was chatting with Shayne and trying to get the rest of the blasted red undertones out of my hair. The hair salon was fun and relaxed, and when I got back to the house I felt ready to face both the long drive and the twenty some people that would be waiting at the end of it.
When I returned home, I found that although everything was essentially ready, we had been asked to go to the b.h.'s parents' house before leaving town to check on the resident felines. "Didn't they just leave?" Yes, but the b.h.'s mom wasn't sure if she had left enough food out for them, and they had planned on somebody checking in on Wednesday, but now they weren't sure if the person could make it, etc. "Can't we just go over there when we get back on Wednesday?" No. The b.h. had got the feeling that his mom may have "forgotten something, but didn't want to admit it." Well, so be it then. We would simply be adding an extra forty minutes on to our five hour drive.
It turned out that the cats were fine- plenty of food, water, etc. When I talked to the b.h.'s mom later, she said that she just "had a bad feeling" that something had gotten skipped - an iron left on, a door left unlocked, or some such. A brilliant woman, she is, but like many of us, her brain is often full and she therefore has tendencies toward a certain kind of flightiness (one that Hey Bartender can *assure* you that she is *never* guilty of. Cough. Cough.).
Holy shit I just referred to myself in the third person. Oh well. I guess it was only a matter of time.
Anyway, the drive was pleasant enough. The b.h. and I were both tired, so we had to stop more often than we would have liked in order to obtain more caffeine and get our blood moving. One of the reasons why I prefer driving at night is that I get very sleepy when I'm in the sun. In the car, with the air-conditioning blowing, one half of my body was freezing, while the half in the sun felt like it was on fire. I wanted to curl up in the window and take a cat nap. Inadvisable, I have been told, while driving.
We had printed out directions using g00gle maps (M@pquest has done us wrong too many times), and all was well. The gas got cheaper the farther we went, which was a pleasant surprise. The b.h.'s mom called us when we were just outside Charlotte. We told her where we were and assured her that we had directions. When we pulled up the The Wilderness Lodge, the b.h.'s mom was waiting on the front porch for us. I got the feeling that she might have been there since we had hung up with her an hour and a half before. Once inside, I realized why. The main room of The Wilderness Lodge was one third kitchen, one third dining room, and one third living room. The living room had one couch and two chairs and a plasma screen TV on the wall that was bigger than any of them. Very rustic, it was. And there were twenty or so people, five under the age of ten, sharing that space.
We were intending to leave on Sunday, but our dog-sitter was in Charlest0n at the Hold Steady show, so we waited to go on Monday. On Monday, I woke up and went to the hair salon. I had done much of the packing the night before and the b.h. would finish up while I was chatting with Shayne and trying to get the rest of the blasted red undertones out of my hair. The hair salon was fun and relaxed, and when I got back to the house I felt ready to face both the long drive and the twenty some people that would be waiting at the end of it.
When I returned home, I found that although everything was essentially ready, we had been asked to go to the b.h.'s parents' house before leaving town to check on the resident felines. "Didn't they just leave?" Yes, but the b.h.'s mom wasn't sure if she had left enough food out for them, and they had planned on somebody checking in on Wednesday, but now they weren't sure if the person could make it, etc. "Can't we just go over there when we get back on Wednesday?" No. The b.h. had got the feeling that his mom may have "forgotten something, but didn't want to admit it." Well, so be it then. We would simply be adding an extra forty minutes on to our five hour drive.
It turned out that the cats were fine- plenty of food, water, etc. When I talked to the b.h.'s mom later, she said that she just "had a bad feeling" that something had gotten skipped - an iron left on, a door left unlocked, or some such. A brilliant woman, she is, but like many of us, her brain is often full and she therefore has tendencies toward a certain kind of flightiness (one that Hey Bartender can *assure* you that she is *never* guilty of. Cough. Cough.).
Holy shit I just referred to myself in the third person. Oh well. I guess it was only a matter of time.
Anyway, the drive was pleasant enough. The b.h. and I were both tired, so we had to stop more often than we would have liked in order to obtain more caffeine and get our blood moving. One of the reasons why I prefer driving at night is that I get very sleepy when I'm in the sun. In the car, with the air-conditioning blowing, one half of my body was freezing, while the half in the sun felt like it was on fire. I wanted to curl up in the window and take a cat nap. Inadvisable, I have been told, while driving.
We had printed out directions using g00gle maps (M@pquest has done us wrong too many times), and all was well. The gas got cheaper the farther we went, which was a pleasant surprise. The b.h.'s mom called us when we were just outside Charlotte. We told her where we were and assured her that we had directions. When we pulled up the The Wilderness Lodge, the b.h.'s mom was waiting on the front porch for us. I got the feeling that she might have been there since we had hung up with her an hour and a half before. Once inside, I realized why. The main room of The Wilderness Lodge was one third kitchen, one third dining room, and one third living room. The living room had one couch and two chairs and a plasma screen TV on the wall that was bigger than any of them. Very rustic, it was. And there were twenty or so people, five under the age of ten, sharing that space.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
On Clean Underwear.
My father's older brother Ted had a massive stroke in 1980. I remember very little about that time except that many people at the hospital did not expect him to survive and our (very large) family rallied around and, when all was said and done he was in a wheel chair, half-paralyzed but as big a smart-ass as ever.
My family has a somewhat odd sense of humor. I never knew my dad's father, but my grandmother lived until I was twelve, and my strongest memories of her involve cigarettes and cuss words, and the kind of threats that would bring DFACS running if you were to make them publicly now. It's not that we're a particularly violent people, mind you. We simply enjoy a colorful vernacular.
Uncle Ted has had a very rough several months, and after being in and out of the hospital several times, he entered hospice care a short time ago. Last week my dad told me things were pretty dire, and it seemed that his death was imminent. His wife and children were with him round the clock, and when people would come to visit my aunt would tell my uncle (who had lost consciousness days ago) who had come, and encouraged everyone to address him directly, since he seemed responsive to voices even though he didn't wake up.
Two days ago, my aunt was going to run home for a bit. She told my cousins that she would be back very soon, and then leaned over my uncle's bed.
"Ted, I have been wearing the same underwear for three days. I have got to go home and take a shower."
She said (and is very happy to have had my two cousins there to confirm this, or she would have thought she'd gone crazy) that my uncle's eyes fluttered, and his mouth moved just a little.
He mouthed the words "Me too" and breathed his final breath.
I only hope that I go out with a wise crack. Nothing else would seem appropriate.
My family has a somewhat odd sense of humor. I never knew my dad's father, but my grandmother lived until I was twelve, and my strongest memories of her involve cigarettes and cuss words, and the kind of threats that would bring DFACS running if you were to make them publicly now. It's not that we're a particularly violent people, mind you. We simply enjoy a colorful vernacular.
Uncle Ted has had a very rough several months, and after being in and out of the hospital several times, he entered hospice care a short time ago. Last week my dad told me things were pretty dire, and it seemed that his death was imminent. His wife and children were with him round the clock, and when people would come to visit my aunt would tell my uncle (who had lost consciousness days ago) who had come, and encouraged everyone to address him directly, since he seemed responsive to voices even though he didn't wake up.
Two days ago, my aunt was going to run home for a bit. She told my cousins that she would be back very soon, and then leaned over my uncle's bed.
"Ted, I have been wearing the same underwear for three days. I have got to go home and take a shower."
She said (and is very happy to have had my two cousins there to confirm this, or she would have thought she'd gone crazy) that my uncle's eyes fluttered, and his mouth moved just a little.
He mouthed the words "Me too" and breathed his final breath.
I only hope that I go out with a wise crack. Nothing else would seem appropriate.
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