Good Friends, Good Wine, Good Times

We finally picked our day and were going to hang out together. Since we no longer work for the same company, we hardly ever see each other these days. Distance, and life in general tend to get in the way.

But one is never to busy for a good friend, and so you set the date, and work out the details, no matter how miniscule or magnitudinal, that might possibly get in the way.

Then you simply sit back and look forward to it.

And when you arrive at your destination, ready to go, greeted warmly and so happy to see each other…you are asked only one simple but serious question:

“Is it too early for wine?”

“NEVER”, I replied.

And there we were, 9:30 in the morning – two friends…one at the helm of the dreaded work laptop, finishing an e-mail that was a “must,” and one perusing her iPhone for messages. I cut my friend the slack needed to finish that dreaded work e-mail so we could hang out. Thankfully my friend cuts me slack right back. After all, we were both technically “working from home” that day. Shhhhhhhhhhhhh! Don’t tell anyone.

After wine, homemade pizza, crazy conversations, carrots and hummus, and more wine, we headed out to Standing Rock Art Gallery. A quaint little abode with something to catch your eye and make you think twice before leaving empty handed.

Next stop, Don Drumms. I’ve never left there without a trinket or two, and I’m quite sure I never will. We in no way tire of this gallery! So much to look at – every nook of these buildings, inside and out, are filled with treasures to behold and bewilder!

All this gallery hopping can leave one hungry and…. thirsty! So off to CRAVE for some delectable food and more wine along with interesting conversation! (“Where are my keys?” asked my friend. “ You left them with the valet,” I replied.)

FUN TIMES!

And before I knew it, the day I looked so forward to was rapidly winding down and coming to an end. It’s true, “time flies when you’re having fun.”

And it was decided:

We need to plan our next adventure...soon!

Very, very soon!!

Thanks T!

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So no one told you life was going to be this way.

Your job's a joke, you're broke, your love life's DOA.

It's like you're always stuck in second gear,

Well, it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year.

But, I'll be there for you, when the rain starts to pour.

I'll be there for you, like I've been there before.

I'll be there for you, cause you're there for me too

~ I’ll Be There For You (Theme From FRIENDS)
by The Rembrandts

Mother's Day 2009 ~ The Loss

(Written by Jules who was unable to post this herself today. Our thoughts and prayers are with Jules and her family.)

I come from a large family with many aunts and uncles.

Today, we lost one of them. My mother’s youngest brother. He would have had his 67th birthday this coming Saturday.

For about 12 years, he has battled chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, known as COPD, and emphysema. Chronic oxygen had been his constant companion for most of those years.
He lost his wife who was only 46 years old during the beginning of his health issues. He had to go on disability soon after her death due to depression and worsening of his health. At the time, his son was 10 years old.

He was able to get around in the beginning with his portable oxygen. He continued to raise rabbits which were a hobby and business. He was able to drive his truck for most of this time, until recently, when his now adult son said , " no more driving. "

Severe COPD is a progressive and ultimately terminal illness. He had his exacerbations over the years, and stabilization came as well. His life became smaller and smaller, until it seemed that he lived in his kitchen sitting at the table, or walking the few steps to his bedroom, dragging the long tubing from his nasal cannula hooked up to gigantic tanks in his living room. It seemed that he always had his TV turned on to “Matlock” reruns which were always playing when I would visit. I doubt I can hear the theme song to “Matlock” without thinking of him.

He used to play banjo , years ago , and he was pretty good. The banjo sat in its case in his room but I never saw or heard him play it in many, many years.

He had a cat named Thomas – a dark tiger cat.

These are just things I remember fondly.

A few years ago, he nearly died from an exacerbation. He was hospitalized, put on a respirator, and an induced coma. He was given the Last Rites of the Catholic Church, now known as the Anointing of the Sick. But he pulled through that one.

A week ago, he developed pneumonia. He seemed to recover. He was to go home Friday, but the winds took a different turn. His son was told to please call family because he had 24 to 48 hours at best. Many of us went to visit – but he was in no condition for visits. Heavily drugged, confused, exhausted, there was no real conversation. He was headed to hospice Saturday, yesterday. Upon my visit, he was completely unaware, totally out of it, a BiPap machine hooked to his face. Earlier, he told his son “There’s a small boy at the end of the bed.” Maybe it was a hallucination, maybe it was an angel. He didn’t seem afraid.

A priest from my parish offered to give him those Last Rites again this morning. He offered to go last night but I decided to risk the wait. This morning, after mass, I went to visit him. Father was leaving the building as I arrived. I thanked him from all of us.

I found my uncle as he was yesterday, not aware, breathing from the machine, not responsive to conversation and I didn’t really try. The nurse showed me his fingers and toes, the odd color, almost bloodless, very cold, and a mottling of the skin on his knees. His BP was very low. She told me they looked for such signs. The signs were there. I stayed with him awhile, and although I could not give him Communion which I had brought with me, I said the Lord’s Prayer for him, which we always prayed together before he took Communion at home as a shut in. I told him I would say it for him. I held hi s arm, his tattooed arm, and could barely say that prayer. I had to look out the window between my gasps and tears. I gave him a kiss and left. I don’t think he knew I was there.

Less than two hours later, his son called to tell me his dad had passed. No one had come yet , after me, but others were coming and were actually on their way, including his son. He was alone when he died. I wish I had known, because I would have stayed, but I didn’t. A nurse went in to check on him, and he was gone.

I hope the little boy he saw , at the end of his bed the day before , came back and took him home.

He always told everyone “Love you.” I have many messages on my phone where he said, “Love you.”

He was my godfather…

LAI – the journey is over, the battle done and we “love you.”

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”And I’m waiting on an angel, and I know it won’t be long, to find myself a resting place, in my angel’s arms, oh, in my angel’s arms.” - Ben Harper, Waiting on An Angel