Dear Brother,Whats with the gloom and gloom attitude? Its just two old,80something trying to keep up with a 96 year old and losing it. Wouldn't it bebetter to be in a nice home with new people to boss around, tell longstories to,read poems to,eat "GOOD FOOD" and be closer to family than whatshe has now? "Attitude" dear Brother. And I can't think of too many of ourfamily that wont speak their mind loud and clear. I would have put this onyour blog but I didn't want to spoil your image. Besides it wouldn't takeit.(I didn't know how) Love ya, Faye P.S. you may share this with others.
Anyone ever read Speaker for The Dead by Orson Scott Card? Speaker is the second book in the ender Series. It;’s a great read and I recommend the book highly. What about the living there should a book called Speaker for the Living. I spent my morning talking with my cousins about issues which seem to be developing with my mom and their mom and dad. This came about because I received intelligence yesterday that my Aunt and Uncle was giving ultimatums to my older brother about moving my mom out of their house for a care facility of one sort or another. My mom, of course, is refusing but I sense a lot of tension building and I m afraid things re going to get explosive before a solution is reached. Feelings are going to get hurt and rifts are going to rise making family communication impossible.
Like I said I spoke with my cousins this morning, the one set of cousins who does a lot of maintenance for the seniors. These two do a great job and I appreciate all they do. The husband of this two person crew is also the first born son so I figured he or his wife would have great insider information. They didn’t or at least that’s what his wife told me. She said they really did not do that much. Actually, she is being a bit modest because I know they do a lot for the seniors. However, she also really did not seem to know what I was talking about and did not seem too over worked with the about of attention they had been paying to the elders. She did indicate another set of cousins are coming down from Washington state in a week to help out.
I am so embarrassed to have become one of those families that I Talk to everyday on the phone here at the office. One of THOSE families who all of the sudden are caught up in lack or preparation, knowledge or resources to care for our senior loved ones. We mare beginning to back bite and blame and talk in whispers and secretes. We need full disclosure as to what is happening and then work to bring resolution where everyone wins and the family will not be riddled with guilt and hard feelings. We need to communicate.
Dianne and I discussed for a great while last night and we felt anguished that there seemed so little we could do and that we have limited intelligence. But, I don’t think my immediate family is getting that good of intelligence anyway. Things seem to be a lot different in the cousins “camp” then in our “camp” Things do not seem to be nearly ad bad as we are hearing. Maybe I am hearing just what I want to hear or what They want me to hear.
My plan of action is I am going to go home and watch “Bones” and try to make myself available in case the seniors need my assistance. The end game does not have to be this difficult—it’s bad enough we are loosing a family member to the grim reaper we should not have to loose living ones as well to consternation.
Circus trucks blocking the road which was bare yesterday.I usually leave for the train each morning about 6:30 am if I am lucky. The sun has not even begun rise so it’s dark. This morning as I was heading out the door not only was it dark but chilly. Someone had their woodstove going warming their homes in an effort to stave off the heat bills of the coming winter. I was transported in a twinkling to another point in time 46 years earlier.
It was early a dark and cool morning not much different then this morning. We had gotten up, my father and older brother, Ross, milked the very sleepy and then headed out in our old Studebaker truck to go hunting. I was less then thrilled to be along. I was a weird kid not liking a whole lot of what other kids my age like to do: football, baseball and hunting to name a few. But somehow this particular Fall dad got in his head that we ( the men) should do the hunt. Up early, I can remember being sandwiched between my dad and my brother. Sitting in the middle with the stickshift to the old truck coming up between my legs. I knew it was going to be an comfortable trip. If there was heat in that old truck the heat was slow heating up. I don’t think there was a working heater in that truck. There was some heat by virtue of the beasts combustible engine. In due time I think the three bodies packed into the truck’s cab would generate enough heat to ensure some reasonable comfort. Anyway, I am sure I was asleep before we reached Lucky Peak reservoir east of Boise on the way to the killing zone. I hated road trips—I sill do. All I can think about on any trip is that it will more then likely take as long to come back as it did to go. You will have to see the same things but in reverse. The benefit of leaving in the dark of morning you only have to witness the road images once.
We drove I am sure two hours to get to where ever were going. I was astounded as the early mornings light invaded our surrounding that we were actually in the mountains; huge mountains covered with pine trees, pine needles and dirt. It was that “early time dark light” when we stopped and finally got out. I do not know what my dad used as the ascertain the qualities of a good place to start the hunt but we were obvioudsly there” I hobbled out of the cab and stretched my legs, for the first time understanding, really why that cliché was a cliché. We had not eaten yet dad passed our tins of Kippersnacks , the first I had ever eaten, I was amazed at how great these snacks of smoked fish were. Later on we had Chef Boyardee spaghetti and meat balls heated over an open fire. This was the best canned food I had ever eaten.
We did not kill anything that day And I shot a tree out of boredom and to hear sound of the rifle. The darkness surrounded us by the time we drove into the barnyard. We never went hunting again which was Ok with me but I sometimes wondered if this hurt my dads feelings.
My sister reads my blog. I do not know why but this fact sort of shocked me .So, instead of six readers now I have seven( maybe). I care who reads this blog. I am always pleased when I find that anyone is reading my ramblings. However, with my older sister reading the discourse I suddenly feel a bit intimidated. I shouldn’t, nothing has changed but some how the exercise has. I write these things and send them out and rarely do I get any feed back and I am not looking for feed back. If I were I doubt I would ever get anything written.
The five or six who read are mostly family members my kids and few friends. I do not advertise that I write really. Sometimes I’ll let someone know if it is a person who wants to keep up with my life. I just never realized or thought about how once the kids (nieces or nephews) find the blog they in turn will tell their families and eventually their parents.
So the next couple of entries I will most likely be sensitive to what and how I write. Not necessarily censoring what I say but I think I may be more thoughtful then I tend to be otherwise. No big deal, I know as the days pass, I will wory l;ess and less about who is reading and write what I feel driven to write,. Maybe these folks will be motivated to start their own blogs. I would be very excited to see them writing and getting their lives down in writing. Everyone has a story and I believe everyone experiences, at least one story worth telling every day. The experience may not be 500 words, which is my goal, but anything is a start.
For example, my sister mentioned that my brother-in law, La Verne is also reading my blog. La Verne is one tough dude. He has been a truck driver for as long as I have known him. He has owned and driven big trucks and has had some major accidents. Irene always take pictures of everything she is such an excellent documentarian. Some of the images I have seen of truck accidents La Verne has survived has just blown me away. La Verne is like the battery rabbit he just keeps on going. He has always been there for Irene and his kids and grand kids. He is quiet and a bit hard to get to know. I wish I knew him better. This is one person who I hope does a blog or Myspace because I think either would be fascinating.
The circus is coming to town this week—Ringling brothers is coming to the Delta Center, the first show will be the day after tomorrow the 27th. So somewhere east of Utah the Circus trucks loaded with animals, clowns and artists are making their way here. This image is where they usually park their truck. Tomorrow there will be trucks and elephants here ready for the big show to begin. Hopefully, I will get a picture of the same street tomorrow.
I got an email from my big sister today. My big sister is Irene and she is great, she is my biggest sister which means she is the oldest sister I have. Irene has always been special to me. She uses to babysit me fifty three or so years ago—that's like half a century ago. I was the baby of the family for five years, I was cute and according to my big sisters I spoiled. I find that hard to believe but I always knew they cared for me.
When I had my motor cycle wreck back in 1966 I was fifteen and pretty silly. By this period in time most of my older siblings were married or had moved away from the house, way far away. There were four older who had moved a way and I missed them all a lot but I digress. Quickly, a year or so following my accident I had gone through rehabilitation and I had rehabbed as much as I was going to rehab. So, I was back in high school a poor crip from a poor family. Only now that I am a grown up and a parent that I can only imagine ho poor we must have been. Being this poor did not seem so bad—everyone I knew seemed to be as poor. Many of the kids I knew had part time jobs but there was no way I was working and I quadriplegic in 1968. But I had needs. I wanted to date I wanted to go out with the guys and eat fast food and be as normal as I could be.
One summer I came up with a great idea. We sometimes would go years without seeing the older sibs. Many had not seen be sense before my accident. They all knew I was hurt bad but I don't know if they really knew how severely I was disabled. I had gotten this huge old electric, royal typewriter for school since I could no longer write by hand and I was being required to get written assignments done some how. The electric typewriter did the trick. The plan I came up with was simple. To each of my older brothers and sisters, who lived away from home, I wrote a letter as if my mom was writing the document. In each letter I wrote that I had cancer and that I was terminal and because the medical expenses were so great that the parents were having difficulty providing for me like they felt the should. The letter went on saying if they could spare any extra money they should send it to me as a gift. I mailed the letter and then figured the sibs would see through it and that would be that.
Thinking back, I cannot believe that I did not get into more trouble then I did. I don't even think the parents talked to me. I did however, receive a ten dollar bill from my big sister Irene with the memo that the money was to go toward my writing career because she felt I had a definite future somewhere in the writing field.
Big sisters are special they can see things in you that perhaps no else can see and big sisters have the patience to bring those good things, that no one else sees, out of that very person...in this case me. Thanks big Sis for being there..I love you.
The clouds and rain have moved out and the world is trying to squeeze the last heat of summer out of this part of the world. The damage has been done however, now the beauty Autumn can begin as the plants die giving up the beautiful colors of the season before the killing temps and snows of winter come. Uproot the tomatoes and hang the plants upside down in the garage to let the last of the fruits ripen, bring in the squash and drain the water hoses. Rake the garden and turn the soil it time to let the ground rest.
I found out this morning that one of my nieces has breast cancer and she will be going in for a radical next week sometime. She is my brothers child, adopted like me, I like to believe we have a bond sense I was living with my brother and sister-in-law when they adopted her. They brought her into the house and placed her in my arms like a birthday present. This was probably the first infant I had held since my wreck where I broke my neck and be came quadriplegic. I was pretty unsure of myself. I was amazed at her size and complexity. I did not drop and she grew up to be a gifted child, gifted in everything especially sports. This girl does everything well. academics, music, kids her church and family responsibilities. Now she has cancer and the cancer has spread. We hope and pray the medical people get the cancer...we hope and pray that God reaches downs and favors us( the family, her immediate and the extended) with a miracle so common in this part of the world.
I found out when I placed my weekly call to my mom—she started here radiation this last Thursday. Mom sounded a lot better then I had imagined she would. She dropped the niece bomb or I would have not known a thing. I have grown to accept our families disjointed communication system. I nearly missed my fathers funeral. I was called when I did not show up at his viewing and one of the kids called Dianne wondering where we were. Dad's funeral is a whole blog entry in and of itself. Maybe one day I'll right about it
So this could be a “me” issue. I may have done something so sever that I am ostracized from family issues of any import. This is cool I can deal with it. Hell. This is just reverse adaptation. Maybe this is how I am perceiving these events. Maybe in the world of stress and haste somethings an people just get forgotten. Our job is to forgive and be useful when called upon. I can do that.
Two people with active cancer (that we know of) in this family—one almost a hundred and one a soul just on the brink of parent hood, three kids under 14 years old. I guess there is no fairness in this equation there never is, just old ugly life playing the cards as there dwelt and hoping for the best. It all feels pretty raw right now.
Fall crashed on to the scene this morning a little after 3:am. Eastern time. I woke to clouds, rain and a sense that snow had fallen and sure enough snow Had fallen at 6,000 foot level. There was snow on the benches this morning and more fore cast for the day. Today would have been a good day to have hunkered down in the office but I had a meeting out in the community.
The day looked cold and uninviting but the day was not so bad once out in it. I took the van into work today. I wanted an easy egress when three o clock arrives. I am jetting at three since I worked through lunch at A.T. Council and DD Council. I had my hours in. The boss did not look to happy as I was checking out but she did not stop me. I came straight home—a great place to be on a dark and rainy afternoon.
The past few day I have been focused on an event which happened years ago at the grade school i spent my formative years: Campus School. I was in the second or third grade when this event happened. I have some emails out to friends who can help me validate this event.
Campus school was on the campus of Boise Jr. College(BJC) in 1958 ( when I am going to say this event happened). BJC had an aggressive teaching department and we were teaching laboratory for these cadet teachers. Each class had two way mirrors separating the coat room from the class rooms where instructors and student teachers could observe classroom behaviors. I guess like any school we had a recess in the morning and then lunch then a second recess in the afternoon
In back of Campus school, North, there were stretches of undeveloped ground planted in grass larch enough for any number of footballs fields. To the northwest there were trees . Planted in two huge rows-great shade in the Spring and Fall. One day in the Fall, a day not unlike today, clouds and cool jacket weather. I belonged to a small gang of boys who like to fun in formation round these trees with their arms stretched out behind them in make believe wings, producing “jet engine sounds as they ran. Our squadron was heading west to the far end of the trees when we noticed a group of kids were bunched something on the grass at the far end of the school grounds. It was a large group of kids from any number of different grades. There were no teachers in sight so what ever was at the center of the interest had not been found for long. We broke formation and flyers circulated round the mass of kids trying to infiltrate to the core.
We eventually got in and was shocked to find a copy of he Bible opened to the 23rd Psalm with a pair of axillary crutches placed onto of the opened book! The crowd was quiet just staring at the weird scene. Teachers must have come out and got us moving back to class or what ever, I don't remember but it was weird and happened on a day just like today.
I had a presentation at the Gray Ghost this morning. The Gray Ghost is a Senior citizen high-rise right behind the office building my office is located in. The meeting was scheduled for 10:00 I thought for sure I would be out 10:30 11:00 the latest. I left the building at11:30 and I could have gone longer but I was getting dizzy…I needed a protein fix. I was called the first of the month as asked if I could address this group of folks. The Ghost is a HUD housing project built thirty years ago, one of the only local HUDs left which will house non-seniors with physical disabilities. So both populations are the folks I serve, the place is round the corner from my office and an easy knock off.
I met with a group of about 6 people mostly people with disabilities not senior in the technical sense but , like me, getting there. They did have disabilities anf lots of questions. I never did get into the generic presentation about my operation I had planned to give. These folks had real questions Medicaid cut-backs to problems about local public transportation. Prisoners of State trying to survive in a system which seems focused at eradicating them. One individual was scheduled to have all his teeth pulled because the system is too cheap to provide adequate dental care. This guy is my age, maybe a little younger. He is scheduled to be seen by the oral surgeon sometime next month for the extraction. He is spooked And I would be too. I gave him some ideas and hopefully he will carry through.
Next was the discussion about the lack of computers and INTERNET availability and what could be done. Then discussion went political action group and then I realized I may have woke a “sleeping giant”.
I have rolled in upon a core group who might be able to activate the whole building of over two hundred soul. What is really cool is this building is right in the heart of downtown. This group could actually make it up to the State capitol on very short notice. These folk are with in rolling or walking distance of two major television networks. These guys could have a major impact on local government if they are motivated and directed correctly. Now, don’t get me wrong this leader is not me but there are those who might rise up. I just need to continue to encourage to rattle and roll and to bring the local temperature to a boil.
There are a number of advocacy groups in this area who could conceivably take on this responsibility—community organizing is in their mission statements.
This is not what I had intended when I left my comfortable warm office. But, just maybe, this is exactly what I need. I need my “tree” shaken. I need to get back to the street and mix it up. I am being forced to leave my comfort zone and maybe just maybe to grow a little.
There comes one day each year when I have to make a decision to start wearing socks. I know wearing or not wearing socks sounds incidental but it makes a big difference in my day. The days have to be so cold and uncomfortable that I change my routine when dressing. Today was that day for me. Today I start wearing socks for the Fall and Winter Seasons.
Most days I dress my self completely and independently was that redundant? On days I wear socks means I have to lift my legs at least two more times then I do when I choose not to wear socks. My feet are all the way at the end of my legs. I have to literally pick my legs up and cross them so I can reach my feet and wrestle the socks on. This year I have taken to using a bike inner tube to hook my foot and pull the foot up over my leg to put my pants on—this method also works for my sock application process. This year I have also noted that my spasticity has increased and keeping my leg crossed has become more difficult and I noticed I feel at greater risk of having a spasm, sever enough to launch me from my wheelchair. This is scary. Usually I have enough forewarning that I can hook my arm over one of the handle on the back of my chair. So having to use caution during this process also adds more time to my dressing process and this also drives me crazy. However, all things considered, I am thankful I can do this whole process regardless of how long the process takes, independently.
Today when I checked outside, just after rising, I could see the rain and feel the chill. I sighed and decided in order to feel warm and dry I would be wearing socks. Black, nylon, rayon or some other synthetic weave would cover my foot today. I struggled and hefted my foot up and was mildly surprised to see the that I was still able to coax my foot into the sock and I was able to accomplish this in pretty good time as well. Getting the socks on is a minor big deal with the amount of swelling my feet experience over the summer.
I try to wait for the equinox to either stop wearing or begin wearing socks but today was the day for me. I have meetings out of the office and had to dress up anyway. The skies over cast and looks to threaten rain all day. The day looks cold from start to finish. I am even driving today, to the Buffmire building and back. Looks like rain tomorrow and again Friday. I have meetings out of the office both days. So, I will be wearing socks from here on out till Spring. Dressing in socks takes a little bit longer and is a hassle but the payoff of having warm dry feet all day is worth it. Next on my agenda is finding a pair of warm shoes which will not fly off my feet when I crash my power chair.
I am being thrashed by my equipmemt again! I could really allow my paranoid delusions get out of hand if I let myself go. Yesterday, there was a break in the rain and the sun made an appearance and I felt motivated enough to get out and get the weekend chores out of the way, more specifically the week’s shopping. I like to do the shopping Sunday morning if I can. This excersise gets me dressed and out the door and forces me to start dealing with the public again. I have to be civilized.
I was slow getting out yesterday. I did not even live the housed till afternoon. I got in the van and made the transfer to the drivers seat and move the seat forwards to my comfort zone under the steering wheel. I got to the market and when I tried to move my drivers seat back to access my wheelchair the seat would not budge. There are a set of controls on my drivers seat which move the seat forward and backward, another which raised the seat up and down and a third which spins the seat about 45 degrees. All these movements allow me to access my chair. All switches must be working for me to either drive my van safely or exit the van. In this case none of the switches were operational. I was stranded in the parking lot of Smith’s market. I guess I was lucky. The day was a beautiful Fall afternoon, people were out shopping like I wanted to be. I mean the situation could have been far worse, the temperture could have been freezing or broiling both situations could be deadly to a quad like myself.
I was so discouraged that I just sat there in the parking lot listening to NPR’s Sunday broadcasting trying to work the switches on my chair in hopes that I would do something which would “kick’ my chair into operational mode but nothing happened. My backpack which held my cell phone was behind me in the back of the van where I could not reach it even with my hook. I finally realized I was not going anywhere and I better get my butt in gear and do something. I always look to my big brother as a personal savior when I get into these problems. My brother like my father can fix anything…most of the time—one-way or the other.
I drive over to my brothers and was relieved to see his new neon in the drive way He was home. Well, Carl works on seat for over an hour and we cannot get the seat to work. I finally accept the verdict that I am going to have to get the van over to Solutions and have them trace the break. Carl followed me home and manhandled me out of the van into my power chair. Once again totally dependent on others for survival…
Then this morning I was on the last leg of my morning commute into my office. Another cool brisk Fall morning. I was doing Ok, I started out a little late from the house but I would be into the office way before the 0800 hour. I was coming down the ramp from th-e Delta Center where the ramp intersects the main sidewalk and I don’t know what happened but the chair stopped and threw me out onto the sidewalk. I think I must have looked like “Charlie Brown” being hit by a line drive: both shoes flew off and I just about lost my pants! I hit the sidewalk twisting and my head was going to bounce of the sidewalk and there was no way I was going to prevent the head slam from happening. So, I rolled and bounced. Luckily I was wearing my hat and had my black diamond (hoodie) wrapped round my shoulders which also cushioned head blow. Just laid my head back and waited for the concusion envelope my brain and body. The concussion never came. I was OK. I started squirming like the larva I am out of my chair.
As I was coming down the sidewalk I had noticed a women, far off down the block. She was now coming up on me asking me if I was OK and did I need help. I told her I was OK and I did need help. It was cool this little laid strong armed a couple Hispanic home-less guys and had them throw me into my chair. These guys must have been farm worked heading to the potato fields of Idaho. These guys picked me up like a sack of spuds planted me back in my chair. They even stuck my shoes back on my feet. I wish I could have got this spill on tape some how. I think it would have been cool.
So it seems my mechanicals are out to get me. I had better be careful and start taking control. Because we know where it’s Colossus of HAL the machines are out to get us.
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My older brother called this morning as I was working on cleaning house. Im was in the back and Dianne got to the phone first and entered into a to lengthy discussion. My brother is kind of the family boss—he is the oldest male of my dads kids and after dad died Carl took the lead. I knew if I was being called by Carl something big was going down. My family seems to be one of those families that reserve phone calls for business: if you're getting the phone call you're getting the business. There for I figured if I was being called by Carl Saturday morning the call had something to do with mom. Well, Dianne just kept talking which was cool if Dianne was still on the phone it meant that were not too bad. Mom must still be alive. Mom is ok but things seem to be getting “rocky” there in Utah County. As written about earlier mom had medical treatments all week and my dear aunt had been driving her to these treatments. Her husband also had cancer and she is driving him too and she IS wearing out., she must be tired , terrified and and mad as hell this is all happening to her and her family. The ripples are starting to cross the family pond. Carl can only do so much as well as other family members but still things are going to have to be done. My brother called me—he must be really frustrated.
Dianne put the last of the call on Speakerphone and we discussed the parent issue and possible options. Of course this discussion can only go so far be for the nursing home option is discussed. The “care facility” is the nuclear option for families with seniors. I was shocked at how easily we slipped into this discussion—I mean we are going to have to have the discussion sooner or later.. Right? So not this week, and most likely not next week mom and the family here will have to have the discussion long term care or not long term care. This discussion on top of chemotherapy—five days a week. My brother's kids are physical therapists one actually is an administration over couple of nursing homes in the state. They are going to explore options: in home health, attendant care and what ever might be available in this semi-rural community. There was not a date set for the next family discussion. Probably next Saturday.
I just got off the phone with my mom—my weekly call. Mom seems oblivious to any stress encircling the family right now. She did indicate she is set up for rides next week. She starts her chemo next Thursday. I thought the chemotherapy has already started but no; last week was just the ramp-up Picture taking, targeting an counseling next week begins treatments. I asked if she was OK, she said she was. No problems? No. “Is Aunte treating you nice? “Of course she is, she is my sister.” What can I say to that but I love you and call me if you need anything. I am just a donsil.
I have just a few hours left of my directorship. The Boss should be back next week thank goodness. I cannot say that this has been a bad experience, actually the experience was somewhat benign. I just came into work as I usually do , this week, I spent a great deal moving my office back to the front. So, this week was mostly typical.
I have to admit that toward the end of the week staff were treating me different. I think I noticed the change first on Tuesday. Staff started telling m where they were going or if they were going to do something different they usually did. I must admit I was a bit confused at first until realized staff was in effect notifying me because I am the boss! This was important if there was a dispute in the time…not that I would dispute such an event. I don’t really care. I can see if I really were the , I would be caring my daytime round with me and noting all these events. I also noticed as I settled into this role more people were talking to me, stopping by my office or coming up to me at lunch. I do not envy the real boss.—she must have no time to herself. But I guess this is what a boss does, baby-sit, hold employee hands and talk them into doing their jobs. The boss of this out fit would even be more difficult not only do you have a staff to shepherd but she also has to sit a very large council made up not only of consumers with disabilities but elected officials and professionals which serve folks with disabilities. What a nightmare.
So staff has been nice and supportive of me in this temporary position—after all it’s not big deal. It was a technicality to keep wheels of this office turning in case something anything happened. Nothing happened. In fact the office fifth column group continued their inner office meetings discussing their disgust over certain staff and office practices. Like if I was a real figure of leadership terror these little conversation would not be happening. I suppose if I reported back to the power structure then I would be isolated and considered a goat. I would do such a thing because I just work that way. Though I have to admit there were times I wondered what my role was because staff were carrying on outside my office door. I wondered if I wa to do one of those clearing your throat, glance at the clock and suggest the folks get back to work via body image or be even more confrontive and ask staff to get back to their desks and work. How droll if I were TO do something like this. I did not I just continued to do my work and keep my nose clean.
Actually it’s a good staff we have here. They work hard and get their work done—true some leave earlier then others and has cause concern with the boss. But if the business is covered one way or the other and this little perk keeps staff happy then why not? I gotta go now…I have to leave now. I worked through my lunch a couple of times this week so I am going …cause I can cause I’m the boss for a little while longer…
Years ago when I was employed by a local independent living center, the center often used , what was called then, VISTA’s VISTA’s were “employees paid for by the Federal government. VISTA was established in the Johnson Administration under the Economic Opportunity Act in 1964 in his "War on Poverty" legislation. VISTA allowed rich college graduate kids to ‘roll up their sleeves’ and help America become better. These little liberals were dispatched like poverty storm troupers to the hills of Appalachia, lettuce fields of California and the sugar beet harvests of Idaho. In Utah many private non-profit agencies started realizing they could serve more consumers without cutting into the private non profits bottom line. It was this unique employment relationship which brought Ms Yung Moon to the independent living center where I worked in fact to the very office next to mine.
Ms Moon was actually from Korea, a 27 year old polio survivor, brought to America to study, she got her post graduate degrees and stayed in the “Great Society” of wonder drugs, rock and roll, disability rights and fashion. She was a hip Korean cool tool armed with Candian crutches and lower leg braces and a 1985 Honda CRX . She could not find work in her profession and ended up working in VISTA In the quasi professional setting of the independent living movement. Ms Moon was very “old country”. I would see her each morning and she would greet me as Mr Smith and I would respond by greeting her as Ms Moon. In the two years I knew her that is all we ever addressed each other by. This period of time was also the first time in my life I started to relize I wa slipping over to the “advanced age” bracket. I did not feel older and I did not feel I necessarily looked older but I could tell my the treatment I got from Ms Moon that she definitely regarded me as her senior.
I often tried to bridge this age gap we seemed to share but never seemed to happen. She always treated me with formal decorum reserved for the verneated seniors of her country. I was concerned one day, however, when she would look at me and then hide her face and burst out laughing. This happened all day finally I could not stand what felt like humiliation anylonger I demanded “wants wrong Ms moon why are you laughing at me?” and once again Ms Moon, hid her face and replied “Oh Mr. Smith I cannot help it…but every time I look at you, you look just like Homer Simpson.
Homer Simpson! I was crushed. I would never have thought of such a thing—in fact this is something I would have most likely compared someone else too but not me. I could not believe she could be so cruel. I rolled to the bathroom an gazed into the mirror and had to accept the truth of m moon’s statement. There indeed was a resemblance to the great Fox bumbler. The sooner I could accept this the sooner I could get on with my life. The photo bears it all—I could be Homer.
Mark A was over last night to mow the yard. We sure have appreciated his dilligince to this project. I don not think he has missed a single week except for his California trip and he had given as ample warning; it was also hot the grass sort of stopped growing and we got by just fine. Anyway, following we ended up talking for a while. We had a good discussion and he spoke of an issue which seems to plague us ( me and the kids time to time). We tend to be weird to our peers and even other family member from time. I explained to Mark that I don’t believe our weirdness is not intentional and no ( we are not learning disabled as some of our spouses would like to believe) we are not trying to get attention. We just operate at a different frequency or drummer.
We tend not to enjoy organized sporting events, baseball, football ,or basketball etc. Granted Mark went for 10 year sugar fast once but weird or just healthy. We do like getting lost in novels, fantsy games and some poetry. We spent the kids childhood wandering round malls, grocery markets and downtown Salt Lake City. We spent nearly every Saturday together mostly just hanging out. I think we truly loved being together and discussing things. And we could and would discuss everything but usually things mathematical and science. Probably because we were poor then. It was easy to be “rich” in our heads. One of our favorite activities was driving round the avenues ( area of Salt lake where the architecture is very interesting. Beautiful Victorian houses where huge Mormon familes lived, we would sit out front and make histories of our lives if we actually lived in that house. We would describe what Christmas’ would be like or Thanksgiving or Fourth of July’s or cold winter nights with stoked fireplaces and bread baking in the kitchen. Another major event we did as the group on cold dark Saturdays of winter would be to watch Dune or Star Wars videos.
Yes, you could say we were strange—that we truly enjoyed each others company that we liked to read and explore ideas from as many directions as possible.
We, as a group, are scattered now and we do not get the chance to communicate as we once did. We instant message when we can or enjoy long conversations on endless minute cell phone Saturdays. We rarely are able to get together and communicate like we used to. I would like to think our oddness is unique to our group. I think we do gather strength of each other and that sometimes those who maybe close to us sees the level of understanding as weird or strange and perhaps even threatening. It’s just the way we are.
The chaos in my office continues to grow as I move things in from my old office. I have been throwing things as much as I can but still the mess grows. I hope to gain a handle on the mess in the next two days. Stick with me.
I have spent all morning cleaning things out of my old office and setting things up in my new old office. What a mess. I have even been throwing things away as fast as I can and yet I still have tons or things to move, go through and get rid of. I was going to see if my Mark could come in and help me with the big book case but I forgot to call and this morning was too late. So maybe I can get him over again this coming Friday and we can make the move. Cecilia has also been helpful to me in the move. This morning she helped set up my mirrors. I use these mirrors to check on what is going on behind my back. Since I sit with my back to my office door the mirrors are most helpful.
There is also something very strange going on with the equipment I carry in my backpack. I carry a card-reader and a 5.0 gig micro-hard drive. Yesterday I tried to use the hard drive on my office system and the cpu refuse to acknowledge my device. The hard drive worked just fine a couple of weeks ago. I don’t jse the hard drive that much and I do not have anything critical stored on the device but it is just the principle that I paid nearly 100.00 for the drive and now I does not work. I have even taken the drove hope and tried to get my lap top to recognize it this morning and the computer refuse to see it. The reader is a similar story. I brought one into the office from home because I had misplaced the reader I use at my office. I often down load image I take while at work for work, my blog and various other projects. The computer would not recognize the reader either ? What’s going on? The old reader surfaced when I was putting things away. I tried unplugging the cord from the new reader and using the new cord plugged the old reader onto the new cord and then fed the USB into the CPU and the CPU found and read the card just fine and I was able to down load the images. What I am fearing is that there is something strange happening to my equipment while I carry the equipment in my pack. I must admit that there are times I tend to be rough with my backpack and have dropped it or run over and I have worried about the drive. However, I think there is something else going on. At least between the cord and the old reader I can still get my images off the camera and up to my system which will allow me to post to my blog.
I have started a diet or rather I am trying to keep up with Dianne who has really got into this diet system she sent away for. This is serious weight loss if done correctly and with a vengeance. I hate it. I hate not being able to eat what I want when I want. I hate being hungry what seems to be all the time. I hate drinking copious volumes of water cus then I have to pee. But I need to. I must drop some weight for esthetics and health. Boy am I a grump!
I have spent all day taking calls and getting my office set up…I can tell this office move is going to be more difficult then I had anticipated but the task is coming along. I am afraid I may have to call m on mark yet again to come in to the office and help me move a few more big things. I hate doing this but I cannot think of another soloution to the problem of having to move the book case, Again, another problem of being a guy with a disability you gotta recognize your limits.
This is one of the images my little sister sent to m the other day. It’s an image of my two kids and me taken about twenty years ago. I had never seen this image, that I can remember, and must say the image was a pleasant shock. I had forgotten how cute the kids were at this age. He image is taken at a park one of the times my parents came down from Idaho for a visit.
I was not a custodial dad—so I was a weekender and special occasioner. Holidays, grandparent visits, school presentation or recitals etc. Actually I was not even a weekender, I was a Saturdayer. I scooped them up when I had transportation and we would go out for Kid Day and I would get them back by 5:00 OR 6:00 PM . But I sensed the guys always liked hanging with me and I sure enjoyed my time with them. Hopefully their smiles says it all.
My little sister came through! I recently put out an email request any and all images of the old homestead—the farm where I was raised. I know there were quite a few images taken during that period. I don't know what has got into me lately but I have had a need to draw pictures of my childhood. I do not know why I am doing this but I need to draw these images. When I started I realized that I could not remember a lot of the homestead or little things. I recalled there was lots of “background” in a lot of the family photos. When I consulted the album my mom made for me she had actually gone through the images and cut out all this back ground material. I could not believe it.
I was hoping there was a family archive where mom kept the originals or at least the negatives. Alas I was wrong. It seems the sisters remember mom thinking that no one would ever be interested in negatives and threw them out! I cannot say I was heartbroken but i sure would have liked to have seen what was on them. You never pay attention to things like this when you have the opportunity but once gone their gone.
This image of two of my older brothers is great of those two but what I am really excited about is all the imagery especially the buildings like the sheds on the right. Some of the machinery and look at the be-hives. I had completely forgot these hives. We always had hives and I loved to watch my dad work them. Notice the vehicle parked in front of the house. This was the old Hudson Hornet—a fast back before there were fast backs. Also see the long sloping hill in the background. This was the benches and the lead up to Table rock. You cannot see it here but there is a white cross on the flat top of this hill. The light the cross up at night and looks spooky. There is a 40 acre field just North of house—this is all gone now; filled with houses seems like millions of houses. This is exactly the kind of photos I am looking for. Just a glance at this images brings back memories and unleashes all kinds of ideas for short story and art work. I also found I can do a lot with the photo soft ware on this computer. My cropping and then resizing I can yet bring even more details and lost memories forward.
This image is taken a couple of years after the first image I have posted. This captures my younger sister an brother on our tractor and hay wagon and better yet is the image of the haylifter. Haylifter that is all we ever called this massive machine to throw hay onto the stack. The haylifter was there when we purchased the farm in 1956 and I was always amazed to see the contraption operate. Again, look at the trees in the back ground and a different view of some of the out buildings..
Sometimes I wish I could slip back into some of these photos—maybe that was the email was all about.--Thanks Leah.
Mom called today and inform me he has cancer--that was all spinal cancer! She has already started treatment but asked me to keep her in our prayers. What could I say but yes. My mom is well over 90 year old she has had a great run but still she is a person who now knows she is terminal even if she is of advanced age. This knowledge has to be terrifying no matter who you are or how old you are. There has got to be a fear factor of what is going to happen in the process to the check out line. So, I have to learn to be supportive in a difficult situation.
My mom lives in an inaccessible home, she lives almost a 70 miles from me and going to visit takes a deal of planning. Mom mentioned she has started her medical regimen and she will have to go into the Dr's office daily for a while. She lives with her brother in law and sister who are just a little younger the Mom. My Uncle Jess also has some sort of cancer and is going through treatments and my Aunt is caring for both and getting totally worn out. I will offer to help her get back an forth to the doc's office but I do not drive a vehicle she can manage very well if at all. She will talk to her ecclesiastical leader who , hopefully, can find someone in her ward who can drive her to these appointments.
When you finally know something like this, this officially become the beginning of the end. I have to start making my own personal preparations, knowing , just one more thanksgiving, Christmas, Winter season or Spring if we are lucky—if Mom is lucky. There will be long run-ups to the final goodbyes, possible special events and visits from family members who will be saying their last goodbyes. Do these seniors have to put on a “brave” front so the survivors can just get by? Do they cry at night when the last child has said goodbye and the phone line has gone dead, and they know they are all alone. Do they pull the cover over their heads in bed and call the names of their departed spouse or loved ones to come and ease them out of their mortal coil and “ease on down the road home”. When do,we the living, go down into the basement and dig out the casket which has been sitting in the basement for the past seven years, wax and polish it up for the “big show”. Is it to crass to start reading the sales and buying foods to use for the final family dinner after the “event” The end is near—nothing will ever be the same now, now that we know. Now that old age has a diagnosis and death is right round the corner and each “goodbye” may be your or her last.
It’s Friday afternoon, and day 2 of being the boss and I have screwed yet again! This time it has to do with timesheets. I destictly remember the boss telling me I had to get the staff time sheets, filled out and signed and have the time sheets taken over to human Services. I spoke with Shane who said he would take them over when he left for the day round 2:00 PM. Cool I thought done! No big deal. I mean there is like three people here today right. So, one of them is freaking out because Shane has done this. I guess this individual thought she was the person who is to take the time sheets over and she was going to keep do hers on Monday and take the time sheets over then. Her time sheets got thrown in with the others and got taken over and she was not ready for that to happen yet. So now this person who\ is as old as me has to walk all the way over to human services to retrieve her time sheet. Unbelievable. Next week is going to be an unbelievably long week.
I have managed before but the task did not ever seem to be as difficult as this assigmnet is turning out to be. I have been thinking about this problem I have been having all week and I think part of the problem I am having is that I have not really cared. My office for the past 6-7 years has been so small I have to had to really manage or direct anyone—I have got pretty spoiled. Just me in my own little universe—maybe just one other person but we get along very well..we understand each other. The lack of communication in this office maybe the problem. I have noted eve since the new employee started staff have been more and more frustrated. Part of it I thought was the addition of a new player to the mix but I have noted her professional and sometimes curt way of speaking. She is from another geographical area of the country and that may have something to with her communication skills…plus she has worked with large governmental offices and that too may have an impact. I do not think I have a problem talking with her but I am wondering if I am saying the right things. Maybe I am not saying enough; again, case in point: this morning I just assumed that everyone knew I was gathering timesheets, seemed like we discussed this in staff meeting, I certainly verbalized it enough in general but not specific…I should have at least sent a memo around. So, I have to stop assuming everyone on staff knows what I am thinking. But then again, this is just for one week. This is doable.
I catch the train home from the Galavin Station most nights. The Galavin is round the block and two blocks East from where I work. This trip takes me into the heart of downtown past people and building pleasing to the eye. I cut through blocks and alleys and generally enjoy the trip. The trip is refreshing and lets me believe I live in a in a big city. I don’t but I am gulable and if I keep one eye shut and look in the storefront windows I can almost believe.
Last evening I was racing my chair to the train and just came out between two buildings on Main street. As I came out of “hyper drive” heard a man seriously speaking into his cell phone. I was trying to correct my fishtailing so I paid little attention. I passed the cell talker and two guys, slowed down and did a quick survey. Doing so, I was again focused on the cell talker. He was shouting into the cellular—the world shifted something was not right but I could not place just what was out of place. Then I singled out cellular’s voice out of all the Main street ‘Just get someone down here right away!” “I have to go but I am afraid they well hurt them selves if I leave….yes, just hurry, send a car or something…just hurry”. The moment was surreal as I switched my focus from the cell talker to the two men beside him.
The two men were separated by Cellular and only now I noticed, were trying to get bye him to engage in physical combat! The two combatants were in the early stages of engagement. They reminded me of animals in the wild circling each other sizing up each other before striking. Each time one would try to get past the cellular would block the path. One of the fighter was clearly the aggressor and I could see that Cellular was clearly trying to protect the weaker. How noble I thought, a Samaritan. Samaritan wore a button down shirt and tie and Levis, he had a folder of sorts in one hand and his cell phone in then other and was “dancing” between the two clearly more and more frustrated at the lack of concern he was getting from the police department. He at one time had to push the aggressor between a planter and a large downtown flowerpot.
I felt helpless and invisible and was much impressed my Samaritans efforts
To control the combatants rage. There were folks all round the fighters but no one else had stepped to help, this is not entirely true another guy finally helped hold back the rager. I just sat and stared and marveled. With the enrolment of the second Samaritan the energy seemed to drain from the aggressor throwing up his hands and walking away only to \double back and try to “sucker punch’ the other combatant but was taken down by Cellular. I pressed by joystick and zoomed forward to my train which just rounded the corner. The cops still had not shown up but the fighters had dissipated like dark clouds after a storm. I have thought of Cellular’s courage, commitment to peace or what ever all day and wondered if I would have done such a thing—but shamefully I doubt that I would. I have so much yet to grow into..
It's dark now. My holiday is nearly over and its almost time for bed and the start of the work week. Time goes so fast. It was only this morning in a moment of clarity that I realized what a jerk I must have been as a child.
Yesterday we had the usually Auni breakfast, bacon, eggs and grits. Dianne always makes an extra large helping of grits enough that we have left overs that we can fry. I love these left overs and we had a bunch this morning, enough so that I made Spam one of my guilty pleasures. We did not eat bacon when I was growing up. I shall go` into this explanation some day but not today. The explanation is bizarre and would take longer then I am willing pledge to night. Don't let me forget though it's a great story. Anyway, Dianne indicated she loves fried mush especially with syrup. I rolled my eyes and began my tirade about how I hated fried mush when I was growing up. Primarily because fried mush smelled so good before I knew what was really being cooked. Usually corn meal mush fried up and cut into squared and served with syrup and sometimes Spam. I am sure I made a major spoiled fuss when I realized what we were having for breakfast. I am positive I hurt my mother's feeling. She just served me and I complained.
Since Dianne has been frying up grits I have loved them. Crispy and crunchy and great with the thinly fried stammers. Dianne made me realized that grits are like first cousins to corn meal. Somehow I felt when I was getting fried mush when I was a kid I was getting short changed somehow. I wasn't I was being a kid jerk. How stupid can I get? I am sorry mom. I am sorry for not eating what was set before me and being happy to have it. We were a house full of kids and you and dad were just doing the best you could in the 50's and 60's Thanks.
Today is Jessica's birthday. Jessica is my granddaughter and she is 14 years old. I dropped over to her place tonight for dinner and drop off our gift. Jessica is my son's step-daughter. I hate that term. Their apartment is not accessible to wheelchair and they are wonderful to include me as they do. We sat on the lawn and Mark cooked the hamburgers and hotdogs. We visited an watched the cousins play on swings and in the sandbox. I was shocked when toward the end of the evening when all the rest of the family emerged from the apartment especially the other grand parents. Hand shaking and hugs were exchanged. Inquiries as to how the summer has gone and personal health. Focusing on what major event is going on with your opposite number. They are building a house! Having problems with the builders but the house is coming along. Maybe be done in a couple of years...I just agreed and tried to keep a straight face.
They finally opened the gifts( cards with money). The other grandfather split so I took that as my leave too. Its good to be home and I am ready to start my new week.
The temperature is warm today must be in the 90's but 90 degrees feels different now how but not sweltering. This morning Auni said the day felt just perfect and the day did. Cool during the night Fall cool, cool enough to look for an extra blanket just in case a person needs one. But later the morning shook off the pre-autumn chill making for one of the most pleasant Sundays of the summer. If today was a saturday the day would be perfect for a ballgame.
The power seat in my van is broken, the seat will not move so I am land locked. However, Auni and I went up to the 711 and got milk and a Slurpee. Luckily I donot have anywhere to go this weekend so I will let the van set till Tuesday when I can drop it off at the shop. I know it's just a wire connection—should not take much to fix for the time being but it's Holiday I'll wait.
So happy holiday everyone an here are images take with the new camera.