Got John Prine singing I Remember Everything in my ear and can’t say if it is coincidence or something else but it doesn’t matter.
Cuz some of you should know better than do as you have done not that it would have changed outcomes but it solidifies my thoughts about some things and plans for what is to come.
Some cars can only be driven so long before you have to accept the ride has to end because the engineers no longer have the will or energy to maintain it.
That is life and you have to accept that not all join you for the whole journey.
So we turn on some thinking music and move forward for a bit taking a brief stop at the prior post and then moving forward just because.
I have been meaning to look up the hospice to see if my memory of is accurate.
If you haven’t been through this it might sound silly because it is only 2.5 years but so much of what happened then was at light speed.
Some of the memories have been blurred, fuzzy and or obscured by things but now that some time has passed more has floated to the surface and I am a touch the pot to see if it is hot kind of guy.
I don’t need to see the inside of the house because that I remember in great detail and that is where it felt like time stood still.
But the outside, well that is a different story.
ere I remember standing in the backyard talking to friends who came to visit to offer support and talking to others on the phone.
There were some of the prettiest sunsets I have ever seen during that time and more than once I thought about taking Dad outside even though that Morphine drip had sent him far away.
By the third of those 96 hour long days he wasn’t opening his eyes at all and it seemed like an awful lot of work to get him outside to feel the sun upon his face one last time.
I didn’t want to make it any harder on anyone just to do something that I wasn’t sure would make me feel better so I didn’t say anything.
Don’t have any regrets about it either, but I do remember thinking about how he would appreciate it, especially those sunsets.
And I remember watching the minivan that came to pick up his body drive up that long driveway and how I followed the driver back to the vehicle trying to not to tell him to open the bag Dad was in.
I remember one of the nurses who took care of him hugging me and encouraging me not to watch when they prepared his body for the trip to the mortuary.
That long driveway is where I stood outside and made some of the initial calls to say he was gone.
Mom, my middle sister and I went to Pickles, the deli in Newbury Park for breakfast that day. It was fitting, Dad loved breakfast.
I think I got an omelette and I know I drank my coffee black.
Had a few people ask what is coming next and told them they’ll find out as soon as I do.
That is not me being difficult, clever or a smart ass. It is my honest response.
I have some ideas and a mental roadmap I am operating off of but I don’t know exactly what comes next or the precise timeline.
It is all gut feeling and instinct.
I sense change and can almost see it out of the corner of my eye. Don’t know when, where or even how, but again, I sense it.
It is a little uncomfortable not having more details and more specifics because it makes it hard to plan but sometimes the best you can do is get comfortable in the mystery.
So that is what I am doing, getting comfortable. I anticipate it is all going to be improvements and better things down the road, even if it might be bumpy getting there.
And if I know anything for certain it is that I am going to get there wherever there is.
It is one thing I can count on and that is worth something during moments like this huh.
