T minus 1…

Star Date 06102016

Full on migraine…and why not. Awake at 0221, and Charlie is kicking and screaming. ABC, Easy as 1, 2, 3. Little Michael Jackson (reference The Green Mile)

Everything’s connected. John Coffey loved him some little Michael Jackson. He cured cancer with a touch. Coffee sounds great. Caffeine helps with headaches…and or causes them. I awoke with ABC running through Charlie’s head. All things connected. Easy as 1, 2, 3. Go figure.

We are there. The end. The beginning. Connected. Walked around the lake at North Park, last night, then enjoyed supper on the veranda, with Jess. Had good conversation. Edited the list of people to reach out to during and or after surgery. Laughed. Connected. Les and Sonya called whilst we were en route home. They are headed to the doctor today…a road trip, so Sonya can get marked for very pointed radiation on her lung. Cancer…The Green Mile…connected. Even with the sh** of life, Les and I are able to find something to laugh at. My biotch. Connected. Heard from Rob H and Dawn, after we got home. Good conversation. Always some laughter there as well. Connected. Then Norm…who was talking with Jess whilst I was on with Rob and Dawn. In typical Norm fashion, offering his hand in whatever he could do to help…to be present. Frater meus. Connected. FaceTime with baby Logan, Michael, and T (Casey). Laughed. Listened. Connected.

I am awake far too early in a day that will both drag and go too quickly. Gym, breakfast with sis and Steve. Dinner with Matt and Melissa. A slightly belated anniversary celebration. Cramming in as much life as possible. I am given today. I am promised nothing else. I feel pretty clear. Somber but not negative. Aware. Alive. Feeling. I used to have nightmares about dying. I had them every night from the time I was in first grade through my first year of junior high. I was scared…to…well, death…of dying. Of my parents dying. Of people I knew, dying. Death. In an effort to help me get over this, my parents took me to a funeral. Aunt Harriet. She was my great aunt. I may have met her once whilst she was alive. A slightly and petite lady…at least compared to my Uncle Charlie…hmmmm. Connected. At any rate, they thought I should be exposed to what death really was…that somehow it would snap or adjust my thinking. It did not. I do not know where my brothers were or why they were not there. I was maybe in second grade. I can still picture sitting behind the curtain in the family section. A sheer…almost like one-way glass. Harriet was propped up in what is called semi-fowler’s position. The position and name do not matter inasmuch as I was able to see her face and felt she could see mine…through death and through the curtain. As the service droned on, we got to the end and the procession of people started going up to the casket. I wanted no part of this. People leaned in and kissed her. Weird. All I know is it was almost our turn. I took the opportunity, when our pew cleared and started out to the casket, to turn and run out a back door, down a busy street…with my mother giving chase…in a dress. The nightmares worsened. Until one day, they just stopped. Since that day in early junior high, I have never had an issue with death or dying. …not my own, at any rate. The only blood grandmother I ever knew was my mom’s mom. She had cancer and was in hospice care. I was in ninth grade. I was not as close to her as Wes was. He was her favorite, and she was his. I remember a conversation my dad had with each of us boys, about a month or so before grandma died. He and mom asked each of us if we would have any issue with grandma coming to live …and die, at our house. My brothers hesitated…Mark was only in third or fourth grade. There was no hesitation with me. I remember my dad being surprised that I was able to give a sound reason as to why she should be able to die at our house. It just made sense. Alas, she did not want to burden us. Dad pulled us from school and took us to the facility. He asked if I wanted to see her. Again, no hesitation. I walked in and watched. Amazed. Cheyne-Stokes breathing…synonymous with death. A close friend had lost his dad a few months before my grandmother died, and his nephew (a kid my age) about a year after my grandma. After my grandmother died, I did not cry. I do not know why except to say that I had learned how to compartmentalize. It is still funny to me…not haha, more third eye…that the very people who forced the death experience upon me, were surprised that I did not cry over the loss of my grandmother. Tom U, a long time friend was asked to get me to cry…to feel. To express my loss in the form of tears. He did not try. He simply did what he always did with me. Talked and listened. Connected. I have said before that I have seen a lot of death. More than my fair share. I have saved lives, brought lives in to the world, and escorted a very few out at their request. I no longer fear it. That said….my long story and stories…I do not welcome it, either. I welcome it for Charlie, but not for his host. I am surrounded by life. By love. I am cared for. I am protected. I am family to many. I am blessed. I am humbled by the outpouring of support by my people. I am honored. I am loved.

If I should not wake, I am aware of how life without me transpires. People will go about theirs. About living. Memories will turn to forget. I get it. I would ask that my life be celebrated, not mourned. What did I add? How did I contribute? Did I help? Did I make a difference? Laughter. Song. Stories. Memories. Connection.

I forgot to mention the thank yous for all whom are praying. I heard from Jay’s parents, who have an entire church praying. JT, Nicole, and others from work. The Zempels and Renfros…and these are just the ones I know of. Thank you to all. I also spoke with Michael…apparently he did some sort of church burning thing on my behalf…he might have said candle…unclear. Thank you, Michael.

Early breakfast today with Karen, Red, and Steve….sorry, Steve…pic had to be posted. Though no Disney Italian music accompanies the scene, we do look a little like dogs:

Lady & the Tramp

As expected, the rest of they day has gone in quick and slow spurts. teehee. We will have our anniversary dinner at Monterey Bay Fish Grotto, with Matt M and his wife, then count down the hours till the 0500 arrival time at the hospital. What? Yes…you are correct. No fish for me. They do a great filet mignon and potatoes. Can’t beat the view:

Spotlight friend. Paul M. I met Paul after starting at Firestone. He was a youngen. A very achieved and way too smart for his own good, youngen. Hated ladders…which is interesting in roofing. Helluva teacher/trainer. Just the right amount of smartass to settle some of the older codgers, who felt he knew nothing. Paul and I did not hit it off right away. Let’s just say there was a misunderstanding surrounding some flying coasters at his gourd, at a company function. The day after the incident, I asked what his deal was and he said he’d tell me later. I pretty much bugged him till he did. We got it straightened out in a hurry. Paul is a learner. Information, people, and so on. Does not like to be unprepared, and to this day, I have never seen him unprepared. We would chat and joke and chat some more. To this day, I cannot tell you why he would say we are friends. From my angle, it is easy. I respect the hell out of him. He busts his hump to show that he is capable…and he is. One of our many FS tech trips to Vegas, we had finished for the day and did not really want to hang in the casino and drink. We walked the streets…came across a gent on the sky bridge who had a cardboard sign that read something like, “Kick me in the nuts for 20 bucks.” There were four of us for which I wish we still had the video. We all pitched in and elected Paul…and he kind of elected himself. The video would show you that Paul actually stretched for the event. He kicked this guy square on and lifted him off the deck. We laughed till he cried. Others watched in amazement. We came back through and I took a might swing as well. Then there was this drunk gal that toe kicked the dude’s anus. That was funniest of all. We scattered after that. We have laughed about that ever since. Many dinners together both at their place and ours, when we lived in Indy. Many nights out at a place I cannot recall the name of, but Paul, Courtney, Jess, and I would go there and get tater tots and listen to a 70’s cover band. Great times. Paul and Courtney married a couple weeks before Jess and I. I was honored to co best man the event. Though we have both sucked at keeping in touch, we did get to spend a few minutes with them last weekend. Son Sam…not son of Sam…in tow. Paul is still very much even tempered. I miss that. I’ll have one last Maker’s in his honor, tonight.

Alright…time to get ready for dinner. Final thought. To all the people I am blessed to have in my life, thank you for being there for me. My love to you all. Jess has the digits and may even hit the blog or something called a Face Plant…er…Book. See you soon.