How To Complicate Your Life Without Even Trying

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Friday was one of those days I’m used to where attempting to get one simple little thing done requires completion of many other tasks first. You know, one where you go look for your car keys and on the way you find the glass of water you were looking for before you had to go to the bathroom but there wasn’t any toilet paper which required a trip to the basement where you discovered your drill wouldn’t work because the battery is dead and you left your Dremel tool outside dangerously near the wet part of the patio? Ultimately, all that got done was the Dremel tool was returned to the tool bench and you’re left standing there wondering why you’re there. Complicating all that, sometimes, is when Diane innocently asks for assistance on something, or gives me a task to do later but if I don’t do it right away I’ll forget and I’ll fail her.

Now, where was I?

Oh, ya. I got the truck keys so I could warm up the truck for a dump run, but the license plate expired last December, and the new one was sitting on the table by my computer. It’s been there for six months. Then the truck wouldn’t start because the battery was dead as a doornail and you just gotta wonder how a doornail can possibly be dead. C’mon! There isn’t one doornail in all of existence that was ever alive … oh, I see now … that’s pretty dead, isn’t it?

The truck … battery … the dead battery in the truck was one I retained from one of the old Winnebagos we used to have and it worked just fine clear up to the point where I moved the truck last December. It didn’t fit in the battery tray so it sat a little cattywampus next to the radiator, but the hood closed so it was good. I hunted around in the garage for a while, looking for the original truck battery, which had died at some point before last December and had been recharged and placed in a prominent location where I was sure to find it. And I did … it was behind a spare piece of sheetrock I had propper up against Jeff’s drafting table in the garage. I knew that but was distracted by all the other nifty stuff in the garage … like the organ and the player piano. Probably not the best place for those things, but that’s where they are, and that’s where they’ll stay until I can gather up enough people to help me carry them downstairs.

To get the old battery out I had to find my wrenches, which were in the basement where they belonged. I only needed a 1/2 inch wrench but I took all of them with me. It seemed like the right thing to do because if I took just the one, it would never make it back to the holder. They have to stay together, always! Well, most of the time, anyway.

The truck has a BBC engine – that’s Big Block Chevy. It started out as a 454 but wound up a 462 after the engine was rebuilt but a guy that builds race car engines. Plenty beefy to pull pretty much anything, which was our intention. To start it requires a great deal of pumping the accelerator, like 30-40 times, before attempting to engage the starter then keep pumping as you do that. You keep pumping, but let the starter rest a bit, then to it again. Usually it starts on the third try. Once it’s warmed up, however, it starts just fine without turning a full revolution. Amazing.

Once started, I pulled it into the driveway in order to load up more junk for the dump, bur still had to replace the license plate. Then it turned out to be a good thing that I brought all the wrenches because now I needed a 3/8 to get the nuts off the screws holding the license plates in place. They were so rusted, however, that didn’t work so I got my Dremel,  because I knew exactly where it was, and cut the nuts off the screws.

I put the new license plate in the back window of the truck, but one of these day’s I’ll bolt it in place. Just not now.

In the back of the truck were all the windows I removed from the 1968 Winnebago I salvaged, as well as all the residue from that evolution … like little bits of wood, some walls, and parts of the floor. It took me a while to extract all the glass from the window frames, and only one broke. So now I have 7 nice panes of glass for which I have absolutely no use. The thought of dropping them in the clear glass bin at the dump doesn’t set well with me so I’ll find a place to hide them in the basement. All of the wood bit were removed to the burn pile so all that’s left is about six pounds of real trash that will fit in the garbage can.

By the time all of that was done, it was time for me to shower up for the trip to Portland and our TVCC meeting. We had to go because the guest speaker was there at my request. It was the right thing to do. On the way we stopped at Red Robin to have dinner with five other TVCC members and Diane and I split a bacon cheeseburger. We split so I could have a chocolate malt. I LOVE those things! the meeting was good, the speaker spake very well, as I knew he would, and I was kinda offered a job writing database reports. Go figure. I’m going to have to think about that for a while because it would involve having to learn something new and I don’t know if my brain could handle that. The new stuff might overwrite something important that I’ll need, like forgetting what toilet paper is for. Something like that.

Today I fell victim to an old routine by taking an after breakfast nap that last three hours. As a result, I didn’t get started doing anything of consequence until 10am, or so. But, I did something important … wire brushed all the rust off, and painted primer on the laundry tub that I dismantled earlier in the week. The painting was simple, but the wire brushing part proved to be hazardous because I used a wire brush wheel attached to a plug in power drill. Those things spin faster, and last longer than a battery drill. And, when the wire brush gets tangled up in a T-shirt, painful things happen. Like, it could give you a terminal left nipple injury … well, not terminal, and not even bandaid worthy, but it hurts a lot … so I’m told. OK .. Yes, it was me … and it’s going to leave a mark. Now that I’ve admitted to that I may as well add that I nearly took out my right testicle, too. I still have a stomach ache from that one.

On that, I believe I’m done here, for now, except for this picture … it’s of Diane, her Mom Jean, and Jennie at Cedric’s graduation. Jeran took it and it’s evident that he’s centered on his Mom. But, I like it …

… and one of Alicia on her trampoline in Connecticut, from last week …

Cedric’s Graduation !!

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It’s quiet in the house, again, since I finished putting away the clean dishes and reloading the dishwasher with dirty ones. We always leave the sink full of dirty dishes at night in case one of the animals needs a snack in the middle of the night. Sometimes, we get up to find the plates spic and span, ready to go back on the shelf. I suppose we could simplify it for them if we just scattered the dishes around on the floor, but that’s just too much bending over for me. Last night they, however, they didn’t do a very good job because Breezie decided to spend the night outside and didn’t do her part. Oh, well. The dishwasher will get what they didn’t.

Yesterday afternoon Cedric graduated from the 8th grade, and has been given permission to move on to High School in the fall. A couple of months ago he was pretty concerned about this big change in his life, but his voice finally changed so it’s no longer the fear it was. We’re really proud of him because he’s the first person in the family to make it all the way to High School … except for his Mom … and Dad. And Diane … there may be others, but I can’t think of who they might be right now. Anyway, we’re proud of him.

Since he expressed interest in joining the golf team once he starts, Diane, I and Diane’s Mom, Jean, gave Cedric a set of golf clubs that came from his Great Grandpa, Mel, Diane’s Dad. Being the empath that he is, it was a meaningful event for him, and he was briefly overwhelmed. Now we’re making plans to go golfing together which will be fun. Perhaps he’ll help me figure out what I’m doing wrong.

Cedric has been attending the Arthur Academy in Yankton for years. It’s a charter school who’s students are chosen to attend by lottery. The number of students in the lottery are diminished by the fact that not everyone wishes to drive their kids 10 miles out into the country for school. Their loss. The school has excellent teachers and a great curriculum. Cedric’s done very well. Right behind him are Lydia, and Jeran, who also attend Arthur and will be entering 8th, and 7th grades respectively.

Before the ceremony began, I gave Jeran my camera so he could take some pictures. He’s got an avid interest in photography which I want to encourage. Here’s one he took …

In case you are new to the family, or have just forgetten who they are, this is Diane, Diane’s Mom, Jean, and Cedric’s Mom, Jennifer. Jennifer is my First Wife’s daughter.

After graduation, which was held upstairs in the Yankton Grange building, we retired to the first floor to partake of a potluck of goodies provided by the parents of those graduating and, I’m sure, anyone else who might have had a notion of baking cookies or cake. There was a lot of stuff to eat. I had one cookie, a piece of Jennie’s cake, and a tiny little root beer float. Just enough to spike my blood surgar, but not good enough for supper since there wasn’t much protein in there. I looked.

We all came to our house to continue the graduation party which is where Cedric got his golf clubs. Lydia wanted to take some pictures so borrowed the camera and headed outside. It was still pretty light outside, but we still saw the flash going off once in a while as she made her way around the house. We are now the proud owner of pictures of pretty much every flower in and around the house. And the cat, Breezie, who followed her. Her’s are the flowers, the rest are mine. The kid pics are Jeran, Lydia, and Cedric.

Next time I would add so many pictures. Gets boring looking at flowers, don’t you think?

It’s 8:45 and Diane is still sleeping or I would be off to the basement to reassemble and paint the vintage 1957 laundry tray I dismantled yesterday. I was working on that when Diane redirected my efforts to help her spruce up the basement which evolved into a discussion with DirecTV about why that receiver didn’t work. They couldn’t fix it over the phone so scheduled a service call for Saturday. Then we moved the TV container across the room, reconnected it, and it worked fine. So, I cancelled the service call. Now it looks like an entertainment room when you sit on the couch. Today we’ve vowed to throw things away that have been accumulating down there for the past 35 years. That’s mostly hollow bugs left by spiders because we’ve only lived here for 5 years.

There was good news from the East Coast Cate Family (ECCF) – Ruth got her lawn mowed! I applaud her for tackling it because it’s not a task to take lightly. She has a rider to use, but the last time she rode it she got a speeding ticket from one of her neighbors, who is a detective, so sticks to the walk behind John Deere. I suspect she has a John Deere mower because Lauralaura made her get one. Lauralaura, mother of Jeffrey David and Arianna, is a John Deere enthusiast. I was going to say “fanatic” but thought that might be a little harsh. I do, however, think she would agree.

As for Ruth’s other grandchildren … Heather and Justin are off on their honeymoon in The Dominican Republic, Nurse Sarah is back at Hartford Hospital running point in the emergency room to keep the doctors on task, Susan is busy shipping ‘things’ all over the country (AR Express, Inc. … use them), Alicia is wishing she lived on the west coast because she has school til July (I think), and all their parents are doing what parents do … making everything better for their kidlets. God Bless Them All.

Yesterday and The Day Before

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I returned to Oregon Monday evening and was greeted at the exit gate by my first wife who  took me home after a brief stop at Arby’s for a sandwich. It’s funny how a person’s mind works to adapt to current conditions so I was still on Connecticut Time, expecting Connecticut Trees, and Connecticut license plates, but everything was Oregon, Oregon, Oregon, just as it should be. So, as I nibbled my food, gazing at my lovely bride, I flipped that switch in my head and returned home mentally, as well as physically. Though it was sad to leave Ruth, and all my Girls and Guys “over there”, it was time to move forward. The mission was accomplished and I think we are all better for it. My one regret is that everyone else from the Left Coast couldn’t go, also. But, life gets in the way sometimes giving us other areas of concern that require our attention. I understand.

By 9:30 pm Monday evening I determined that it was well past my bedtime, even though there was still a bit of daylight remaining. I’ve always found it difficult to justify going to bed when it isn’t dark. Makes me feel like I’m cheating, or something. But, I was tired. Diane blessed me with a kiss and sent me on my way where I slumbered all the way to 5:13 am Tuesday morning. I was still on Connecticut Time. It was quickly apparent that the switch I flipped didn’t include that aspect of updating my brain.

So, I got up, fed the animals, did my pitiful little exercises, took my meds, and even ate breakfast. All without making enough noise to wake Diane. It was a successful endeavor, up to this point, which was good because it sometimes isn’t. I drop things a lot. Like just now … I went to get up and get my 2nd cup of coffee and knocked my iPad keyboard on the floor. Very noisy. But, I do not hear any stirrings from the East Wing, so all is well. She sleeps on.

Back to yesterday … after Diane got up I shucked my jammies in favor of some work clothes and went about the never ending task of moving things around in my shop in an effort to seek order. But, it’s a hopeless venture. The only way to make it “right” is to just stuff everything in a bunch of Avon boxes, donate it, and start over with new shiny tools. Easy to say, impossible to do because lots of my tools, and assorted screws and nails have been in the family for far too long to just casually toss them aside. I still find the need to dig around in my shoe box full of really sharp screws, nuts, and bolts, looking for the one I need for one project or another, and I know, way in the back of my head somewhere, that doing this takes far more time and effort than a trip to ACE to get the exact “thing” I need.

I digress … what’s new there?

After re-disovering the futility of cleaning up my shop I had this image of Lyle’s shop. It’s not large, but he managed to maintain it in a manner which I found commendable by keeping it messy. Actually, messy is just a visual clue that it was well used. And, I would (almost) bet that he knew where everything was out there. Now that he’s gone, so is that knowledge and really important “stuff” will languish on that work bench until there is an overpowering need to recover the space. I think it should be a family affair where everything is removed and divided up for transport, leaving only a hammer, a pair of pliers, sixteen screws, seven nails, and nine screwdrivers of various size and configuration. That’s all Ruth needs. Maybe a crescent wrench for when she feels daring. That’s all.

I continued fiddling around until Diane gave me a rudder and refocused my attention on the laundry room. As some of you may recall, I removed the laundry tub some time ago and rearranged the washer and dryer, placing them next to each other which I couldn’t do previously because the laundry tub was between them. A consequence of removing the tub was the open drain with no trap. With no trap, sewer gas was allowed into the laundry room which caused one of us a great deal of concern because the other one was oblivious as he wasn’t here. This required a temporary fix until the tub can be replaced and it was accomplished with a small piece of aluminum foil wrapped over the end of the offending pipe.

Then I took the laundry tub into the back yard and partially dismantled it so I could power wash it, preparing it for a new paint job. Power washing required me to move that unit from the garage to the back yard. When I checked the oil, it was pretty gnarly looking so I decided to change it. After searching the mechanism for an hour or so, I couldn’t find any obvious method of draining the old oil so I went to my work bench in search of the owner’s manual. It wasn’t there, so I went to my computer to look online, but couldn’t find it there, either. So, I just tipped the entire unit upside down over an old coffee can until it quit dripping. Before doing that, I actually made sure the gas tank was empty so I wouldn’t drip gas all over. Finally, it was done, and the washer started right up, just in time for lunch. We had BLTs.

After lunch, and a short nap, I returned to my task and power washed the tub. It still needs the attention of a wire brush, but we have some nifty paint that totally encapsulates rust, making it paintable. But, I want it smooth and pretty before I reinstall it. This may require the purchase of a new laundry tub.

Once the laundry tub was sufficiently scrubbed, I decided to mow the front yard because the grass, though it rained in the morning, was dry. To get the lawn mower out I had to fire up the downstairs air compressor so I could inflate one of the tires on the trailer, which was in the way, and add more air to the mower’s front tires so it would steer easily.

I forgot … somewhere in there I took the furnace filters out and used the upstairs air compressor to blow them out. I do that occasionally, when Diane tells me to. I think I did this before power washing the tub because I have a vague memory of being dry when I did it.

I love my lawn mower. It always starts right up even though I abuse it … maybe not like Larry and Todd would, but it’s well used. My mower and I buzzed around the house to the front yard and had it done, lickty split. I only took the top couple of inches off, so the bagger held pretty much all of the clippings. So, I continued around to the side yard and did that. Things were going to well, I just kept going around to the back yards and finished it all. On the my mower it takes me about 2 hours to do all of this. If I just let the mower fling the clippings all over the place it wouldn’t take as long, but I suck it all up into the bagger and dump it down by the burn pile. I’ve been doing that for years and I’m always amazed at how the grass just seems to sink into the ground. I never turn it, I just keep adding to it, and it never gets taller than about 3 feet. I suspect there’s some pretty mushy ground under that pile, but I’m not inclined to look because I sometimes forget and step into the pile while emptying the bags, and it’s like thick, liquid grass. Nasty smelling, and will no doubt devour a shoe if given the chance.

By the time I was done the clock said I only had about an hour before Lydia’s game at Campbell Park. So, I took a shower to wash off all the grass.

When we got to the park, the girls were working on the infield, to get rid of the standing water. It looked like the games (it was a double header against Clatskanie) were going to be a lot of fun for the girls, especially if they had to slide, And they were, and they did.

Though it’s June, the weather is pretty iffy. The day wasn’t too bad, but the evening was very cold. Everyone was wrapped in blankies, except me. I had a manly blanket that I shared with Cedric. Thankfully, Jeran was also there and was happpy to take my camera and snap a few shots of the girls playing, leaving me to huddle under the blanket. Lydia made it worse for pretty  much everyone watching because she chose to play without long sleeves, unlike everyone else on both teams. Made me shivver just to see her out there. She did well both pitching and fielding. I think the temp was around 9 degrees, or so.

At one point I was on the phone with Jack when Diane got my attention to stop and watch because Lydia was at bat, bases loaded. She fouled off a couple of pitches then was called out on a pitch that was easily a foot outside. I grumbled, loudly, but the ump didn’t turn on me. Instead of grumbling, Diane got out of her chair, more than once, and took a walk behind the bleachers. Lyd’s team won both games, 11-0 and 12-4, so the bad calls were inconsequential. Still … why teach the girls one thing, then call the game using different rules?

Between the games Lydia came out to visit and wanted to look at some of the pictures Jeran had been taking, so gave her the camera. She buzzed through them and came across a special photo I have of some of my favorite girls giving me the universal gesture normally reserved for bad drivers who tick you off. She said, “Grandpa, what’s this….?” So, I told her the significance, naming everyone in the picture, explaining that they were all Cousins she’s never met, and they were just sending along a special Connecticut “Howdy” to the West Coast. She knew who the Aunt in the middle is, and I’m sure she understood the gesture. She’s 13.

During the 2nd game Jennie showed up while she was on her break from work. She works at Safeway doing pretty much anything that requires to be done in the store. Apparently she had a date with some boxes later because she had a nifty little knife strapped to her waist. She went to get some nachos, her dinner, and left most of them because time ran out on her. She did get to see Lydia bat, however. It was the only base hit she got and it resulted in at least one RBI. Maybe more. I blinked a couple times right about then.

The games were over around 8:30 and we were both tired when we got home so wound things up for the day. I was in bed before 10pm which is a modern day record for me, except in Connecticut it was almost 1am. I’m still not totally connected to Oregon clocks, yet.

Gotta quit now because I’m hungry and my fingers are running out of ink.

Flying Away

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As I packed my things this morning, the finality of this journey came home to me. Though the family assured me that my presence was very meaningful to them all, I know for sure that I’m taking away more than I brought.

Thank you Ruth, Larry, Cheryl, Carol, Allen, Martin, Valerie, Susan, Sarah, Laura Laura, Heather, Jay, Justin, Alicia, Julie, Jeffrey, and Arianna for making me feel more important than I really am.

I’m humbled.

Now we must all go our own ways for a short time and heal from this loss. It’s an unfillable void in our lives, but time will round off the edges making it more tolerable. Really, it will. You all know this is true.

Now, about that last group photo of the girls … that’s going to be framed.

Love you all, and Thanks to my lovely bride for this opportunity. ILY

It Is Done

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Today was an emotional drain on me because everything kind of cascaded to a close, and I wasn’t ready for it. Like fireworks … just when they’re at their best, they wink out.

Now, I don’t expect that kind of finality to this because I feel connected now, unlike I ever was in the past. Sure, we’re related, and all that, but it’s always been a long distant relationship that really didn’t require emotional involvement. We’re way beyond that, now, and I don’t regret a second of it.

The course of this day began relatively early, around 7am. With Ruth and I in the same room I feared there may be a logjam, relatively speaking, in the bathroom area, but that didn’t happen. We managed to co-habitate without a problem. We didn’t argue even one time. Actually, we rarely saw each other yesterday while she was with the wedding party, and by the time we got back to the room last night we were both pretty beat. She was out like a light. Neither of us took our cpap’s so it was a race to sleep before the other started snoring. She won, hands down, and really didn’t snore. I’m sure I did.

After rising, we went down to the eating area and rearranged all the tables into one long unit, then filled all the chairs. I think there were about 20 of us sitting there munching on waffles, bagels, sipping coffee and hot chocolate, and having a great time visiting.

Then it was time to depart. Cheryl, Allen, and Laura remained behind as the other seven of us headed back to Connecticut. Before getting too far, however, we stopped at a Dunkin Donuts for coffee – DD is the coffee place for this part of the world and I can see why. They are about half the price of Starbucks, and it’s pretty good coffee. Still, a Starbucks would be good once in a while. Guess I’m hooked on that franchise … that and my hazelnut creamer.

As on the trip over, I sat in the back as Sarah wielded her ambulance driving skills, getting us back to the house in fine shape. I spent most of my time editing yesterday’s blog entry, something I’ve never done in the past. Normally you get what I type on the first pass. But, I needed to ensure details were correct, and I added pictures as Diane requested.

Shortly after getting home, we had tuna sandwiches in order to prime our tastebuds for the BBQ steak and/or chicken that was being served up for supper. The rest of the family was coming back to attend in this gala event. Larry and I put the BBQ on the little back porch, from under the covered area, just as the first little pitter patter of rain started. After he got it going, it rained in earnest, and has been doing so pretty much the rest of the day. But, the steaks we cooked beautifully. Don’t know about the chicken, but it looked good. Sarah made the salad, and everyone else brought something to share. I didn’t bring anything except an appetite and apparently that was adequate.

It was an excellent meal filled with many conversations going on at the same time and made me feel right at home. There was a brief pause when Laura wanted to show us a video of Jeffrey, but her SD chip is Sony specific so I couldn’t display it on the iPad. So, in an inspirational move, I suggested we use Ruth’s laptop instead. It had a card reader.

So, as directed, Laura stuffed the card in the reader slot and in promptly disappeared for the same reason I couldn’t show it on the iPad. It was a brilliant move on my part and will be, no doubt, the source of a few stories about me and my technical prowess. Both Larry and I worked on it for a while and, at one point, I snapped off the end of a seam ripper that fell into the slot with the missing card. The seam ripper seemed like a good idea at the time because toothpicks didn’t work.

After making things worse, I backed away and left the rescue to Larry who managed to get the card, and the sharp pointy tip of the seam ripper out of the slot. Thankfully, the computer still works just fine.

Soon it was time for everyone to filter out and head home themselves. It was a sad moment for each of them, and sad for me because as each one departed, my sadness compounded. I’ve only been here a week, but it seems I’ve been here forever. It’s that comfortable. Perhaps if I was required to do something constructive, or meaningful, my tune might change, but I doubt it.

Now it’s time for me to stop and go to bed. My plane leaves at 2:30 tomorrow afternoon and I must be at the airport by 1pm. After getting up, that time will fly, I have no doubts.

I would add a picture, but do not have the energy to look through them right now. Since arriving, I’ve added about 3,000 pictures to my iPad. That includes all the wedding pictures taken from three cameras. Once, home, I’ll use my computer to make it right.

The Wedding

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Today was the big day for Heather & Justin. It was also a sad day. Bittersweet for Ruth, for today would have been her and Lyle’s 40th wedding anniversary. But, I’m getting ahead of myself, because before all of that, we had to make the trip to Saratoga Springs.

We were up early, like 6:30 or so, I think. Not wanting to forget something potentially important, I put everything I owned into a small Target bag, got my camera, and climbed into the back of Ruth’s Toyota. Sarah drove because I only had a vague notion of where we were going. We followed Larry and Valerie in their Mustang convertible, and Carol and Martin in their new BMW. We were a small parade of Connecticut vehicles winding our way through Massachusetts and NW past Albany, New York to Saratoga Springs … I already said that, didn’t I?

The trip went fairly quickly for me because I read my book on the iPad the entire way except for a couple of times when I was asked what the next exit was and which way to turn. Sarah did that because I had the GPS running on the iPad just for backup and they wanted confirmation that Larry and Valerie were doing it right. Easy trip.

When we got to the last exit, the GPS took us the wrong direction so we were about a mile off on the location of the hotel. I reset the stupid thing and we found it no problem the 2nd time. It’s a Comfort Inn. We got here pretty early because we had all the flowers for the wedding, and Ruth needed to get her portable steamer here to undo the wrinkles in the lady’s dresses. Once we got our stuff into the room, about 11:00 am, all the women disappeared so I just sat in the lobby waiting to see what was going to happen. Turns out, there wasn’t a lot going on in the lobby, and it was time to be hungry so I went to a Five Guys with Martin and we got hamburgers which we brought back to eat in the lobby. We also got a grilled chicken thing for Sarah. She wanted something healthy. Probably because she’s a nurse.

Time passed, I ate a few cookies at the registration desk, then people started filtering in to the lobby. I went outside and talked to some of the younger guests, and wedding party members, and explained how bad it is for them to smoke, which they already knew, then went back to the lobby. I initially thought is was going to be a pretty boring wait to tell the truth, but that was OK. Then new faces started showing up. I struck up a conversation with an older lady, with a crutch, to get the story on all the tattoos she was displaying. I’ve learned that every tattoo has meaning for those who get them. That’s true, mostly. Some folks get tattoos and don’t know it until the next morning when they take a shower and discover the new, and sometimes inappropriate, graphics adorning their previously unadorned bodies. How fun would that be?

Anyway. I got to visit with people I didn’t know and had cookies. Sometimes it just doesn’t get any better than that. I did participate in the evolution to move some cars to the Knights of Columbus lodge, about eleventy miles away, so we wouldn’t have to car pool back to the hotel. That’s because all the wedding girls road from the hotel in a Lincoln Navigator limo. I followed them in the Toyota. All by myself. Alone.

Pictures in hotel lobby, heading for the limo …

Arianna

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Sarah with Arianna and Jeffrey David

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Heather – the bride

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Once we got to the lodge, things moved quickly. All the girls got inside and some guy, lined us all up in the lobby in the order we would enter. I was the only guy there who got to do it twice … once to deliver Ruth to her table, then again so Cheryl would have something to hang on to so she wouldn’t fall down in her new high heels. She held on real tight. I, of course, was dressed totally inappropriately because all the other guys were in suits, or a tuxes. Me? I wore jeans, my cowboy boots, my string tie, and a festive, light brown sport coat. It was the same outfit I wore on the plane to get here, and the same one I wore to the wake, and the funeral. Though it’s getting to be a bit gamey, no one seemed to mind. Cheryl even gave me my very own flower for my lapel. Nifty. It had a magnet to hold it in place, but I didn’t discover that until after the wedding when I was playing with it.

Once I delivered Cheryl to her table I sat down. Thankfully, Sarah was taking pictures with my camera so captured everyone entering the room. It was a gala affair and I was happy Sarah took the initiative to do that. Here’s what I looked like with Cheryl on my arm …

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It was a nice ceremony. Very simple and elegant, conducted by a gentleman with very long hair. Once the vows were exchanged, the party began. First, it was a buffet dinner with light, soft background music provided by a real DJ parked in the corner. After the wedding party went to get their food, it was a buffet, the DJ started calling table numbers. We were at table 6, however, and didn’t want to wait, so we crashed the line. It was warranted, however, because Ruth needed to eat … me too … it had been a while since either of us had eaten anything (lobby cookies excluded) and we were getting weak. No one seemed to mind. The DJ even quit calling numbers and just turned everyone loose. It was chaos as everyone raced to get in line before everything was gone.

The food was very good … Italian. I only ate one plate full and quit. Diane would be proud of me. Then I sat there and watched all the young people dance until they got all sweaty. They were having a real good time. I got all sweaty just watching them. I realize that can be “taken” many ways, depending on the way your mind bends. Anyway, watching wore me right out. Little Arianna and Jeffrey David, the bridesmaid’s, Laura’s, children, who were the ring bearer and flower girl, were running and sliding across the floor having a good time. It was fun to watch and, again, made me sweaty just thinking about all that energy being expended without any evidence. Arianna (4) started with a white floor length dress but polished a great deal of the floor when she discovered she could take off running then drop to her knees and slide to a stop. Jeffrey was doing his six-year-old version of break dancing. It was exhausting.

Finally it was time for the cake, which was made out of lemon, red velvet, and chocolate cupcakes. Very cool. The only time I’ve seen that done before is by Jennifer, my favorite daughter, when she makes birthday cakes for the kidlets. Really a nice way to do large cakes. I ate two lemon ones.

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Then the party started getting louder, and louder, interspersed with soft quiet music for slow dancing. During one of those moments, Cheryl came over and asked me to dance with her. We were the only ones on the floor for the entire song so it was pretty special for me. These kids (Larry, Carol, Cheryl, Susan, Heather, Laura, Sarah), and their husbands (Allen, Martin) and wife (Valerie), have all made me feel special the entire time I’ve been here. Kinda makes me want to plan another trip east in the not too distant future. I know Diane would love it.

Soon the music volume rose to the level determined by scientists to be that at which folks older than 58 were forced to leave the area. It’s like those high pitched devices used to keep rats out of your basement, or those whistles you put on your bumper so the deer know where to look before they get hit. So, we bid adieu to the bride and groom and headed back to the hotel. It was time. We were tired.

Here are a few random pictures. I don’t have any idea which ones they are because in the blog it just a bunch of HTML coding that I only kinda understand.

Dr. Allen Gouse, the Dad

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Sarah and Susan

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Bridesmaids

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Thanks to all who are following this journey. I appreciate your comments.

The Lull Before The Wedding

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Today was a free day for Ruth and me because most of the family left for Saratoga Springs, near Ballston Spa, for the wedding early this morning. The plan is for the remainder of us to head that direction before 9am tomorrow. We’re taking the flowers and will leave as soon as they arrive. The hope is that we can get the flowers delivered earlier so we can leave earlier because Ruth wants to steam the dresses of the wedding party prior to pictures. Valerie is taking the girly pictures of the preparation, and Larry is doing the guys. I’m doing candid shots of everyone else.

Travel arrangements are iffy, at this point, because Ruth’s car currently has five passengers (Ruth, Martin, Carol, Sarah, and me) in addition to whatever luggage is needed, and all the flowers. Could be a little crowded, so I’m guessing Carol and Martin will drive their Beemer over so there will be room for everyone. Whatever is decided will be reported in tomorrow’s blog. One thing is for sure, we’re glad to be here, and not there right now. Sarah and Ruth have fielded many calls throughout the day from Cheryl about details, and they both said it sounds like a mad house there, What fun. Ruth really got worn out as the afternoon departed, and tried to use the TV remote to call someone.

Here, it was nice and quiet. Ruth went to the doc for a followup and was told things are looking much better and that she can have a sip of champaign tomorrow, but no more. Kinda like just drape her tongue in a glass is all.

Before she left the house, I went to back Lyle’s van out of the garage so I could liberate the mower, but the van wouldn’t start. Sounded like a weak battery. I called AAA and they showed up in about 10 minutes and discovered that one of the cells was bad. It had a charge, but not enough amps to kick the starter. As Ruth dashed to Carol’s car she paid for the new battery and I filled out the paperwork as she drove away. So, it cost $122 to get the mower out of the garage this morning. But, the van works fine, now.

I used Ruth’s new John Deere walk behind the mower and did the entire lawn in about 3 hours. I tried wearing my cowboy boots but that didn’t work so well so I decided to go barefoot. I rolled up my jeans and plodded along, stepping on various sharp things in the yard, but not bad enough to draw blood. It just hurt a little and made me limp differently than I normally do. I got over it.

Here’s what the mowed lawn looks like.

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Nice job, huh? It’s a HUGE yard.

When I was done my feet were predictably green so I shook off as much grass as I could and went directly to the bath tub. Sitting on the edge, I scrubbed my feet until the water turned clear, then dried them off and went to take a break. About then, Ruth returned with good news from her doc’s appointment with the good news. She had a soda in her hand which was a sure indicator she’d had something to eat. All I had to that point was the eggs, bacon and toast that Ruth forced me to cook this morning. Since I’m not used to big breakfasts, it stayed with me for a long time. Knowing I should, I made a sandwich, using the remainder of the ham and provolone cheese. It was good.

Larry showed up sometime in the afternoon and tilled Lyle’s garden, power washed the back porch, then planted bunch of vegetables in the newly tilled garden. It looks great. Lyle’s proud.

Sarah arrived in the afternoon, too, to check on Ruth and visit. At one point we three trekked off to Target to get a prescription for Ruth, and a travel shave cream thing for me. I also got a pair of shorts, all by myself. And they fit. They’re black and match my black long sleeved peace sign shirt nicely. That’s what I’m wearing for the trip tomorrow.

After a nice Chinese dinner, which was ordered from the house, and picked up by Valerie, we visited for a while, fielded frantic calls from Saratoga Springs regarding the wedding, one of which was actually for me. Cheryl already told me that she wants me to wear Lyle’s boutonniere, and ride in the limo with the wedding party, and tonight she asked me to walk her down the isle. What an honor. The only stipulation was that I had “to lose the cowboy hat.” Again, I’m honored. I’ll probably cry, and everything, because it will remind me of walking Jennie down the isle. She held my hand that day which was very special to me. And she knows it.

Time to quit and go to bed because we’re up early and I’ve been sleeping almost 8 hours a night. That’s unusual for me, but, then, there are no animals here to sound the alarm when bladders bulge.

Sweet dreams to all, and thanks to those of you who make nice comments. They are appreciated a great deal.

The Funeral

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Today was an extremely long one. It’s now 9:34pm, and it started at 6am. I know, to most of you that’s really not a big deal. Perhaps not on a normal day, for a normal person. But, today wasn’t, and I’m not, so I’m told.

It was important for me to get up before 7am in order to be alert before Sarah got here to make pancakes for Ruth and me. Of course I told her it wasn’t necessary, but I really didn’t try very hard to dissuade her. Sarah, as some of you may know, is Larry’s daughter, therefore Ruth and Lyle’s granddaughter. She’s an emergency room nurse at the Hartford hospital where Lyle finally saw the light.

Sarah showed up right on time and went about making the pancakes as promised. She did, however, make me cook my own eggs, which was just fine with me. Actually, she would have cooked those, too, but I thought getting pancakes was great, and going for eggs, too, was pushing the limit a little.

After I started the eggs, Ruth decided she’d like some, too, but she wanted hers scrambled. So, I scrambled the eggs I was cooking and gave them to her. Since they were the last two in the refrigerator, upstairs, I had to trek to the basement where they keep all the replacement food. Then I cooked my eggs. As you know I usually take pictures of things I eat but this time I didn’t. I’m sorry.

It was a very good breakfast so Sarah got both Ruth and me off to a great start. And it was a good thing, too.

First up was returning to the funeral home where we once again assumed our seats while those who wished to participate in the procession to the church filed in and took a seat. Lyle was still there in the background quietly taking in all the goings on. As people arrived, they signed in. When everyone was there, the funeral crew started calling out names. As each one was called, they stopped and kneeled by Lyle, on the handy kneeling platform provided, paid their last respects to him, then exited to their vehicle which was already adorned with a little magnetic flag that was imprinted with “Funeral”. It was purple. I remember that.

Alas, the family was last to leave. Prior to departing, however, I stretched the boundaries of funeral protocol by taking a few dozen photos. I will save those for a more private viewing, because I took pictures of everything.

Finally we were released to enter our vehicle. We had Ruth’s Toyota Highlander, and we were vehicle number one. A Funeral Traffic Director lined up the vehicles in two rows at the parking lot exit and urged us to wait for the hearse to pass before we took off. We did, and the hearse, preceded by a van with a nifty blinking blue light on top, finally went around us and the procession was started. Larry was driving with Ruth up front, Valerie and me in the back.Valerie is Larry’s wife.

It doesn’t take very long to get places in Connecticut so it was a relatively short trip. The hearse, and the pace van, led us to the front of the church where we parked in the wrong lane, against the curb, on a narrow street. No one in the oncoming lanes blew their horns, or anything, so I guess they’re used to this around here.

We debarked our ride and waited in front of the church while the pall bearers helped Lyle out of the hearse and walked him up the stairs to the coffin holder on wheels. They rolled it into the church a little ways, Ruth and me right behind, then stopped until Father O’Grady came back to bless the casket. Then it was covered with a nice table cloth and pushed to the front of the church. Ruth and I had to hurry to keep up, but we made it.

The family filled the first two or three pews on the right side of the church, then the ceremony began. I had an aisle seat, right behind Ruth, next to Sarah, and two other granddaughters, Laura, Heather.

First, Susan, one of Lyle’s and Ruth’s granddaughters, sang. Did I tell you that she sings like an angel? Well, she does. I would have taped it but wasn’t allowed to bring my camera into the church. That’s not true. I just gave it a little thought and decided it wouldn’t be appropriate, so left it in the car under my hat. Susan sang many songs during the service and it was absolutely beautiful.

All the way to the church I went over and over what I intended to say, trying to commit it to memory, and thought I had a pretty good handle on it. I was prepared. I was ready. Then, too soon, Father O’Grady said my name and I totally forgot all of it. On the way to the pulpit I regained a little of my memory, and was given a little more time to think when Susan came over from her place, to give me a huge hug. Then I began … here’s what I was going to say …


Lyle was 19 when I was born, and well on his way in life. Consequently, my childhood memories of him are sparse. I learned about Lyle through pictures, stories, and infrequent visits to Oregon throughout the years. One childhood picture continues to capture my attention – it’s of Lyle in his cracker jack Navy uniform, holding me as a newborn in 1944.

We were always aware of what was going on with Lyle through letters and cards. That method of communications, however, doesn’t convey the true depth of ones impact on the community and the family surrounding him.

After I joined the Navy I found myself more often in a position to either visit him in California, or at his home here. And, I got to know more about him, learning to love him as a brother instead of a random visitor.

He was unselfishly devoted to his family with Ruth which is obvious to all who knew him. In return, they were devoted to him. Respected him. Adored him. He was living a dream with Ruth, Larry, Cheryl, Carol, and Todd.

He was a pillar in the community and we are all proud of his accomplishments. We loved him even though he never tired of telling us Oregonians what a “real” hoagie, or a “real” pizza was.

When Lyle turned 70 years old we started a tradition of traveling to each brother as they, in turn, turned 70. Lyle and Ruth traveled west for Jim in 2006, and again for Jack in 2008. Sadly, my 70th celebration will be one brother short. I understand, and know that he will be there in spirit as an honored guest.

A few days ago I found myself alone, and I sat in the quiet house, in Lyle’s place at the table. Letting my mind wander a bit, which isn’t surprising to most who know me, I could easily envision Lyle puttering around in the kitchen, or calling to me from another room, to relate something of importance. It was comforting, and I knew he was with me.

He’s with me now, as he always will be. I’ll miss not being able to hug him, shake his hand, or simply just watch him sleep on the couch.

But, I have my memories of those events and can make them very real simply by closing my eyes. I can only hope that I leave half as many happy and loving people as Lyle did in the swirling wake of his life

As for the events of the last five weeks, In Lyle’s and Ruth’s words, “this too shall pass.”

I don’t really recall what I actually said, but many parts of the above were included. I did remember to speak slow, as Jack suggested at our last funeral, and it seemed to work well after I got the mike pointed in the proper direction. When I was done, I introduced Larry who had written many things about why he loved Lyle. It was very moving, and I’m happy he went 2nd because I could never have equalled him.

Then Susan sang another song and it was amazing not only because of her voice, but because the bulk of her family were sitting in the pews crying while she stood strong throughout. She held herself together to the end and we were all proud of her strength.

Lyle was then wheeled from the church for the final time, followed by Ruth and me, and the rest of the family. I haven’t yet mentioned that I felt overly honored to have been given the honor of leading everyone with Ruth but, then, it may have just been an age thing. Still, I was humbled.

After sliding Lyle into the hearse, the pall bearers melted into the crowd and we entered our vehicle for the trip to the cemetery. Again, it wasn’t a long trip, just a couple of miles maybe.

When we got there, the pilot van drove all the way past the cemetery to the last entrance which caused Larry and Ruth to question the logic since Lyle’s plot was straight down from the first entry road. This led to a brief discussion that concluded with the belief it was done in order to allow the fifty or so vehicles behind us to line up within the confines of the cemetery roads, and not be strung out down the street. When the hearse stopped well short of the anticipated location, things got interesting. Larry rolled down his window when Michael, the funeral guy, approached our vehicle and reported that Lyle’s vault had been delivered, and placed into the wrong plot. But, the chairs were all lined up, everyone was exiting their vehicles so it was agreed that Father O’Grady would just do the final portion of the service right there, at someone else’s grave site. There was no hurry, because we understood the new occupant wasn’t scheduled to arrive until Saturday.

Lyle was removed from the hearse and carted down to the wrong grave and the service proceeded. I didn’t sit, though I could have. Instead, I wandered around the crowd taking pictures. It was great, and we all agreed that this was just Lyle’s way of having the last laugh. Father O’Grady, however, felt it was just Lyle’s way of getting a plot without having to pay for it.

We left and drove to the La Notta restaurant in East Windsor where Lyle and Ruth took Diane and me for dinner the evening we drove our marathon around the NE states in 2010. Again, I took lots of pictures of everyone eating really good food. The younger kids had a great time running around on the dance floor, dodging people who were getting food from the buffet line which was parked in the middle of it.

Then, it was done. It was finally over, and everyone started leaving. One of Ruth’s brothers, Alan I believe, had been talking to me for a while, then said you need to come out and see my ride. I did and discovered he was driving a 1982 Porsche Targa. Nifty little rig. We chatted a little longer, then he stretched its legs leaving the parking lot to show me what it’s like to be 18 again.

We went back to the house for a while, then Susan, Jay, Sarah, and Laura left, leaving us with Martin and Carol. We visited for a while, then they, too, departed. By this time it was almost time for supper, so we decided to taste test some of the dishes that had been delivered over the past week.

A couple of them got tossed, then we discovered a meat pie that looked possible, so I stuck it in the oven. About then, Ruth’s neighbor came a knocking, and visited for a really long time. I sat there and listened to them laugh and reminisce about growing up in the Windsor area. It was like having someone read a book to me. About half way through the visit I turned the oven off, figuring the meat pie was about as hot as it needed to be. And, I was correct.

After the neighbor departed, Larry and Valerie showed up and we all took a stab at the meat pie. It was interesting, but not something anyone would want to eat a lot of. About the food … though I know it’s not true, I speculated that those who delivered it used recipes they’ve had for a long time but were afraid to try, or they have these recipes they save exclusively for making dishes which they deliver to folks in mourning. I believe it could be a way to speed up the healing process because it makes one want to opt for better fare. Having said that, I must admit that all of the desserts delivered were exceptionally tasty. I know that for a fact.

After we all had a couple bites of meat pie, we looked at each other, dropped our forks, and headed out the door for Chili’s. It was a very good end to the day.

Oh, ya, we went back to the cemetery, too, to make sure Lyle was in his proper place. He was and I can prove it because I took pictures.

Now, to put a few things in perspective for you. Following is a picture of Sarah, Laura, Ruth, Alicia, Heather, and Susan. That’s the order they’re standing in. On Saturday we’re going to Saratoga Springs, NY to attend Heather’s and Justin’s wedding. We’ll be staying over Saturday night, returning Sunday. As luck would have it, Ruth and I are sharing a room so I’m pretty excited about all the rumors we can start with this trip.

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The Wake

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I’ve never been to a wake before so today was a real eye opener for me. Sure, I’ve viewed deceased family members, and others, but I’ve never experienced an event like this. Ruth told me she insisted on the wake because it’s a good way to get closure. I have to admit that I was extremely skeptical with Lyle laying right there where he could hear every word. I half expected him to raise up and ask everyone to keep the noise down because he was trying to sleep. But he didn’t. He didn’t even flinch.

The wake was scheduled for four hours. For those of you who may never have experienced a wake, it’s a period of time used to punish close family members by making them stand in a line, for the entire period, while pretty much everyone in the entire town files by to pay their respects. Really, the entire town. There were at least half a bazillion of them. Honest. I didn’t know there were than many people in Windsor Locks. Michael, the funeral director said it was “a good turn out,” which reminded me that folks from Suffield were there, and a state representative showed, up, too. That explained it.

Since I was part of the family, Ruth put me at the head of the receiving line so she could introduce me to everyone. At first I didn’t think that was right, but I was, after all, there for her. So, I quit my belly aching and stood my watch. I shook hands with everyone, hugged those I remembered from our 2010 trip, and grew accustomed to everyone extolling the saintly status of my brother. Normally when I hear the same words repeated over, and over, I grow deaf to them, but that didn’t happen this afternoon. I always knew Lyle was a stand-up guy, someone to admire, and a good person to call friend. Listening to everyone repeat this to me over that four hour period made me realize that there were many sides of Lyle I didn’t know at all. That’s understandable, because these people were pretty much a daily part of his life while I, and Jim and Jack, though more closely bound by blood, we missed a lot because we didn’t have that personal connection.

Toward the end of the scheduled 4-hour period I realized that it was OK Lyle was laying there in his casket while everyone shared stories, passed their condolences, and reiterated what a great guy Lyle was. I became so comfortable with his silent presence that I almost waved at him a couple of times. But I didn’t. By that time I knew he wouldn’t wave back, and I understood the healing benefits of a wake. We were becoming desensitized to his presence, making it easier for all of us to take that next step forward. To let the din of daily life creep back into our sensory range knowing that all is well. All is as it should be. Now we all, even Lyle, can move on to the next phase of existence.

In summary, I was devastated when we first got there, not prepared for the emotional response that erupted when I first saw him laying there. It was like a time warp in my head because the last image I had of him was standing beside Ruth in the open door of their garage, waving goodbye when Diane and I headed home from our visit in 2010. Then, BOOM, there he was, prone and silent. Prone was familiar, silent not so much. By the end of the evening a billowing sense of calm pervaded the room, and everything seemed to be OK.

After that we all went back to Ruth’s, ate pizza, and continued with the stories until it was time for sleep. Tomorrow is the funeral and I’ve been blessed as one of the eulogy guys. That seems to be a developing theme for funerals and me lately.

A Redneck In Connecticut

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So, here I am in Connecticut. When I left Portland this morning, it felt pretty good to have on my long sleeved shirt and jacket, and it was OK on the flight to Atlanta. Once there, however, things took a turn for the worse as the weather decided to get really hot. It was about 90 degrees there. When I boarded the plane for Hartford, most of the sweat had dried so it was just a thin crust all over my body. I was still a little wet so let the blower blow on my head and down the back of my shirt until I was dry all over.

Then we got to Hartford. It was only 88, here. We arrived at 5:30, right on time. I was able to connect wirelessly while aloft (for $12) so I frantically searched for someone in Connecticut to extract me from the airport on arrival. Niece Susan responded saying she would do it. Then she went to a wake for a family friend and didn’t get there until about 6:30. She was, of course, extremely apologetic, which was entirely unnecessary because she was doing me a favor. I was grateful. I knew she was going to be late so I wandered around inside the airport for a short time, then went outside. It was 88 degrees. I immediately started sweating again, liquifying the crusty substance I obtained in Atlanta, and it started running down my back, into my pants. It was an unsettling feeling. People behind me were starting to talk. This gave me motivation to continue on out the door, into the sweltering heat. After about 45 minutes I stopped sweating, and was actually starting to become fairly comfortable, then Susan showed up and ruined it all with her air conditioned car.

It was comfortable in Susan’s car. I stopped sweating, and we had a nice visit on the way back to Lyle & Ruth’s house. Just before we got there she said, “Oh ya. Grandma’s A/C quit working today but we put a fan in your room”, which caused trickles down my neck in spite of the A/C. But, that’s OK. I’m not here on vacation. I actually have a purpose. Really, I do. And, as soon as we walked in the door the significance of that purpose was made even clearer when we learned that Ruth had been taken to the emergency room by Martin & Sarah. Martin is Carol’s husband, and Sarah is the granddaughter emergency room RN. I may not explain all the names to you who don’t know these folks, so if you’re curious, just ask and I’ll answer. Honest.

Upon my arrival, those in the house were: Cheryl, Allen, Carol, Heather, Laura, Larry, Valerie and three great grand children (one is Susan’s, the other two are Laura’s). I think that’s all. We all sat around the kitchen eating area and ate whatever the ladies put on it. It went well. It was the first meal I had today and it was really good. I ate a lot of vegetables, too.

Every once in a while Sarah would call from the hospital to give an update on Ruth so we were able to follow her progress through the emergency room process vicariously. They thought for sure she has a UTI, but they were waiting on labs from the results of the phlebotomist’s efforts, and they were scheduling a CT scan. It didn’t sound good because of all the stress and trauma she, and everyone else, has endured over the past few months, and especially the last few days.

Finally the CT scan was done and it was determined that Ruth has diverticulitis. She’s coming home with a box of meds, and strict instructions to be good and rest. That’s going to take some serious discussion because Ruth will not rest until all the details are in place.

Having heard the news, and learning the diagnosis, everyone went home to well deserved rest. So, I am alone in the house, waiting for their return. At this moment it’s 11:11pm. I’m sitting in Lyle’s place at the table, where I’ve been all evening, and now that the voices are gone, I can hear Lyle’s voice above the din of the quiet, calling my name in order to tell me something, or laugh about something someone said. He’s at the kitchen sink rinsing dishes, and getting things ready for tomorrow.If I were to go into the basement I know I’d see him sitting at his computer playing solitaire, or saying, “Jerrie, come’ere. I want to show you something.” So, I go, and we share memories, and anecdotes until that memory fades, and I’m called to another place in the house where he lives in my mind.

He’s nowhere, yet he’s everywhere I look. Sitting here in his place, I see him at our house when he and Ruth visited. He’s playing cribbage with Dad on 3rd Street, posing for pictures on that old couch with us, his brothers, giving Mom a huge hug just for fun, and on Johnson Ridge looking at Mt. St. Helens … All of these memories are proof, to me, that we are all immortal. As long as we have memories of our loved ones, they will continue to live forever. Pass it on …