Category: family

What’s That?

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Spooky GlovesOn one morning that seems so long ago, I took the Girl outside for her morning ritual before we began our day. We were living in Sparks at the time with our beloved friend Jimmy and had settled into a daily routine.

On this particular morning, the Girl was making her sniffy-rounds to determine if any interlopers had trespassed the night before. For some reason, something on the fence caught her eye. I watched her as her “hackle” (she doesn’t have enough outer coat to really have “hackles”) rose, her tail rose, and her posture stiffened. There is a tiny ball of fur that fluffs near the base of her tail (Older Son says she “has a mouse in her tail!”) and that expanded to its maximum dimension.

“Woof!” she said, followed by “grrrr…”. She was alerting me to the fact that there was something unusual on top of the fence.

So, of course, I had to make a capture of both the “problem” and the story. I laughed and laughed that morning. I love my funny Girl.

Then, morning business done, we headed back indoors to collect a few things and go for a long walk. It was a good day.

Pennsylvania and Football

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Football Players“Football season is our busiest time of the year,” Daughter said. She was being honest. It’s been a very busy week. But, I’m ahead of myself.

I finally buckled down and drove out the remaining miles to Daughter’s home. I spent a lot of time on the turnpikes (which I deplore) and another night in a motel. I did pause to pick up geocaches in states where I had not found any so as to collect the “souvenirs” for those states. The pauses gave me an opportunity to see some of the country that I had not seen. But the focus was on “getting there.”

Daughter has a wonderful house. They are in the process of filling it in as time and money allow. The grandsons are wonderful, as I expected. I’m deeply enjoying spending time with them. I’ve watched more TV than I have in years, but it’s fun to simply be with my family.

Daughter is amazing. A deep calm strength emanates from her. There is confidence there and well as competence. The boys are attentive and respectful. I expected that, given their Father. It is good to not have to be the one in charge for a change. I am not the leader here, just a beloved family member. It is good.

I’ve been going to football practice with Daughter and Younger Grandson (YG). Daughter and I sit on the sidelines and observe while YG works. He’s got a great attitude and is not afraid to mix it up a bit. He’s learned a lot, I can tell. I shot a bit of video of his workouts and will share that material with Daughter. She can do whatever she wants with it.

Saturday was the YG’s first scrimmage this year. OG, Daughter, and I sat on the sidelines (along with the Girl in her training vest). It was hot and humid, but not awful. I think I finally got some Sun on my right leg, which is usually shaded by the 4Runner when I’m driving. I have a farmer-tan on my left side and it’s time to balance it out a bit.

The scrimmage was round-robin style. With the exception of one team, it was fun to watch. The lead coach of one team was a total butt. He was screaming at his kids and had a generally bad attitude. I’m thinking he’s a candidate for the antagonist of one of the Karate Kid movies. These are ten-year old boys, for goodness’ sake, not professional players. There’s a lot of learning for them to do and it can be done in a far better way.

Enough of that…

Friday we drove up to Gettysburg to visit the national park. I put the Girl in her training vest and she was perfect! She went right to work, stayed close to me, was very attentive, and did exactly what she was supposed to do. We visited “The Cyclorama,” which is a huge oil painting of Pickett’s Charge and is accompanied by a soundtrack. There were several cannonades, which the attendant warned me about. Although the Girl didn’t like the loud noises, she only trembled a bit and realized this was not thunder.

They made us take the elevator to avoid the escalator. I didn’t remember, but the Girl knows escalators and has no problem with them. I have video of my lead trainer working her on the escalators at the airport last Christmas and the Girl did great. But, she knows elevators too and was fine with it, even as herky-jerky as it was. They put us in the handicapped seats so the Girl could place next to me. I put her in a down-stay and she was fine. The cannon blasts and rifle reports disturbed her a bit, but not badly.

We drove part of the CD-guided automobile tour. The entire place has a sense of the holy about it. I want to go back and spend more time there. They have a number of short hikes to various places that would be good to see. It is also possible to hire a guide to go along to tell the story. I want to spend time there with my cameras, but that will mean getting up early to get the good light.

Pennsylvania reminds me a lot of Missouri. There’s lots of vegetation, the air is warm and humid, and wildlife is abundant. I stepped out the back door with the Girl Sunday morning for her morning outing and watched a wild turkey at the treeline between lots. That was a sight I haven’t seen in a long time.

I’m very happy I decided to come here. It’s good to be with family, I haven’t seen Daughter and her family in two years (since Wife died), and it is good to see new lands.

Healing

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Ki Sleeping Peacefully, HealingFriday afternoon, the Girl and I were out in east Carson City near the Carson River looking for some geocaches. We found the one we were looking for near the Mexican Ditch, I signed the log, and then called her back to me to return to the CacheMobile. When she crossed the fence, she snagged the low wire that was on the ground and lacerated her lower right leg. I checked it and there were a couple small gashes, but not a lot of bleeding.

I checked them a couple more times over the weekend, then decided Sunday morning to call her vet. The wounds weren’t closing and I knew they’d take forever to heal without a suture or two. So, they worked us in.

When we arrived, the tech reviewed Ki’s records and suggested we go ahead and do her annual review. I mentioned her two skin cancers and that the vet indicated we should probably just do it all in one swoop so she would only be subjected to anesthesia once. After the office visit, the on-duty vet agreed and so I left her there.

I knew I’d be lost without her, but I had no idea just how anxious I would become. I did everything I could think of to distract myself, short of buying a bottle of whiskey and numbing. I wasn’t really productive Sunday afternoon, but I got part of the irrigation system working and started the process of taking care of my yard for the summer.

The vet called me about 2030. She was in recovery, doing fine, and I could either leave her overnight (without additional charge) or retrieve her. “I’ll be there at 2100,” I said.

I took her discharge instructions, got all the medications assembled, and then carried the poor baby out to the 4Runner. She was so groggy, unhappy, and felt poorly. I could tell all these things. I put her on her mat in the back seat after an abortive attempt to settle her in the front seat pan where she usually rides. The ride home was challenging, but I put on the overhead light and tilted the mirror so I could see her. We made it fine.

She didn’t want her bed on the floor; she wanted it on the sofa, where she usually has it. (I shut the bedroom door; she didn’t need to be jumping on and off the bed. Yes, my dog sleeps with me.) It’s an easy step up to the sofa for her, so I thought that would be fine. I also got my pillows and a blanket and prepared to sleep on the sofa with her.

She really wanted me close. She wanted the comfort and reinforcement that we derive from each other. I tell people all the time that we are both rescues. It’s true.

I really felt badly for her last night. She was so uncomfortable. I wondered whether I did the right thing by bringing her home instead of leaving her in the vet’s care. I guess I won’t ever know.

She groaned and whined most of the night. I felt her stirring in her sleep and could sense her discomfort. I slept off and on. It wasn’t my first time sleeping off and on with someone I love.

But, she woke more like herself this morning. She was stiff and sore, I could tell. But she was ready for breakfast and I opened a can of wet food, gave her some of it with her kibbles, and gave her the medications that will speed her healing.

We took a short walk at noon and she seemed better. I know that some modest exercise will be good for her. She slept off and on most of the afternoon. I spent much of my day on her, just sitting with her or being close. We are like that anyway.

We walked a mile this evening and she did well. I needed the walk and I think that the movement will help keep her skin stretched and supple. The vet took a lot of skin from her skin cancers.

So she’s healing. Her physical wounds will be healed in a couple of weeks. In the process of reflecting on her treatment and healing, I thought on my own. I realized that I’m still healing from Wife’s loss. I’m healing from the departure of a dear friend and my dog’s trainer. I don’t think I’ve begun healing from my change of employment status from employee to self-employed, yet, but it’s impending.

Healing is good. It takes time. It takes work and an investment of positive energy. I also think the being mindful of the need and the process is important. I am still learning, after all.

Valentine’s Day 2014

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Lost LoveWife and I always celebrated St. Valentine’s Day, although it never was a huge thing for us. I think we saw it as another opportunity to celebrate being together and to do something a little special for the kids.

I dropped the ball this year and let the day creep up on me. I know my kids are all old enough that they no longer need a heavy dose of sugar from their dad. But I still remember the day and the celebration of close relationships that it represents.

Happy Valentine’s Day, all.

Support Group

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locksI went to the bereavement support group for the second time today. There were about eight women and two men. That told me something right away (well, a couple of things actually). They asked me to introduce myself, so I did. Same for the other male.

The coordinator had a couple of printed packets she wanted to work through. So, she started and then gave each person there an opportunity to say something regarding each topic. She asked people if they’d done their homework.

Some of the widows there are quite close to their loss. Many of them lost their loved one a couple of months ago. A few of us are farther out. I think all of us are trying to accommodate our new status.

We shut down after about an hour and a half. The women gathered about to visit. It is the way of women to deal with their grief by sharing it in this fashion. Most men prefer to deal with grief in private (where it’s safe) and by doing things. That’s one of the big things I learned in my reading.

I’m also a lot farther down the road than most of the folks there. I don’t mean that to be bragging — because I don’t have it all together. But I did the work to address my loss and am still doing the work.

As I left, I thought “This really isn’t for me. Maybe it would have been six or nine months ago, but not any more.” I still have work to do and I have a good idea where that work is. But I don’t think I need the group to do that work. I just need to keep my eyes forward, deal with my grief when it rises, and continue working out my plans. I think it’s going to be more about deciding what I want and then executing that from here on forward. I can do that.

Edit: Since finishing this piece, I got started thinking again. I left the meeting this afternoon feeling pretty good — as in buoyed. I wondered about that in the context of what I learned by going through this second meeting. I finally figured out that what made me feel good was making a life-decision. I decided not to attend more meetings. They aren’t the right thing for me to do.

Then I figured out that when I make a life-decision that is both logical and feels right, I feel better. I get a boost from making a decision… taking an opportunity that I perceive to be moving forward. This is a good thing and I’m glad for the little boost.

My Girl

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Yes?I think my Girl and I like walkies the best. Well, maybe… We both like our walkies — she lives to run on the trail of “wabbits” and I love the sun, the air, the walking, and watching her.

When the light is good, I make images. I seem to carry the D300 more often than not now. I like the Tamron 80-210/3.8 zoom in my collection. It’s adequately sharp for images that aren’t too critical. It’s a great range of focal lengths. It focuses reasonably close so that macro-like shots are possible. It’s fast enough that the optical viewfinder is bright enough for daylight work. It’s fast enough to get some separation between subject and background as well. So, the Tamron is often on my D300.

The afternoon capture I made of the Girl was a Tamron-based walkies. She ranged out and back, like she does. Part of the time we play a game called “Come find me!” If I can’t see her, or suspect she can’t see me, I’ll call out “Come find me! Ki, come find me!” and then watch and listen for her.

I usually see her before she sees me. Her “flag” is her tell. If she doesn’t see me, I’ll call again “Come find me!” so she has a chance to get direction with her ears. When she sees me, her ears and tail drop, and she will race in to me, laughing that doggie-laugh of hers. When she nears, she’ll either break off and turn to range out again or will blow past me a full speed, sometimes showering me with sand and gravel. It’s a great game and I think we both like it — a lot.

That afternoon I made the capture was pretty late in the day, probably 1530 or so. I knew the sun was going to drop behind the Carson Range in a few minutes. She had ranged out 20–30 yards and turned to look back at me, probably in response to my call. That’s the expression I see when she tells me “C’mon, you… you’re lagging!” I love it!

Of course, I love my Girl. She rescued me as much as I rescued her. The inter-species relationship fascinates me. Without speech, she tells me many things. Many of them are simple needs — food, water, go out, play, cuddle… However, she can communicate some things that are more complicated. “Take me with you!” is a favorite. Another favorite is “You’re taking me with you, right?” The latter really is a question. Her body language is different for the demand and the request. It’s subtle, but it’s there.

She is my terrible terrier. She is as manipulative as any human female I’ve ever been around. She knows my attachment to her is very strong and she uses it. I am sometimes shunned when I leave her (because I have to). She’ll camp out with Young Son and I get The Look. She’ll sleep on the sofa instead of with me.

Yeah, she works me emotionally very well. I know it. She knows it.

Her intelligence is different than mine. Her skills are physical and perceptive. She solves one-step problems well, but two-step problems are more challenging for her. She is devoted and protective, just like me.

She is my best friend. It doesn’t matter that she’s a different species. She’s still my best friend.

Another Thing

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This afternoon I realized another thing I miss about Wife. My work has been fairly stressful the last few weeks. The forensic project I’m working on is quite a challenge. A lot depends on my ability to figure out what happened.

Wife and I shared a term about stressful situations. We would call it “spinning up.” Both of us did it over our joint life. We learned to be a buffer for each other, providing a calming influence instead of adding fuel to the fire.

I realized, late this afternoon while walking the Girl, that I miss that. It was something Wife helped me with, when I have to deal with a difficult problem or a stressful situation. She provided a buffer to calm me, tell me it will be OK, and allow me to vent.

I don’t have that anymore. I miss it.

A Year of Firsts

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Sun, Snow, and ShadowOn the third Saturday in January 2013, one year ago, Wife died. The lymphoma finally took what remained of her, after taking all the best parts weeks before. Although the date says one year tomorrow, for me her passing will occur on the third Saturday of January.

Yesterday was the last day of my year of firsts. In many respects, I’m glad it’s over.

I haven’t been writing much, here, although I worked my journal pretty hard. Early last week, as I prepared to travel to southern Nevada for fieldwork, I contracted bronchitis. So I delayed my departure that Thursday morning and drove to the Walmart walk-in clinic to see a medical provider. I know my body. When I get bronchitis (usually a viral infection) I am susceptible to a secondary bacterial infection that will keep me sick for a month if I don’t receive treatment. I learned to seek treatment early and take a round of antibiotics. Then I avoid the secondary respiratory infection that nearly always happens.

We made the trip and accomplished the tasks set before us. It’s another story; maybe I’ll tell it yet.

The last week was spent trying to recover from my bronchitis, trying to catch up after missing part of the weekend (to do chores), and working on a project with a hard deadline. I finally figured out what happened for my project (it’s a forensic project) yesterday afternoon. This is a good thing. Now I’ll finalize my report and supporting documentation and get it done.

In my off-time, I reflected on my life with Wife and read through my journal from a year ago. From my current perspective, I know how it all turned out. I didn’t at the time I wrote my journal. However, then, even a few weeks before she died, I knew things were not going well. I could see her energy ebbing as the days passed, despite the medical team’s effort to get the lymphoma under control. It was like watching a slow-motion train wreck.

Over the last year, I wrote several times how I hate that the lymphoma took her voice and ability to interact with me. Our joint life revolved around time together and talk. I loved to interact with Wife and that’s the thing I miss the most. We spent many hours over breakfast solving all the problems of our lives and the World’s.

I wept a few times the last week as I recalled how it was all winding down a year ago. I knew this watershed approached and wondered how it might feel — whether it would be like the passing of a birthday (“Do I feel older, nope…”) or if something more substantial would occur.

Well, yesterday was the last day of my year of firsts. I wept a few times as I recalled Wife’s last day. We knew she was dying soon — the hospice nurse told us three to five days. (Wife lasted another twelve hours.) When she took her last few breaths and tried to interact with us, it was very hard. Those last moments will haunt me forever. Then she was simply gone. Well, what was left of her… a trap that kept her spirit here but locked away from her loved ones, that died and her spirit was finally released.

Wife’s death was the hard part. Then all of the busy-ness that follows a death happened and was dealt with. In many respects, that activity is something good because it provides a focal point for doers to keep busy. I’m a doer… I needed that activity.

As I reflect on my activities, I believe I did things mostly right. At the very least, I did the best I could. I gave Wife everything within my power to give. We did our best to get a cure for her lymphoma. When that failed, we gave her time, attention, and our love. We saw her through to the end. It was a mix of joy in having known her and of sadness for our loss of her wonderful presence and spirit.

Make no mistake, Wife was no saint. She had her flaws, as do we all. But there was an inherent goodness in her that I believe derived from her faith. She shared that goodness freely with almost everyone who came into contact with her. Her faith was shared in what she did, not in what she said. As a result, that circle of people around her lost something big when she died. Those of us closest to her lost the most. But everyone in her circles lost something.

I gave myself a year to heal and to figure out what will be next. That year is finished. I’m not healed, but I’m better. I’m not happy and have not yet figured out what will make me happy. So, I think I was ambitious to believe I could figure out what’s next during my year of firsts. I decided, during my end-of-year time of reflection, that I need another year to figure out what’s next. That is, provided God gives me another year.

Regardless of whether he gives me another year or not, my plan is to use 2014 as a year for rebuilding. Last year was a year to mourn and process all the material things left behind after Wife’s death. Most of that is done. Most of the financial impact of her death is dealt with. As my friend Jim suggested, “It still sucks, but it doesn’t suck quite as badly.”

My intent is to work this year, plan ahead financially (for retirement, full or partial), and see Young Son through another year of college. By the end of this year, he’ll be looking to go to university somewhere. That means he’ll be moving out of my house and out of my daily provision. He’ll be taking on responsibility for his support and relieving me of that. I will be released from the last of my family responsibilities.

I’m giving myself this year to figure out what is next for me. I might elect to continue working my current engagement. I might elect to make a career change. I’ll make a mid-course check in June to determine whether I’m moving toward a new life that will provide some happiness. But this year will be a time for me to figure out what I want and where I want it.

I think I’m OK with that. I suppose I have to be OK with that.

I miss you Old Girl. I think I’ll miss you forever. Those of us who knew you, we each have a poorer life for your loss.

Edit: I think I miswrote. Today is the last day of my year of firsts. I suppose I just want it to be done.

Lost Love

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Lost LoveExcuse me while I refill my whiskey glass… I’m going to write this and then go pack my camera gear. I head out in the morning for southern Nevada to do a site visit for one of my projects. The Girl and I will drive down there tomorrow and do a little light field work in the afternoon. We’ll probably stop for a couple of geocaches on the way, then drive into Pahrump to spend the night. Friday we’ll be in the field with the client. Then we’ll spend Friday night again in Pahrump to drive home Saturday. I plan to drive through Death Valley on the way home, do a little geocaching, and make a few images. I am looking forward to the trip.

I think one of my mistakes is not taking a weekend a month and driving somewhere. The road time is good for my head. The sights of new places is good for my eyes. The Girl is good for me. I have no idea what she gets from our relationship, but she obviously gets something from it. She seeks out my time and attention (except when she’s pissed at me for whatever doggish reason — hmmm… sounds kinda like girlish reason, doesn’t it?). She wants to go when I go and stay when I stay. I don’t exactly understand, but it doesn’t matter. The relationship works.

A few days ago we walked up to the community mailbox to retrieve the mail. While I was there, I noticed this fallen rubber band, either lost or discarded. I don’t know which. But the shape of it reminded me of the traditional heart-shape we use in our culture. The light was fairly interesting. The only camera I had with me was my Moto X. So, I made the shot with a phone-camera. The camera you have with you is the best camera.

I posted this on my social accounts. DiL commented she would have noticed the heart-shape too. She’s an artist; I’m not. But I loved the comment anyway.

I titled this “Found, Lost Love” or “Lost Love, Found.” Both work, I think. The only post-processing was addition of the vignette to draw the eye to the geometry of the rubber band.

But the reference goes much deeper. A year ago we were in the thick of it. Wife had been sent home by her medical team to die. They did what the could. The cancer did not respond to radiation treatment. There was nothing left to do. The stress on Wife to make the 82-mile journey everyday was telling. She was losing strength daily. She had lost her ability to speak and most of her mobility. It was not a good place to be.

She didn’t want to give up. I know her. I know how she thinks. Surrender was not an option. But, although she didn’t want to give up, she knew she wasn’t improving. In the end, when asked, she said “I want to go home and rest.”

I think those were the most difficult seven words I ever heard. It broke my heart to realize that this was it. All the work, the travel, the hope, and the fear peaked in those few words.

The staff came by to say goodbye. They knew. They have seen it all before. Everyone leaves their care at some time. Some go home healed, completely or partially. Some go home to die. It’s part of the gig. But they were sincere and compassionate and it was an honor to see them salute Wife’s effort to get relief from her disease. We brought her home that afternoon, all of us quiet, reflecting on what we learned and what was coming. And so the vigil began.

A lot of my emotions rose when I saw the heart-shaped rubber band the other afternoon. I instantly made the connection of a lost-love, found. My love is lost, gone from this life forever. I want no other and as my year-of-firsts approaches its end, nothing is really changed. Wife is gone and will not be returning.

I still wonder what to do with that. My expectation was that I would retire, fully or partially, and we would do the things we talked about for so many years. With her demise, that’s changed. In this new life, I am moving to a second career as a photographer and writer. But no longer will I be husband and lifemate.

What does this mean? What does any of it mean? Is there anything of significance in this?

I’m not sure I have any answers. All I know is that I carry on. I’ll work a few more years in my current engagement, so long as enough work exists to keep me employed. Then I’ll move to a new phase of my life, providing my health holds, and take on a few engineering assignments that interest me. They will pay well. I intend to spend the rest of my time traveling to see my family and to make images of interesting places and things as well as write about my experiences.

I know what I believe. I am not a religious man. But I have faith. What I believe cannot be proven. That changes nothing about how I intend to conduct myself. Regardless of whether my faith proves true or false, I intend to live what I believe. My hope is that Wife and I will have “time” to talk again. I would love that. But I cannot know because it can’t be proven.