THE DOG

Of course, it was my idea.  Aren’t all those brainchildren mine??  She’s a beauty and so smart.  O.K. that’s the problem – too smart.  Skipper (Yes, that’s her name.) can be sooooo sneaky.  I mean, maybe just stubborn; but I had children that were stubborn and eventually it served them well.  I guess that means I shouldn’t give up hope yet.  She brings the paper in, but doesn’t always want to give it up.  She comes, sits,  and stays, but runs off when she gets the opportunity.  She follows me everywhere, but acts like a blithering idiot around other people.  I mean flippin out crazy.  We call her the Beast when anyone comes around.  Her manners are so bad around other people that she is not even allowed to be around anyone else.  I have learned to make her jump on the couch if anyone comes, so I can quickly snap the leash on her and tie her to the refrigerator door!  So far she hasn‘t pulled the fridge out the door!

Today was so bad I threatened her with the pound.  I don’t think she believed me.  Ah I love my dog.

I don’t want to share the details

It’s my last post about The Man.  He is deteriorating, and I am loosing strength.  Everyone keeps saying why don’t you call me, let others help, but really what can they do?  Can they take care of his toileting needs?  Can they fix the foods that he likes?  Can they help him dress, change his soiled sheets, help him shave?  Can they talk to him to remind him of intimate moments to try to bring his mind back to the present?  Can they remind him of his role as a father, husband, lover, provider?  Can they infuse me with strength and rest?  It’s all mine at this point.  I intend to see it through.  I have never shirked a task, and this is one rough task.  Pray for his peace.

Looks like a stork thru up here

Two in the kitchen

This was one of the better lines of the day.  What a wonderful day.  Pure chaos.  The Man oblivious to most of it, or so I thought, until he whispered to me, “Do I have a nerve pill I can take.”  One of those, “The Best of Times.”  We had a blast.  We had a great cook, good food, great company, and a lot of laughter.

When the kids were running in and out and all over everywhere and I said, “What happened here?  I swear I only had three kids.” That was when the number one son came out with the line that it looks like a stork thru up here.

A list of highlights of the day:

The anticipation of the arrival of the kids and their families for the first time in six years.

Two brothers hug.

A three-year old telling us that she has new friends!

The arrival and emotional reunion of a grandmother and great-grandmother.

The magic show. (you’d have to be there)

The make-over. (bless you Bay)

The four-wheeler tow truck.

The basketball.

The 1976 truck ride.

The desserts.

The hugs.

The songs accompanied by Jake one guitar.

My brother the electrician and plumber.

Make believe hospital.

I’m sure there are many more memories that will come to my mind as days go on, but these alone will make for conversation for many months to come.

Beauties

Papa’s hands can fix anything – even tired grandbabies

Death upon us

My mind is just wandering all over the place along with Rods.  We live so close together in this world that I cannot separate myself from him even as he closes this part of his existence.  I feel what he feels.  I know what he will say or think before he does.  The same words come out of our mouths at the same time. I am being swept up in his final chapter and living it with him.

A rainy day

In my last post, I removed all ways to share the post on my Facebook and other things.  I wonder why I did that?  I did not want family to know how I was anticipating the end of a relationship, especially our children.  They tend to fuss and bother when they realize something is wrong, and that is the last thing that the Mr. wants.  He doesn’t want anyone to think that he can’t do things he previously could.  For all you young women out there; if you think testosterone is difficult to deal with when men are young, wait until you deal with it when they are old.  I thought men lost testosterone as they aged, but I guess their brain remembers and continues reacting in the ways it did when there was plenty of it.  Anyway, I didn’t want to alarm the kids I guess.  But, then I realized that is stupid because they can all access the blog.  Duh!  I guess the decision is do I want a diary or a blog.  A blog it is.

Today, the Mr. and I spent a cold and rainy day indoors of course.  I cooked a pot of beans and a blueberry cobbler.  The Mr. loves that kind of food and makes you feel like you are really a good cook.  He appreciates food.  I guess that depression era stuff coming out.  He watched two John Wayne movies, and now is enthralled in the Rifleman even though he could probably do the dialogue.  I am watching college basketball in the other room.

I have 30 tomato plants in cups in the house under lights.  Now really, what am I going to do with 30 tomato plants?  I’m not a hot sauce factory.  I just like to start the plants;  I don’t care much about them after they go into the garden.  I watered the plants and fed the grandkids’ pony.  The pony feeding is one of the Mr.’s chores, but I still have him on restriction since he got down in the yard a few days ago.

He got down, said his legs just gave out, and had to scoot on his back to the back door and holler for me.  I finally got him into the house flat on his back on the floor and gave him a heating pad and muscle relaxer.  He absolutely refused an ambulance and insisted he would be fine after he “rested” a little while.  He finally got up into a chair after much help from me and pronounced, “I’m hungry.”  He proceeded to go to the kitchen and eat lunch, but ever since that day I’ve had him “grounded.”  He is supposed to be using a walker, but I see him cheating. (Leaving the walker and coming back to it later when I come check)  He is definitely better, so I will have to give up the restrictions next week.  I did let him wash the dishes.  I figured if he needs to get his strength back slowly what better way!!

Although I bitch about it (just because I am afraid of loosing him – and I don’t mean as in lost) I am really glad that he is determined to continue to live.  He always tells me the famous lines from Lonesome Dove that Robert Duvall says, “Hell, it’s not dying I’m thinking about, it’s living.”  We should all take a hint.  Live it everyday.  It doesn’t last forever.