June 9, 1926 to May 16, 2012
We were expecting it, but that doesn't make it any easier.
It amazes me the memories that flood one's mind when "the news" is broken.
We did not have a funeral for Mom, because she did not want one. Mom was creamated and my sister, Connie, got me a Silver Cross that was/is made specifically to put a dab of ashes into, and then sealed. We were hoping to go out into the Gulf on a friend's boat and scatter part of Mom's ashes, and that would probably have been the memorial. But due to the weather, that idea has been postponed.
I have a canister that I took on the plane with me that has the other half of Mom's ashes. Some are to be placed on my Dad's grave, and part scattered in the Colorado mountains.
I am fortunate that I did have 40 more years to get to know my Mother than my Dad. Having had time to get to know my Mom is very fortunate, indeed.
Even after this time, and knowing what was to come, it doesn't lessen the heart ache and sense of loss.
It does give me more of a sense of Family.
Tell your family (and friends) you Love them the next chance you get. You never know; it may be the last chance you get!
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Pita
Well, Pita is gone.
She came into my life one day as I was putting milk away in the refrigerator. I noticed that one of my bottles of tea that I had made had fallen over and some of the contents had drained out of the container. So while I was on my hands and knees cleaning out the bottom of the refrigerator, I felt something crawl across my foot.
Not being the jumpy sort, I looked down and saw a brownish-grey rat staring back at me. She skittered off to around the back of the sofa, but was easily coaxed out.
She was well fed, ignoring the food and water I offered her. She must have belonged to somebody, but nobody fessed up. What was I to do? Flush her down the toilet? Gracious, NO! So being the good steward, I went and got a cage, bottle, bedding, a ball, food, and who knows what else. I figured I'd take care of her until somebody came and got her.
The circumstances by which she entered into my life prompted me to name her "Pita", short for Pain In The Arse! It was a very appropriate name.
Being a rat, I couldn't just let her run freely around the apartment, since rats have an inclination to gnaw, chew, chomp, and raise hate-and-discontent with printer wiring. I found this out the hard way. Fortunately, I am adept at repairs...
Pita would sit on my lap while I was eating dinner and eat with me. I could always tell when she was full, because she would stop eating (unlike me!), snuggle down, and go to sleep. Like children, cats and puppies, she was cute when she was asleep!
As time progressed she slowed down, just sitting in her ball when I put her in there. More apt to sleep than to come out to play. Finally, age and rat maladies took their toll.
I keep trying to tell myself that it was only a rat. But she was a very cute rat. I am going to miss her.
She came into my life one day as I was putting milk away in the refrigerator. I noticed that one of my bottles of tea that I had made had fallen over and some of the contents had drained out of the container. So while I was on my hands and knees cleaning out the bottom of the refrigerator, I felt something crawl across my foot.
Not being the jumpy sort, I looked down and saw a brownish-grey rat staring back at me. She skittered off to around the back of the sofa, but was easily coaxed out.
She was well fed, ignoring the food and water I offered her. She must have belonged to somebody, but nobody fessed up. What was I to do? Flush her down the toilet? Gracious, NO! So being the good steward, I went and got a cage, bottle, bedding, a ball, food, and who knows what else. I figured I'd take care of her until somebody came and got her.
The circumstances by which she entered into my life prompted me to name her "Pita", short for Pain In The Arse! It was a very appropriate name.
Being a rat, I couldn't just let her run freely around the apartment, since rats have an inclination to gnaw, chew, chomp, and raise hate-and-discontent with printer wiring. I found this out the hard way. Fortunately, I am adept at repairs...
Pita would sit on my lap while I was eating dinner and eat with me. I could always tell when she was full, because she would stop eating (unlike me!), snuggle down, and go to sleep. Like children, cats and puppies, she was cute when she was asleep!
As time progressed she slowed down, just sitting in her ball when I put her in there. More apt to sleep than to come out to play. Finally, age and rat maladies took their toll.
I keep trying to tell myself that it was only a rat. But she was a very cute rat. I am going to miss her.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Death
Published Greeley Tribune September 7, 2001
Death. The first time I encountered the phenomenon was with my Father. We were living in Northglenn at the time, and I was only 14 years old. He had come home the day before from a sales trip, and had taken on repainting the trim around the house.
I was ‘helping’ him when the weather turned nasty, and I started taking stuff back into the house. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes when my sister screamed. I ran outside to find my Father on the ground, collapsed next to his car. He was gone, the victim of a heart attack.
Death became personal in 1982, when my world was turned upside-down with the diagnosis of a broken neck and consequent surgery. Wearing a halo brace, I was feeling really low one day, and I sat myself down at the dining room table with a loaded pistol and a note pad in front of me. I wanted to write down how I felt, about not being able to get around like I used to, not being able to work, my wife being pregnant with our first child, etc. Because of everything, I felt like less of a man. I started writing, and soon found myself writing a poem about Death. Incidentally, it took me 20 years to realize, as of last November, that The Lord was with me that day, but that’s another story, if not a book.
I have talked to many people who have considered suicide. One common denominator amongst them is they regularly think about it. Why? Because ‘It’ is the only constant in their lives. Look around your life and see the way things change, every day, even by the minute. It can be overwhelming.
From my perspective, a person who contemplates suicide has done so over a period of time, so there are indications of the impending event. It’s not like a person wakes up one morning with the Klingon philosophy on their mind: “Today is a good day to die”. 20/20 hindsight is Man’s greatest attribute, and those that are left in the wake of a suicide say things like “I didn’t think he’d do it”, or “I should have seen it coming”.
But people die every day from occurrences that are not of their doing. Because of the unexpected suddenness, people should be prepared. Sounds rather contradictory, but it makes sense.
First, and I’m sure you’ve all heard it before, you should have a will and life insurance. I want to take this a step further. If you can afford it, have a small life insurance policy entrusted to a friend, or somebody who can front the monies. That way, in the event of your death, people who cannot otherwise afford to travel to your funeral can do so with the proceeds from the policy. Disclaimer: Always check with your financial and legal consultants before doing anything.
In a letter to Dear Abby the writer was bemoaning the fact that an old friend had died. Because she hadn’t heard from her friend in a while, she set out to find out if there was a problem, and consequently was informed by the family about the death. Similarly, I had a Great Aunt that had died, and one day when I inquired about her health, was told she had died six months before! Obviously non-notification is a common problem.
So, make a list of the people you want informed upon your demise. This can be incorporated into the will, left with a friend or the executor of the estate. See disclaimer.
Finally, have the last word. Literally. Make up tapes or CD’s for the people you LOVE, telling them about the way you feel towards them. Tell your kids how proud you are, your spouse about the wonderful life you had, etc. Use your imagination and be nice; This may be your lasting legacy.
And remember, someday it may be too late to tell them you LOVE them, so do it today.
I Love my kids:
Tanya, Robbie and Trinity;
Michael, Krystal and Colton; and last but not least
Terence, our Army brat!
Love you too, Kiddo!
THE POEM
August 1, 1997 DEATH
Originally written July 27, 1982 (That Day!)
DEATH, that cunning artist of despair. It stalks its prey anytime, day or night, seeking young or old, healthy or sick, or those caught unaware. It hovers over you when you are eating, sleeping, or just sitting. It can act directly or use one of its allies, Man. It can act swiftly and mercifully, or slow and agonizingly.
We have all seen DEATH. It is apparent everywhere we look:
A loose board on the stairs;
Teenager with his parents car on Friday night;
An armed robber at a bank;
A person eating dinner after too much to drink;
A hot bubble bath.
It even strikes on joyous occasions:
A birth;
A wedding;
A party.
But it is most subtle when it creeps up through a person's emotions:
Despair;
Lonliness;
Fear;
Hate.
Mostly, DEATH attacks people through others, but its greatest joy is when it makes a person turn on himself.
Suicide is DEATH's ultimate ecstasy!
And DEATH is ecstatic right now.
Death. The first time I encountered the phenomenon was with my Father. We were living in Northglenn at the time, and I was only 14 years old. He had come home the day before from a sales trip, and had taken on repainting the trim around the house.
I was ‘helping’ him when the weather turned nasty, and I started taking stuff back into the house. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes when my sister screamed. I ran outside to find my Father on the ground, collapsed next to his car. He was gone, the victim of a heart attack.
Death became personal in 1982, when my world was turned upside-down with the diagnosis of a broken neck and consequent surgery. Wearing a halo brace, I was feeling really low one day, and I sat myself down at the dining room table with a loaded pistol and a note pad in front of me. I wanted to write down how I felt, about not being able to get around like I used to, not being able to work, my wife being pregnant with our first child, etc. Because of everything, I felt like less of a man. I started writing, and soon found myself writing a poem about Death. Incidentally, it took me 20 years to realize, as of last November, that The Lord was with me that day, but that’s another story, if not a book.
I have talked to many people who have considered suicide. One common denominator amongst them is they regularly think about it. Why? Because ‘It’ is the only constant in their lives. Look around your life and see the way things change, every day, even by the minute. It can be overwhelming.
From my perspective, a person who contemplates suicide has done so over a period of time, so there are indications of the impending event. It’s not like a person wakes up one morning with the Klingon philosophy on their mind: “Today is a good day to die”. 20/20 hindsight is Man’s greatest attribute, and those that are left in the wake of a suicide say things like “I didn’t think he’d do it”, or “I should have seen it coming”.
But people die every day from occurrences that are not of their doing. Because of the unexpected suddenness, people should be prepared. Sounds rather contradictory, but it makes sense.
First, and I’m sure you’ve all heard it before, you should have a will and life insurance. I want to take this a step further. If you can afford it, have a small life insurance policy entrusted to a friend, or somebody who can front the monies. That way, in the event of your death, people who cannot otherwise afford to travel to your funeral can do so with the proceeds from the policy. Disclaimer: Always check with your financial and legal consultants before doing anything.
In a letter to Dear Abby the writer was bemoaning the fact that an old friend had died. Because she hadn’t heard from her friend in a while, she set out to find out if there was a problem, and consequently was informed by the family about the death. Similarly, I had a Great Aunt that had died, and one day when I inquired about her health, was told she had died six months before! Obviously non-notification is a common problem.
So, make a list of the people you want informed upon your demise. This can be incorporated into the will, left with a friend or the executor of the estate. See disclaimer.
Finally, have the last word. Literally. Make up tapes or CD’s for the people you LOVE, telling them about the way you feel towards them. Tell your kids how proud you are, your spouse about the wonderful life you had, etc. Use your imagination and be nice; This may be your lasting legacy.
And remember, someday it may be too late to tell them you LOVE them, so do it today.
I Love my kids:
Tanya, Robbie and Trinity;
Michael, Krystal and Colton; and last but not least
Terence, our Army brat!
Love you too, Kiddo!
THE POEM
August 1, 1997 DEATH
Originally written July 27, 1982 (That Day!)
DEATH, that cunning artist of despair. It stalks its prey anytime, day or night, seeking young or old, healthy or sick, or those caught unaware. It hovers over you when you are eating, sleeping, or just sitting. It can act directly or use one of its allies, Man. It can act swiftly and mercifully, or slow and agonizingly.
We have all seen DEATH. It is apparent everywhere we look:
A loose board on the stairs;
Teenager with his parents car on Friday night;
An armed robber at a bank;
A person eating dinner after too much to drink;
A hot bubble bath.
It even strikes on joyous occasions:
A birth;
A wedding;
A party.
But it is most subtle when it creeps up through a person's emotions:
Despair;
Lonliness;
Fear;
Hate.
Mostly, DEATH attacks people through others, but its greatest joy is when it makes a person turn on himself.
Suicide is DEATH's ultimate ecstasy!
And DEATH is ecstatic right now.
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