Death & shades of gray

All things die. Nothing lasts forever. Although they say cockroaches will. Lovely. That's wonderful something to devour the dead wood after the human race is long gone. Or I guess that's termites isn't it? Well same difference.

Remember that song that states If Love never lasts forever.... I think forever is a concept that maybe only God understands. I'm not going to get "religious or even spiritual" promise.

Things - not entirely the right term. People, we all die. Pets, kittens become kats and get old and die. Dogs, pups to dogs and etc. Marriages, relationships, partnerships die. We don't nurture them or cherish them or they become so one sided as to turn into leaches of our souls to the point that we must save ourselves by allowing them to die. And sometimes it becomes necessary to slay them to protect the precious. And for a time (long or short) life goes on.

The sickest saddest thing that is sometimes allowed to die is our hopes and dreams. Sometimes we must let a hope or dream go when it relies upon another not aligned with it. How do we prune our hopes and dreams to be self sufficient? Should we? I don't know the answer to this question. There is a large number of people at my church that are 80 and above! I don't want them to die but they will. I hope they will live on. But do they hope this?

I have other hopes and dreams that may and likely are contrary to the "others" these hopes revolve around. Is this wrong? Should I let them die? I don't know and in some cases have even tried. I have even pursued other dreams that could have eclipsed these yet in turn each of these has fallen upon it's own sword.

I have lost many people dear to me. Whether through actual death or the death of relatedness. Right and wrong seem to be allusive in this confusion of death and loss. I can only hope that this lack of real direction will soon end. That light will shine upon the "right" path and cast shadow on the "wrong" obliterating the thousands of shades of gray.

Oh never failing light, cast back the shades and shadows. Lumen our path. Cast away the doubt. Convict our hearts and minds so to lead us with joy through this life.

Friends

My initial title, "battle" doesn't seem that it could morph from one to the other. Does it? My nephew, (Nicholas, Nicky) would enjoy the use of the word morph. He is quick to impart his 4 years of worldly experience. For him morph has to do with the Power Rangers and usually includes words like "Mighty" and "Thundersord" or some such. Please don't quote.

Nicky has the world simplified down to a level where he is master. This might be a good plan. He is a mighty morphing power ranger complete with, sword, laser weapons and special powers. His dietary intake is provided for him by his mother whom he calls, Elaine or waitress. He will do a thing that he has been ordered to stop at least 3 additional times. His proclamation of being done doing it anyway. He will eat 15 black olives, 1/2 piece of bread less than he takes and a bite or two of the rest of his food. He will gladly (and routinely) locate and take chocolate bars, cookies and other snacks to supplement this amazing diet. His favorite drink, Michelob light. Favorite desert teramisu. Everyone loves and admires Nick. He is a Mans boys man or is that a boys Mans boy? Hmm. Anyway Nick has things figured out. His battles are simple. Violent but simple. And he always wins.

I/we those of us trying to be adults, not so simple. We don't always win. Sometimes it's not clear if we even want to. This is where I was going to talk about my battle. Facing the demon that is no more. Armed with the sword of conviction and the armor of truth. The post that contained these words lost forever. The demon thought to be no more returned and in very short order almost took hold with the grip of despair.

Friends. Friends, relations, partners, lovers. The importance of these types of companions is the similarities. Not the differences. Friends are there for you when in need. It is not a weakness (although it feels like it) to call on them. Friends may become angry if you don't. Friends never judge. They guide you back to the light when all is darkness. They call you on things you would wish to be called on. They hear the subtleties in your voice or written word and acknowledge the plea for help.

I have such friends. Let me be on someones list as such a friend too.

It's all about the hair

Arrived in VT yesterday morning. 7:30 AM after driving all night. The night from, well really 1AM on passed swiftly. Almost without notice. I'm not even clear when it got light. I had two really special things to pass the time. The first and foremost a friend who gave of themselves (on the phone) and was so present for me. I've come to believe that our existence is only realised through relationship. It's like the tree that fell in the woods. If no one heard it did it make a sound? If no one knew us and loved us did we exist at all? The second a book on CD. Those are great for long drives.

Skip this part if you have any sense. Digression!

I'm such a geek. Debugging code at the same time as writing this. My debugger keeps locking the old IBM thinkpad. Moussorgsky - Pictures at an Exhibition is playing on my stereo. I keep hearing a little scratch on the medium highs (left channel). I believe the balance potentiometer on the pre-amp has dirty contacts. Very annoying to an audiophile. There is a fire in the wood stove mainly because the furnace is not working and I can't get the part i need till Monday. Oh my favorite part, the amp, a modified David Haffler 500, Modified to 1 Horsepower per channel into 8 ohms (HAW Haw more power) I can actually disconnect the speaker leads and
arc weld with them! Now how many audiophiles can say that? Anyway the amp has dual 75,000 microfarad mega capacitors. During the intense crescendos they actually almost drain! Now that is music!

Back to the topic.

Yesterday, 7:30AM parents house. Breakfast, conversation little snooze on couch. 10:30 leaving for home and real sleep. Irene finally comes out of the bedroom. As I gaze upon the walking dead and am asked how I am I wonder how many more days she might live. I respond with little kindness, "way better than you!" Her skin has none of the normal color that living people have, but it's not pale either. Scary, it's dark, grey. I think, she's dead. She's already dead! Her body just hasn't acknowledged it yet. Her hair is....no, I'm not a writer there is not explanation. She still has plenty of hair, completely white. It is all bunched up on one side of the top of her head. How does it do that? I understand from Dad that she has not eaten or showered since arriving. Almost 2 weeks now.
Fury rages within me. I saw her in November. She had color and at least 15 more pounds on her bones. Eat Irene. Do you want us to hospitalize you? Horror at my next thought. "How will we pay for that?" She definitely intends to die or just has no desire to consider the most basic necessities of living. Two weeks! Can you imagine? I must get myself home. I have not slept since Thursday night. It's now almost mid day Saturday.

I return to parents house for dinner. Irene doesn't eat. She doesn't even come to the table. Says she's full. Full of what? Shit! Disdain for life! You tell me cause it's not food. There is a birthday cake for her. It was her birthday a few days ago and she insisted on waiting till I got here to
celebrate. Amazing, she came to the table and actually blew out a couple of the candles. Cake is dolled out to the living and the dead alike. The dead took a bite. I did not however witness the swallow. I have been belligerent, spiteful, unkind through the entire meal. I wonder who I am. I
feel ashamed as I utter yet another declaration of my disgust.

Irene's hair looks beautiful for a dead woman. She accompanied my sister, Mother and sister's offspring to the "hair place", front for upper class drug dealing. Who cuts, styles and does a woman's hair for $6.00 and drives a Mercedes, a Lexus and a Lotus! Maybe he just cuts alot of hair. Anyway Irene's hair looks good. Really good as if it belongs on a living person.

Irene is in that place, you know the one. She can remember things from her childhood and earlier adult life flawlessly. Or seemingly so. But she can not remember a conversation from an hour ago. You can not reason with her. You can not alter her conviction. You can not cause her a desire to live. WHAT IS RIGHT? My Dad is going to let her die! She doesn't frigging eat!

Sunday
I am ashamed of my behavior last night. It's 8:30AM, I believe church is at 10AM. I really need to pray today. I wish I knew how. Teach me to pray preacher man. Is it a state of being, state of mind, how I arrange myself physically? Should I prostrate myself and call upon the one? Guide me, lead me, kick me in the ass. Something here. I will go and sing and pray. Need shower.

Hope my hair looks good.

And there is none to help

Going backwards in time. I also pledge to refrain from having all the ridiculous ravings follow a religious theme. However comma as I learned today that my great aunt's condition is worsening. And tell me who at 42 can say their great aunt doesn't have a condition that is worsening? Digression! Um right. The condition, ornarosis( severe and debilitating orneriness. (How many non words can you use in a sentence?) Gotcha beat? OK in addition, possible alzheimer's, dementia, depression, hypertension, any number of cardiac troubles.....stop me please.

This woman who's birthday is today, 93 years young? Is so ornery that she refuses to leave long Island where it costs like a gazillion bucks a month to live. She's on (duh) a fixed income $600/month. I can barely make a week on that and I don't live in the Emerald city! Now if I were the wizard I'd zap her ass back to Kansas. MAJOR DIGRESSION. Reality something she can not face. She has an issue with something that is not a river in Egypt. If you've ever dealt with older folks and ones that are a bit ahh past it, you know that you can reason with them until blue in the face. Sometimes they agree, mostly not. But when they agree they quickly forget that agreement.

IE's - Aunt Irene (Irene from here) You're not OK to live by yourself anymore. Yes I am. But you only eat one or two meals a week. No sometimes three or four. But you don't have the money to maintain your household. There is nothing wrong with it. But you don't take your medicine, your blood pressure is 220/200 and you can't sleep more than an hour or two a night. Oh I sleep fine. But you don't pay your bills, the phone is off, heath insurance canceled (MAJOR FUCKING PANIC), no registration on car. Etc etc for ever. Amen

So you see the ludicrousness of the arguments. And if at a moment she might agree to move or use proceeds from her $750K 3 BR ranch vs giving to the church for her own care. All recollection of that agreement quickly evaporates. So you begin again.

Be not far away for trouble is near and there is none to help. Christs plea to his father as he hung dying on the cross. Earlier he (while praying) had begged God to allow this cup to pass him by and added not my will but yours be done. Oh that this cup of Irene's blood could pass my family by. A Eucharistic metaphor. The cup does pass but as Christians (and please pardon me for those who are not) we must first drink. Irene would like my father to come take care of her. This is just not an option. OMG I'll be taking care of him and mother before long if I'm right. Way too far away anyway. She might say, "be not far from me Art (dad's name)" ....." As it stands none can help. It is like a battle to get behind yourself in ever tightening circles until you might actually disappear. Ever wonder when a dog chases it's tail is it really trying to catch the tail or just see what it looks like from behind?

To sum up this crime against free hard drive space. The above is a peek into why people, families have loved ones committed or declared incompetent. It is how they develop the hardness necessary to ignore and likely trample upon the wishes of loved ones. It is a drink from the cup of the bitterness of age that we hire lawyers, take our elders assets and sock them away hording our sanity and preserving their lives. God help us. God help us if we don't continue to love them, visit them, sit and (agony) talk with them. This may one day be us. God spare those who come after me the burden of my decrepidness!

On the eve of the resurrection I find myself on my third, yes I said third beer in about 30 minutes and am fervently pondering the sacrifice. We (my/our) church held a vigil from Thursday night Maundy Thursday to noon Good Friday. As they of course do every year. Now I took the 5AM to 7AM shift of the Vigil. I found a book on the crucifixion appropriately left in very plain sight for the "watchman of the night." The book written by a woman, seems to me only women can truly understand real sacrifice in these modern times anyway, sought to convey the writers understanding of the necessity of Christs sacrifice. It seems that the writer believes the humiliating death on the cross as a common criminal including the real pain of being strung up and tortured was necessary to demonstrate the completeness of Gods Love for the world. Specifically us, his children in the world. When you really think about it. The central symbol of a cross, modern day equivalent (electric chair) for a faith symbol is Preposterous! But for 2 thousand or more years we have carried this symbol up and down church isles, public streets, into battle and into the most secret places. I believe all of us who claim to be Christian would benefit from closer study of the meaning of this symbol and more specifically what it means to us. I place myself at the forefront of folks who need to do this work.