Yep

Though I am unsure why, a couple of the youngin's from the paper want to go to lunch with me and Boopie. The mere fact they want to have lunch with us makes my day. They exude life, talent, joy, youth, intelligence. I look forward to Friday.

The Spain-Portugal match would have delighted you. Torres still not up to par, but Villa shining like you predicted. Ronaldo failed to inspire or much of anything else. The officiating stinks, even to the point of FIFA considering goal-line technology. I envision sensors like those that hockey employs.

I do not know what I would do without K. She offers a perspective of you I need. Without her, my imagination would carry me to places hiding monsters I cannot control. If I dwell there, I lose.

Heard from the brothers and the musician. Their messages tell me much about their characters. I realize a mere breeze could tear the gossamer links we have, but I continue to be grateful.

I miss you, dude.

Later.

Day in the life

I had a long day yesterday. My as yet unmet counselor's husband called on Sunday to say she had to have emergency surgery. So rather than sit in the apartment all day, I went with Connie and her three grandsons.

Through a variety of circumstances, she could not take them to her house, and they could not stay at their house, either. We made a cat food run to Wallyworld. We visited a park with a climbing wall and play equipment. We stopped at a dollar store to get snacks. Yummm. Cheetos and Swedish Fish for breakfast. Then we met Drew, his sig O and two girls plus a little friend at a park that has a splash pad. After about an hour there, we loaded up and headed to Drew's house for snowcones.

The day sounds pretty innocuous, but getting in and out of the car with o2 and purse, then helping a barely 3-year-old in and out of his carseat takes a toll. I wiped out when I got home.

Having eaten nothing but crap all day, I had some sort of attack. I had an intense pain, not pressure. Like extra bad indigestion, sort of. I wondered if it were my heart. I lay down until it subsided, then ate something, took my meds and went to bed.

* * *

Somehow I feel totally disconnected today. Maybe I have hidden so much my PHriends give up on me. Or forget me. Or think I am off my rocker. Or simply think I no longer care. I guess I want to break out the pity party paraphernalia.

I miss your understanding, dude.

Later.

Lost

Brandon steps on the edge of eternity.

Brandon spent the past year in a hospital in Kentucky, never quite getting well enough to leave. His heart and lungs fail him. Finally, he rallied enough to go to Cleveland. The docs put a hole in his heart, hoping to save him. Brandon is 30. He is witty and ornery.

Communication with him fell off drastically over the year, at a time when he needed us the most. He had little access to a computer, so his support system was snatched from him. The PHolks talked about him, and we sent messages for a time. Gradually our lives shifted to other matters. We still wondered about him, but not as often, and no one seemed to know anything new. Keeper of information Colleen kept the one link to Brandon. We will know.

Chat with Brando zinged. Momma Hen would fuss, Brando would pick and then she would send him to the corner. Great fun.

Brandon and I shared the love of food. We joked about the Big Texan and the 72-ounce steak. He was ecstatic when Famous Dave's came to Amarillo. Now we could talk about the various dishes there. I am glad he got to eat a $50 steak.

* * *

What a chore this grieving. The emotion, pain, uncertainty. I am blessed with the presence of others who share the hurt. Each helps the other bear the burden. Thanks.

I think of you often, dude.

Later.

Images

The thing with facades, you never know what lies behind. Fine-grained walnut, solid and mellow with a patina of years. Red tinges of crumbling brick mingling with dingy yellowed paint. An aging tin building, pockmarked with bullet holes and creeping death called rust.

Most of us put on some sort of disguise. For a variety of reasons, we fear baring the vulnerability of our true selves to many, if any. Most of us join the masquerade unconsciously after a time, our fronts always in place. The danger lies in forgetting or losing ourselves.

The people who seek to penetrate the walls around us deserve the reward of an honest view. But most of all, we deserve an honest view of ourselves.

Peace, dude.

Later.

Spoon fed

I shared the Spoon Theory with my godson's wife. She suffers from interstitial cystitis, fibromyalgia and an assortment of other symptoms. She later posted the link on FB, so I think she found the concept apt.

* * *

Hiding: Staying in the apartment and not socializing face to face.

Hiding: Going online but invisible to everyone.

Hiding: Allowing fear(?), hurt(?), imagination(?), to cripple me.

Hiding: Not living.

Hiding: Safe.

Hiding: Cowardly.

* * *

A year ago yesterday, you fretted.

Later.

Way to go

My world shifts under my feet. Life moves and grows and, as unsettled as the changes leave me, only two choices present themselves. I choose to continue.

I never claim change as a pal. Change leans toward incidiousness -- creeping in under the veneer. I wake up to find a whole new picture. Some changes hit full face. Some come out of nowhere, some you see coming  from a great distance. Coping and adjusting, coping and adjusting. No one gets a guarantee.

Throw in the human element. Some people drift in and out of our lives. Nelda from fifth grade. She shaved her legs. David from college. He kept us all laughing and died from AIDS. Major from work. He soon departed for bigger and better places. He is Washington correspondent for Fox.

Other people hang around a bit. Marty, Karen, Vivian. Then inevitable change scatters us.

Some friends go through most of our life changes with us. They stand beside us or behind us or ahead of us to make sure we continue on the path. They share the heartaches and joys with us. They grow to be as much a part of us as fingers or hair.

People line our paths so we too can help them. When you fail to reach out to someone you know needs a hand or kind word, you fail yourself most of all. You lose an opportunity of a lifetime every time.

* * *

WC: Spain looking good. Torres still off his game. Portugal, Brazil, The Netherlands. Hmmm.

* * *

Dude, I appreciate where you came from and those who shaped your life. I am grateful for the opportunity.

Later.

Speechless

The word machine broke this morning.

I miss you; I cared.

Later.