You Can't Go Back

Arguably, this is the best my life has ever been. Hands down. No contest. THEE BEST. Do I have everything I want? Fuck no! And that's a good thing. For a person like me, that's a GREAT thing. I always need the next thing. It drives me. It does most people, but I know it does me for a fact.

But I'm a bit, wistful for the past. Specifically my time in Austin. I miss the people I knew there. I miss the me that I was there. It was such a fantastic time for me and about 60% of the time, I knew it. I was sad, don't get me wrong. I fell for someone there, nothing came of it, and that haunted me - FOR YEARS. But I still loved that time.

I find myself trying to grab a little of that magic. I will see someone post on a friend's page or something. That will lead me to explore what has gone on in their lives. It seems a lot of people I knew then are no longer in Austin either. Their lives have moved on too, of course, happily I hope.

Sometimes, Mister and I talk about where we go from here. Florida is not the dream destination for either of us. Most signs point to the Pacific NorthWest or perhaps Montana. But every so often, he will throw out, "What about Austin". And I got excited at the prospect. There are still a few people left I talk to and love and miss terribly. But would that be wise? Would I subconsciously be trying to live an a life that no longer exists?

So what's the point of this post? No point really. Just what got me up at 3 or 4 this morning and wouldn't let me return to sleep.

Father’s Day

Last year the day landed the week after Grandfather passed. I was worried about today, but after the grief-fest of the last few weeks (Freudian slip, I accidentally wrote years because that is far more accurate).

I’m doing well. Nice to see friends’ posts of their fathers. It’s so wonderful how many people have loving, caring parents. For the rest of us, it’s wonderful that other people stepped in to give us that as my Grandparents did for me.

This year has really shown me how much Grandfather was the patriarch. His abscense is staggering. On the anniversary of his passing, this photo I took 3 years prior at a convention popped up. I remember being very struck by the oddness of being all alone in this huge hall. There should have been a few people around but there weren’t. It now feels like a premonition of what this past year held. Amazing who stood by and helped and who vanished.

The world feels like this hall now, with the ubiquitous empty chair.

I will always miss you, Grandfather. Happy Father’s Day

My Last Meal with My Grandfather

Today is 50 weeks since I lost my Grandfather. I'm hit hard with that this afternoon. I am sitting here crying. Listening to the rain hit the skylight and reflecting. I did a little calculating in my head and it occurred to me that the last meal we had together, which is kind of the day I feel like I saw a glimpse of my Grandfather for the last time, was a Sunday morning that officially will be a year ago on Memorial Day. He replied to an email I had sent him asking if he needed anything. I was regularly cooking for him at this point as my Grandmother was occupied enough with just taking care of all his other needs. He wrote back asking me to go to McDonald's...


Hello Car

Thank you for your message, and, gentle concern for my well-being...little or no appetite these days...but I have a suggestion...would you mind
getting a "Big Breakfast" for
Me...tomorrow...at say, about
8:30 a.m.? Pancakes, potato,
Syrup, etc....and a egg McMuffin for Grandmother and yourself? It would help get the day off to a good start...don't ask Grandmother about this...for she would probably cancel the order, and I don't wish for that to happen..
Thanks for your help
Grandfather


This is a part of our last email exchange. I, of course, saw him all the way to the end. And we had a great final afternoon together before he slipped into a coma. He died 10:50am on Jun 10, 2017, a Saturday morning. I was getting dressed to go be with him for the rest of the day. We were told it could be a week before he passed so I was surprised when the phone rang. But I knew.

I knew in that email he knew. This was all he could do. He barely could come to the table to eat. I see him, my six and a 1/2 foot tall giant of a Grandfather hunched over. Barely able to slide his walker across the berber carpet. I am HAUNTED by that image. Whenever people see me crying, I'm inevitably thinking about that. It breaks me to my core. He did it though. For Grandmother and I. The Three Musketeers we called ourselves, since I was little. It was our last meal together out of the thousands we had shared, all over the globe. Not in an exotic locale, not in a beautiful restaurant with amazing culinary fare. In our condo's little kitchen, breakfast from McDonald's, that none of us really felt like eating because we knew.


I will treasure the memory of that breakfast, that morning, for the rest of my life.