Book of Jamez

55 y/o malcontent, something of a writer

Category: Family

  • Reflections on a Starr

    My sister Amy asked me to post some fond memories of my Grandmother Starr the other day on Facebook. At the time I couldn’t recall any pleasant memories as I have a particularly unpleasant one that happened during one of our last communications.

    My Grandmother is old, but not dying to the best of my knowledge, but there was a recent scare and everyone got all sentimental. Well, I’ve kind of distanced myself, so I didn’t… I’m just mental everyday. She must be in her late 80s or early 90s at this point and I haven’t seen her since my mother died, which I think was in 2004, but I can’t recall, at my Mother’s funeral and Grandmother didn’t even know who I was, so I can’t imagine that she’d remember me today either.

    I was told that my Grandmother provided food and shelter to my mother, my sister (Dawn) and I when I was a newborn – as my father was always drunk (or so they say). She often provided food for my family in later years when my mother was always drunk.

    When Dawn and I were fairly young we would join our Grandmother at Nuclear Protest rallies where she would take up her guitar on the large stage and sing protest songs, songs that she had written and speak out against nuclear power. Dawn and I would sing together songs that were familiar to us (Barbara Mandrell, Oak Ridge Boys, Alabama… mostly country stuff) on the stage to much fanfare while Grandmother played the guitar. It could have launched our careers and turned us into 1980s version of Justin Beiber, but alas – I was a big old drama queen and would throw fits if Dawn started the song on the wrong beat or sounded off key… yes, on stage. Me? I was always on. 😉

    The family curse (that when you become a teenager you can’t live with Mom anymore) sent me to live with Grandmother. I was horrible to her, often stealing money from her purse, cutting the screen windows to use the screen as a filter for bongs, burned bibles (one I understand was a Family Bible – whatever that means) and just being a general shit head. She tolerated a lot of shit from me and my friends while I lived there, she should get recognition for that if nothing else.

    I will always remember her bringing music into my world, exposing me to the Dulcimer, the Guitar, the Piano. She’s the one that got me writing, she kept a diary and wrote her own songs and stories. She really was/is something special.

    In 1998, when I came out of the closet after I had moved to Washington, DC, I received a letter from her basically damning me for my “choice” to be gay. That’s the most current memory I have of her and it’s not a pleasant one. Since that letter I’ve had very little to do with her or her other children – truly I’m probably better off.

    I hope that in this life those who got to know her, got to know the parts of her that inspired, taught and sang to me and not the parts that led her to condemn me to hell.

  • Helpless

    Last week I received news that one of my best friends had tried to take their own life – thankfully they weren’t successful. Afterward, it was discovered that the suicidal thoughts had been growing more insistent in the last few weeks; they had been struggling with some issues for years; and they had kept it all to themselves.

    My first reaction to the news was one of fear and anger mixed with a lot of confusion – how did it get to this point? Then I would wonder how I had failed at the position of “best friend” if I couldn’t see how much they were hurting and how desperate they were for help. Then again wanting to punch them in the face for trying such a cowardly act as this or tears coming in sheets down my face for the thought of this world without them.

    It’s hard to sit half a country away and know all this is happening to someone you love, it’s harder still to know even the family and friends that are there with them are as helpless as I am, as befuddled, fearful and angry. I worry about the family, they are my family and I just don’t know how they’re going to get through this… then I remember God.

    I remember that I wouldn’t even have these people in my life if it weren’t for God, I wouldn’t even have my best friend still alive if not for His grace, his love, his support.

    Knowing and letting go are two very different things… and I’m still struggling a bit with the letting go. Still wondering how we got to this point and what we can do to get out of it.

    It wasn’t that long ago that I found myself wanting to jump off a balcony ( See Here) and end it all, and things were going pretty well for me at the time. I guess I don’t understand how depression works, how suicidal thoughts can get so prominent in our heads that we can’t see any other way out of situations.

    If you find yourself in a situation where you think suicide is the only option, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at

    1-800-273-8255

    There is always hope, always another way, always someone who loves you in the darkest of situations that can offer you a helping hand, a hug, a heartbeat.

  • What does untreated alcoholism look like?

    What does untreated alcoholism look like?

    Maybe it’s not what you think it is. It’s not just the bum lying on the sidewalk with a brown paper bag reeking of alcohol, nor the guy or gal that comes to the bar every night and passes out or gets in trouble.

    My mothers stepfather was an alcoholic (not supposed to diagnose others as alcoholics – but if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck…). At 60 some years of age a doctor told him that he had to quit drinking or he would die. So he did – all by his lonesome. Grandpa was one of the orneriest people I’d ever met when I was a kid and we had a code word for when he was in a particularly dangerous drunk and it was time to high tail it out of there. When he was not drinking his disposition didn’t change much, if anything he got angrier and angrier. Until eventually one day my sister found him in his apartment where he had shot himself in the head. Untreated alcoholism.

    We can see it in A.A. meetings to. The drunk that keeps going back out to experiment – doing more research. They keep coming back and we keep hoping this time they will get it, this time they will start to change. Sometimes they “get it” after the first relapse, sometimes after the 50th and sadly sometimes never at all. But other people who help those folks try, they stay sober and the act of them helping the person who is struggling shores up their own sobriety ten fold. Our book says:

    “Of alcoholics who came to A.A. and really tried, 50% got sober at once and remained that way; 25% sobered up after some relapses, and among the remainder, those who stayed on with A.A. showed improvement. Other thousands came to a few A.A. meetings and at first decided they didn’t want the program. But great numbers of these—about two out of three—began to return as time passed.” Alcoholics Anonymous, page xx

    Those are some encouraging numbers and keep up my hopes.

    We see a different kind of untreated alcoholism in A.A. in addition to the chronic relapser. That’s the alcoholic who’s been coming to meetings for 19 odd years but not growing spiritually. They may be angry, indignant, self-pitying most of the time and sometimes they catch a sliver of serenity that brings a brief respite to the turmoil of their mind. But more often than not its only lip service. Their hoping to stay sober by osmosis, leeching off the wellness of others incognito.

    Sadly, they’ve only put the plug in the jug and not taken the action steps to recover. There’s an old saying in A.A. “What do you get if you sober up a horse thief? A sober horse thief.” Our liquor was but a symptom, and working the steps we get down to causes and conditions which lead to finding a power greater than ourselves to recover. It’s not easy, but usually it’s less painful than a dry drunk.

    I believe there is a solution to alcoholism in the 12 steps. I believe, based on my own experience, that it is a limitless load of serenity and happiness – if I work for it.

  • but, that's not the miracle…

    This last weekend I was at the Gopher State Roundup in Bloomington, MN. Over 8,000 people attend this round up each year and it can be a bit overwhelming. I haven’t been in a few years, the last time I was in town for the Roundup there were about 4,500 folks, so it just keeps growing. At the Saturday night speaker we found ourselves without seats in the main room, thankfully they show all the speakers on the closed circuit TV that you can see in your bed room.

    Love and Tolerance was the theme this year, I only heard two of the speakers reference it even though a huge banner was draped over the curtain right behind them. Almost every speaker did have one phrase in common though: “but, that’s not the miracle…”. Each one said it about some part of their journey in recovery and why it wasn’t as special as the real miracle.

    I had met several old friends who live in the greater Minneapolis area and go to meetings up there, it was nice to catch up and relive old times. Each of them, without mentioning it, reminded me of how pissed off I was in AA. It really made me remember all the bitterness, intolerance and selfishness that I displayed and honestly felt during the first few years of my recovery. Some people still fondly remember me as the “angry guy”.

    You see, in early recovery I still thought I should run the show and believe me, my actors and actresses kept screwing up the production. I would honestly look around the room before the meeting a criticize (in my own head most of the time) what others had done to help set up or get ready, sometimes even what they were wearing. Didn’t they know how important this was to me? Didn’t they understand how hard I was struggling to just make it through a day – they could at least try to do things the right way. But of course that was me being my selfish, self-centered, ego-centric self and wondering why you didn’t realize that pleasing me was the most important job in AA.

    At one particular meeting I was so angry you probably could have toasted marshmallows near me, other people were not living up to my expectations one more time and I was just pissed. My friend at the time turned to me and said: “no one said you have to stay here”. That was it, I really needed to hear that and I looked at her, relieved and walked out of the meeting and away from that group, but that’s not the miracle…

    Luckily, I didn’t drink or go postal during this time but I assure you that was probably where I was headed if I didn’t find release soon. I didn’t know what to believe in anymore, I had seen the program work in other people and knew that something had happened that gave them an entire psychic change, something or someone gave them a solution. I didn’t have that nor did I really know how to get that all I really knew to do was read the Big Book and pray to a God I didn’t really want to believe in. That’s all I needed to stay sober – taking actions that didn’t believe would work. But, that’s not the miracle…

    For years after leaving this meeting I would attend meetings, I wasn’t interested in sharing my experience, strength, and hope as far as I was concerned my experience was flawed, my strength missing and I had little hope. I would listen to people yammer on in meetings about their problems, rarely hearing a solution (the book, the steps) and sometimes would be so pissed off again that I would stand up and walk out of the meeting. Sometimes I would walk out just knowing who the lead was, that person will never grow or change and I’m not interested in hearing the same crap that they’ve said countless times before. That’s not real recovery that’s just bringing your body and hoping that you learn by osmosis.

    I was in double digit so-called sobriety still the angry young man. I was lost and just didn’t know it. I had put my Big Book on a shelf to collect dust, hadn’t talked to God in quite a long time (unless something was wrong and I needed a pinch hitter), and wasn’t trying to be of service to anyone except myself. I didn’t drink in any of these years, nor take a drug… but I might as well have. I had the chance to go to a meeting with my friend Suzanne out of state and I spent the whole time obsessing about what they didn’t do right that I didn’t hear the message. Afterward, Suzanne remarked on the powerful stories of the speakers and I just wasn’t at the same meeting – I was still director and my actors were out of control again.

    So that’s how I found myself on a ship, a cruise ship, looking out over a beautiful starlit sky and thinking to myself “If I just throw myself off that would be the end of it.” That thought shook me, how did I get here again, how was I at the jumping off place? I was honestly pretty frightened and avoided the balcony the rest of the trip. I was lost, again.

    When I returned home I sought out help from someone who had what I wanted – serenity. I explained that I was lost and asked for direction and help finding a path again. I committed myself to shaking everyone’s hand before a meeting. I started reading my Big Book regularly again. I sought out step meetings and examples of service and action. Slowly, I got better (I guess that’s a personal opinion).

    The miracle is that I asked for help.

    The miracle is that I remembered “Faith without works is dead”.

    The miracle is that the anger is gone.

    The miracle is that I remembered God doesn’t make to hard terms to those who seek him.

    The miracle is things are exactly as they are meant to be and every once in a while, in the group therapy sessions the locals think is AA, I hear the real message of Alcoholics Anonymous and remember that someone else might be hearing it too.

  • I Am A Foster Child

    May is National Foster Care Month

    I am foster child.

    There are stories of kids saved from abused homes, whose families have died, who have run away from home or who were rescued from other horrible circumstances… I’m not one of those. I was a bad kid.

    In my teenage years I was a thief, a vandal and a poor student. I had no respect for those around me and didn’t ask for any in return. I was of nothing, surrounded by nothing and wanted nothing.  I was living with my grandmother when I was a teen as my Mother could not be bothered. I used my cunning and guile to take advantage of my grandmother, stealing money, manipulating her and generally getting my way. I would have likely continued that behavior until I turned 18 or killed myself which ever came first.

    Fortunately for me, and for my grandmother, I messed up. I broke into one of her locked rooms and ransacked it for booze money and was shortly apprehended by the authorities, placed in a group home for the weekend.

    When the social worker picked me up from the group home on that Monday morning he informed me that I was being placed in Foster Care in Galesville, WI (about 20 miles south of where I lived) where they hoped – away from all my fellow hooligans – I would straighten out and fly right.

    I arrived with the social worker at this long brown house at the edge of the town of Galesville, I’d been to Galesville before to see a dentist as a kid but didn’t think much of the place – at 15 I still didn’t and this house on the edge of town wasn’t making a good first impression.

    Inside that house I found two of the oldest people ever (they were perhaps in their early 40s back then) with gray hair and the lady sitting in rocking chair knitting. I knew immediately that I would be able to manipulate these people as easily as I had my grandmother. I was given some basic rules, shown to my room and introduced to Steve who was a kid who had lived with this family for a long, long time.

    It was scary that first night, I don’t think I slept much. I didn’t know these people, didn’t want to know them and definitely wasn’t staying.  School was out for me as it was the end of the school year and I would have the entire summer to get to know these people. Not an exciting prospect at the time.

    What happened for me in that foster home was everything that I needed. The foster parents, Ma and Pa as I call them affectionately, taught me about life as I had never considered it before. We had dinner each night and talked about our days, we did chores together, they gave me an allowance, taught me how to wake up for school on my own, held me accountable, and even gave me my first job of mowing lawns.

    Ma and Pa, their biological children and Steve, helped me learn basic fundamental things that were foreign concepts to me. Behaviors were formed that might never have had the chance to thrive in the environments that I was exposed to back home.

    Now don’t believe that spending 3 years in Foster Care turned me into an angel – far from it. I got in my share of scrapes as a young adult even spending a weekend in jail and going through drug and alcohol treatment twice.

    The thing is the life lessons that I learned in my foster home are still in my head and have kept me from making the disastrous decisions that were only a few steps out of reach. I go to work on time, I put forth my best effort, I try to help others – just some of the things I learned in my foster home.

    Best of all was that my foster family loved me, they still do. My Pa died two years ago and it was the hardest thing I ever experienced and I cried openly as my heart lost a huge piece. I talk to my Ma and the rest of the family regularly; I go “home” at least once a year and now try to spend Christmas’s with them. I also took the steps to change my last name to theirs, as an honor to Pa and the love that I’ve received.

    Somewhere out there a boy or a girl are looking for a family, maybe a temporary family, maybe their just looking for a little bit of hope. Maybe they just need to be loved, maybe they just need to be shown another way, and perhaps their heart could use some tending.

    Consider today becoming a foster parent, I think it was a rewarding experience for my Ma and Pa as they did it for about 20 years. I can only testify that it was beneficial to me and to several of the other kids that came through when I was there – I still talk to some of them today and most of them still call home to check on Ma.

    If you’ve ever considered it or are now curious, here are a few links to look into it.

    Foster Care Month: http://www.fostercaremonth.org/Pages/default.aspx

    American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry http://www.aacap.org/cs/root/facts_for_families/foster_care

  • The 2009 WI Holiday

    When I left WI for DC 11 some years ago I made it pretty clear to everyone how much I dislike winter and that I wouldn’t be home for Christmas. When Pa died last November I looked back over the last decade and saw all the time that I could have been there to see him and spend time with him and instead I stayed in DC. So this year I decided it was time to go home to see Ma and the family. I planned early and had a ticket to leave DC on Christmas Eve and come home on the 30th. The best part was that I didn’t tell her I was coming. I did have to tell Rhonda though, to be sure someone would actually be home if I surprised everyone (One year I called home to wish Ma and Pa a Merry Christmas and my nephew Michael let me know they weren’t home but off gambling…. on Christmas!!! gasp!).

    So that’s how I ended up at Washington National Airport on Christmas Eve morning surrounded by a million people trying to get home for the holiday’s. I arrived an hour and a half before my plane was to depart (thanks to a ride from Gary) and it took me that long exactly to check my bag and get through security. I’d never encountered lines like that at the airport before. I had an aisle seat and was across from a woman who claimed to be a reporter and was asking the Flight Attendants a million questions and more often than not I’d have a Flight Attendants behind in my face as they bent to listen to her and answer her query. I can get through that kind of thing, I have the Ipod on shuffle and the Kindle in my lap, I can get through almost anything… then she taps me on the shoulder. I remove one of my ear buds and look at her questionably. “Do you know what time it is?” She asks. I think she wasn’t a reporter but just likes annoying people.

    Landing in MSP the runways were white and the snow was blowing around quite wildly. Friends in Eau Claire said they had ice coming down. With a three hour layover I had plenty of time to contemplate being stuck in the Minneapolis airport overnight. I made alternate plans to take the Chippewa Valley Airport Shuttle an hour after my plane was to take off (just in case) and was about to make a room reservation (just in case) when we boarded our small commuter plane for Eau Claire. A very uneventful short flight.

    I rented a car in Eau Claire and drove the wrong way out of the airport (with all the snow I couldn’t see very well and the roads were all blanketed in white) to my friends Pat and Brenda’s where I was greeted by Pat and Brenda out in the garage smoking and then my (home from the Army in Iraq) nephew Scooter in a bathrobe and not much else… it was frigid cold out. I had intended to go tot he Pacific Group that night for a meetings but the weather kept us all from our intended plans. We did get to drive around aimlessly looking for somewhere to eat dinner – we arrived at McDonald’s 5 minutes before they closed. That evening we opened gifts from our stockings. Christmas Day arrived and we had a nice breakfast cooked by Sami and Helen and then opened gifts. It was entertaining. I received several different superhero shirts, great stuff for me. After gifts were opened I jumped in the rental car and started my drive to Galesville (about 100 miles south).

    The roads on the interstate were not as bad as I’d imagined, there were miles where it was snowing, miles where it was raining and stretches of road that looked like it hadn’t been affected by the weather at all. Just outside of Osseo there were two Semi’s lying on their side on opposite sides of the road but other than that no obvious accidents. I arrived in Galesville in a relatively short time and attempted to get up Rhonda’s driveway but the ice had me sliding back down it pretty quickly so I followed them (Rhonda and Greg) out of town to Ma’s. At Ma’s were Kenny and Sheila and they were all a little surprised to see me.

    The six of us all went to the movies, this has been a Christmas tradition for me for a few years now, to see Avatar in 3D. I liked it, Ma thought it was “meh”, Kenny can’t deal with the 3D effects … but it was nice to be all together. When we got out of the theater the weather had gotten a bit worse and the roads were treacherous, we had planned to go see the holiday lights but instead we ended up at Ma’s eating dinner and watching Observe and Report (a movie to avoid, this was the second time I’d seen it and I did try to warn them).

    The day after Christmas was when all the family managed to get together and exchange gifts. But that day for lunch I did manage to get to Rocky Roccoco’s for a slice of pizza. The Christmas festivities started around 5:00, Ma, Kenny and Sheila, Rhonda and Greg, Uncle Rick, Michael and Michelle, and Cory, Danielle and Charlie were all there… and lets not forget Winnie and Sammy. It was nice and everyone seemed to have a good time. Lots of photos of Charlie (My grand-nephew) were taken by all and he was very entertaining. The nicest part for me was Uncle Rick being there, he sounds so much like Pa it was like he was in the room with us enjoying the holiday. I’m glad I went home and got to hear that (Ma says she can’t hear it but Rhonda and Kenny have said they can).

    Sunday morning I headed back to the Eau Claire area, stopping at Taco John’s to have my favorite lunch, and that evening I went to the Northside meeting and listened to good discussions on step 12. It was refreshing to be there and to hear the traditions and real recovery. Monday I had breakfast at my favorite breakfast place, (Heckel’s) and that evening went to the 5:30 Big Book meeting at Club 12, more good recovery … it’s like a booster shot that will hopefully help keep me sane back here in DC for a while.

    Tuesday morning, bright and… wait, it was dark, I headed off to the airport to return the car and board the plane for MSP. Nothing to speak of happened until I boarded the plane to DC and was seated next to one of the two screaming toddlers on the plane. I put my Ipod on as soon as I could but the little guy was sleeping and thrashing in his sleep, hitting me several time and or dropping his bottle or screaming … it didn’t really help that the heating system in the plane was screwy – in the back of the plane where I was the heat was so bad I was sweating and in the front I understand they kept their jackets on.

    Alas, it’s over, I’m home and the cat couldn’t be happier. My friends in DC were on Facebook complaining about the cold but having just come from WI I can tell them all it’s warm here, warm and nice and you should appreciate it.

  • Aloha and Mahalo AAC Inc

    So for the company trip this year we headed off to Maui for 8 days of relaxation, fun and sun. Ana had mentioned Hawaii so I worked on Jim for a few months before he agreed, then I had to work on him to get him to agree to bring Vera. He did thank me right before we left – he knows how much work Vera does for us.

    I booked the whole trip Expedia and we did it on the phone with an agent who made several promises that were not kept in the end. Also the day after the trip was booked I received an email that said one leg of our flight was canceled – this happened several times between when we booked and when we left. Calls and emails to Expedia for assistance were all roads to no where.

    Our connections in the lodging industry got us room upgrades (ocean views) and free breakfast. We stayed at the Fairmont Kea Lani which was so lovely and just about perfect. Our rooms were great and we all had an ocean view. I highly recommend this hotel to anyone that might be staying in Maui. I loved the pool and even had a spa treatment.

    On Friday we left BWI for ATL at 9:55 a.m. on Delta (Delta was great the whole trip) and spent almost two hours in ATL, hooking up with Lisa and Rankine there for the next leg. The flight from ATL to LAX was relatively painless, I watched G.I. Joe on the little screen in front of me (horrible movie) for $6. And most of us participated in a trivia game that was also on the monitors.  In LAX we had a short layover before getting on the plan to OGG (Maui). On the leg to OGG we had great flight attendants, I shook my head no at the free peanuts and cookie but the attendant insisted, telling me they had exceeded their trash quota for the month and I had to be responsible. And there was an lady that came to a group of us and had us do art work which was great she was entertaining.

    We landed in Maui at 8:40 p.m. local time which was about 1:40 home time and we were all pretty tired. The directions to the hotel were not really great and it’s REALLY dark on the road to the hotel so it was hard to see the map in the car and figure out street signs. Gary and I headed up the wrong road for a while before I remembered the GPS on my Blackberry and figured out we were heading in the wrong direction. Even though we got a little off track we were still the “First Team to Arrive”.

    I didn’t sleep well the first night, I was awake several different times during the night for no reason and finally at 5 just woke up and started the day. It was nice to have free breakfast and the coffee in the room helped me. Each room had a balcony and I watched the light come into the day from it all but one of the mornings, it was rather spiritual for me. I read my daily meditations out there. [Meanwhile back in DC, Mouse had been scared to death when Mark A stopped by to feed her – it was then that she realized Daddy wasn’t coming home that night – *scratch, scratch, scratch on the pole*]

    Saturday after spending some time at the pool and in the sun Gary and I headed off to Lahaina where he got to see the Sugar Cane Train (he likes trains) come into a station and turn around. We then headed back to the hotel. I got a facial at the Spa. We had dinner at Carl Jr.s… well we don’t have one of those in DC and an early night, I think I was asleep by 9:00 I think. [Meanwhile back in DC: Mouse had been almost all alone for two whole days except for that stranger Mark who she didn’t want to get to know *meow, meow, meow* {translation: woe is me}]

    Sunday morning after breakfast Gary went to church at an open air place near out hotel. When he returned he and I decided to go out to the Road to Hana. I got sick on the Road to Hana, two hours each way of winding, twisty roads, really not my cup of tea my stomach didn’t agree. Jim wanted to invite me to dinner but that was the last thing on my mind. [Meanwhile back in DC: Mouse is hoping her Daddy gets sick and can’t enjoy himself]

    Monday Gary and I had intended to go up to the top of the volcano but I was reluctant to go to any twisty, turny roads and declined the invitation. Gary did go up the mountain and did some exploring on hs own. It was Gary’s birthday so we had dinner at an Italian restaurant. It was nice. I told everyone that it was his birthday, much to his dismay, so at breakfast he got a cake, at the restaurant and even the ladies who came to do the turn down said happy birthday to him. He made like he wasn’t happy about it but I saw the smile. [Meanwhile back in DC – Mouse came out of hiding to let Mark pet her *purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr*]

    Tuesday afternoon 4 of us took off in the early afternoon to go Ziplining it was so fun and everyone had a great time. Piiholo Ranch Zipline, great team, very safe, very good. There were two other sets of people in our group and one couple got stuck out in the middle of one of the ziplines and was stuck out there for about 20 minutes. Glad it wasn’t us. I would love to do it again and again and again. I managed to get a video of me zipping on the last line and soon I’ll figure out how to upload that here.  Tuesday night Gary, Ana and I had dinner together at the Fish restaurant at the hotel and I went out on a limb and ate fish. Not something I would do willingly. [Meanwhile back in DC – Mouse took advantage of the solitude, finally realizing that her Uncle Gary couldn’t come give her attention and disturb her nap *zzzzzzzzzz*]

    Wednesday I took Gary to the airport as he went off island but technically stayed on Maui, he went to the island of Molokai which is part of Maui. Jim and Ana drove me to Kihei for an AA meeting and then we had dinner at the Pupu Lounge, it was ok. The meeting started and the chair said: this is a speaker meeting. Well apparently Speaker meeting is code for topic/bad day meeting in Maui as that’s what it was. After the lead he picked me to share which I didn’t appreciate – not being familiar with the format of the meeting I felt off kilter but as the topic was “spiritual tools” I talked about how close I felt to my higher power in the morning watching the light join the day. It was mostly downhill from there. [Meanwhile back in DC – Mouse started to eat more and more to ease the sense of loss – *Mmmmmeeeeeeeoooooowwwww*]

    Thursday was mostly a day of sitting by the pool and swimming in it until the afternoon when Jim and I went to pick up Gary at the airport. That evening was the only “required event” for the travelers, we all met at Outback for dinner. The company, toasts, laughter and fellowship was wonderful, the service not so much. Several orders were messed up. But we still had a great time. Afterward we went to Dairy Queen for dessert (I got to pick and I love me a Banana Split Blizzard. [Meanwhile back in DC – Mouse wished her Uncle Gary would come and wake her up from her nap]

    Friday morning at 6:00 a.m. we left the hotel to go snorkeling. *Yawn* We followed a GPS device that didn’t recognize a new road so we were almost late. We left on the boat and headed to the first of two snorkeling areas. The water was cold but the wetsuit top helped to make it seem less so. It was rather choppy (to me) out there and this was my first time and wasn’t really enjoyable for me. I chose not to participate in the second spot and didn’t get to see the turtles but I understand they were very cool and they say the water was less choppy. [Meanwhile back in DC – Mouse wonders if they will ever come home]. The rest of the day I didn’t do much, I ordered room service and watched a movie on the TV (Transformers 2 – not worth it). [Meanwhile back in DC – Mouse considers trusting this Mark person more and maybe that Robert person who’s been here too]

    Saturday, our last day in Maui, I decided to spend most of the day by the pool and did exactly that. I ordered a burger for lunch at the pool and just took it easy. We packed and headed home around 6:00. [Meanwhile back in DC – Mouse came out of hiding for Mark and Robert and was sociable.]

    It was a long, long trip back and I don’t think anyone slept well. We left Maui at 9:00 p.m. and arrived at BWI at 4:15 or so. Mouse was very loud, talkative and happy to see both of us. She wouldn’t stop purring and that night while I attempted to sleep she was, as expected, very needy.

    It was a great vacation. I’m very tan. I highly recommend that if you’ve never been to Hawaii you go at least once, it’s certainly worth it.

  • Makua kane

    Makua kane means Father

    Last year, around this time I heard that my Pa died. I had been scheduled to leave for Cancun on the company retreat the next day and ended up spending a week in Wisconsin instead. Pa probably thought it was funny.

    Since he passed I’ve changed my name to honor him his first name is my middle and I’ve taken his last name as my last. It was the least I could do for the man who gave me so much. Is it a pain in the ass sometimes? yes Was it expensive? yes Was it worth it? most definitely

    I still want to call home to Ma and Pa, I don’t know if it will always be Ma and Pa but it still is today. I try not to slip up when I talk to Ma or Rhonda – I don’t know if it’s painful for them to hear me say “Pa” or think about him. I know I still get a little teary now and then just remembering silly things he did or his stubbornness, curiosity and mannerisms.

    My Pa loved to work with small engines and I always thought he was very careful and “safe” until he stuck his hand in a snowblower and lost part of his finger. It was just the top part of the finger that he lost and he drove himself to the hospital that day, one handed, his other hand tucked neatly under his arm… Now he could make it look like he had his finger buried pretty deeply in his nose with it and he loved to do that..

    I miss you Pa – a lot.

  • The Long Goodbye

    My friend Jim’s mother was diagnosed with cancer this spring and at 85 years old she made a decision not to fight the cancer this time (she had fought cancer before). So the family did as she asked and then proceeded to do the other important things, make extra trips to New Jersey to see her, send out the call for cards to be sent and prayers to be requested. People responded to the call. Last fall when my Pa died Jim’s mom sent me a lovely card that touched my heart and made me cry all over again, I still have it – so when the call went out I participated in the card sending just little notes to keep her spirits up.

    My friend Jim, who I work with every day didn’t or couldn’t really talk about that with me in the office. I got the information I needed (what to tell friends and clients when the time came, what charities and so forth) from his daughter Lisa, a nurse who works in the hospice industry. Lisa received regular updates from the hospice nurse that came to the house and about three and a half weeks ago she made the decision to go up to NJ (from Nashville) full time. I know that Jim appreciated knowing she was there and he got regular updates. As her journey approached Jim and his wife, Ana, headed up to be with is mother during her last days – they were there for over a week with only a brief return to their home down here for more clothes.

    On Friday of last week Dorothy, Dot, or Mom-Mom as she was called, finally left our plane of existence for the kingdom of heaven. Jim and his family planned for the wake and funeral to be on Wednesday and Thursday of this week. Dorothy had specific requests that I believe were followed to the letter.

    My friend Vera and I drove up on Wednesday afternoon and arrived with enough time to spend a few minutes at the family home before heading to the funeral home for the week. There were some last minute items to be taken care of and Lisa was at the church practicing songs for the service the next day.

    There are four children at the moment in the family, all of them great grandchildren to Dorothy. They brought so much life to this event – dancing, laughing, signing. Many a sad tear was turned into a laugh or at least a smile by their antics. I’m glad they were there.

    Jim put up a strong front, but you could see the sadness in his eyes that just stayed there. He knew that his family and friends were all around him, but it’s a hard thing to go through. I remember last fall when Pa died and that nothing really made the pain any easier, I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. I know he’ll get through this, but I also know it’ll be tough.

    The service the next day was at the Catholic Church. Lisa sang powerful songs and was just amazing. David and Jim both gave eulogies and both choked up a bit. The priest had powerful words to say. I saw tears in the eyes of many people around me and felt them run freely down my face. We had the funeral procession to the cemetery where Mark had a nice eulogy as well. Dorothy was buried next to her husband James.

    I can’t express in words how beautiful Lisa sang, nor the pain and loss in Jim’s eyes. But I was honored to be there and witness the love they shared for one another, the loss they all felt and the beauty of how they said goodbye.

  • Ft Lauderedale Trip

    My last trip to the Royal Palms was over two years ago and every day I was there it rained, this time all I had was sunshine warmth and handsome bears… what more could a guy ask for?

    Friday was rather uneventful for me, swam in the pool layed out by the pool and read from my Kindle. I was tired and in bed before 11:00 and I slept in until 8:30 crazy… that is what I love about vacations, doing what I want and usually that equates to nothing. Jim’s mother passed away in the afternoon so I sent out a few notification emails and made a few calls. I received a few calls to for Jim and Ana from friends that were worried about them, it’s nice to know that I’m an emergency contact.

    Saturday I had a Costa Rican for lunch 😉 and that evening I went out to dinner, a meeting and a movie with Michael K to celebrate his AA anniversary. Dinner was at J Alexanders, a nice steak house down there (I think it’s a chain).

    We went to the beginners meeting and it was an interesting format. There were very entertaining moments, one guy who said he was 9 years sober and still restless, irritable and discontented ever day said basically that if you didn’t slip you’re not a real alcoholic, it was precious… poor guy really needs to get a program and some help.

    We went to see Julie and Julia or whatever and it was very cute.

    Sunday was a nice relaxing day, I went for a walk, spent some cash on clothes and headed back to the resort for a quick nap and some afternoon delight.

    I got enough sun and relaxation and made some nice new friends. Then I boarded the plane… lol

    There was a young thin blonde girl right in front of me and she kept getting up and fidgeting (this was even before we left the gate) and I heard the stewardess tell her that if she felt that strongly about it we would go back to the gate… I had a window seat and she had a clastrophic thing going on and she eventually got moved to my row on the aisle. She apparently is very phobic about flying and had forgotten her Xanax that day so was particularly frightened. The cute guy (married, straight, beared bear) next to me and I did our best to distract her and made conversations with her the entire way. She did finally allow me to open my shade when we were landing. She was on the first leg of her journey and I hope she fared better on the second flight.