Most recently Jay spoke at the Metropolitan Community Church in South Austin, TX. Read about it here.
Didn't feel well yesterday so i stayed home. With my flu struggle still in recent memory, i thought listening to my body and spending a day at rest was the smart thing. i'm feeling much better today, though still taking Mucinex just in case. Also i'm day-dreaming about lying on a pristine beach, drinking in the sun along with a margarita.
Received a phone call from my brother on Wednesday reporting that my father had fallen Monday in my parent's living room. He broke his left wrist and shoulder. Due to his age and physical condition they've decided to forgo surgery, which would be routine and unquestioned in someone younger. He'll probably lose some function in his left hand, but won't face the ordeal of recovering from surgery at 79 while also diabetic and living with advancing Parkinson's Disease.
I still remember clearly my childhood view of my father: a happy and robust man, seemingly invincible and never rattled by the obstacles that appeared in his path. i thought then that he'd live forever without changing. Contrast that with the stooped, shuffling, emotionally hurting man trying to live in a body that is increasingly trapping him with tremors and immobility. Neither image appreciates the comprehensive goodness of this man, his deep integrity, his capacity for love; no apperception could.
His mind is not untouched by age and infirmity; he's plagued by confusion when expected to process multiple ideas. For example, when the hospital admissions clerk asked him "What's your height & weight Mr. Smith?" he was unable to answer, looking to my mum for help. "How tall are you, Joe?" Mum asked, and he promptly answered "Five foot nine." "How much do you weigh?" she asked, receiving another immediate response. But answering the two questions when they were put together in one sentence was beyond him. It's as if his brain just short circuits; he can't even form words when it happens. He just sits, struggling to express himself, eyes looking scared as tears stream down his mask-like face.
It's sad. And it's a part of life.
My Mum turned 76 years old this week and is like the Energizer Bunny. At least that's the appearance she makes sure to give out. But i know this must be tiring and hard for her. Not that she'd EVER admit it.
Wes & i will fly back to Pennsylvania in late March/early April for a visit with them. i just wish i could wrap both Dad & Mum in my love and take all the burden of fear and care off of them, like they did for me when i was little. But i can't. And they wouldn't let me if i could. In fact, they'd probably be mortified with embarrassment at the suggestion.
Time to hit the shower. The quotidian responsibilities of life await.
My Dad, Joe Smith, during a break from the machine gun range while in the Army on March 29, 1951.
Amy Sedaris utterly charms me into shilling for Microsoft Office. i'm so ashamed. But the video is fabulous! Bunnies, cupcakes, Amy in a full skirt, lying to customers while managing small critters....
Unfortunately, the scurrying around running a business hits far to close to my real life. Though at my office i'm a blend of Amy's character and Clover at the computer. In the guise of a 44 year old, slightly overweight tie-wearing head-shaved goatee-sporting gay (gay might be redundant after that descriptive string) businessman. Without the full skirt and heels. It's plain front chinos and brogues for me.
You Sent Me Flying:
Flapjack, my Jack Russell Terrier, loved having his 'cousin' over for the extended visit. They played (and played, and played, and played, ad infinitum). Favorite games: Tug-o-war with Flapjack's (now definitely deceased) plush snake, and Remove the stuffing from every floor pillow in the house while strewing it about for Scott or Wes to clean up. Great fun.
Jim was clearly happy to welcome Zad's return home yesterday afternoon. Jim continues to recover well after his two-level spinal fusion. Moving slowly, but walking better than he has in more than two years. Some post-surgery pain, but nothing like the pain he's lived with daily since his first surgery in 2005. God be praised.
In honor of all things canine, i point you, gentle reader, to a post by Yard[D]og. Clearly, in very important ways, dogs are superior to we mere monkeys. At least that's what i suspect.
I'm especially pleased that the past week provided the opportunity for Wes to get to know Zad. They had only spent limited time together before, and Zadkiel is a dog whose full and substantial charm only manifests with continued exposure. Watching the two of them nap together yesterday morning (Zad's head pinning Wes' lap down for a couple of hours) was one of the quiet joys that does my heart good.
Flapjack & Zadkiel:
If you visit Orcinus, be sure to check out Dave's current series, "If conservatives really, really hate being called fascists ...."
Do you ever get the feeling that some truth or new understanding is staring you in the face, but comprehension stays just out of reach? It’s an experience with which I’m getting more and more familiar. It's at moments like these that "Please show me as if i were still a two year old" becomes a common prayer. Perhaps "Please help me to understand" is better.
It's been quite a while since i've posted - busy with work and other obligations, i guess. Oh, and a bout of the nasty influenza strain that's being passed around Albuquerque.
In fact, i was even unable to get to church for the past four Sundays. Twice too sick, once the brakes went out on the truck while i was driving to the 11:15 service, and this past Sunday when a friend called for a ride upon his not-entirely unanticipated discharge from the hospital precisely as i was walking out the door to go to church.
Today i experienced more car trouble; suspension this time. When you live at the end of a mile long dirt road, suspension is essential. Especially if you value the undercarriage of your car. I missed the 7:00am service today because of the automotive slow-down, though i made it to the office early.
Before lunch i headed out on work-related errands, quickly discovering that the vehicular malfunction was much worse. Somehow maneuvering the car crosstown to our preferred service center, i was NOT a happy man. Luckily, the day was bright and crisp, and St. Michael's was a walk of three and a half blocks down the hill. Hoofed it there for the noon service and called Wes to ask him to ride down with Drew and pick me up at 1:00pm.
The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.
Oh, the car? $1400 estimate, and it won't be ready until Friday at the earliest. The truck still doesn't have brakes. But i've two offers of vehicles available to borrow at no cost. And two offers of a ride into town tomorrow, a distance of twenty five miles, one way. And this afternoon unexpectedly free and away from the office.