Closer to Farewell

I am sitting here trying to work. It ain't workin'

This next weekend I will be in Camp Nelson. I will be saying goodbye.

I don't want to.

I have found a nice, dry place to ignore the pain and the loneliness. I go to work, I talk to my daughter, I sing, I take care of my dogs and my husband. I have a "usual" life.

I can pretend that Dan is just gone for awhile. I don't actually say that to myself. I know the thought is silly. I know he isn't in his truck where there is no cell phone service. But I sorta, kinda pretend that is the case. I just don't let my brain say it.

It is nice and dry here. There is nothing spectacular to tell Dan, nothing out of the ordinary to share with him. So I don't need to call. I don't need to hear his voice. I don't have to think about it. I don't have to feel anything.

LaLaLaLaLaLaLaLaLaLaLa..............

Somehow I think that arriving at Camp Nelson will bring rain. Big, huge drops of rain to my dry place. I think I will have to listen to the voice in my head that says "you CAN'T call, you CAN'T hear his voice."

And I don't want to go there.

I want to go to Camp Nelson and see him there. I want to know that this was all a big joke of some kind. I want to know that he is still part of this planet in a very concrete way.

This is gonna be very, very hard.

When you Least Expect It

I have been going about my days "as usual". I think about Dan and I have written about him. We are still planning the Farewell at Camp Nelson on Memorial Day.

Melodie and I keep working. We don't talk about Dan much. Even though he is always there. We discuss work or the next thing we plan to do. It is back to "normal".

Then Melodie sends me this link. And I must think, again and again, about what I choose and what Dan chose.

http://www.ted.com/talks/jill_bolte_taylor_s_powerful_stroke_of_insight.html

Punny How that Works

Dan's favorite form of humor--the almighty pun.

He could and would make a pun out of about anything. And it drove Melodie crazy. She rarely stoops to a pun but when she does it is a zinger.

When Melodie first met Jed and introduced me to him the man made a pun joke. Melodie groaned and I remarked that we needed Dan present. When the two men finally met, it was....well, it was groansome.

Dan and I and Jed and Dan would have whole conversations in pun. It might start with the word corn and end with the word airplane. And believe me there was a long, long conversation in between.

So imagine my surprise when I read the following NPR story about a National Pun Championship! If we had only known, we would have sent Dan.

http://www.npr.org/2011/05/15/136253845/not-jest-for-pun-a-surprising-history-of-wordplay?sc=emaf

Have a great time with this and think of Dan. He is somewhere laughing about the whole thing.

Back to the Ocean

Driving back home tonight from an evening with the incarcerated. Talking to my clients on a Sunday evening gives them a feeling that they are not forgotten.

I can see how they would feel that way. As I waited to be released from the attorney room (yes, they lock us in there) I had a view of a locked metal door with a metal flap on it. There was a towel rolled up at the base of the door. It was an isolation cell. No natural light. No moving air. The towel is to block both. No control over anything. The jailers control the light, the water in the sink and the toilet. No stimulation whatsoever.

I knew that there was a human in that room.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

I left feeling angry and frustrated and wondering why I do this (again)

And as I got to the "really nasty part of that feeling sorry for myself in this position" thing, I came around the corner that gave me a view of the Pacific Ocean at Pismo Beach.

It was almost 8 o'clock and the sun was down. But the light gave the ocean a teal green hue that sparkled like the London Topaz that I wore on my left ring finger. And I thought of Dan.

And I thought of the Cheese Ball (see earlier posts) and the fact that going out on Sunday made somebody feel better and that Dan always encouraged me to do that.

And then he would have a cup of tea ready for me at the end of his road and we would watch the Ocean. The Great Pacific Ocean.

And we would be reminded that we are very, very tiny.

Jed

Dan really liked Melodie's husband, Jed. He is smart, quick with a pun, loves Melodie to death (an expression only, thank you), knows his way around a computer and other geeky stuff, AND he can sing.

One thing that Jed likes to do but that Melodie hates is hiking. I really like hiking but I am, well, I ain't a spring chicken anymore. Dan loved just walking around. You couldn't call it hiking because he had a stride that was three times that of anyone else so hiking for us was walking for him.

But I digress.

Today Jed and I went hiking/walking in the Montana de Oro park near Morro Bay. For those of you who have no idea what that means, here is a representative picture of the area.

On the trail above the Pacific Ocean, Montana de Oro, 2011

It was gorgeous! And at 8 in the morning it was chilly and free of other people.

We kept commenting on how amazing the landscapes and seascapes were as we passed. We often stopped to take pictures and I even got one of Jed.

Jed, Montana de Oro, 2011

Dan often mentioned his awe of the power of the ocean. As we sat at the end of his street and drank tea at the end of the day, we witnessed the erosion to the cliffs in Pismo. But it was even more pronounced in Montana de Oro.

Montana de Oro, 2011

This picture shows the ocean rising into an area where there is a cavernous area behind the large rock area. All the edges were clearly eroded away by water. It was amazing.

Both Jed and I wished Dan could have seen it.

Pissed Off, Again

I haven't written here in a few days and I couldn't figure out why I couldn't put words to paper (so to speak)

I had time. I was moving the office but I sat at my computer at night. My mind was generally a blank and I just let it be.

Then tonight, I am playing some silly game and I started to cry. Tears just started down my face.

No foreplay, just tears.

Now where in HELL did this come from- says my silly brain.

And then it comes.

I AM PISSED.

I am pissed at my parents for not taking better care of Dan when he was a kid. (Revisionist history is in full swing)

I am pissed at my other brother for not doing something that relates to Dan (Imaginary history is running a close second)

I am pissed at my self for not noticing that he wasn't feeling well. (Revisionist and Imaginary combining into a really nasty dose of self-pity)

And after I get through that whole thought process and analysis, it comes down to one simple thing. One very, very simple thing.

I miss my brother. And that pisses me off. And when I get this pissed, I cry.

Mama Bear

Dan always laughed at how protective I could get about my daughter and about him. Someone wants to hurt my family I turn into the proverbial Mama Bear.

Melodie was always embarrassed if I showed up at her school to talk to a teacher or a principal. They were in for it about something that was going on with her. One time, and Dan laughed really hard about this one, a teacher accused Melodie of plagiarism because a seventh grader didn't know the words that she used in her term paper.

I cam unglued. I took my daughter's IQ scores (not that they meant anything to me-but I knew that they would to this teacher) and some of our personal library that Melodie regularly read. I sat in the principal's office and read off the recommendations of her former teachers. Then I asked her if she had read any of the books that I had brought along. The teacher slunk out of the room. The principal was red faced.

Melodie was transferred to an AP class. Where she should have been.

I tell you all of this because there were times, in the last year of Dan's life, when I felt the same way about him. There were people who did not have his best interests at heart and I was willing to take them on. Head on.

He got in my way. He didn't want me to. So I didn't. I seethed and fretted. But I shut my mouth.

God is that hard for an attorney. Much less a Mama Bear!

I am reminded of this today as we set up the new office. I want my child safe. And her office is open.

Melodie and Jeff Buckingham

So, out comes the landlady  and blinds are going into the office.

It's nice to know I still have it!