Story 16Oct2023

I don’t want to do these things today, and I am going slow as some of it can be overwhelming. The waves of tears stayed away until later, as I had practical things to do. I spent the morning on Monday writing a blog. I tried to record how I felt and the moments–the truth of the moment.

Linda, my sister visiting and leaving on Thursday, made coffee as she works in the morning on East Coast Time (minus three hours). I had hot oatmeal for breakfast, and I think I forgot to take my meds (I did take the evening pills). I have still not found my thoughts clear, but I am improving. I am still very robotic in my thinking and movement. I also stagger a bit still; there is no risk of me falling.

It is still the Old Testament, a time to gather stones. I hope to return to blessings from the mountain (i.e., “Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted”) someday. The clock just spun, and the day seemed to disappear (meaning I was running slow like in the days of my chemotherapy during the pandemic when hours were like minutes). After finishing the blog, I dressed, and Linda spent her morning working remotely; she is using my excellent portable monitor (I used it during the pandemic), the Tardis USB old-school hub (A Doctor Who item that makes that Tardis sound when things are plugged into it), and an old-school mouse on a folding table as her makeshift office. Linda, done for the day, we were running late and stopped at McDonald’s for a snack. I had Dad’s fav of two cheeseburgers plus fries. Linda had a burger with no onions. I had ordered it as “an all-onion burger,” which she strongly objected to and was corrected. This is more of the fuzzy thinking and word-switching I am experiencing. It was funny.

Linda reminded me that on Sunday’s blog, I missed an event. On Sunday, while exploring the Reedville Crossing new home area and looking at new homes, we looked at the latest local medical building. When I went to pull out, I turned the wrong way on a one-way. There was no sign to warn you that it was Cornius Pass, a major road, and I was going wrong. Linda was a bit panicked and heard me say as we saw an ambulance headed towards us (giving away that we were going the wrong way): “That was nice that they sent that early.” To put it mildly, Linda was not ready for that much deadpan. I got Air Volvo in a U-turn without issue, and we were okay. Linda recovered.

Returning to the narrative of Monday, I drove safely, and there were no more events. Linda marveled at the imaginative use of lanes by my fellow Oregon drivers. The rain was blowing sideways, and it was a stormy day. Later, the thunderstorm warning stresses Linda’s calm (the emergency broadcast system is used to give weather warnings here, and you never know if it is war–we are in the range of North Korea, earthquakes, or weather events until the message starts). The note in the message that the storms may produce tornados did not reassure Linda.

The puddles were deep, and the Volvo splashed its way to the hummingbird house. Jennifer, the weekday nursing aide, was packing between her usual work. We loaded four or five boxes, one heavy, of Susie’s stuff. Jennifer was getting the TV (Excellent), and the lighted tree went to one of Jennifer’s kids. Jennifer told me that Susie had more clothing there than she realized, and it took a lot of boxes. Oh my. Susie has two closets at the Volvo Cave and 1 1/2 dressers of clothing. It was a fav to buy clothing, and I kept getting her t-shirts. Dondrea is finding a possible place for the clothing.

We loaded the boxes into the cargo hold. Next was the funeral people, something I dreaded. We arrived and sat at a table with Ron, the funeral director. I brought the paperwork I had filled out; he made his pitch and was exceptionally kind. This is not a chain but a locally owned and family-run business.

The paperwork for Susie was still in process, so Ron’s pitch was interrupted a few times. We managed to get the plan to have Susie’s remains cremated completed. Insurance from Global, one of those policies you buy when a child is born, would be handled, and Leta would likely receive a small payout. It was agreed that Susie would leave this world dressed as she exited the hummingbird house. Susie has her black hat, the little bunny stuffed animal she held when she passed, and is dressed in a Halloween shirt and pants. Jennifer and Anne (the night nursing aide and Jennifer’s daughter) dressed Susie. Susie holds one of the roses I brought her. Ron commented that Susie looked “lovely.” It was my last vision of her, and I kissed her before her remains left us. (Sorry, the tides of emotions hit when writing that).

Time ran fast, and soon, it was time to head to Portland. I paid Ron and received a 3% discount by writing a check for the total amount. I had read their price list (even now, I apply attention to details), and they said they would do that and brought the checkbook. One of Ron’s advice was not to remove Susie’s name from the house and other agencies, as this would cost money and do nothing. Just keep the death certificate for that when it can be done in a transaction (i.e. when the house is sold–nothing I plan on doing soon).

The trip to Portland was damp and sluggish but moving. Good Samaritan Hospital, where my CAT scan was today, was partially locked down from a shooting in July. We took the sky bridge and then walked into security with Linda. Oops. They were not unhappy with us for breaching the hospital lockdown, and we told them where the unlocked door was. They will fix that. With all the events and my mind being mostly shaken and stirred, I had not done the pre-paper work on my visit and did not know about the lockdown.

The CAT scan was over before my appointment time. It was pouring rain, and, not using the forbidden but drier skyways, had to get wet to reach Air Volvo. A pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses were on the corner in the blowing rain, and I thanked them for caring enough to be standing in the rain. They appreciated the short chat, but my feet were wet, and the rain was soaking into my coat. I thanked them and hurried away.

Aside: In WW2, the Witnesses refused to do the Nazi Salute, and Hitler himself recommended just shooting all of them–the practicality of killing that many people stumped even the Nazis. Many Witnesses went to the concentration camps. So I love them as they stood with the Jews, political prisoners, and Russian POWs in the camps for their belief that the Nazis did not rate a salute.

We enjoyed the passage through Portland (with the storm warnings) and reached Olympia Provisions in SE. This is a beautiful place, and, being early, we got the bar seats that face the cooks–you are almost in the kitchen. Linda was amazed at the cooking and preparations. We watched the chef train a newish cook to prepare Linda’s meal. A reworking of a schnitzel that used chicken and skipped the breading and had crispy skin instead with pan sauce enriched with local mushroom and German-styled noodles (spaetzle). Linda could not finish it after having almonds and inhouse-made potato chips and dip. The chef explained that this was his take on his grandma’s cooking.

I had beef tartar. It was perfect and bright and light. Dinner was a good distraction, but I often returned in my mind to seeing Susie’s remains dressed for her exit. I miss her and am still not ready to live without her. The world keeps trying to drag me into the details, and I am not prepared to rejoin the world; likely, I never will be.

As we drove back across Portland, the rains stopped, and the sky cleared some. The sunset filled the clouds and sky with light. It was wonderful. I drove us past the Federal Building and the location of the protests. The park is clean, and the city is restoring the elk statue by first building a mound of plants as its new base. The fountain that was its original base is gone; the statue was often called the pissing elk when the fountain broke, which was often. The new base should be an improvement.

Soon, without incident and a lot of splashing, Air Volvo arrived at the Volvo Cave. We de-Volvo-ed, and Linda soon went to bed. I was tired as the emotions were complex on Monday. There were many tears Monday night. I returned to my figure painting. I did some basing of some figures–putting epoxy-like clay on the bases to make them look more natural. I put on gloves, stepped into the garage, and coated, very lightly, Mr. Clean flat clear on some finished figures. I tried not to breathe in the paint.

I read some murder mystery until I started to nod off. I was asleep before 11PM. I need more sleep of late.

I did some other items I have not worked into the text above (which may explain why the clock was turning so fast). I called the insurance companies, and that is how I learned what I needed to do with Global Insurance. I talked to Michelle Nixon, the facility owner who kept Susie safe for more than a year, and discussed the processes of leaving. I spoke to Nike HR and changed my status, and they began the various insurance processes. I paid the bills on Quicken. I put the dishes in the dishwasher. I did what was required.

Thanks for reading.