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I put off writing this blog until Thursday morning. Linda is on her way home now, and the fog will leave soon for a perfect day. Wednesday was the first day when I felt the changes starting. We did not have any more things to do at the hummingbird house. I could feel the hole in my life on Wednesday; before, it was just pain. That is not to say there were no tears, but the waves of loss have receded some.

Returning to Wednesday, I had trouble sleeping–I woke at 4:30ish and couldn’t sleep for a few hours and then slipped back into a deep sleep. I started at about 8:30. Linda was working East Coast Time, so she had made coffee. She reminded me that I could make cinnamon rolls. I finished a cup of coffee, jumped into the shower,  and dressed. Next, I drove to Safeway and got some milk, eggs, and flowers. I returned and began the multiple-hour project to make the best puffy rolls. The main trick is to cook some flour in milk and add it to the dough to make a soft bread and to use sharp cinnamon from Vietnam. My yeast is dated, and it rose slowly. I will get a replacement for it soon.

We placed four rolls in a plastic bag (if only I had done that with the ones at the house–ants raided them) and got in Air Volvo. Next, went into Aloha in Air Volvo and soon arrived at the strip mall with The 649 and my usual Mexican place, Tapatio: Mexican Restaurant. We had too much food and a beer for lunch.

Next, we headed to Tigard. Today’s trip to the hummingbird house was social–there was nothing for us to get or see there, and we did not visit what was once Susie’s room. Jennifer and Louis (who live in the family at the house and nursing aides) were thrilled to see us, and we shared flowers and cinnamon rolls. We chatted as friends and folks who miss Susie. Jennifer asked after Leta (Susie’s mother), as she was missing her too. Linda and I spent about half an hour talking with our friends at hummingbird house. I will return on Saturday to see Vida, one of the resident’s spouses I have befriended, and Anassa, the weekend nursing aide.

After that, I stopped by the recently renamed Guardian Games gaming store. Linda followed along. The board game Lost Ruins of Arnak had a new add-on that looked great–I bought that ($29), and a new Oz role-playing game (RPG) book for Dungeons and Dragons 5E (5E) was recently published (under $40, so I got that too). I read Oz after Air Volvo got us back to the Volvo Cave. While it is a fantastic book that translates all of the Oz books into an RPG, it contains no true 5E-styled adventures, just random quests from supplied tables. This makes it more of a curiosity than something usable. I would have to use it to write a plan and formal adventure. If you contrast this to the Lord of the Rings (LOTR) 5E books, they have a huge adventure where you can play hobbits in the shire doing tasks for Bilbo in the times before the War of the Ring. So, I will follow up in six months and see if there is anything out there in the future. A little Oz could be fun, but I don’t want to write it. A few years ago, I reworked a LOTR adventure and played it–I thought it an excellent experience, but the players found LOTR a bit dark (it is).

I grew tired, and my thinking got mixed up. I am feeling disassociated: I still feel like I am in a sad dream. I napped. Charlotte J brought over a meal for us, a church tradition. We had some meatloaf, potato slices in a cheese sauce, and green beans. A pie in the frig was cooling, too. Linda packed and went to bed early. I did the laundry and dishes, then went into the garage and organized some of the furniture therein. Matt V is coming over on Thursday to help re-organize the office. I purchased some used furniture just before the pandemic and have waited through all these events to get used.

I will now think about my favorite construction guy to fix and change some stuff for the house. That will follow as I move forward with all the changes now. I never could plan my life after Susie’s passing.

I watched some old Doctor Who shows as I did the laundry and cleaned up. I went to bed and started a new book, returning to my Kindle and reading the newly released A Fire Born of Exile: A Xuya Universe Romance (Xuya Universe Romances). This is another space opera book. I tried to sleep but had trouble sleeping again.

Thanks for reading.

If you want an excellent Adult Care facility, please consider Allegiance Senior Care LLC, 9925 SW 82nd. Ave. Portland (Tigard), OR 97223; phone (503) 246-4116.

We are just back from Portland. I wanted to try out the Brazil place while Linda is here, a chain restaurant, but still a fav: Fogo de Chão. This is the less formal and slightly less efficient but extra friendly Portland, come as you are, version. The food was endless, served by the slice on a shaft, some excellent and others good–none boring. I got a text from a friend from work in Brazil, and I ordered the recommended drink, sweat, and good: caipirinha. Linda had not done the Brazil steak experience and soon drowned in meat and the salad bar. The wine was good, too; we picked a Malbac. Linda loved it all.

We enjoyed an excellent dinner, and the folks next to us kept saying no more, then saw what was offered and called it over. It’s fun to watch. We did not do dessert or the shrimp cocktail–too much! It is an excellent time and a good distraction. Recommended, but be hungry and bring friends.

Before this, we were at the house; we unloaded Air Volvo and placed the boxes of Susie’s stuff in the house to be unpacked later. I spoke to Barb, Susie’s sister, and she suggested we hold back the t-shirts and other shirts as folks turn them into a quilt or pillowcases. We had stopped by the hummingbird house and picked up the last items. I also reset the Alexa and let Jennifer have that. I don’t need that one for the house. I was surprised to learn, as we were headed in (I called ahead), that apparently, I had purchased the bed and wheelchair–that explains the high rent cost and why I was not paying now (I thought I had reached some insurance max, not that I bought them). How bizarre.

I had forgotten about the rocking chair, and we managed to squeeze that in with the boxes and the bookshelf Barb bought for Susie. I put the wheelchair carefully over the stuff. Susie’s room is now ready for some paint and the next person. We wish them well; it is excellent care, and I am happy to pass the room to the next person.

Michelle Nixon found a home for the bed, excellent. That was not fitting in Air Volvo!

We delivered the wheelchair to Goodwill, and last we saw, the folks were playing with it, pushing each other in it as Goodwill. A happy new beginning for it. Good vibes, I think.

Before this, we were at the house, and I connected with the insurance and printed out all the documents. I hand-filled out a printed copy. I had opened a bank account in my trading account in my name and social security number. Our usual checking account is in Susie’s name and SSN. This was a marriage agreement; all the money would be in Susie’s name. But for payments to me from independent entities, like insurance companies, the name and SSN must match–thus, I have a Morgan Stanley bank account. I had to use that for this.

I called the funeral home, Ron, at Threadgill’s in Beaverton. I gave the final accent to Susie’s last trip. Ron asked about my tests. I forgot we had mentioned it, and he was relieved to hear that the cancer scan was negative. Susie’s ashes will be returned to me in the future. We have no plans yet for them.

I connected, by email, with John Nilsen on future plans. He believes he could do some concerts as a celebration for Susie. He is booked mostly until Feb 2024, but that works for us. I will work with the church folks and pastors to set dates and a plan. We hope to do a concert at First UMC in Beaverton and one at Grace UMC Lansing. More to follow, but do not expect you have to suddenly plan for a memorial for Susie.

Linda made me a bagel, missing the NYC in the freezer and instead finding a bagel-like product there, but it was still kind. I ate that, with cream cheese, while writing the blog this morning. Linda also made me lunch by reheating the pasta from the previous dinner out. It was still excellent.

Nike sent flowers to the house. Very kind.

I assembled the insurance papers and a card for Michelle Nixon and her staff.

We stopped by the post office and sent the papers cheaply, under $2. The first inexpensive thing! We must wait for the death certificate (the long version) before completing the process. That will take a month. So, there’s no rush.

 

That is my lovely bride, ready for the next adventure in her black hat, favorite coat, and the luggage behind her at the airport back in 2006 @ PDX. Our first trip to Las Vegas for a computer conference.

Thanks for reading!

 

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.

 

This is Monday morning, and Sunday is primarily a blur and will be hard to describe. My mind is shaken, not stirred, and thoughts and memories are more like bubbles in champagne–but more ephemera than effervescent. Last night, I got lost in the dark in the bedroom but was able to use Alexa to turn on a light–that used to happen to Susie. I still pick the wrong words, and while the colors have returned to the world, I seem to be in a dream. The tides of sadness come and overwhelm, then recede only to return again. Because Susie was at the hummingbird house for more than a year and six months in various hospitals and facilities, I do not miss Susie at the house (the Volvo Cave). I often find myself thinking I need to see Susie at the hummingbird house, and then it comes crashing down on me that she is not here anymore, and I will not hear her speak again, except in my dreams.

The morning, now a distant blur, started with me getting started at 8ish and warming up some bagels. I made a pot of coffee. Linda brought me a bagel, an NYC one from Zabar’s, while I wrote the blog. I published it after a few hours of work.

Next, I decided to clear some of Susie’s room at the hummingbird house. The funeral director I met on the day of Susie’s passing from Treadgill’s in Beaverton said there was no reason to hurry, and I decided to keep to that advice.

Others feel they must control and bring order; I understand that belief and demand. It is not me. I feel like the journey (यात्रा) I have been on that lasted two to three years has now come to an end. I am at the docks, and the baggage is being unloaded. I will have to travel to my next place, and that first step will start a new journey, and I am tired and worn. I see myself at the docks, in my mind, resting at a sushi bar (very fresh at the docks) and enjoying a light meal with hot tea. I am not ready to start the next journey. So forgive me if the arrangements and process are slow. I am on the docks and unprepared to take control and start with that first step.

Returning to the narrative, after getting a shower and dressing, we boarded Air Volvo; I unloaded the games from the cargo hold and headed to Beaverton on our way, indirectly, to the hummingbird house. Is a damp, overcast day, but just mist–almost a sunny day for the Pacific Northwest (PNW) in the fall-winter-spring season (while the people of the PNW often chafe when forced into binary gender–our weather is rains or not rains, binary). Our color is gray, but the greens are bright, and roses still dot everywhere, including mine. Heavy with water, the leaves are yellow and red but still clinging to the trees. Soon, we will be buried in wet and thick leaves–our annual plague of drain-choking and lawn-smothering leaves. It is not a joy, as it is in other places, to rake the leaves (and they will not burn)–here, the leaves are heavy and wet.

We arrive at Tom’s Pancake House with no incidents and enjoy a fine repast of standard breakfast items. Linda has French Toast with me selecting homemade corn beef hash. Linda is not a fan of the stuff but is surprised by the high-quality product I enjoy. The PNW food places that survived COVID-19 have picked up their quality (and prices). It was an excellent breakfast, and we reboarded Air Volvo.

Next, we arrived without incident at the hummingbird house. Susie is not there, but we left the room unchanged, and you still can feel her memory resting in the room, but it is now just a memory. Susie is not there. Tears fill our eyes. I cannot take down the room surface items, just one more day, and we instead unload the medical items, blankets, and other paperwork items on drawers. I later called Dondrea to see if we have a place that our church knows or supports that could use Susie’s vast supply of clothing and coats. Dondrea will check and get back to me. Again, there is no real need to rush; it is not time for that journey–just one more day, please.

Leaving the room intact, we have the Volvo nearly full. We unload the blankets and other items and leave the medical items. I collect the other various medical items and, after some twisting, get them into the cargo hold. They are delivered to Goodwill, and the commode is rejected, but the rest is received, including the considerable shower bench. Linda dissembles the commode and recycles the metal bits, and we toss the rest in the trash container. We are left with one significant metal bit that does not fit in my containers, but we will grab some computer gear and send it to the local recycling place on Monday.

I have a wooden crate that needs to be made into smaller pieces, and Linda gets to pound it to get it to disassemble. She enjoys that. I contacted Jennifer, the weekday nursing aid, and she will work with the Allegiance team to pack the room.

I rest a bit as I tire easily. The emotions and the dissociation feeling were draining. I do not nap, but I read, try to find my way, and paint some figures. I never moved the painting stuff to my office as it is a mess, and I never took the time to better organize it. That time will come now. So I am painting between messes, but it is relaxing. It has always been an escape to paint and build models. You can’t worry or think or plan with a brush in your hand or a piece being glued.

Still, on East Coast Time, Linda was hungry, and I headed towards local food–an old American-Italian place, Nonna Emilia Ristorante Italiano. Linda has the sausage with peppers, and I do the gnocchi (having meated out last dinner). It was a nice dinner, and I tasted this one.

There was a short video, thank you, Steve H, for posting it, of Leslie Nielsen doing a crazy Police Academy routine, and it made me laugh hard. Much of the colors appeared again in the world. Here.

I painted some more and rested. Linda went to bed early as she will be working here on EDT. I called David S after an invitation, and we just chatted. A good distraction. I went to bed late and slept until 8AM.

Thanks for reading.

Aside: Our experience at the facility could not have been better. If you wish to know where and what for other loved ones who need a good and safe place. Please consider Allegiance Senior Care LLC, 9925 SW 82nd. Ave. Portland (Tigard), OR 97223; phone (503) 246-4116.

The day after Susie’s passing was blunted and strange for me. Some colors have left the world, and my mind and body are out of sync. There is a dreamy quality, too, like a mist or play inside a play. The days go on forever and also go by fast.

I made coffee in the French Press and then made more in the coffee pot as I had company; Linda, my sister, is here. It is liberal coffee, of course, but today it was just coffee–the playfulness of “liberal coffee” is gone. I grab two NYC bagels, my stash has not run out (thanks, Joyce!), microwave them, and leave one for Linda to toast when she is ready. I have an apple and carry breakfast to the in-home office. I am not prepared; I will never be ready.

I write the blog and tell the tear-stained tale of Susie’s last moments with us there. With the composing, I started living a new life without Susie being part of my day. It is not difficult as I want to tell this story; it is essential, almost holy.

Remember the morning I thought about what to say while making breakfast and rising. Unlike most of these blogs, I must admit that yesterday’s story was planned as it would be impossible to write it in a stream-of-consciousness style with my emotions shaken, not stirred. As usual, some of the streaming is included but requires careful reworking. It took hours to write it.

Next, I collect various items from Susie’s life in the house, just a few, as I have not made much of a plan for this. I put them in Air Volvo’s cargo hold. I shower, dress, and chat with Linda for a while. We boarded Air Volvo with me at the helm and Linda in the co-pilot seat. She prevents me from connecting with a black Mercedes SUV that slides up to the blind spot even with my blinker on; an unpleasant unsuccessful lane change is avoided. Linda also reminds me to head to Safeway, where I get flowers. One is white roses and lilies for the hummingbird house; another, for Anassa to take home, is sunflowers (Anassa’s fav). I cross Beaverton in light traffic and bump the curb on Allen. It is tricky, and unless you pay close attention, you will help darken the curb with rubber where everyone else hit it.

Air Volvo, without losing any paint, arrives at the hummingbird house. Anassa is the weekend nursing aide, and she was relieved when she came to find Susie’s room was still primarily unchanged (just carefully cleaned last night). She spent some time there, as we do. We put the pictures and framed items on the bed. Jennifer appears, and we share some of the items with her. I leave them there for others to find. I call Leta and Barb, Susie’s mother and sister, respectively, from Susie’s room–one more time while it is still like this–Susie’s room.

It is still Susie’s room today, and her life still seems there. It feels like any moment, she will be back. We leave, a few more tears, as I cannot go yet. The emotions rush in like a sudden tide, and I nearly buckle under the waves of sadness and loss. I find my mental footing and recover. We say our goodbyes to Anassa and board Air Volvo.

Missing that Mercedes as described, we reach The 649 and have appetizers for a late lunch. Linda has cider and me a red ale. We are both tired, and I see the world in black and white. The food, while good, barely registers. Time to rest.

We did tour Hillsboro West, and the new houses come up everywhere. The wheat fields are now houses, and I admire the buildings and suspect they have everything modern and fantastic. I could afford one at about $500K if I sold the Volvo Cave, but then I would give up my rose and my nice backyard. Thus, it is tempting, but I think I will stay in the old house.

A painted rose that would fit Alice’s story.

Air Volvo gets us back, and I sleep. I am up before Linda and put around the house. I read my new books, acquired at The H.P.Lovecraft Film Festival last weekend (how can it only be a week ago?!), The Scum of the Earth. It makes me laugh, and some of the colors are back.

Linda and I tried for B.J. Brewhouse for dinner; the nap and break helped–but food would be good, but the waitlist, I suspect, was so long that it was extra-dimensional. The Road House becomes the choice, and after a short time at the bar, we get to enjoy the slow service and just above-OK food McMenamins are famous for (while keeping their prices high)–lucky they make beer I like. Forty minutes later, our food appeared. I had their steak, and it was something I could have made. But still, a heavy dose of protein fits the bill, and I was feeling better (too many carbs these last few days). More colors return. Coffee, shocking to Linda that I would drink it so late (I am IT and a computer programmer, and my blood likely has small coffee beans floating in it), is my next drink choice. I never drink water after beer.

Air Volvo returned us to the Volvo Cave without incidents or close calls; better. Cornelius Pass road construction is mostly finished, and the renewed and extended five lanes are excellent. Once at the house, Linda went to bed. She is still enjoying East Coast Time, and I stayed up reading and filling out the Death Certificate forms for Susie.

It is time to pick up things; as the famous writer wrote, there is a time for everything.

Thanks for reading.

A song for Saturday: Turn, Turn.