A Movshow

Sometimes I wish we didn't know about Space and Australia. Sometimes I think it'd be nice if we just didn't know. Maybe then things wouldn't seem so big and impossible, the universe, you know. When you see pictures of Earth from way out in the universe you can really see the insignificance. Even then no matter how big the Universe seems and how small Earth looks someone way down on that planet on one continent in one country in one region in one city on one street in one building in one apartment one person is battling it out with themselves trying to decide between turkey or ham for lunch.

I got a call this morning from my mom, her husband's father who lived with them died this morning around 6:15. It was no surprise really, both of his parents live with them because they've been ill. My mom's husband Buzzy works from home and takes care of them, makes them lunch, gives them medicine whatever they need every single day. This week though Buzzy is in Dallas and has been for the last couple days, he won't return until late this evening. Lately hospice comes and helps takes care of them as his mother has Lou Gehrig's disease and can no longer speak clearly or consume solid food, her throat is closed for business and she must take Ensure through a feeding tube.

He died of a pneumonia. I did not know him very well. He was an old, sometimes funny, sometimes grumpy and sometimes a little out of it, as people that age often are. Nevertheless there was something endearing about him, he was the quintessential old man on his motorized scooter (multiple sclerosis had eroded most of his physical ability), bald, big ears, hearing aids, glasses and Wall St. Journal in lap. He was exactly what you thought of when you said "old man."

His wife layed in bed with him this morning after he died. She hugged him and rubbed his hands. They'd been married over fifty years. She couldn't say goodbye because she cannot speak. Since she can only write notes. She wrote in wobbly letters, "I'm happy, I'm okay, I want to go to."

When Buzzy flies back from Dallas I wonder if he'll look out the window at the ground below at all the lights from all the houses. On a day your father dies it would be hard not to, but it'd also be real sad.