It's hard to write with people around and the TV blaring, but writing I am nonetheless. It's the end of this year. This year of 2007. It started out kind of shitty and just went down hill from there in many ways. It also started out kind of shitty and went uphill too.

The good stuff that started out shitty was that I got sick and was near death and I finally got serious and got healthy. Got my blood sugar down to something normal and took away my risk of dying from diabetes related shit. I quit smoking for several months but started back up when some shit happened to Sue that was majorly stressful. I am waiting to get the flu again like last time and quit again. I lost 65 pounds in 07. I had already lost about 45 or 50 pounds to begin with, so by the time October rolled around, I had lost a total of 115 pounds in 18 months.

I also managed to get my hernia repaired, which has been a double edged sword, both good and bad, but mostly very good. I also found an anti-aging doctor in the area who put me on bio-identical hormones and just wrote me my first script for HGH. I'll be starting on that in a few weeks. Wish me luck.

The bad shit was that I lost my best friend, business partner, the person I loved more than life it's self and would have died for to defend and help, Sue got stabbed in the back by a psycho fuck Nazi Christian which cost us thousands of dollars, my cousin Suzie died, and then the next week Marty died. Amazingly I continued to lose weight despite all the stress going on this year, up until Marty got sick and we started eating where ever while having to deal with having to go back and forth to the hospital for those 5 weeks. I also slowed down because of the recovery phase of the surgery. In fact, I gained 9 pounds back, which honestly sucks in a way. I have learned the hard way that I just can't eat out or eat on the run, stuffing my face with what ever I can find in the kitchen that is quick and easy. I have to eat the way my body needs me to eat or I will gain weight. One thing I can say that is positive is that I thought I had gained 30 pounds because that is what it felt like to me. A quick trip to the doctor this week confirmed that I had indeed only gained 9 pounds since my last visit 7 weeks before. So I am good with that, at least it was only 9 pounds. It could have been my worst fear and really been 30 pounds.

We are sitting here in the living room watching TV tonight on Marty's new furniture. He just bought it when he moved here in October. It's so new that the love seat still had the tags on it. We packed up Marty and put his life in boxes, then moved it all here to go through at a later date. Marty in a box. That's not a joke, that's an observation of the saddest magnitude. The more you go through what was left of his world, the more you see what a great man he really was. Yesterday, as I was locking up his apartment, after the last stitch of furniture was out of there and everyone was loading up the truck, I paused for a moment. I could feel him there all around me, my heart was heavy and I felt so sad, in such mourning for all that has transpired in the last 7 weeks. It was one of the hardest things I ever did, shutting that door and walking away from there for the last time. It felt like I was shutting the door on Marty forever, like I was walking away from him and all that he was.

There are no words right now to describe the grief in this home. I can't even begin to be able to grasp what Sue is going through. If I hurt this bad, how much deeper is the pain in her heart? I don't want to know from first had experience and yet, I know that my time is coming too. I luckily have siblings, so I won't have to go through this alone, I hope. Dad is MIA right now, no one has heard from him since before Thanksgiving. He did not send his regular Christmas card with small gift inside this year to any of us kids. I have been so snowed under with dealing with Marty that I haven't had the time to deal with what has happened to Dad. I wrote my brother a letter asking him what he thinks we should do, but even he hasn't responded. So now I am at a loss, Dad is in Las Vegas, I am sitting here broke in Arkansas from burying Marty in Florida.

Anyway, I don't usually reflect much when a new year rolls around on the Gregorian calendar. Time and space is an illusion anyway, but this year, the big lessons I have been presented with started this very day, this very night in 2006. It seems like a thousand years ago that New Years Eve last year. And I guess in my heart it is, a million light years away from where I am now in my life. My heart is heavy with intense grief right now, but I know these are just lessons that I am learning from and will grow from as I assimilate all that has transpired in this last year.

All in all, life is good enough, I just wish that I didn't feel such grief right now. I wish that Marty hadn't left us. I wish I knew how to change the events of these last few months and make it all come out differently. But I can't, I can do nothing but grieve and heal now, and do what I need to do to help Sue through her grief and come into a healing of her own in time. Like Curtis said, be her rock, as I always am.

Happy New Year everyone. May the wind be at your back and the road rise to meet you. May you be blessed always in all that you put your hand to.....

Love,

J

We got home Sunday night. Physically weary and heavy with grief.

I have never been one of the ones having to make funeral decisions before. That was a new experience I never want to have to do again. I learned that funeral homes routinely fuck over the bereaved every chance they get. I learned this is standard industry practice, not from them, I just experienced them doing what apparently funeral homes do everyday to millions of mourning families. I actually learned this from a friend who told me that is what 99% of all funeral homes do to everyone. I won't get into all the particulars here, but suffice to say, we were fucked over pretty bad.

I have decided, after this new learning experience, exactly what I am going to do when I go to buy my prepaid cremation services. I am signing nothing contractually until the exact verbiage I want to see in the contract is in there. If Marty knew what these bastards had done to us, he would be suing their asses from here to eternity. I personally do not want my family to have to worry about having to sue anyone for being bastards to them while they are in mourning.

So here's the deal, no hidden fees the family has no idea is going to come up at the last minute. No extra charges of any kind that I didn't pay for up front with my prepaid package. If they throw anything at my family that is an extra charge, they will be in breach of contract and it will automatically generate a law suit against them from my estate.

I am not sure yet if this whole experience has changed my perspective on life. It sure has made me angry and bitter for the moment though. From the doctors and the hospitals to the Meadows, to the funeral home, all of this has been a nightmare. Not something I am going to forget about any time in this lifetime anyway.

So it's Christmas, we had no money left for Christmas after the fuck over from the Meadows and the funeral home, so we faked it with whatever we could scrape together at the last moment on Christmas Eve. Thankfully we had bought all of Kaitlyn's gifts before all this shit came down on us. What we didn't get before Marty died, we bought in Florida. Barb came through on lots of extra stuff for Kaitlyn, that was a god send that fluffed the tree for us. What we hadn't done is buy presents for us adults. So we literally faked presents until such time as we have money to buy us all the things we requested. I had managed to get Sue two of the things she asked for before this all happened, and they were nice things. But they were small and certainly not all she had asked for either.

I am laughing inside because I had sincerely thought that this year I was actually going to have all my Christmas gift shopping done before Christmas. I was so close too. I ordered almost everything online early and it all arrived by the beginning of December. I actually only had another $100 or so at Walmart to finish off Sue and then another hundred or so to finish off Glen. But things began to take a nose dive the first week of December and then just went from bad to worse. That was the end of having an ordinary Christmas for us. It didn't get ruined, but all this certainly put a damper on everything.

This morning was bitter sweet for me. Watching K open her presents made everything happier. She was excitedly stoked by everything she got. Glen and Sue loved their presents, what little they had from me. I loved what I got from them. I am easy to buy for, just buy me practical presents I can use and you will make me happy. What was missing was Marty sharing his first Christmas in Arkansas with us. But we also missed getting to have him here to light the Menorah too. Lighting the Menorah at the hospital wasn't the same thing as having it at home and playing games and having a feast with him.

Ok, I am going to rest a little. We are off to the Shaws for Christmas with them later this afternoon. I need to rest now because Sue and I were up until almost 3 am last night. I am too old for that kind of late night shit and then getting up at the crack of dawn anymore.

Hope your Christmas was sweet.

 

 

This probably is the last entry until after we return from Ft. Lauderdale. We are bringing the laptop, but that does not mean we will be able to get online or access Sue's favorite sites.

We are leaving tomorrow when ever I get everything together enough to actually leave. The first order of the day to get a loan from the bank to make sure we can survive this trip financially. Luckily they said yes and I need only take a title to one of the vehicles to secure it for them. So much left to pull together, but I will get it all done.

I made a list so that I wouldn't forget the important things. Fran's ring being the most important one of all. That's a story for another day though. Hoping that Fran understands the love that has gone into the creation of the ring we are giving her from Marty. Hoping she understands that we don't give a rat's behind about the money it may be worth. Hoping she knows that this is about his love for her and the deep heartfelt desire we have to honor that love with this ring. This final gift to her from him. Hoping she knows that even though he is gone from us all that she is still Grandma Fran forever to us. She is still a member of this family forever.

Showing a great man, love, honor and respect. Remembering all that he was. The little boy that never really rode a bicycle but once and failed miserably that one time. Who was really a geek. I love that geekiness by the way. One of the endearing things about him.

There's a picture of Marty standing with a group of people who look like your average office workers from the mid-70s. They are standing around some sort of collating machine. Marty told me that the reason he is in the picture is because they needed an executive looking person for the picture and grabbed him and shoved him in the picture.  He thought that was a hoot. There's another picture of him as a small boy standing there with that same grin, looking directly into the camera. He told me that was taken somewhere out in the country. Somebody's farm or something. Some relative, his family going there in the summer time when he was a child.

When he was an older boy and all through his teen years, he ran dentures for his father. His dad made dentures and it was Marty's job to deliver the finished product back to the dentist's offices there in Brooklyn. He was proud that his dad trusted him with that job. He however, never wanted to become a denture maker himself.

We had one real musical genre in common. Dixieland Jazz. Sue says I get to inherit his collection. I told her I might love Dixieland Jazz, but not as much as Marty did. Not enough to want to inherit his collection.

Marty was a quiet guy at home. He read a lot. I get to pick and chose from his collection all that we will not donate to charity.

We have videos of Marty with K in the pool at our home in Umatilla. We have videos of Marty rocking K in her rocker singing a little ditty to her. It will be hard watching those videos again. K as a baby, smiling up at Grandpa as he played with her, never knowing that if not for him she would not exist. Remember that trip to Arkansas for Sue to meet me? He did that. He made Sue's move from New York possible too. Kaitlyn would not be alive as the Kaitlyn we know today if not for her grandfather. Someday she will comprehend all he did for her. Someday when she is a grown up and understands life better.

Sue called Marty Poppy when she was a child. Poppy used to go off on business trips all the time. He would always bring her something special home. She love her Poppy and he loved her. Daddy's little girl. His most precious child.

Sue was adopted. A few years after Evie died, Marty helped her search for her birth parents, a way to help her understand herself better. After she found them and over the years, as she got to know them better, she thanked Marty over and over again, profusely, for having saved her from them. If you knew them, you would know why she thanks Mom and Dad for saving her from them. Let me put it this way, Marty and Evie gave her a life 10,000 times better than the one she would have experienced had she grown up with her birth family.

I have to find sleep now. I have to sleep as late as I can so that I can drive for as long as possible tomorrow.

Goodnight Poppy, I love you.....

I told Sue today that we need to go pick Fran up and take her with us to the funeral home Thursday morning to talk with them there about Marty's funeral. So she invited her this evening to come along with us to make the arrangements or whatever it is that we are doing with them this coming Thursday.

For those of you who do not know the story of Fran and Marty, let me do a brief synopsis. Marty met Fran right after he moved in to Merrill Gardens in Tamarac. Fran was a wall flower who pretty much stuck to herself and was very withdrawn from everyone else. When Marty met her, that was the end of those lonely days for her. Marty was a geriatric party animal in his own way. Marty was Mister Outgoing Everybody Loves Him Guy in a social setting. Remember that big mischievous grin I was telling you about? It was irresistible to everyone. His exuberance for life was infectious to others. So Fran's being with him began to bring her out of her shell.

Time passed, they fell in love. Unfortunately for them, they would both have lost much of their incomes if they married. That happens a lot to retired folk living on pensions and SS. So they remained living in their own little apartments and became permanently engaged. What that meant was that Fran was left in the position of never having a real legal status if Marty should die. She was left with being the perpetual fiance. What it did was leave her no legal rights whatsoever. No legal right to have any say over anything about Marty ever, especially in death. What it did was make her a non-person in the eyes of the world when it came to anything to do with Marty. Like she didn't exist at all despite the fact she was his great love whom he adored with all of his being. A non-person, invisible to the legal world of Marty. Left out of everything despite all she was to him and he to her.

Which brings me to me and my life story. That is how I always feel. A non-person who cannot legally marry the person I love, ever. A legal ghost. A non-entity. The looks you get from people. Those looks of "why are you here and who the heck are you?"  I got that a lot during Marty's illness from hospital personnel. I will probably get that from the funeral home too. A non-person "who the heck are you and why are you here?" look. Condescending looks down their noses when they finally figure out who you are and why you are there. I hate that. I hate the way that makes me feel. Yeah well, I am just the guy who supports and takes care of this family you are having to deal with right now. And I have been doing this for over ten years, jerk. And yeah, his grandkid there? I made that, that's my child too. And Marty? That's as close to a father in law as I will ever have you condescending, judgmental jerks.

I'll be damned if they are going to do that to Fran. Legally they can treat me like crap and I just have to buck up and take it from them. But I will stand up to them and shove it their up their butts if they mess with that loving, gentle soul for being there, her being just as much of the family as anyone else in that room.

We already had a real good dose of that "You're not a real family" stuff the day Marty died. Glen is as much a part of our family as anyone else. Glen works where Marty lived. His boss wouldn't even let him take a few hours off to spend some time with us after we got home from dealing with all this death and dying stuff all day Friday. And why? Because she doesn't see Sue or I as a family, why would she see Glen as part of our family? We needed Glen that night, needed him here bad. But he wasn't here because he was not allowed to take a few hours off before he went in to work and stay here with us to grieve as a family.

I am done with those kinds of people. His boss is going to get an earful from me before the end of all this and we have Marty's stuff out of his apartment. She won't get why I am so angry, she's too ignorant to get why, but I do not care whether she understands or not. I am done with bigots and their bull. Which is why Fran is going to be involved in every step of this process if she wants to be there. Forgive me if you are a straight person who is not judgmental and accepts other people's definition of who is their family, but I am done with straight people. Call me prejudice, but after 53 years of a world full of ignorant bigots, I am just done with their bull. I don't really give a rat's ass if they have never had to conceptualize the idea of alternative families before. So what, that's your problem, get out of my face and my life. I am done with you. Go get PC at someone else's expense. Not mine nor the people I love as family. Just go f**k yourselves.

There, that was the beginning of the anger stage of the grief process. Don't be an ignorant jerk with me when I am hurting. Nanny, nanny, poo poo.

 

Tonight I finally cooked that Thanksgiving Turkey I never made on Thanksgiving. I bought it to make Thanksgiving dinner with Marty in our home. That didn't happen because he was in the hospital. How foolish I was when I told the nurse the second day he was in the hospital that Marty needed to be out of the hospital by next Wednesday so that he could do Smooshing with Marty at The Meadows.

Now I am making soup stock from the bones and drippings. The rest is on a gift certificate. No, really, it's cut up in pieces to make turkey salad for the trip to Florida. More ways to save money for the trip. Marty would be proud of me.

He was fine that Sunday we all went shopping at Walmart and then out to dinner. Wham bam, two days later he was in the hospital with pneumonia and a blood infection. Two days after that he told Sue that he wanted to fight this, he wanted to live. That night he coded and they brought him back. Two days after that they had him on a ventilator with a tube down his throat.

We have been through life and death with Marty so many times over the last 10 years that we truly (and so did he) thought this was just one more in a series of things he would beat. It seemed impossible that someone as strong as Marty could finally succumb to the thing that has been slowly killing him for 28 years. It still seems impossible. It still seems unreal that this has happened. It's still unimaginable that he is physically gone from us now.

He was such a fighter. If you had known the odds he has beaten so many times. Seen him fight off things the doctors gave him no hope to live through. This just can't be real.

Sue was talking about things Marty had done for her while she was growing up last night. They weren't really things I think she saw as him having done for her so much as she was just telling stories about him, stories I have heard a dozen times or more over the years. Stories I can tell from memory myself now.

Because I am hearing the stories from a slightly different perspective right now, what I got out of all these tales last night was one thing: Marty was her advocate. He protected her from world, as any good father would want to do with their only child. He saved her repeatedly from the repercussions of a cruel world and her own actions, over and over again. And I personally as a parent would probably have done the exact same things as he did if it was within my power to do so to protect my child.

Back when we all lived together in Florida, Marty and I spent a great deal of time with each other. I worked nights at Disney and would come home in the morning to coffee freshly brewed and maybe toast and egg or a bagel if he felt up to "cooking". Sue would be off at work and K at preschool. So we had plenty of alone time to really get to know each other. Those were great times listening to his stories and discussing world affairs and such. It was during that time that I grew to love Marty for just being Marty and not because he was my father in law who I had to love because he was Sue's Dad. He ceased just being Sue's Dad to me and became Marty, my friend.

I think I have made it pretty clear that Marty gave us nearly everything we own in life. He bought us the house we placed on our property in Arkansas when Sue and I were first together. It wasn't that we didn't already own the property (well, I owned it), but the house that was on that property was a shithole and he refused to have his coming grandchild live in a shithole. Imagine this, that was my land, he placed a house on my land which only increased my equity, not something he would ever have a title to or own. That cost him over $35,000 to do all that, a risk he took with me that he was not just pissing his money away on something his daughter and grandchild may or may not ever reap the benefit of.

I could have tossed Sue out on her ear at any point. He had no idea if I would or would not do something like that. He truly did not really know me yet. He had not even met me face to face yet. I am not sure I could or would have taken that kind of risk on a stranger I barely knew. Maybe he was a good judge of character, I am not sure, but for some reason he trusted me. Now I will never know why. I never asked that question, I never had the chance. Words left unspoken, something I will always speculate about. What had I done to gain this great man's trust?

When we decided to move to Florida after he fell in the middle of the night and we feared for him being alone anymore, I sold the property with the little house Marty gave us and gave him all the money, including my own personal investment in the original property. A risk I was willing to take with him, he had trusted me, now I was trusting him. I was 45 years old and that little 5 acres was all I had to show for my whole life's work. I was trusting him with my everything now.

While we were still there on our little Arkansas farm, Sue asked him to buy us a riding lawn mower. Marty had no idea how big 5 acres was, nor how much work it was to keep it mown with a push mower. He declined Sue's request and so, I continued to mow the lawn the old fashion way and died nearly every time I had to mow it to keep the grass down in order to keep the snakes away from the house. Trust me, we had a bevy of rattlers and copperheads and the occasional cotton mouth come up from the creek. Then we moved to Florida, to a small place he liked to call the farm. Five acres in the middle of repossessed swamp land. More palmettos and palm trees than anything else, but still a couple of acres that had to be mowed every week.

And so I set about mowing the lawn on my day off every week. Still using the push mower. It's hot in Arkansas, very hot, but not the Africa hot it is in central Florida. After about the second or third time he saw me come in from mowing the lawn and saw that it took me hours to recover from mowing and doing the yard work, he grabbed me and took me running (not walking)down to Home Depot to buy a riding mower. I think he wanted me to live or something. He apologized for not understanding just how physically demanding mowing 3 acres of grass was in 100 degree weather. I don't think I ever saw him more concerned over my health as he was the day we ran down to Home Depot.

One day, probably close to a year into our Florida excursion (I call it that because I am being kind here, it was more like a nightmare to me having to live in that kind of weather after having lived in the desert for most of my life), on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, while Sue was off working at the vet clinic and Marty and I were all alone, he called me in to have a conversation that to him was most important. At this point in time he had been studying me closely, trying to figure out if I was worthy of his real trust. I think at this point, I had managed to earn it.

He was at his desk going through his paper work (he did that a lot). He started to talk about his investments and what he did with them and things far over my feeble non-investor head. Then he told me that someone was going to have to take care of these things for him when he was gone. He was trying to explain what all there was and how it worked and again, things far over my head. I finally told him that the stock market was something I knew very little about, if he wanted me to understand these things, he would have to teach me what he did and how it was done.

As I sat on the end of his bed, watching him shuffles through papers that meant nothing to me, he began talking about Sue. He said he knew that she could not do this, nor did she have any desire nor the ability to do this, and so it would have to fall to me to manage all this. There were words left unspoken as he knew I understood completely what he was saying about Sue. It's no offense to Sue, she just had and has no desire to have anything to do with stuff like that. After a moment or two he looked me directly in the eye and said " I apologize to you, I created that and I am sorry for you that it is now you that will have to live with what I have done."  In that moment a bond was cemented forever between us. He loved her more than life its self and he had figured out that I loved her and K as much as he did. Then he asked me to take care of Sue for him, he asked me to promise him that I would always take care of Sue and Kk for him. My heart went out to him, knowing how deeply he loved and adored his only child. I had become his hope that she would be alright after his passing.

And so I promised him with all of my being that I would take care of them until my dying breath. It's hard to explain the honor I was being bestowed with in his asking me to do this for him. If you had known him you would understand that Sue and K were his everything in this life. They meant more than life to him. They were his whole world. He would have fought legions to protect and care for them. So to entrust me with his most precious thing in life was an honor indescribable. An honor and a trust that despite all the things that have happened over the ensuing years I would not dishonor by breaking my vow to him.

Marty was an incredibly loving person. He had a heart of gold and could and would give you anything within his power to give. It was just the way he was. If he loved you, there was nothing he would not do for you. He had this incredible sense of humor that bordered repeatedly on corny. He had a wry sense of wit about him that only made you adore him more. To say he was brilliant is an understatement. Sitting around talking with Marty was always a pleasure as he had fabulous stories that amused and informed and amazed you on occasion. And his love was real, once he loved you, it was unconditionally. He just accepted you for who you were and loved you.

He had this great big smile that went on for days. It was more like a grin really. And his eyes twinkled when he grinned, like a mischievous little boy about to stick his hand in the cookie jar just as soon as Mom turned her back on him. That was Marty's grin. I think what it was about Marty is that he was just genuine. Even though he was born and raised a city boy, he wasn't jaded as some city folk get. It's kind of like Marty was that nerdy little kid who grew up smart in the ways of the world, but never became full of themselves like happens to some city folk. That nerdy, but mischeivious little boy still lurkeddeep inside of him, keeping him real.

Marty is missed more than my words can explain right now. It's not so much that we will miss seeing him or whatever, it's the loss of the relationship. Oh we will miss the personal contact, don't get me wrong here, but it's so much more than that. Not having whatever it was in him that he had become to you, father, grandfather, friend, fiance, the depth of that relationship, the bond of his unconditional love with you, that's what will be missed more than anything, at least for me anyway. Not having Marty around as a major part of your world seems impossible to comprehend.

For Sue, it's harder, of course, he was her father. This is also hard to explain, but she knew she had his unconditional love always. As her advocate, he loved even when she was not necessarily lovable. Which is why he stood up for her and defended her to the end. No matter what, she was always his little girl. Always his most beloved daughter until the end. I know she knows this, he is still there loving her from where he is now. That love can and will never end. A consolation of some sort when you can no longer pick up the phone and chat about the Dolphins game or Law and Order this week.

Grief is a heavy thing. It weights you down inside. It makes everything heavy. But it's something that must be done in order to heal and go on with life. Basically it sucks to have to have a reason to grieve. It sucks having to have this particular reason to have to hurt so bad inside. This is still a bad dream that there is no waking up from. It just blows, for a variety of reasons. The last thing I said to him as we were leaving his body at the hospital yesterday was that I would and will always keep my promise to him. I probably didn't have to tell him that because if he didn't know when he was alive, he knows now that he's free.

Marty hasn't really left yet. He was in Florida last night, I know because I have been keeping tabs on him. Checking up on him. He's doing ok. He's free now. He was here too. He's making sure we are all right, Sue, K, Fran, maybe even me. He really is ok, in fact, doing fine.

He's ok and we will all be ok with time. It's just going to take time to heal from this loss, this impossible loss of someone so wonderful. Marty, you were more of a dad to me than my own father. I wish I had said that to you. I wish I had had the opportunity to let you know that kind of stuff about you. But I think you know now anyway. I think you know how much you were loved by so many people. I think you know how deeply you touched people's lifes with your unassuming genuineness. I think you know now if you didn't before.

Tomorrow is K's birthday party. I'll be watching for you. Now I am going to attempt that sleep I haven't been able to have in the last 48 hours or so. I have to be strong now. Take care of me so that I can take care of Sue and K we can all get through this next week.

I love you Poppy.....

The hospital called about 45 minutes ago. Marty passed around 6 or so this morning. Now comes the real work of dealing with everything that needs to be done. Start with the funeral home and proceed from there.

I don't know if I will be here much for a while. Too much to do and get done. A very unwanted trip to Florida.

Ok, I am out of here. Send us prayers all you who pray. Right now physical strength would be nice.

Ciao

We have been trying to figure out the logistics of getting to Florida and paying for it all. I figured it would cost about $1000 if we drove as opposed to $1500 to $2000 if we flew. That's the problem with the airlines, their idea of a reduced bereavement fare is not very reduced. We would still have the cost of a hotel and rental car after we arrived, not to mention food and whatever else. Driving would require getting tires on Sue's Jeep and getting a tune up. Then the gas and I guess I could attempt to drive straight through, I've managed before. It wasn't easy but I did it. That would save on a motel both ways.

None of us have appropriate funeral clothes. I have lost so much weight that I have nothing left in the way of dress clothes and Sue just plain old has no really nice dress clothes anymore. Kaitlyn only has a pretty frilly Christmas dress, not appropriate for a funeral in Florida with the rich relatives watching. So I guess we will go shopping at some point in the next day of so and try to find some very inexpensive dress clothing, appropriate for this not so festive occasion.

When we are not at work, neither one of us gets paid, we are just off work, losing money. And all just before Christmas. Good for us that we bought the big present for K already. Somehow we will try to get some more smaller presents so that the tree is not so sparse. I would hate for the way that K finally discovers that there is no Santa to be because Grandpa died and we spent all our money dealing with taking Grandpa home to be buried.

The timing would have been better if it had been a couple of months from now, but honestly, nothing like this is ever convenient. We are always just a step ahead of all the bill collectors. Barely. So no time is ever convenient for us financially. Other people go through this thing every day. Everyday, thousands of people have to deal with the financial burden of burying their loved ones. Somehow they all get past it one way or another. So we too shall get past this, one way or another.

Our last bastion of hope is gone. Marty's heart can take no more. He has fought the good fight for 28 years, ever since they diagnosed him with this terminal illness. He should have died years and years ago, but he wasn't ready and he fought the good fight to live as long as possible. Even in this last hospitalization, he has fought for all he was worth to keep going on. But his heart is done and the doctors can do no more. Now it is time to let him go and that is an almost impossible thing to comprehend.

For a man who has only been in my life for 10 years and some change, it seems difficult at best to imagine life without him in it somehow. I think Jay summed it up best tonight when he said that Marty was the most selfless man he had ever known. I owe him everything in my life. Every vehicle we own, our home, everything. I look around this home and everything I see came from Marty. Even the very desk I sit at now typing in this journal. And when I go to bed tonight, I will crawl into the bed he bought Sue 7 years ago in Florida.

I cannot pay him back for his love he has shown us. I cannot ever back give to him all he gave to me, to us.

I will always remember my very first encounter with Martin Goldberg. He was going to send Sue out to visit us here in Arkansas. Because we had met over the internet, he was concerned that we were not axe murderers. Which was and is a valid concern considering the internet and what may lurk out there. So I got on the phone with him and I gave him every piece of personal information about myself that I could think of, my SS number, my business name, address, tax ID numbers, anything he could use to verify that I was real and not an axe murderer. In a way, I think he was getting a real chuckle out of me trying to prove to him that I was for reals.

I wanted him to trust me, to know that I loved his daughter and meant only the best for her and would never intentionally harm her in any way. Eventually he grew to trust me with everything. It was and is a trust I cannot ever break, even in death. I am that son-in-law you hope your daughter marries. He used to joke about me being his son-in-law. He really never knew just how right he was about that. What he does not know is that I have given my life for him. Not out of some since of owing him anything, but out of honor and the deep love I grew to hold for him in my heart.

Now with his end imminent, I grieve the loss of never having told him how deep my respect for him was. Yes, I told him how much I loved him, that did not go unspoken, but I never got to have that conversation about how much I honored him as a person and respected him for all that he was.

What a great and loving man he is, how deeply he has given to those he loves. He has built himself up some good karma in this lifetime. I love you Martin Edward Goldberg. And I will honor you and the memory of all you are and were until the day I die. I should only hope that people love me and grieve my passing as we all love you and are grieving now.

Now I am off to bed, tomorrow another day filled with things neither Sue nor I wish we had to deal with.

I love you Poppy.....

I am unsure of how to describe the emotions and thoughts of late going on in our home. For me, right now it has gotten to the point of feeling surreal. At the moment, I feel as if I am in another time and space physically removed from my head. My body is vibrating as if it's about to take off for another dimension.

This is stress induced. Remember I said that death does not become me? Maybe that was in an email to someone privately rather than in here. Doesn't matter, the point is, having to deal with life and death is mind numbing after a period of time. Heart strangling painful decisions. Something at some point in time nearly everyone must live through and endure as best as possible.

It's all so easy to talk of death as part of life from your head when death seems to be beating down the door at every step. No one lives forever you tell yourself, the feeble attempt to forcefully rationalize your heart in to accepting what your head tells you is soon to come.

Not willing to let go as long as there is still hope. Not giving up until there is no other alternative. Because that alternative is being without that person until whenever again. And having to make decisions. Listening to your already numb heart. Knowing you are doing what they would want if they were there in their right mind to make these decisions for themselves. It doesn't make it any easier on the heart to know you are doing what they would want you to do for them.

Give them their dignity, their pride (and for a Leo that is a very important one), let them go if they are ready. No more suffering. Don't let this pain continue when medically they are telling you that it is an impossible battle to fight.

I have been a warrior for many lifetimes. I have fought for king and emperor. Fought their battles to my own death so many times that my spirit is battle weary after so many chieftains and so many lives. Now my king lays dying in a hospital bed. I have fought to defend his honor, his dignity, his wishes. I am being told to lay down my weapons. The king is dead, long live the king. But my king is not dead, not yet anyway and I the warrior prince cannot lay down his weapons just yet. Not just yet.

And until he draws his last breath, I his warrior prince, defender of his realm, I who swore my allegiance and loyalty to him far past his death remains steadfast in my vigilance. I cannot waver, nor be weak now, I am his warrior prince, sworn to care for his empire until my own dying breath. Carrying out my promise to him, knowing he knows in his heart that I am here and will remain true to my promise to him, long after his physical body is dust.

I will take care of them Marty, because I gave you my word, my solemn promise, vowed to you that I would. And so I have and will continue to do so. Because you gave me your trust, loyalty and devotion and so, in my heart, it is the honorable thing to always keep my vow to you, even past death. It is the honorable thing born of my love for you, not because I owe you, but because it was a commitment made between two souls who knew, trusted and loved one another deeply.

Because that is just the way I am made. I do not know how to be any different. My devotion to you unending, you knew that about me. You chose well my king. I've let love pass me by because I could not, would not break my vow to you. I've let my soul die a thousand deaths because I will not fail you my friend, my king.

In another time and place we will embrace and our spirits will remember silently what our conscious minds have forgotten. We will remember the bond of love and of honor. As only two warriors can.

We have made the decision to fight if necessary for you at every turn, but if the battle is lost, we have decided to let you go with as much dignity as possible. No more tubes down your throat, no more painful, evasive maneuvers , no more wasting away to nothing, not if it will never bring you back again. Until there is no hope we hold our vigilance for you, and when all hope is gone, we let you go with dignity.

And that is what is going on in my head and heart now. We are trying to make it through K's birthday with the imminence of all this looming in front of us. Forget about Christmas, that is just something in the way right now. Something that must be dealt with because of K and because she still believes in Santa Claus.

Holding out hope, painfully, awaiting a miracle of help from someone or something. Anything for our king.

Long live the King.

Ok, so I just want a show of hands here. Should I or should I not have walked away from this accident with only a 2 inch laceration and nerve damage below my right eye, a crushed right shoulder and carpal disk, major bruising and minor cuts to my legs? Should I and Glenny, have perished? The paramedics did not know how we both came of that vehicle alive, let alone walked out (well, sort of walked, it was more like crawling and then stumbling out).

I bring this up right now because, the demand letter was sent off to the insurance company this last week. We shall see what they think this was all worth to me. We didn't even document the lost work, people I had to pay to be me while I recouperated (impossible for me to do that now, too late to even figure it all out and the person I paid to be me while I was unable to really work is more or less still not exactly someone I would entrust a statement in a legal case of mine with at the moment).

We shall see. Only time will tell what I am worth to "the man".

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Way back when, a few million years ago or so, back when I was a tad pole, back when dinosaurs still roamed the earth (or so Kaitlyn thinks), I believed that I was actually sort of smart. Not brilliant, just smart. Smart ass was more like it. Quick witted, fast, with a brilliant come back. Stuff like that. I also had a vocabulary far, far above a normal pubescent child. That wasn't because I was smart, that was because I was well read. To be able to read Time or National Geographic, one had to use a dictionary and actually know how to look words up that one did not understand the meaning of. Hence the college level vocabulary at 12.

I used to think that nearly everyone else on earth was an idiot and I was just far superior to them intellectually. Forty-one years have passed since the time I first formulated that idea in my little pea brain. Since that time I have met many a soul with intellects far superior to my own. I must admit that I am generally drawn to those people, I get almost giddy around highly intelligent people. I become enamored with them. Maybe it's because it's such a rarity in my world to actually meet someone with an IQ over 100. I am like a starving dog when I find that one juicy bone amongst the rot of the compost pile.

I have learned that I am not all that smart. In fact, I am only slightly above average. Those of you with genius IQs will note that while perusing my blog. My blog, like myself, never quite reaches brilliance, just slightly above average. I am ok with that. It's just me and I have learned to like me just ok, just as I am, just slightly above average and all.

Living in the Ozarks, you run into a lot of people who, had they been raised elsewhere and been prodded to actually get a real education, might have been considered brilliant. You can tell that despite their lack of a formal education, they still are able to figure out complex mechanical or mathematical issues that dumbfound me. I generally can tell when someone has a higher than average intelligence despite their lack of a formal education. It's taken living here for 15 years to figure that one out though. Well, actually, I started figuring that out shortly after I moved here, but my ability to spot brilliance despite someone not being urbanely erudite has evolved down to a science over the years.

What I have learned over the years here is to not judge a book by it's cover. You would think that coming from a large metropolitan area such as Los Angeles that I would have learned long ago not to judge people just because of their vocabulary or the way they dressed. Not so, double negatives actually still tend to throw me off a bit when conversing with someone. I have to take the long view and remember that they are from here where double negatives are still part of the cultural nomenclature.  

Because someone choses to use the colloquialism "Fixing to go to", does not make them less than brilliant. It makes them a product of their environment. Since I have met many a person that I have learned are quite brilliant in their own special ways who use such regional slang, I have learned that what comes out of someone's mouth does not necessarily mean they are not smart. I have found that each individual must be studied as it's own unique entity in order to make a judgment of their intellectual capacity.  Gone are my days of taking one short listen to a conversation coming out of someone's mouth and placing a value judgment on their brilliance or lack there of.

Uncle Bill is a prime example of someone who is brilliant, yet appears ignorant on first glance because of the regional vocabulary he uses in conversation. He is also old enough to have a serious regional accent. Bill is a little over 60 now and was born and raised in Springdale. Not many people born around "these them there parts" in the last 30 years have a regional accent. Television, improving roadways and mass migrations from urban areas have changed the regional accent in the young of the Ozarks. That nasal tone is almost all but lost to anyone under 35. In fact, when you meet someone under 35 around here with an accent, you are pretty sure that they were not born and raised here. With the exception of some backwoods folk who's parents kept them cloistered from the real world. But then you are talking people who truly did live way the fuck out in the middle of absolutely no where, high up in the hills in some far away holler, their nearest neighbor being 10 miles away. A lot of the Amish and Mennonite around here still have serious accents. Are you getting the picture now?

Anyway, Bill is brilliant. Inways that I sincerely envy. I think Bill has the equivalent of an AA from whatever regional junior college was available to him at the time he was being educated. Basically he took whatever courses he had to take in order to get ahead in his career at the time. I can relate to that, I did that too in my youth. Bill was brilliant in mathematics. So he became an accountant. He calls it a book keeper since he does not have a BA, but he did the work of an accountant for many, many years.

How you know that Uncle Bill is a genius is not his vocabulary, nor his brilliance in math, but rather it's his ability to take one look at a complex mechanical problem and solve it almost instantly. In fact, it almost infuriated me with how fast he could figure things of that nature out so quickly. I would be knocking my brains out trying to figure out how something functioned (that happens a lot in my line of work btw) and he would walk over, take one momentary look at it and have it functional or apart or whatever in moments. Sure as hell made me feel like a moron on more than one occasion.

Uncle Bill, whether he knows it or not, has taught me much about intelligence over the years. In his quiet, unassuming way, he taught much more than I have ever taught him. Uncle Bill was my best man at my ill fated wedding. Well, the wedding wasn't ill fated, just the relationship. That's what I get for thinking I needed to make an honest woman out of someone. But I digress, Bill was and is in fact, one of my dearest friends. I love him beyond words.

At any rate, my young child, Kaitlyn by name, who shall turn 9 in a few days just came down stairs to announce to me that she can't sleep. I made her some warm milk and gave her a quick relaxation technique that I am sure she will not use and sent her back up to bed.

Her mother claims that our child wants to learn what I have to teach her about things pertaining to spirituality. I guess after almost 9 years of her not listening to a thing I say, I find it hard to believe that she would be able to learn anything from me since she seldom listens to anything coming out of my mouth.

She just came back down again to tell me that she did the relaxation thing I just taught her and that she got all the way to her feet, fell asleep for a few minutes andthen woke right back up again. I didn't correct her by telling her that she might have been upstairs for all of 3 minutes before she came back down. I am sure some people would think this is cute. I don't think it's cute. I think it's brilliant thinking to buy a few more minutes of not being in bed where you are supposed to be. But then I would never say that either because for some reason, that sort of thing goes right over her head.

See how much fun parenting is. Makes you want to be one doesn't it? I never wanted to be a parent when I was a child, just as an FYI here. Never had day dreams of being anyone's parental unit of any sort. Never played with dolls, never played house, never fantasized any of those sick things that children who wanted to be parents did when they were kids. I dreamed of building communities, building homes that were functional for people. Building communities where people lived together in harmony. Normal every day childhood dreams.

Ok, it's bed time. Wish me luck on my own bed time meditation.

Ciao

I used to think, or at least thought back when I became aware that what made me so friggen different was my being gay, that straight people really had it made. Especially straight biological males.

 

I could never figure out why they ever got sad or unhappy about anything. Nobody wanted to kill them for being different, because, well, they weren't different. They fit in, round peg to round hole. No square peg being shoved mercilessly into a round hole. What did they have to complain about?

 

That was the uncomplicated thinking of a 12 year old. Now I know that life is a little more complex than just an issue of whether someone wants to kill you for being born different. Now I know that lots of people are born different and that difference has nothing to do with their affectional orientation, nor their gender identity. Their differences are however, enough to make some people kill them just because of who they were born.

 

Unfortunately for me, the one thing about me that makes me stand out is my gender identity disorder. You could tell me you would give me several million dollars if I would start acting and dressing like Jane Seymour (I tried to pick someone beautiful in my own age group thank you) and I might give it a try to get your money off you, but you can't make a square peg fit in a round hole. Basically what you would get is a biological female who acts and looks like a man dressing up in drag and parading around acting like a drag queen. If you think I couldn't pull Marilyn Monroe off for a few weeks (tops btw) you are wrong, I could. I can act rather well when I have to do improv. Don't give me a script though, I will fail you miserably.

 

I learned to dress like a girl and do my make up from a black drag queen. He was my room mate. My make up tended to be a little dark back in those days. Even when he was no longer my room mate, I still bought darker bases when I had to do make up for work or whatever. If I had to buy make up now, I promise you I would need to go to the make up counter at Dillards and have the make up girl help me pick shit out. I have no idea what to buy to fit my skin tone. I tend to go a little flamboyant when doing my own make up. Not exactly as flamboyant as Tammy Faye (God rest her soul), but bad enough that there is no way you are going to second guess if I have make up on or not. It's very apparent.

 

But back to straight people. I am not straight. I wouldn't be straight even if I was a biological male. There's something about the straight culture at large that I just can't totally fit into or feel completely comfortable with. It's not their affectional orientation, it's something else, something I can't quite put my finger on. I have plenty of straight friends. They love me, I love them, no one gives a rat's ass about the other person's affectional orientation. I think what it might be, at least partly, is that I always have in the back of my mind lurking somewhere that they (the straight people) would still kill me if they were forced to do so, say, by the government or something. Not my friends, but straight people at large.

 

Kill me dead just like they killed millions of Jews and other folk who could not hide who they were from Hitler's Nazi regime. They even killed us gay and transgendered folk way back when during the holocaust. Kill the easy targets, kill those that hatred can be whip up into a frenzy over if the need arises. Blacks, Jews, queers, trannys, Hispanics, Muslims, whatever. Whip up that hatred and give the general populace an all clear go ahead to mass murder folk and you'll have a blood bath on your hands. Sounds like lots of good clean government approved fun. You'd even have lots of closeted queers joining in on this fun.

 

Now would all straight people join in this feeding frenzy? Hell no. Bunches of them would tell the government to fuck off for as long as possible. Right up until the government had imprisoned and murdered enough of them that they feared deeply for their own lives. Then they would do whatever they had to do to survive. You say you want to see your 6 year old son again, then do as we command.

 

No, not everyone would jump on the band wagon, but I bet I could estimate that a full 50% of the populace would jump in goose stepping all the way almost immediately.

 

You think not? Who elected (ok, elected was a joke) George Bush twice (don't tell me no one even though it's true)? Right now, if a guy named Sirhan Sirhan assassinated Robert Kennedy again, their would be an anti-Muslim sentiment grow so hard and so fast in this country that it would take nothing to get the government to get you good citizens to help them round up anyone who even looks remotely middle eastern or has the first name of Mohammed (Mohammed Ali included) off to those prison camps they were setting up around the country back in the 80s and 90s.

 

First the Muslims, then the people who protested the Muslims being incarcerated, it's just a short step down the ladder to every other ethnic, religious, or whatever makes you of a different mindset group to become a target for extinction.

 

I have been trying to figure out what kind of brainwashing they are going to do to the American populace once digital television is the only way you can receive your daily mind numbing pabulum. I am wondering if the subliminal messages they will be sending in to our living rooms can be blocked with some kind of device. Surely someone will come up with a blocker, it will just never get out there into the hands of the general public. And the general public will not know they need it anyway. You don't see people in malls with devices to block the subliminal buying messages being piped into their brains over the Muzak. Despite the fact that that was big news back in the 80s, they are still so brainwashed already that the general populace still does not care.

 

Subliminal messages telling the people what to think and believe. Right from your own living room TV. How cool is that? Way better than telling people where to go in a mall and what to buy. Did you ever think you would see that kind of thing in your lifetime? Ok, I did, but then I am a student of history and know precisely how governments and religions have controlled the masses over the millennia. I unfortunately know from my studies just how dangerous power is in the hands of people who run big businesses, governments andreligions. Most people are not students of history, most people are not students of anything. Most people are mindless sheep just trying to make it from pay check to pay check. They are not bad people, not any worse than the good folk of Germany who got whipped up into a feeding frenzy anyway.

 

I think that is what is really is about straight people in general that I feel uncomfortable about. I know that Joe Blow who lives down the street from me would turn my ass in if he is conditioned well enough through brainwashing. Makes you feel special knowing that your neighbor could and would kill your ass to save his own doesn't it? Not because he particularly wants to kill your ass, but because he has had thousands of little blips of information shot into his brain every night while watching American Idol.

 

Blip (queers are bad, they corrupt our great nation). Blip (Islam is an evil religion, they are trying to kill us all). Blip (all Muslims must die to save us). Blip (Christianity is the only real religion). Blip (name your leader here, is a great leader and loves you, do as he/says). Blip, blip, blip, blip, blip. Until you no longer have a mind to call your own.

 

Ah technology. Gotta love it.

 

Btw, I think Suzie is still here, but I still haven't taken the time to figure out if she really is here or not. Maybe later.

 

Ciao

When I found out that Suzie had finally died, I was feeling pretty bad. I had to hold my tears back because I was not alone and for some unknown reason, ok, maybe it's not that unknown, I couldn't cry in front of my family.

I have to be the strong one, always. And usually I am. Once in a blue moon I break down and I show anger, but other emotions I save for alone time. By the time I got that alone time I was beyond tears, I had gone numb. Just a dull and constant ache in my heart.

Knowing someone is dying doesn't make it any easier when they finally do die. Maybe you don't have that shock factor going on there, but it still stings deeply to the core.

I thought I felt Suzie visiting a couple of days after she passed. I didn't bother to see if she was really there, I was too tired to try. I am pretty sure she has gone on now. I am not worried about Suzie, I know she is off evaluating this lifetime. I know that she is experiencing exactly what it is that she needs to experience right now. I shall miss her in ways only I can explain. I shall simply miss the fact that in this lifetime, I will not get to experience her again. Which is what makes me sad for the moment. A relationship I had that is over for now.

Relationships are the main way we learn life lessons. When I think back on this life, I know I spent the majority of my life keeping others at arms length, never letting anyone inside, never sharing from my core.

And then one day (and a lot of meditation, deep spiritual searching and a cathartic revelation or two later), I chose to open up and let people inside. I chose to share the very core of my being with others.

I did pretty good at first. I had learned to accept and love myself unconditionally. I really loved me in ways I never knew was possible to love ones self. So I began sharing deeply with others, from my very core, allowing others to come inside and share the unconditional love I had inside.

Sincerely, it was pretty cool at first. It felt good to love others so deeply, to be able to give love from the core of my being without personal judgement or conditions set about how or why I would give out that love.

And then it started to hurt. Mainly because I letit hurt. Mainly because I wasn't able to maintain the centeredness necessary to always come from that place of universal oneness. It began to hurt because I wanted to always have that kind of connection with others and I found that others are not always able to be that connected to another person for whatever their own personal reasons are/were.

Loving that deeply became like a drug of sorts. I was enthralled with the joy it brought me. I wanted that joy to always be there. Constant. Well, maybe not constant, but often enough. I loved the feeling of being able to reach out to another and touch their being and allow them to touch mine. It rocked for me to say the least.

I tried a total unconditional opening of my heart and being twice. Both times I allowed whatever is wounded in me that still needs healing to cloud my thinking. I didn't stop loving unconditionally, I just began to pull back and close off. Further and further back until I had removed whatever parts of me I had learn to love sharing with them so deeply, from them completely.

I had thought I was able to love unconditionally no matter what.  No matter how deep the woundings in others were, no matter how much their woundings effected me personally. I thought I could just love past all that and help heal their woundings. I found that after a period of time, my emotions could no longer with stand the depth of the other's woundings and how they effected me personally. I began to falter and withdraw in order to minimize the pain I was experiencing. I never stopped loving these people unconditionally, I could just no longer deal with the depth of my own response to all that was happening within myself as a result of all that was happening in their own selves as they sought to grow and learn. The pain was excruciating. I knew no other way to deal with where this depth of sharing that deeply with another had taken me inside. I was not able to go any further and I had not learned how to maintain that state of unconditional love of my own self in order to continue on.

I was losing who I thought I was. And so I removed myself to protect me until such a time as I was able to heal whatever was in my self that could no longer stay centered and healthy.

I still have not healed completely. I am still broken inside. I have been working on the healing. Working hard in fact. I want back what I had and then some. I want that centeredness and that complete accepting of my own being unconditionally. I want to feel that unconditional love I once felt so deeply for my own being back again. Because it was that love of self that allowed me to love others so deeply and unconditionally.

These baby steps I took with others taught me lessons. I am not sure what all was learned and I do know that the lessons are not over. I still have far to go before I truly comprehend all I need to know in order to always come from that place of unconditional love and acceptance. For everyone I encounter.

I don't see myself being able to allow anyone inside again any time soon. I know I am not there yet, I know there is something more that has to happen within me to allow me the ability to always be there and centered in that place of universal oneness/unconditional love.

So much still to learn. So far still to go. So far and so deep, so much more. I am here to learn. My heart open to receive all my lessons. So much more.....

My cousin Suzie died at 5:25 pm yesterday, December 1, 2007. I needed to share that. Just needed to let the world know that Suzie Shed lived and died.  Peace out cuz, catch you next go round.