Thank You Vietnam Vets

Part 3 of ...... Will this story ever end?

Part two here.

What I am about to say will not make sense to a lot of people.  

I had planned to be there with my brothers as Bill was nearing the end. I wanted to be there. I know first hand how incredibly hard it is to care for someone during their last days. Yet, it is also incredibly awesome, in the true meaning of awe. 

When my dad passed away from liver cancer in 1992, all four of us kids and my mother stood next to the hospital bed that sat in the middle of the their living room and held him as he slipped the surly bonds of this earth. It was horrible and yet, it was amazing. 

I realize that this will be a hard concept for anyone who has not held the hand of a loved one while they were dying. 

Is there any greater gift you can give someone than giving them comfort while they are dying?  I'll admit I have been blessed with an amazing family, however that connection of providing each other comfort in the worst of times has forged a bond that will never be broken. 

So, I wanted to be there. I knew that although my brothers knew what they were about to face, two people would not be enough assistance to get through the last stretch. When I had Bill sign the living will we had a very frank discussion regarding the end of his life. He worried that someone would call 911 and/or attempt to keep him alive. He also talked about getting someone to assist him in hurrying it along. I explained that if he expected one of us to assist in his suicide, that would likely be a line we could not cross.  However if he was in the thralls of dying, it was different. "You forget, we've been through this before".  We would let him die in peace. And in love. 

So I had planned on being there. 

As March was moving into its third week last year, I however was dealing with things at home. Some of you might remember that exactly on this day last year, Bob was facing a major surgery to extract a tumor on his spine. The man who never is sick or injured was dealing with spending his first days in a hospital since he was born. He was nervous. And there were people in his family making it worse by causing unnecessary drama.  

And it was during that time that Bill's body was surrendering to that damned disease we call cancer. 

I, like Bill's oldest brother, had important health isssues to deal with at home.  

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Early morning on March 22, 2013, we arrived at the hospital to await Bob's surgery. The docs had indicated it would take 3 to 4 hours and he would be hospitized 4 to 5 days.   My brother Mark had intended to come to the hospital. But he had other priorities.  He had become Bill's main caregiver as Bill's final hours were coming to pass. 

Both of us felt tugged in two directions. Yet we both knew where we needed to be. 

Thankfully two of my nieces (my other brother's girls) stepped in. That afternoon Bill was in incredible pain and ended up doubled over laying on the floor of his bedroom. Mark and one of my nieces laid down beside him for hours.   He wouldn't get in bed and he did not want to be moved. So the three of them laid in the floor.  

When hospice arrived, they were able to get him back in bed and tell them the end was coming very soon. 

I talked with Mark late that night as Bob was resting in his hospital bed and I was sitting up on my makeshift chairbed where we would stay for the next five days. I hated that I was unable to be there for them, but of course everyone understood I was where I needed to be and the timing was what it was. 

As I cried and told my brother I loved him, I told him to call me when it was "time".  My brother's youngest daughter had gone home and her older sister had taken over the watch in the house. They had arranged a schedule to switch in a few hours. 

Around 1, I was awakened by my phone ringing. I scrambled out of the hospital room to not awaken Bob. 

Bill had passed. His struggle was finally over.  My niece had just turned over her shift to Mark. 

I told Mark I would call Bill's brother. The one sleeping at home because his sweet bride was undergoing chemo battling her own cancer.   Although his voice was slightly groggy, I could tell that he knew when he saw my name on the caller ID what the news would be. While I hated delivering the news, I felt it was the least I could do for my brothers since I had not been there to help. 

Unfortunately, the story doesn't stop there.   And now that it is now one year later makes it even harder to tell. 

Part Two of ?

See Part One here.

Of course everything was difficult. Finding a doc that will not only accept a new patient, but one that is dying is nearly impossible in our area. And oddly enough, you have to be referred to Hospice. You can't just pick up the phone, have your records transferred and get access to the service. 

Bill's family asked me to assist him with arranging his finances. In my view, that also required making sure COBRA was continued. The problem, as my brothers were also finding out, was that either the cancer was attacking Bill's mind or he was so overwhelmed with his past and current situation that it was difficult to determine exactly what he had done or not done. 

As the weeks moved on, he grew worse and worse. I had him make out a living will, a "dying" will and a POA for accessing his health care. I didn't want to get a POA for his finances. Although he had nothing and was deep in debt, he had a pension from his previous employer. He had insisted that he had sent the paperwork to his employer for both the COBRA and the pension, but I could not get him to produce copies. 

One frustrating evening I had gone to my brothers' to get some paperwork. Thankfully I was finally able to contact his employer. Also thankfully the HR director knew of Bill's situation and gave me information that helped in accessing the COBRA and the paperwork to get access to his pension.  When I asked my brothers where Bill's mail was, they said they had given it to him. I told them to stop giving him mail. He never knew where it was and was rather secretive about the paperwork even though he readily accepted my help.  When I asked for the pension paperwork, he gave me papers regarding his original diagnosis, some three years ago. 

As my brothers were dealing with trying to take care of this dying man physically, I was in contact quite a bit with his older brother, attempting to give them what financial advice I could.  

Sometime in early February last year, it was apparent Bill would not last much longer. His brother told me he and his sweet Tennessee bride and their sons were planning on visiting in late March. 

In my role, I felt I needed to be extremely direct. Not only with Bill, but with his family. I explained that I thought that would be too late. I wasn't sure he would still be alive in those six weeks. His brother took my assessment to heart and arranged to come visit, alone just a couple of weeks later. 

As I sat at my brothers' table that day, Bill had rallied back and was able to produce all of the paperwork we needed to get things rolling. I wondered if my cousin thought I had been exaggerating. However the rallying only lasted one day and before his brother headed back home, he was again in really bad shape. 

His brother planned to return again as they had originally planned in late March. 

And from there the story takes an even more tragic turn. 

In late February, the brother and his sweet bride were going for their normal morning run. She had been out of breath for some time, enough to go to the doctor who sent her to the hospital. Where they found a tremendous amount of fluid on those perfectly healthy lungs. A liter and a half. 

And it was cancerous. 

How can that be?  

This woman was in incredible shape. She ate right, never smoked, ran several miles every day.  Not to mention that it just didn't seem fair.  The world is bereft of such sweet people. She was kind, gentle, sweet and loving. She was only 49. How did she get lung cancer?

After the diagnosis, the doctor explained that her cancer was not curable but was certainly treatable. He indicated he had patients that had been diagnosed ten years ago. The treatment was occasional rounds of chemo. There was some hope. Not great news, but not devastating either. 

Obviously the family trip in March would be out for my cousin. His wife needed to start chemo right away and although his brother was dying, he had to be there for his "child bride" as he lovingly called her. 

The next few weeks Bill grew steadily worse. Hospice was finally engaged and began regular visits. By then, my brother Mark was a full time nurse to a very belligerent patient. Since Bill had been a nurse, he was insistent he knew what he should be taking and when. But his mind was going quickly. 

The great thing about Hospice is not only the care they give the patient,but the counseling they give the family. Mark has described it as more like an intervention. They counseled him on how to deal with a stubborn dying man. They also adjusted Bill's medication to keep him more sedated since the end was nearing. 

We Interrupt This Program.....

To bring you breaking news. 

Five years ago today I started this do-nothing blog of mine. 

I've written some posts that were really good, in my opinion.  Maybe five or so. Averaging one a year.  So so. Can't say I've really learned anything. And I don't have a multitude of readers, but I suppose that wasn't my intent to begin with. 

What I can say is I feel like I've "met" some really good people through this self-absorbed medium.  Only once have I "gotten burned" in that the little jerk just invented everything about his blog and life. Why someone would expend so much energy doing that is beyond me.  What I find even more annoying are those people who create multiple persona online and then comment on blogs (not mine). Sometimes they even end up arguing with themselves or forget which persona they are logged in under and out themselves. Only Sally Fields made a good Sybil. These people are just ignorant. 

I'm working on Part Two of the story below. There is much to tell, so I'm struggling with not getting bogged down in the details. Hopefully I can finish it before we leave for a cruise this coming Sunday. 

Five years ago I would have never believed we would have escaped the winter this year, FINALLY.  

Loving it down here. 

So I have nothing profound today, which isn't much different that other posts.  We went to an outlet mall to get a few things for the cruise today.  It just reminded me of why I hate to shop.  

On the way home Bob stopped at Micky D's to grab a quick hamburger. He paid at the first window and then drove up to the second. The girl there was holding a sack (of course) but then asked, "Is this yours?"  Considering we didn't know for sure what was in the sack, it was kinda a hard question to answer. 

That was not quite as odd as when I pulled up to the Taco Bell drive through in Greenwood years ago and ordered over the little speaker thingy. Then the guy asked me, "Is this to go?"   

Part One. - of two or three.

He made bad choices nearly all of his life. Maybe he felt left out. The middle child of three boys each with a wicked sense of humor, he sometimes seemed to fall into the invisible category.  Two years younger than the oldest boy and four years older than one who literally was reading encyclopedias by the age of three. 

All three were exceptionally talented. Whether it be art, music, you name it. Like a lot of children of the 60's and 70's, they each rebelled in some manner, but he outdid his brothers. Sometimes going missing for months.  He burnt some bridges with his addictions and horrible money habits. Something he seemed to regret later, but not enough to actually make permanent changes. 

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Even in her early twenties, she exuded the epitome of true southern charm. Her refined southern Tennessee accent captured most immediately. Her gentle nature never seemed to waver. But she was strongly independent too.  Everyone who knew her spoke of how amazingly sweet she was.  She loved to cook, all healthy food, hiked, biked and ran. 

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His missing years were known only to his immediate family and not even them at times. Eventually he settled down and began to work on straightening his life out. He married a lady in the service, adopted her daughter and began to study to become a nurse.   

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After college, she began her career with a company as a computer programmer. Shortly thereafter she attracted the attention of a graphics designer, eleven years her senior.   He was the eldest child of three boys with a wicked sense of humor and he described her as magical from the start. They married and traveled before settling down and raising two boys of their own. 

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We arrived in Nashville's Centennial Park early that morning. A midway mini-family reunion, if you will.  We Hoosiers staked out our claim on the picnic tables, pulling three together and covering them with table clothes.  Although it was still early, the International Festival was beginning to get crowded so we went in pairs to grab some early grub. 

When I returned, I saw that the crowd had begun to try to take over the tables we had covered, encroaching on our predetermined space. I was a bit irked that several had sat at the tables that we had set up in advance knowing we would have around 14 in total when everyone arrived. 

Since we had started out early, I was hungry even at 10 in the morning. I sat in the middle of the tables and began to eat the roasted chicken I found at one of the booths. I noticed my sister talking with a guy I was sure was trying to invade our space. She was showing him her camera when he looked over at me. When I looked up, he said, "Hi". 

I resisted shrugging my shoulders and instead said a tolerable, "Hi" back to him and went back to my chicken. I thought it was odd when my sister seemed surprised and said, "All she said was 'hi'?"  I looked up again because I didn't know why she seemed so welcoming to this stranger who surely wanted to nab our picnic spot. 

When I looked at his face I realized he was a very attractive man I estimated to be in his mid-forties. And then it dawned on me.   I had not seen him in close to 30 years. Standing before me was Bill, my long lost cousin, the middle child of three wickedly funny boys. I jumped up to hug this guy who had seemingly emerged from the other side.  The in-between years for him were up and down, but appeared to be settled down. He was not in his mid-forties, but 54 and ruggedly handsome. He was still wickedly funny, but I managed to make him laugh when I asked him how many face lifts he had.  Considering he spent several years abusing his body, I was surprised how how young he looked. 

He was by then married to a young girl more than 20 years his junior, his third wife. They appeared happy and we were all delighted to be reunited with our missing cousin and his young wife.  From first appearances it seemed that he had beaten the odds. He had a successful career and talked about his regrets over his past choices. 

A couple hours later, his older brother arrived from Alabama with his two boys and sweet Tennessee wife. Even 20 years after their wedding, he still referred to her as his bride.  They were obscenely compatible and their boys, by then teenagers, were amazingly polite and sweet. Unlike his younger brother, we had remained close and were delighted whenever we could arrange our schedules to spend some time together with them. 

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Within just a few weeks after our Nashville reunion, Bill was diagnosed with stage IV esophgeal cancer. The treatment was long and brutal but apparently successful. The radiation left him extremely weak, his throat nearly raw and aged him over a dozen years. Eating most things caused uncontrollable coughing. He lived mainly on drinking Boost. 

After his recovery and return to work, his young wife fled off to California and left him with a big house he could not afford and the mounting money issues that he had never controlled. The next year left him in total despair, working double shifts, attempting to get his strength and weight back. Working 80 hour weeks in a psych unit burned more calories than he could take in. 

He researched several methods of suicide, planning it in detail. However he knew that many of those who attempt it end up drooling vegetables when they do it incorrectly.  His family was extremely worried about him, alone now in Nashville and they knew the depression was overtaking him. 

Reconnecting after decades, Bill and my brother began talking for several hours on the phone. Even working overtime, Bill could not possibly dig himself out the debt and the huge house payment. My brother finally convinced Bill to move to Indiana and live with him.   Everyone breathed a sigh of relief that things would get better.  

Two weeks before the move, they found the cancer had returned. 

Knowing he could not survive the side effects he had from the first treatment again, he opted to just let nature take it's course. 

When I first saw him after the move a year ago last November, I was shocked by his skeletal appearance. He could not have weighed 100 pounds.  And he had come to Indiana to not die alone. 

I'm Wordless so I thought I Would Post Some Weirdness

(I wrote the following in the middle of the night, the first night we arrived here in Fort Myers.)

There were only a handful of people in the class when I sat down in the chair.  The teacher said there would be a quiz. Dang it, I forgot about the quiz and was sure I'd blow it. 

I went to get some paper from the notebook I carried in and there were no blank pages left. The quiz was only two questions. I saw Chris, the guy next to me handed his quiz in and left. He was a guy I worked with several years ago. I then realized the quiz was only two questions, the first one was simple, the second one was about politics. I really wanted to answer the questions and kept asking around for anyone with extra paper. 

Then instead of missing paper, I was missing a pencil. While I was scrounging around for the pencil, the teacher told me not to bother. That Chris was the only one who turned in a paper, so she wasn't counting the quiz anyway. 

But I really wanted to complete the quiz, since I'm a political junky. 

Then, instead of it being a class, I realized I was at my job. For some strange reason I had to go into work at 9:30 at night but it had been tough trying to figure out where to park because I didn't know where the classroom was in this big university. 

It was supposed to be a quick trip into work, but before I knew it, it was 12:30 a.m.  I saw the company President leaving. Which was a guy I worked with last year. I ended up working until 1:30 and he was already coming back into work. I found this odd since he barely worked an eight hour day in real life. 

I was heading out of the building trying to find the right exit, when I was talking to a couple girls and they were looking out at the roof of another building at one of our better looking coworkers. It seemed to have been an enjoyable pastime. 

As I was trying to figure my way back to wherever it was I parked the car, I was wheeling a cart, much like the one we used to carry in our suitcases in the hotel Saturday night. I was going to use the cart to step up into our SUV.  Two male coworkers that I didn't recognize got into the elevator with me and for some strange reason they made me a bit nervous. they didn't want me to have the cart and I felt like I was going to need it for protection against them. They told me I could use their small step stool to get in my car and they wheeled the cart off the elevator. I worried I wouldn't be able to use the step stool to throw at them if I needed to. 

I told them I needed the step stool for the truck because I had back surgery. I have never had back surgery, but Bob did last year. 

I didn't end up using the cart, either for protection or for stepping up into the car.   When I got in the passenger seat, I was trying to figure out how Bob knew what time to pick me up since I hadn't called him to tell him I was ready. Nothing came to mind that I had driven myself to work, so why would he be picking me up. 

We were driving through a small town between our house and the grocery I like to go through when I realized that we had Bob's ex-wife in the car with us. 

I woke up to the sound of the sprinklers going off outside our bedroom window which we left open last night. 

My dreams never make any sense at all. 

If this doesn't scare the hell out of you, you are in the wrong country

Not Buying It.

So this guy was supposedly drifting out in the sea for the past 14 months. He can't remember his town in El Salvador or his phone number. 

All I can say is he must have had some REALLY good sunscreen. Looks rather pale to me. 

Thirty Six Years Ago

I was still living with my parents, had my first full time job as a billing clerk at Visiting Nurses Association when this hit. 

The drifts on our country road were higher than my head. It was the snowiest January on record for Indiana. 

Don't ask me why all these googled pics are black and white. We DID have color film in 1978. 

Ok. The color pics look almost the same as the black and white. 

It literally took until June for some of the snow piles to melt. 

Three weeks ago tomorrow (Sunday) we arrived here on sunny Fort Myers. It's been very cool just after we arrived. I've only had one day a spent a few hours at the pool. We. Still haven't made it to the beach. Supposed to be 80 degrees here on Monday, so that will be our first beach day. 

In the meantime, Indy is closing on that record snowfall January. It is now the second snowiest January on record and they have been experiencing sub zero temps. Only just a few more inches of snow this week and it will top 1978. 

To say I am not complaining about the cool temps here is an understatement. 

I HATE Indiana winters. Apparently I would have hated this winter only second to 1978. So far. 

Where Psychos Tread

We first began to hear complaints about him shortly after the Homeowners Association (HOA) was turned over from the builders to the homeowners and the HOA board was elected. 

He was chosen as the board president. Let's call him Mr. French. Not after the beloved butler on Family Affair, but because he is from......you get the point. 

For the most part, we dismissed the complaints. The complex was being kept nice, money spent for upkeep and maintenance. I wasn't thrilled that they maintained the same property managers that the builders used though. I had had a run in with them with our first renters. Nasty emails threatening to deny our renters mainly because they were insisting upon obtaining the renter's social security number and bank account information. 

For one thing, the rent was due to us, not the property manager. There was no cause for them to have this information.  And secondly, perhaps even more telling was the fact that we were renting to CANADIANS. They didn't have social security numbers. When I finally had it out over the phone with the property manager Nazi's, they complained that the renter didn't include the information on the second car. Except there WAS no second car. I sarcastically said, "do you honestly think they are driving TWO cars from CANADA?"  

If there is an industry scam anywhere, Florida property managers are it. Unless it's a big firm, more often then not, the person submits high maintenance bills from their relatives, $50 to change an outdoor resident entry light, etc. 

But I digress. 

Mr. French was on the board for the first couple of years. When the board changed, they hired a different property manager and that's when things began to get nasty.  Mr. French was furious over not being on the board, but he went really psycho when they found discrepancies with the former property manager and he was insistent they keep her.  

Not sure of the data she took with her, but she provided him with everyone's email address in the complex and that's when the bombarding of the email began. 

Let me be clear, this man is not stupid. He once owned his own computer company and apparently made quite a bit of money from it. He is also well versed on the laws on HOA's in Florida. That doesn't mean he abides by them, but uses them to spread lies about the board ever since his unelection. 

By law, a resident is allowed to inspect all the records of the HOA on the premises of the property manager. After his sweetie was fired, he went to the new property manager and preceded to take all the records HOME. I believe she tried to stop him, but to no avail. 

It was at this time that someone located the information that is now readily available online. Arrest records with mugshots. Mr. French had previously lived in a related community just north of us where he also was on the board. When that much larger community began having issues with him, unelecting him also, he had a encounter with either a lady on the board or the property manager. 

In short, he assaulted her and was arrested. I'm assuming that's why he moved to our complex. 

And became our problem. 

Every couple months or so, we get an email from him charging all kinds of malfeasance of the board. As an example, a couple years ago the County Commissioners found a drainage ditch was not up to code. Our builder is long ago bankrupt and the county gave us a couple years to fix it.  Last year, the time was up and the county indicated we must fix the expensive issue or the complex would lose their Certificate of Occupancy. 

Yeah, I think we all know what that means.  But apparently. Mr. French suddenly wasn't aware of the laws, saying that the board could not spend the $30,000 without 2/3's of the residents agreeing. Which is simply only true if it's a voluntary expense. 

Last month he sent an email that said because the available immediate cash dropped $125k, that they board was "missing cash". That's like saying because you had $3k in your bank account last month and paid your $2k property tax bill leaving you with $1k this month, you "lost" $2k. 

He has threatened and harassed every person who has been on the board since his booting. He now files lawsuit after lawsuit. Last year he insisted the board refund fees because they had "excess cash".  When. Mr. French discovered he couldn't sue the board for everyone's refund, he sued for his own.  Of course the board cannot refund one person's fee and not everyone's not to mention there was not excess cash, only slightly above the required reserves. It seems Mr. French has forgotten about reserves. 

Monday was the board elections for 2014. Of course he ran again, sending more lies and accusations out before the election. It has gotten so scary, that we have one of the largest residents to sit next to him, just in case. 

He interrupted the meeting twice, first claiming that one of those running for the board was ineligible. First, his English is very poor and no one could understand the word "ineligible". Second, last year the association 2/3's this time had voted that the board members could run for more than two consecutive terms. He knows all this, but doesn't care. It was a little like attempting to pull out the immunity idol after the tribal council vote. 

After the election results were announced he stood up again and then didn't like it that everyone groaned, loudly. He said that the board should settle one of his lawsuits because it would cost the association $30k to defend his $500 idiotic lawsuit. 

Then he complained about being served a 30 page cease and desist and protective order from the board.  The board has retained the same attorney the assaulted woman had from the other complex and he believes they can enjoin him from even attending the meetings.  A guy behind me yelled out, "how does it feel."  Appropriate?  Maybe not, but he has harassed so many people here no one cares. 

I really really wanted to yell out, "I'll GIVE you $500 to put your place up for sale and MOVE". Alas, I am not the type to do that. 

We sat in the back and during the entire meeting I was thinking that it was good there were so many people in front of us. Honestly, no one would be shocked if this guy shows up and starts shooting everyone in sight. 

I have no idea why one person apparently loves to start serious issues with his own neighbors everywhere he goes. Well, other than he may well be mentally ill.  Last time we were here, one of the neighbors on the board came and looked at the gun Bob had recently bought. That's how scary this  Frenchman is. 

Out of 187 units, he got six votes. 

(Yes, I could get him to stop sending email to us, but then I wouldn't be aware of his crazy rantings.). 

First Week

We arrived down here last Sunday, thankfully escaping the most snow in Indy since the blizzard of '78. Then they had record cold, dropping down to a balmy -46 degrees chill factor. Apparently the city was at a standstill early last week as we were settling into our home.  I watched the national weather reports out of Indy while enjoying the Florida warmth. 

We made it to the Florida/Georgia line by the time we stopped on Saturday. We headed over to eat at a local Applebee's in enough time to watch the Colts pull an amazing comeback for the wildcard seat in the playoffs. Unfortunately, they botched the game last night. 

I spent Monday arranging the clothes we brought down. Normally they are just tossed in a drawer since we only stay a week or so. 

On Tuesday, the kitchen was driving me crazy. It was okay for a vacation kitchen, but I like to cook and being here for three months means more stocked pantry. 

It cooled down to the 50's here on Wednesday, so we hibernated a little.  We went to the seafood market for some shrimp and I have been making wonderfully fresh shrimp cocktail for a bit of a snack. 

Amazingly enough we haven't even been to the beach yet. I did get to the pool yesterday in the late afternoon. 

It's early yet in the season, but we aren't used to all these old people. My SUV was nearly rammed on three separate occasions in parking lots on Tuesday. 

We rode our bikes through the nearby park yesterday. Whew, when we bought them last July, I hadn't been on a bike in probably 40 years, so it took me a little while to feel comfortable with not falling off. We were out about an hour on them yesterday, taking a few rest stops. I want to get back intot he habit of doing that every morning. 

Bob went to the pool around 2 today and it was so packed that he came back until 3. Pretty sure we're going to head to the beach tomorrow. You have to go over the bridge to Fort Myers or Sanibel early this time of year or you're stuck in traffic and cannot find a place to park. 

He decided to run down to Naples to look at a car and I'm sitting here watching Manning and the Broncos int he playoff while looking out here. 

Last Friday they had a cocktail party in the clubhouse. Bob knows quite a few more people here than I do because he's spent a lot more time here than I have. I ended up meeting a lot of really nice people. The ladies luncheon out is next Thursday in Sanibel. I think there are close to 30 women signed up. I'll feel more comfortable now that I've gotten to know a few of them. 

Unfortunately, just a few days before we left, I had an endoscopy and they knocked out a filling in my front tooth. I was thinking I could wait until we got back home, but it's driving me berserk. Got a name of a good dentist from one of our neighbors. Hope they can get me in very soon. 

My sister is on the other side of the earth as we speak. She landed late yesterday (today in India) to see our India family. She went all by herself and needless to say, I was very concerned. The good thing was that she flew through Dubai, so it was a bit safer than her last visit 8 years ago when she and my nephew flew into Mumbai.  

Supposed to be 82 here tomorrow. I may never want to go back. 

And a House is Not a Home

Late February I think it was, I lightly put my foot down to Bob and said, "No more someday, this next winter we are heading south". 

It was precipitated because he was about to undergo some major back surgery removing a tumor that had deteriorated his left foot, calf and eventually half his backside. That deterioration wasn't coming back and we had been saying for years that instead of renting our coach home in Fort Myers we would someday get the hell out of Dodge. Actually, Indy not Dodge, but you get the drift. 

Our original plan was to leave last weekend, but an unexpected family health issue (temporary) delayed us until tomorrow morning. 

January first brought a significant amount of snow here, close to 7 or 8 inches. We picked up our grandkids before it started and then kept them until today. Early this week was too soon to do more than pack up most stuff, but not early enough to get some final cleaning and last minute packing. 

Not realizing we would be lucky to have the grandkids for two days left us with taking them home this morning and then running hither and yon and floor and bathroom cleaning for this afternoon. Bob was hoping we would get the place dusted which I told him was really kinda pointless given that there would likely be an inch of dust by the time we get back. 

We've handed out keys to family, friends and neighbors, installed a security camera and alarm and will have neighbors watch and keep the driveway plowed so the house does not look vacant. 

It seems so different than when we leave our place in Fort Myers. While it's decked out with everything we need, there is nothing there that can't be replaced with an insurance check if something happened. 

We moved to this house a year after we were married. His girls were raised here, 22 of our nearly 23 years have been here. All our memories are here. This is the only constant house in our grandkids history, their parents and other grandparents have all moved several times. 

Last summer I was sitting outside with my grandson when I mentioned something about moving from this house in a few years. He looked at me like I was crazy. He said, "You will never leave here". In his 11 years this was his constant. He couldn't imagine us EVER living anywhere else. It broke my heart a little. 

As does this trip south. And I don't know why. 

Believe me, I cannot wait to get to warm weather. They are now predicting near blizzard conditions here starting late Saturday night and probably continuing into Monday. By the time the snow starts up again Saturday we should be at the Florida/Georgia line. 

I plan on irritating every one of my fb friends and family with weather updates until April. Pictures of the pool and the beach and the fresh shrimp and fish. Maybe a quick trip over to Fort Lauderdale for an impromptu cruise. 

What is this?  It's almost like a life that we've only dreamed of. Tomorrow starts the "someday" we've talked about for years. 

And while we've locked, secured, alarmed this house of ours, I feel sad for it. 

Does a home ever get peoplesick?

I'm getting better

Looking back on old pics my nephew is digging up, I wished it didn't take me 30 years to realize that I should have loved seeing some of these pics back then. 

Saw this one tonight, taken 3 1/2 years ago. 

Tonight I decided I really like this pic. Of both of us. 

Songs for Christmas

This is running through my head tonight. But my favorite Christmas song follows this one.

 

 

 

Who said I didn't decorate for Christmas?

Merry Christmas to one and all. 

And That's All I Have to Say About That

 

Those Three Little Words

Made me laugh. 

Ho Ho Ho

Or so it goes. 

I used to decorate for days on end. Loved Christmas time. Maybe it was because my mom had always made sure we had great Christmases when we were growing up. Even though she didn't really like Christmas, she used to make sure it was one time of year where we felt like anything was possible. 

Dad's birthday was Christmas Day and over the years, our Christmas become Christmas Eve night. Later years we would have some type of birthday for dad. I always thought he probably got cheated out of his birthday when he was a kid, but growing up in Newton Stewart, Indiana in the 30's and 40's in a house that had no running water and with at least nine living brothers and sisters probably didn't allow any birthday celebrations no matter when it might have fallen. 

Today I was upstairs in the office printing off a study guide for a real estate brokerage class when I looked into the desk drawer and found this picture. 

I have no idea why this picture wasn't in the big box where all the other printed pictures are, but there it was, reminding me of what I looked like when I was 32, freshly married and sitting with my gorgeously handsome new husband. 

A mix of emotions. This was our first married Christmas together. We had met in October the year before, engaged that next January and married in May. Yeah, it was one whirlwind episode.  I think about how little I knew about my husband. If I had known him longer I would have realized that making a decision, even a tiny one takes him forever. 

If I had known that, I would have been shocked that he was even considering getting married that quickly especially given that he had custody of his girls age 9 and 13.  Yet we both knew it was right. 

I had just built a small house for myself and had never considered that I would live there only 10 months before moving to the another side of Indy to start a new life. The Christmas before this picture he had given me a pretty diamond ring, not an engagement ring, but it was a pretty amazing gift given that we had only known each other three months. 

The events of the year between that first Christmas and this one was a bit overwhelming. 

This picture was taken at his sister's house during their family Christmas party. 

What I most remember is how hard to was to smile and make everyone believe it was a happy Christmas.  I remember leaving the room a few times to keep the tears at bay and the overwhelming despair. I didn't want everyone in my new family to think I was someone who was completely broken. 

When I look at this picture of these two young, in love people I think of one thing. 

My father was dying. 

He had about six weeks left to live. And I was fighting against all reason to convince myself he would beat the liver cancer. 

We spent one last Christmas with dad. 

And Christmas has never been the same.  I wish it was different. The combination of his Christmas birthday and those horrid last days during his last Christmas just won't allow me to go back to enjoying this time of year anymore. 

This post turned darker than what I intended. I have the best family I know and we do still enjoy our Christmas Eve, a tradition we refuse to give up no matter how massive our family grows.  It is THE Chrsitmas tradition that means the most. We don't sit around and mourn over the imaginary empty chair. We've grown past the grief, so please don't misinterpret this unexpected post simply because I saw a 22 year old picture today. 

It's the idea of feeling like this was taken yesterday and recognizing those young people and how quickly we have changed so much that our great niece had no clue who we were. 

When her mother showed her this pic tonight, she thought her favorite uncle Bob was "a young Santa". And so I had to be Mrs. Claus. At least that makes me smile. 

Not Hoosier Hospitality

Today, it was announced that this next Super Bowl at Jersey's Met Life Stadium would not allow any tailgating before or during the big game. 

Ironically, when Indy hosted the Super Bowl in 2012, a local reporter was broadcasting that morning with a group of tailgators from of all places, New Jersey. 

The group of visitors were lamenting the fact that they forgot to bring the hot sauce to their feast they were busy grilling. If they had left to get some, they would have missed their prime parking space they grabbed by coming very early that morning. 

When the reporter was back on the air in the same location only 30 minutes later, the Jersey guys were estatic. No fewer than five different Hoosiers had seen the report, jumped in the vehicles and drove downtown to bring these perfect strangers some hot sauce.  They couldn't imagine a town where  people displayed such hospitality to ordinary visitors. 

I wonder today if those Jersey guys were thinking about our hospitality when they discovered their own city won't even allow anyone to tailgate at their own Super Bowl. 

Jersey must be a bunch of losers. 

Pics of the week of tailgating and partying during Indy's Super Bowl Week. 

This is OUTSIDE on Georgia Street, weeklong concerts while they closed off several downtown streets.

 

Bet we get that Super Bowl selection again. There was not one bad review of our town's biggest party ever. 

You can only do so much when you have old people to work with

At least the black and white covers up a few of my wrinkles. 

If Only

We had leaders of integrity. 

Rest now, sir. Just rest. Your work is done. 

I Can't Dance

Don't ask me. 

When we were married ten years, we took a cruise on Princess Cruise Lines. It was an older crowd than Royal Caribbean, but a beautiful ship. 

I noticed a couple that was likely in their fifties. They were just an average couple that looked as though they might rarely go away to together.  One evening we were in a nightclub that was playing slower songs and we watched this couple dance together. They were so fascinating to watch. They were really good. They knew the steps and they were thoroughly enjoying themselves. I envied their ability to move around the dance floor. 

I will dance a slow dance if I'm in the middle of a crowd so no one sitting in the sidelines can see me.  Actually that's the only way Bob will dance. We don't dance around in some special steps, we just move back and forth. There have been times when I've wanted to actually learn how to dance. But anytime I've tried to learn any steps, I find that I am standing with my balance on the leg that's supposed to be raising up.   That makes for some awkward quickstep to try to shift my balance which never ends well. 

Several years ago I was by the dance floor at a wedding when one of the 20 something groomsmen grabbed my hand and dragged me out on the dance floor. I was dying laughing telling the cute boy that I couldn't dance. 

Well, he COULD.  He ignored my protests and pulled me out to the floor. I'm thinking this has to be some kind of spectacle with some middle age woman dancing with this young boy. 

And what I found really fascinating is I could tell which direction we were moving just a split second before we were moving that way. And I knew why I knew. He placed his hand on my back and with that touh he was indicating which direction he was going to move next. Now I doubt I would have been deemed to be any kind of dancer, but I could at least tell which direction I should be shifting my weight to. It was actually kind of cool. 

I still envy those couple that get out and dance and enjoy their time out on the floor.  We rarely dance anywhere and we still occupy a couple of steps in either direction. 

Thorough Examination

Well we're back at it again. 

Deciding again on health insurance. No, you are not imagining things, it was just a few weeks ago we went through this nonsense. 

Our COBRA expired in October. That was the first of the sicker shock.  A huge increase in premiums along with a horrible deductible that also included all the prescription costs. A couple weeks ago we received notice that this "great" policy with a premium of $558 (mine only) was no longer available, so Aetna now offers an equally lousy plan for a minimum of SEVEN HUNDRED AND EIGHT BUCKS A MONTH!  

Some time in October I was able to get far enough along on the healthcare.gov site to see quotes. The only insurance company available to me was Anthem. Lowest price approximately $550 a month with a $6000 deductible. I called Anthem directly and the lady that answered the enrollment number listed in their site as a place to ask questions couldn't answer any questions. She suggested I called Member Services. I told her I was not a member, but she was virtually useless. 

They did have a online chat service. I needed to find out what would happen when we are in Florida this winter. The online chat indicated that I would not be covered in Florida except for emergencies. He explained there is no way to be covered in both Florida and Indiana. 

How incredibly stupid is that?  

Later that day Bob gave me a number of a State Farm agent who was the daughter of someone he worked with. 

When I called her I wasn't expecting much. I explained I was looking for coverage for both Indiana and Florida. The health insurance company (which wasn't State Farm) was not included on the list on the exchange. So apparently there are insurance companies that may offer health insurance that you will not find on the exchange. 

I found that if I signed up for coverage starting now, I could lock in 2013 rates for all of 2014. The rates were good. I decided on a $466 premium with a $2,500 deductible. It's amazing how you start thinking that's a good price after being offered $780 with a $6k deductible. 

Yesterday I got an email from the agent that said the insurance company needed to have answers to health questions. When I called the company I found that I had just subjected myself to an hour and a half proctological examination. 

It was brutal. To the point of asking about medications I took five years ago. After a long drawn out discussion about the reasons for a full hysterectomy in 2007 (solid mass on an ovary) she followed up with a question if I was seeing a fertility specialist or was planning any fertilization treatments. 

I'm NOT JOKING!  

It was the most painful phone call I have had since a relative died. 

So now I wait two to five days to see if they now will adjust the premium. Yeah, I didn't think that was supposed to happen either. 

And we have to wait for that decision to make a decision for Bob's Medicare Supplement because if I am forced to stay on his insurance of $780, I am only gifted that policy if he stays on his former employer's retirement health insurance. 

It still amazes me that the idiots that think this Obamacare kept the costs down relate a normal insurance increase of $20 a month to the 50% - 100% increase. Along with the outrageous amounts of the deductibles. And let's not forget that now your prescriptions are part of the deductible. 

Thank You

All the Kings Horses

It's over. And the sooner we realize that the better. 

So last night Obama decided to grace us with the only type of apology that the man knows. He's sorry that anyone is in a predicament with their health insurance if they relied on his words. 

If you can call that an apology. 

I saw a 2010 video today of Eric Cantor in a meeting with our leader pointing out the issue of insured Americans losing heir health insurance. Cantor indicated that possible 10 million people would lose their health insurance under the plan. He pleaded with Obama to pass a law that would prevent the very issue everyone is now screaming about. 

Obama then said that it's just a small number. (Except for the 10 MILLION people who have lost their insurance). And he said that "they" would find all their plans on the exchanges would be less expensive than the ones they were losing. 

Except that was another lie. Most are considerably more expensive, both in the premiums and the deductible. 

And we heard him last night say he wanted to "fix it".  

Everyone is calling for him to fix it. 

And he can't. 

We are closing in now to mid-November. Now when do you sign up for your new health care plans?  Either you already are or you are doing it now. 

He exempted the employer mandate early enough that it might have made a difference. 

You see, although he wants to rule the world, he forgets that he does not (yet) rule businesses. He's trying, mind you, but he cannot issue an edict and expect it to be immediately carried out. 

So let's assume for a minute that as of tomorrow, the individual mandate is delayed for a year. Now think about this for a minute. Let's say they pull the website and really fix it. Just where do you think that puts us right now?

Pretend you are one of those who have had their policy abolished by Obamacare. You have received your notice that you will not be covered as of January 1st. What happens to you?  

Hasn't anyone realized that the policies are issued by insurance companies.  These companies have had to analyze what they could offer under this POS law.  I'm sure they have calculated their best estimates of what the premiums and deductibles would need to be, gotten their management's approval, drafted up the changes needed for their systems and actually have TESTED their systems to be sure they could go live with the changes by January 1st. 

It is too late to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. 

The insurance companies are past the time they could offer any other policies for 2014, program the polices, offer them as an option and have anyone enrolled in them by 2014. 

There are millions of us responsible Americans that can not even stand the thought of being uninsured for even a day. 

Wanna know how serious we take insurance?  After Bob semi-retired, he took a sales job with the Big Box Store he worked for 38 years  that paid less than nothing, certainly less than minimum wage for a year to be able to continue his seniority and our health insurance.  The insurance benefits were more than what he was paid. 

So now we have maybe 10 million people facing a lack of health insurance come the new year. 

The ACA plans may be absolutely horrible, but if you take down the website, those people now have NO insurance option.

NONE. 

He can't fix it. And he doesn't want to anyway. 

And it's only gonna get worse.  

And thanks to Ed for reminding me of a message from Bill in Kentucky that was sent to Bret Baier during the Special Report. Read on the air. 

"Putting things in perspective: March 21st 2010 to October 1 2013 is 3 years, 6 months, 10 days.  December 7, 1941 to May 8, 1945 is 3 years, 5 months, 1 day.  What this means is that in the time we were attacked at Pearl Harbor to the day Germany surrendered is not enough time for this progressive federal government to build a working webpage.  Mobilization of millions, building tens of thousands of tanks,  planes, jeeps, subs, cruisers, destroyers, torpedoes, millions upon millions of guns, bombs, ammo, etc. Turning the tide in North Africa,  Invading Italy, D-Day,  Battle of the Bulge, Race to Berlin - all while we were also fighting the Japanese in the Pacific!!  And in that amount of time - this administration can't build a working webpage."

Still Going Strong

It seemed as if it was maybe twice a year when I was a kid that a certain song would blare out of our console TV with the words,  "Oh Lamb of God, I come.   I come. ". 

Decades of the honorable Reverend Graham calling the masses to "Come up.  Come up". 

Tomorrow night he will grace our TV once again. At 10 pm, Rev. Graham special, My Hope America will air on Fox News. 

Let me clarify. 

With the exception of Graham, I have found that all TV "preachers" to be horrible charlatans.  

I related this story over a GEEZ a month or so ago. 

Since marrying Bob, now going on close to 23 years ago, I had never spent a night home alone until six years ago when he went down to our newly closed Fort Myer home to continue decorating the place. (Yes, surprisingly he is very chick-like in his decorating skills, so I can trust him on this task). 

The first night alone in our two story house I was not afraid, but I was not overly secure either. I leave a lot of lights on in the house when he's gone, even now. I want it to look like no one can enter by hiding in the darkness of an unlit house. (I also have a loaded gun on my nightstand and by my chair downstairs. :D. )

At that time I also decided I wanted to have the TV left on all night.  

That first night I woke up around 1 and our bedroom TV was then on someone I had never heard of. This scum was standing in an absolutely humongous arena. 

Then I began to listen to his words. He was telling the crowd that Jesus wanted all of them to be rich. And he wasn't referring to a quality of life rich, he was talking MONEY.  MONEY RICH.  and that was all he talked about for the entire time I listened. 

I sat up and was just appalled. Having a restless night anyway, I got up and googled him. And I was sickened at another scum convincing so many people to send him money so God could make them rich. 

I imagine Ol' Joel has those stairs behind him lined in gold. 

I am constantly surprised by how many people that I know personally that think Olsteen is not a Jimmy Swaggart wannabe. Well, actually he's probably past Swaggart in money terms.  I cannot even stand to look at his super whitened teeth. 

I would first send my money to Nigeria over this scummy scam. 

I hope I can wash that image of his fake smile from my memory tomorrow when the 95 year old Graham's special airs tomorrow night. 

I've set my DVR.  I hope I'm not disappointed. 

If I've offended anyone who just loves Olsteen! I really sorry. But I'm more sorry that you could think he was legit. 

Red Neck Halloween

One fall evening several years ago we went with some friends to the Speedrome to watch another friend race in a figure eight. 

For those more refined readers of mine, red necks really do go to a track and take their junk cars and race figure eights along with other drivers. In case I need to clarify further, that means you could more likely than not encounter other cars heading for the same intersection of the eight that you are. 

It's a matter of playing chicken, do you speed up to avoid the car heading for that same piece of real estate or do you slow down and let the other guy hit it and have some braver driver behind you get ahead of you?

Yes, we are in need of serious entertainment here in the flyover state. 

We sat far up in the stands and pulled our jackets tight around up to avoid the breeze. We noticed that we could look below the stands and directly below up open for all to see was the women's restrooms. We made sure not to visit the lovely accommodations given that anyone could look underneath the bleachers and get a rather gross view. 

Midway through the second race one guy was moving toward our end of the eight and just received a light glancing blow to his car as he raced through the eight. He came to a stop and the retaining wall just a few feet from us. 

Everyone in the stands could see the guy was not moving. 

At all. 

At first we thought maybe he had hit his head however when he did not move for a full minute everyone in the stands was waving down the officials in the race.   When a medic came to check on him, he summoned an ambulance and they worked on him as they hauled him away. We later learned he had a heart attack on the race field and unfortunately didn't make it. 

It was late when the races were over and we went back to the pits to see our buddy who had been in one of the races. 

As we weaved our way through the mass of junked cars we noticed a creepy looking guy with long stringy gray hair hanging around.  When he turned around, I tried not to keep my eyes from bulging out. 

Where his nose should have been was a huge open hole that appeared to go straight back. The shock of seeing him, especially that he just seemed creepy if he had had a nose was just a little too icky amongst all the other red necks in the pits. 

Our friend who was in the race explained the guy had just gotten out of prison. He had murdered his girlfriend and then attempted suicide by placing the gun in his mouth. However as can happen in those cases, he didn't have it aimed straight up to his brain, it merely shot off his nose from his face. 

It still gives me creeps just thinking about him. 

Hope you stay clear of noseless murderers this Halloween. 

Flying South

So today I did what I hate doing every fall. I took down the hummingbird feeders.  In Indiana, you typically won't see those ruby throated beauties until around late April. They are just scattered here and there in the following weeks and come August they are thick.   By early October you leave them up hoping you might be giving some late mover a drink on his way home. 

I usually set out three to four feeders and have planted several perennials that attract hummingbirds and butterflies. I place the feeders where I can see at least two of them from my kitchen. 

Last year, we also attracted one of those sucky-toed toads and found him attached to one of the sun room windows. 

Didn't see hide nor sticky toe of him this year. 

What kept striking me as odd as I was fighting off the nasty bees reclaiming my feeders was that it appears we might actually really spend the winter in Florida. We're expecting a bit of frost this week and I just despise cold weather. 

Will it really happen. Packing up as much as will fit in the SUV immediately after Christmas and driving 2 days and living in beautiful weather and eating fresh seafood for 3 months??????  

Possibly checking on last minute cruises out of Fort Lauderdale or Miami since it's only a two hour drive away.  

Nah, I'll believe it when I see it. 

And in other news.  

I decided to start a new sourdough starter yesterday. Easy really,  1/2 cup warm water and 1/2 cup bread flour in a container and stir.  Add some more each day and remove some and in a couple weeks you should have some sourdough starter. 

I picked the last of some too tiny heirloom tomatoes and a couple of poblano peppers I have growing beside the garage. 

Tonight Indy is hosting the War of 1812. I'm sure most do not care, but our beloved Peyton Manning, the former QB for the Indianapolis Colts will be playing his best season ever against the Colts as a Denver Bronco. Indy retired Peyton's #18 when they traded him and brought on a promising rookie, Andrew Luck #12. Thus the War of 1812 was born. 

The Lucas Oil Stadium has a retractable roof that is rarely open. I was wondering why at 59 degrees they would open the roof tonight and come to find out Peyton hated the roof open, so apparently to try to throw him off his game they have the roof open. 

They had a moment in the stadium with a big Thanks Peyton on the jumbo tron while the crowd stood and cheered for several minutes. He removed his Bronco helmet and was clearly a little choked up at being in Indy and playing against his old team for the first time. 

I know many don't give a rip, but it isn't that he brought this town to be a football town, it was that his charity work here was a force to be reckoned with. One year giving $70 mm to a local hospital alone. 

I have to say whenever Indy is highlighted for a special game! the city looks gorgeous. It's a nice city, clean and not too large. 

But it's still no fun in the winter. 

(Oh, and I hate the token women football commentators they insist in using on the sidelines. No one I know, male or female like them. )