For those of you who read this every week, all three of you; you may have noticed I did not post a blog last week. I missed a week back in August as well, for a the pretty much the same reason; a visit to Ohio to see my Alzheimer's ridden father. But this time there was so much more.
I am well aware that the primary reason for this holiday season revolves around the majority of Americans acknowledgment of the birth of Jesus Christ, a small disputable fact as to the exact date notwithstanding. However, because of the tidings of joy we feel, obviously there are other important reasons this time of year brings certain emotions and feelings a little closer to the surface and we seem freer to pay them heed. In the last decade or so I certainly do.
I was able to make this trip with the two people I love most in this world; my son Cory and my wife Helen. That alone is enough to make the journey bearable regardless of its purpose. When you compound that with the wonderful people we were going to see, it softened the circumstance considerably.
Upon landing in Ohio, we were greeted with a minor snowstorm. I thought I had shrewdly stolen my rental car rate only to learn that the full size vehicle I had reserved was kindly upgraded to an Grand Cherokee for a mere fifteen dollars a day the Enterprise counterperson informed me. When she proposed the idea ("with the snow and all") I hardly balked, not realizing that fifteen dollars a day was almost double what I would have paid for the Toyota Camry. I was so glad I pulled the trigger so readily.
After a must pit stop at White Castle for a "Crave Case (30 burgers, half with cheese, half without)," we made our way to my Mom's; formerly my Step-Mother. When we arrived we found her shoveling the driveway so we wouldn't have to step in the five inches that had already fallen. She was delighted to see us, and we her. When the snow stopped later that afternoon, Cory finished shoveling the driveway and I did the front walk.
If I didn't make myself perfectly clear in the last Ohio trip blog, let me try now. My Mom is one of the nicest, kindest, fairest, and most giving individuals you'll ever meet. Ever. It hurt my heart to know what she has had to endure with my father and his illness these last years. If one person on this planet doesn't deserve it, it's her. After a wonderful evening with other family members, I prepared myself mentally the best I could for what awaited the next morning, which what I thought was the intention of this trip. Now I know taking Cory and Helen to see my father was only part of it.
We awoke to cloudy skies that matched my sense of melancholy, and the temperature in the teens. My father was now a resident of the Columbus Alzheimer's Center after a traditional nursing home proved inadequate to the task of housing him. My Mom was babysitting, but would meet us there, or so I thought. I was hoping maybe she'd be able to run interference for me since I didn't really know what awaited us upon our arrival. Alas, she was held up, but now as I play the scene over in my head, perhaps it was fate that had a hand in us going it alone.
I thought I had prepared, that's what I get for thinking. My father had deteriorated so dramatically in the last four months -though my Mom had tried her best over the phone to keep me abreast- I was shocked/devastated/saddened, all of the above. Nevertheless, the emotion that I felt most strongly was the love I had for my father, my son, and my wife...and then I felt it for every family member that has had to confront/deal with what has morphed my father from a vibrant man to literally a shadow of his former self.
I did my best to be a good soldier for Helen and Cory, but I'm here to tell you it's one of the hardest things I've ever done. Talking about holding on by your fingernails...Christ. Outside it started to snow and I thought of the song "The Sky is Crying;" (George Thorogood's version).
I was requested by my dear friend Tom Rowlands, to call him when we had finished our visit. I did, and promptly fell apart. Tom was compassionate and understanding, and I was grateful for that. Hell, I was grateful that he was on the other end of the phone at that precise moment. He inquired when would we be heading over to his house about thirty minutes away. I said I'd give him a holler when we were on our way. We needed time to gather ourselves but I didn't tell Tom that.
We made our way into Columbus proper. I thought maybe everyone, my wife in particular since she was born in Germany, would enjoy a trip to the German Village section of the city. Tom had taken me there back in August. I vaguely remembered how to get there, much less the restaurant we patronized; Schmidt's. But find it I did. Schmidt's, an authentic German restaurant was established in 1880. I thought Cory and Helen would get a kick out of it. Little did I know that the items Helen ordered would stir fond emotional remembrances of her Mom's cooking. After what we had just been through, everybody's emotions were close to the surface. I was grateful that I made the right choice, though it felt like I had little to do with the decision to go there. After sating ourselves, we made our way to Tom's in a much better frame of mind.
What a wonderful visit with wonderful people. Tom's wife Cindi greeted us with open arms. Talk about someone making others feel comfortable. Annie, Tom's youngest, was home from the University of Kentucky, and she was just as nice and pleasant and congenial as Tom and Cindi's other three children. How the fuck did they do that I wondered. Each kid nicer and as talented as the next. Geez! After a terrific visit, a wonderful meal. It's good to have good friends. That night on the ride back to my Mom's, the Christmas lights reflecting off the new fallen snow made me grateful it had snowed, and perhaps this was what we all needed to get us in the holiday spirit.
Saturday brought a visit to my brother Craig's house. Before we all went, we exchanged Christmas gifts with my Mom. She had found a box of my father's that contained Eastern Airlines promotion stuff. Cory and I got little planes, a Eastern bag tag, and a couple of Eastern bottle stoppers (remember those?). There were other gifts that may have cost more, but none of greater value. After some shopping with Cory, it was off to my brother's. It was so great to see him, his wife Tara, and the kids, Drew and Gabe. We had a delightful dinner that Craig had spent the entire day babysitting in the smoker. Afterward, we exchanged Christmas gifts. Friday morning seemed surreal and long ago.
That night Helen and Charlene went back to my mom's house, while Cory and I spent the night at Craig and Tara's. You see, Sunday Craig, Cory and I were going to Cincinnati to see my beloved Bengals take on the Cleveland Browns in the 75th Battle of Ohio.
It was ten degrees when I got up Sunday morning and made my way out to the garage to have a cigarette. It felt like ten below when I locked myself out of the house for about a half hour, not wanting to roust anyone from their slumber prematurely. It was seventeen degrees when we got to Cincinnati and I didn't give a shit. I was getting to see my Bengals on their home turf with my son and my brother. Fucking awesome doesn't begin to describe the way I felt. And after nearly three months without a win, the Bengals triumphed. Does anyone reading this sense a pattern here, or is it just me?
Monday we returned to Florida. I was sad, but yet felt a sense of inner euphoria that's hard to explain. My mind is already planning when we're all visiting again. We know we may have to, but that doesn't stop my feelings of how much I want to.
As most of you know I'm mighty glad to awaken each day on this side of the grass. This holiday, that awareness has been heightened due to the love of family, friends, and the gratitude that comes in knowing how precious each day we have is, and how fleeting those days truly are. My Dad will be okay, and so will my Mom. For that matter we all will be, we know the inevitable outcome. If you need me to explain my reason's for this season, read this again.
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