Comfortable and mine

Mom has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. 6-9 months to live on a realistic scale, possibly a year or more on the hopeful scale.

I've been wondering if it wouldn't be better to know about it at the last minute and just have to deal with the grief. As it is I have to deal with the imminent doom and then the sorrow of loss. I guess either way it is out of my hands and I like to try to tell myself that in any bad situation. It really is out of my hands but unlike my coarse exterior I don't always believe in what I try to tell myself and others.

A lot of people have mentioned that if I need anything they are there for me. While I do appreciate what they are trying to say very few people know me at all. My wife is likely the only one that knows I might disappear for a few days after she passes. It's my own personal way of dealing with loss of any major magnitude. I don't know why I do it but I've done it all my life. I remember being in Louisville Kentucky looking for a baseball bat. I lived nowhere near there and had travelled likely 500 or 1000 miles to get there, I really don't know. I just remember being on the interstate and seeing the exit and thinking, I need a louisville slugger from Louisville. I'll be honest, I don't even know where Louisville is other than in Kentucky somewhere. I remember riding the backroads of West Virginia on another ocassion. I don't remember where but my goal was to get so lost I would never find my way back to wherever I just came from that I'd have to live there and come up with some way to make a living there.

Both of those were minor losses.

I don't want to lose my mother. I've been a self-proclaimed "Momma's boy" since I could talk. I don't have any problem with that label and I laugh in the face of those that try to use it against me. I don't just laugh, I laugh with ernest (or is it earnest, I don't know, I'm not looking it up.) I guess I can tell myself it is not fair all day and night long but it is fair. She's smoked like a chimney for as long as I remember. It is her time. She has never been in great health. It's just a damned shame that she finally got her life in order; Finally got a job she did. The last time Mom worked was when I was just out of high school. I think I influenced that by complaining about how things were at home and then setting out to get a job even while I was in high school. After high school I was working 6 days a week in a sawmill even hitchiking to and from work some days just to get there. Maybe she saw that spark in my eye to have money to spend on stupid shit and she got the same fever.

I remember buying rollerskates from the JC Penney catalog with one of my first few real checks. I'll never forget them. I used them for at least 10 years. One time I was wearing them in a rink in.. I have no idea where... but a guy in the bathroom said, "Hey, at least the wheels aren't wooden." I kind of got a chuckle out of it because they were mine. I bought them with my own money and I kept them up flawlessly. Sure, the boots were scuffed and the laces weren't Nike or Adidas brand but I kept the bearings up and had good wheels put on them. They were comfortable and they were mine. I think that might be my driving force in life. Comfortable and mine.

I guess in a way that describes my mom. I've always been comfortable with my mom. It's been a comfortable relationship and she's always been mine.

I don't know where my rollerskates ever got to but I know where my mom is. Hopefully I don't lose track of her like I did the rollerskates.

Not Really music

U2 shouldn't be considered real music.

I'd rather listen to just about anything other than U2. I'm not sure why I hate them. I would prefer opera over U2 though, and that's as low as it gets.

Disturbed

I guess things are kind of crazy for me right now. Maybe I need to make some sort of change in my life, I'm not really sure what to do. Last week I had a dream that my oldest son and I were riding a jet ski and go cart and then when we got back home there was a pair of hands in a bowl. Turns out they were my youngest son's hands. There was no blood on the hands or on his stumps. I remember calling 911 because my wife was so dissheveled.

Last night I dreamt that I had to kill my oldest son with a pair of scissors. I think it was something about his body was bad (cancer or something) and we were going to have his brain put in another body. He took it like a champ, like he does most things. He didn't even cry. He died in my arms and then I woke up in a mad sweat. Right before that I killed a alligator/crocodile/snake I don't recall. I hit it with a bottle and knocked it out and then stabbed it with the scissors that I killed my son with.

Maybe it is the cold we're all dealing with. I've not taken anything for it so I can't blame the dreams on the drugs. I've not taken any drugs at all other than some tylenol this morning for a toothache. I wonder if the toothache was what was happening. I really don't know what is bringing on these very morbid dreams but I wish I could stop them.

I have been having my normal type of dreams as well. One of my happier dreams last night was that we needed to bend a piece of rebar into a double helix. It had us puzzled and I don't know if we ever did figure out how to do it. That's a normal dream for me. A puzzle that is partially work related and often math related.

Death should stay out of my dreams and reality.

I am Americana

I guess I'm different than most.

I don't have a mule and her name isn't Sal.
But I sing about her anyway.

I want to float down the mississippi with my brother tom Sawyer
I want to live a life of boyish danger.

I like the quiet banjo when it's percussive and sharp

Mumbling words or making up new ones is sometimes not only necessary but preferable.

When I grow up I wanna be an old woman.

Me and my other 3

Noah's belly button tag came off yesterday. We get the feeling he ripped it off but we don't know for sure. I had put him in his swing facing the kitchen window because he loves to look at sunlight through his mostly closed eyes. He did a little fussing and when we got to him it was off and he had cut his mouth with his razor sharp nails. Those little nails are deadly and it seems that even if you have just trimmed them they grow back immediately. I wonder if filing would help. The thing is his skin is so soft the nail file would take the skin as well.

Thor and I went fishing yesterday morning. He noted that it was the best time ever. We didn't catch anything or even get any bites that we know of it but it was quite a lot of fun. We lost a couple of lures and a little bit of line, but we gained a memory -- a memory that will be relived many times if I have any say in the matter.