Thursday, March 19, 2009
Long Nights
Sometimes I prefer not to know when something bad is about to happen. At times I'd rather know after it has happened. When you learn that things might go bad suddenly it turns into a long wait. No one wants to feel like they are sitting by helplessly waiting for someone to die. They'd like to think of it as waiting for things to get better, waiting for a change. When the odds are stacked up against someone it really does feel like you are just waiting to be crushed by the inevitable.
I can't sleep. I haven't been able to sleep much since Tuesday morning. On Monday night I had this feeling I'd never see the man I know as my dad again. I was half tempted to call him, but I dismissed it.
Truth be told I've seen more of my father in law over the past ten years than I have my own dad. In his own way I suppose he's doted on me in small ways that one would their own; I have some damn fine and expensive art supplies that I only dreamed about at some points. He's taken care of my children as if I was his own and done the same for me when I needed it. In a way I guess there may have been some premonition there.
I could of lived with out it and this damn long night that is far from over. If Rob hadn't of called to tell me what the doctors had said to him I probably would of fallen asleep by now. A 20% chance of making it through the night isn't very good odds. I had thought about telling the children, but I felt it best to let them go to bed. The last thought before falling asleep shouldn't wondering if they would see their grandfather again.
I'm keeping my hopes up, but I am trying to prepare myself for the worst. I think out of the lot of us I've seen the most people go. I will have to be a rock through this one right next to Rob.
I can't sleep. I haven't been able to sleep much since Tuesday morning. On Monday night I had this feeling I'd never see the man I know as my dad again. I was half tempted to call him, but I dismissed it.
Truth be told I've seen more of my father in law over the past ten years than I have my own dad. In his own way I suppose he's doted on me in small ways that one would their own; I have some damn fine and expensive art supplies that I only dreamed about at some points. He's taken care of my children as if I was his own and done the same for me when I needed it. In a way I guess there may have been some premonition there.
I could of lived with out it and this damn long night that is far from over. If Rob hadn't of called to tell me what the doctors had said to him I probably would of fallen asleep by now. A 20% chance of making it through the night isn't very good odds. I had thought about telling the children, but I felt it best to let them go to bed. The last thought before falling asleep shouldn't wondering if they would see their grandfather again.
I'm keeping my hopes up, but I am trying to prepare myself for the worst. I think out of the lot of us I've seen the most people go. I will have to be a rock through this one right next to Rob.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
St. Patrick's Day
"The things that matter most in life are the things that blind side you on some idle Tuesday."
So the most publicized speech from my graduating year went. This token of advice rang true once again this morning. Around six in the morning I woke up to the sound of a persistent ring. Rings are always persistent when your sixth sense tells you it's something important or someone who feels they are. This was important.
My mother in law was on the phone, "Mel can I talk to Bobby, it's Mom." During weak moments she refers to herself as my Mom. I knew something was wrong from the start. Half asleep I passed the phone off to the Captain. He hung up the phone with a sigh and slept a little longer. Then another call sometime later. This time he was up and out the door.
His father had indigestion last night shortly after we had dinner. This morning it still hadn't gone away and his pain was worse. He decided to go to the ER at St. Josephs next to NASA. Within an hour we found out they caught the start of a third heart attack. He was medi-vaced to Methodist Memorial in Houston. He is having angioplasty and in stable condition.
Right now Rob is driving his mother around. The first time this happened he was the last to know; the second time he was eight thousand miles away. This time he is here and taking control of everything. Corbin is out in the cold feeling awful and riding his bike. His last words to his grandfather were the kind muddled with preteen angst and immature glares. Bobby is doing his own thing, the apathetic shell of Aspergers with an analytical core.
Me, I just said good bye to the Captain and his mom. They came by to talk to the children and let me know what was going on for the moment. She reached out to give me a big hug when she saw me, I could tell she needed it and I realized I need it too. After handing his mother a book to read we said our goodbyes. I didn't have any romance novels but I did hand her Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt. It's not her normal reading material, but it has yet to disappoint anyone.
All of this changes everything. I don't know where anyone will be in the next month. The Patriarch might not make it through, which means drastic changes around here. He was the first to even like me in the family and has always stuck up for my end. I don't know exactly what and how I'll feel when the time comes.
So the most publicized speech from my graduating year went. This token of advice rang true once again this morning. Around six in the morning I woke up to the sound of a persistent ring. Rings are always persistent when your sixth sense tells you it's something important or someone who feels they are. This was important.
My mother in law was on the phone, "Mel can I talk to Bobby, it's Mom." During weak moments she refers to herself as my Mom. I knew something was wrong from the start. Half asleep I passed the phone off to the Captain. He hung up the phone with a sigh and slept a little longer. Then another call sometime later. This time he was up and out the door.
His father had indigestion last night shortly after we had dinner. This morning it still hadn't gone away and his pain was worse. He decided to go to the ER at St. Josephs next to NASA. Within an hour we found out they caught the start of a third heart attack. He was medi-vaced to Methodist Memorial in Houston. He is having angioplasty and in stable condition.
Right now Rob is driving his mother around. The first time this happened he was the last to know; the second time he was eight thousand miles away. This time he is here and taking control of everything. Corbin is out in the cold feeling awful and riding his bike. His last words to his grandfather were the kind muddled with preteen angst and immature glares. Bobby is doing his own thing, the apathetic shell of Aspergers with an analytical core.
Me, I just said good bye to the Captain and his mom. They came by to talk to the children and let me know what was going on for the moment. She reached out to give me a big hug when she saw me, I could tell she needed it and I realized I need it too. After handing his mother a book to read we said our goodbyes. I didn't have any romance novels but I did hand her Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt. It's not her normal reading material, but it has yet to disappoint anyone.
All of this changes everything. I don't know where anyone will be in the next month. The Patriarch might not make it through, which means drastic changes around here. He was the first to even like me in the family and has always stuck up for my end. I don't know exactly what and how I'll feel when the time comes.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Kings
Kings brings back an old leitmotif of war and regalia with a contemporary face. Imagine the epic drama of Sir Thomas Malory splicing with the modern monarchy headlines and then imagine the backdrop being a mesh of Americana and Britannia; this is Kings.
Like most females I'm easily lured and swept away by dramas with knights sweeping princesses away. However, I think it makes the deal a little sweeter when there is some treason, treachery and blood shed.
Chris Egan(Eragon, Resident Evil: Extinction) and Ian McShane(Deadwood, Deathrace, Coraline) bring a new face to the tale of David and Goliath. In a time where there is turmoil between modern thinking, tradition and the church the show mirrors some of the thoughts and questions that occupy our own minds.
Not only was the show thought provoking but the aesthetic value completely sucked me in. Cinematography, costuming and the depictions of battle were beautiful. This show will either take home some Emmy awards next year or it will fade into obscurity after a good first season and end up on DVD in time for Christmas this year.
I have high expectations for this show after a stunning debut. It has a fifty fifty chance of letting me down. Keeping a biblical tale entertaining and fresh takes talent. Heroes has kept me sucked in despite the ups and downs, hopefully Michael Green can sustain Kings with that same magic he breathed into Heroes.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Lucky
The day came and went without a dent in the fender. Friday the 13th doesn't seem to carry the same sort of mythos that is did when I was younger. When asking a child about it their Friday the 13th they seemed lost, asking if they forgot a holiday.
Technology and greed ate it's face.
They'll get the Easter bunny shoved down their throats, Santa Claus and sometimes the tooth fairy but nothing else. If it doesn't surround money and gluttony the superstition and fun mythos dies. Certainly Friday the 13th isn't a great big deal, it seems to be more of an urban legend that's been there since God knows when. It's no chupacabra, but it is another part of the American fabric that seems a little more dead year after year.
Technology and greed ate it's face.
They'll get the Easter bunny shoved down their throats, Santa Claus and sometimes the tooth fairy but nothing else. If it doesn't surround money and gluttony the superstition and fun mythos dies. Certainly Friday the 13th isn't a great big deal, it seems to be more of an urban legend that's been there since God knows when. It's no chupacabra, but it is another part of the American fabric that seems a little more dead year after year.
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