A mixed bag…

I needed a jolt of goodness today, something to lift my spirits. And here it is. One of my all-time fav pics - Ellen on her wedding day as she jettisons the church for her reception.

Today is your lucky day.

No real moralisms this past week.  I stepped down off my lofty, left-wing soapbox to simply provide updates on the typical and mundane.  I’ll get back to waxing poetic next week with full force. Next Monday’s note will be a completely new tangent the kids have never, ever before seen from me.  I’m not sure what they’ll make of what they read.  Probably ‘life goes on’ and that will be sufficient enough.  Both have seen and heard bits and pieces here and there of the topic.

What you’ll read next week has nothing to do with medical procedures or jobs or lovable dogs named Henry or sunny Southern weather or terrible-lousy-awful-shitty golf swings.

But for now, it’s back to a mixed bag of routine news.  My friend Betsy will chew on me for not being more fatherly in my advice or counsel, but it’s Monday and I ran out of energizing coffee.


March 28, 2011

Ellen/Reid: See last week’s note about Butler playing the role of the little school that could.  How many brackets have Butler and VCU blown to smithereens (mine included)?  I will be on pins and needles (i.e. I won’t be able to watch) the action on Saturday night.  Call me a scaredie cat.  It’s all true.  I had Butler making it to the Sweet 16 – but no further.  And VCU?  First round losers.

Things at the doctor’s office were something of a mixed bag.  On one hand the recovery has gone smoothly; I’m all healed and ready to go.  No problems there.  But they do this crazy ultrasound of my bladder and I’m back to square one in terms of drainage.  Not sure what we’re going to do about that.  The gist is not everything is leaving me which just amazes me because I feel bone dry. Their concern is this could lead to bladder infections if the situation doesn’t improve.  They want me to try some methods to train the bladder so I am trying to practice those before they resort to other remedies.  There are no drugs or surgery options available right now, so they will give me a 90 day reprieve to see how things continue to progress and then they’ll make a judgment from there.  I feel really good in all other respects.

In fact, I played golf yesterday for the first time since February 6.  Walked 18 holes, slowly, on a cold and damp day and felt just great.  There was virtually no one else on the course so I could take my sweet time.  If nothing else it showed me how much I missed just getting out on the course.  This morning my muscles were a little fatigued but nothing like I thought they might be.  The round was a shake-down cruise in that I didn’t try to hit for the fences but instead just swing easily and enjoy the cloudy day.  There were some good shots and some forgettable shots but I had a good time.  Reid, you ought to dust off your sticks now and then.  It would be good exercise for you.

Your grandmother continues her slide.  The other day your uncle called from her room at the nursing home and put his phone to her ear.  The best part of the conversation is the first :30 seconds because that’s when she is most lucid.  There’s no real back-and-forth per se.  She says she feels fine and then in the next sentence she asks me “Is Patty dead?”  That was her sister who passed away in 1970.  Yes, mom, she is.  I think that’s when she knows that something is amiss with her.  I’m sure she feels some maddening frustration about what has occurred to her although it’s all probably just a blur.  I’ve yet to hear her ask about your grandfather; perhaps she has shoved that way down in her subconscious.  That’s okay.  She has a lot on her plate as she rides out her days.  I am so glad to be going there for Easter.  I’ve ramped up the schedule for my church newsletter to accommodate my travel.  I am very anxious to see her.

It’s good you got to see your other grandmother, Ellen, when you were in Des Moines.  No matter how things have gone down, it’s still the right thing to do.  People are who they are and there’s no sense trying to make the situation seem otherwise.  I’m not sure I would have the same degree of patience.  Life is too short to get all stirred up about things that are beyond your control.  I wish I’d of come to grips with that philosophy a little bit sooner.  Good for you, too, to pick up the china and some other items.  Your mom was anxious to get some of the stuff out of the house.

Reid, it is so good to hear you like things at Razorfish.  This sounds like a solid outfit and a very good fit for your skills and intellect.  It will be interesting to get you take on where this all fits in with the New School.  Ellen and I both think you can’t go wrong either way.  Nice to have choices.

1 Comment

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One response to “A mixed bag…

  1. Mort

    Dear Dave – Hopefully, after Hill and I have left Charlotte it’ll be easier for you to wax poetic. A jolt of goodness? Not quite… more like a cup of energizing coffee mixed with a huge draught of ‘at-least-I-don’t-have-to-deal-with-this-again-for-awhile.’

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