vanity sizing.... Hmmm.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/15319430/site/newsweek/



Kind of means I should be a size 18 in a few weeks instead of a few months.

Who the hell wants to be a sub zero anyway? Can there really be people that thin?

Yech.

Meanderings and stream of thought.....

Well, lets see, EEG came back normal except for the fact that the technician said I fell asleep (brain wave activity said so) but I swear I was not asleep.
I am just this close really close to being legally blind in my right eye. My left eye still has a cataract but it is in its infancy. May it stay in childhood for a long time. I am losing a bit more peripheral vision in that left eye though. I believe I will see if Jazzy will be able to learn to be a seeing eye dog. He has already earned his kibble yesterday morning. I was really horribly dizzy and my mom was in the living room watching thenews. I was in the bedroom bathroom. I told Jazzy "Grandma Grandma" which to him means find my mom. He got her attention and brought her to me.
There must be angels cause Jazzy certainly has turned out to be mine.

Mr. Silent is not so silent lately and it is making me nuts. Remember when I told you all about how quiet he got when I had told him that since no one was begging me to stay in NY after a year I would probably move with my mom down to Virginia? Well Mr. Silent sure has been attentive.

He took me out to dinner twice, and when I called and told him that my dad had past away, he was a bit angry I had not called earlier when dad had fallen and gone into the hospital. I had not called him because I just am use to being on my own. He told me he would be at the funeral.
Monday he showed up and I went over to him and gave him a huge hug, letting him know how pleased I was that he would show up.

After the ceremony I did not get to see him so I figured he had to get to work. We went to the cemetary and I kind of stood next to my mom and my brother Alan but behind them. All of a sudden I feel someone holding me around the waist. I thought it was my cousin James, someone who is a few months younger than I and we grew up together. I turned around and it was Mr. Silent, Mitchell himself.

The ceremony at the cemetary was about 15 minutes and he never let me go. It was as if he knew I needed someone just for me. That my mom had my brothers. The only time he let go was when I put 4 shovelfuls of dirt onto my fathers casket as is the jewish tradition. Then he walked me back to where my mom was standing and held me again.

He went and put in a few shovelfuls also. Then came back.

I must say, I was so happy and felt that my dad was honored completely by the 40 or so people who were at the grave site. In jewish tradition, you put shovelfuls of dirt onto the coffin so that the coffin is mostly overed. The back hoe does the rest. My fathers coffin did not really need the back hoe. Nieces, nephews, cousins, friends, all of them, helped to say good bye to my father.

Now, back to Mitchell. He showed up for Shiva that night. Spent time just with me but then got to talking to friends of my brother AL, they are just a year apart. I liked seeing him like that, getting along with my bro and his friends. I got to show off my nieces to Mitchell. Even held Ava while I was talking to him, just to check out how he deals with babies. She got a bit fussy but even so he smiled at her and held her little hand.

So, since then, Mitchell decided I needed a day away so we went up to the house he built up near Yeagers Farm where the original Woodstock was held. It is about 2 miles away. I remember way back in the mid 80's when he started building it but we broke up before he got it done. So I never saw it before. It is really a nice summer type house about a 5 minute walk to a lake. He is still after all these years planning on making the basement into a two bedroom apt but since he does it all on his own, I am figuring on 2010 for that. We had a nice quiet time. Jazzy came along. He showed me the whole area, where he spent his summers growing up, what he remembers of his grandparents who owned one of those bungalow colonies. It was nippy out but not too nippy. I walked Jazz, he mowed the grass and took care of somethings.
We got home around 8pm and I took him out to dinner.

Since then, it seems if I do not email or talk to him twice a week, he gets worried that something is wrong. I am not use to this. I am helping him out with some powerpoint projects but I am not use to Mr. Silent being not so silent.

He will be going up to the house on Thanksgiving with his brother, who is manic depressive to take care of things. I just hope he will get to be with some friends for some part of the weekend.
My mom and I are going to my Friend from Jr. High for Turkey day. We just did not want to go down to my bro John and spend so much time. So tomorrow we turkey it up here and Friday morning, Mom, my bro Al, Jazzy and I will drive down to my bro/SIL for the weekend. I get to see my sweeties and I also do not have to spend so much time there.

Moving day is fast approaching. I keep feeling I am forgetting to pack things but No matter how neurotic I am being, I know it will work out fine.
I just wish my mom would get a bit more into all this. I know she is grieving and I know it takes time but heck, I am grieving also and it is starting to get too much for me.

Being sick, dealing with missing my dad, confused about Mitchell, living with the damn drugs and at least once a friggin day tripping over my own feet is just beginning to be too much.
My working on automatic pilot failed the other day when on the 30th day the candle we use to mark the first month of his passing finally went out. My heart broke and I am still putting it back together now.

But, as I say, Giving up is not ever an option. Tomorrow will take care of itself.

Happy Turkey day to all you turkeys....hehehe

Nothing in the world like your computer crashing at the wrong time. I am just happy I had my moms tower and hard drive to use.

I have learned something very important, never touch a crashed computer alone. You fuck it up even worse.
I had "Eric" from Eric's computer repair come down today and repair what he could. I lost so much off line data though. He sold me a memory stick so now I will be totally backing up everything off line every day.

I had collected all my journalling from CK on off line word doc. NOw I have to go back and do it all over. ARRRRRRRGH!!!!

Shoes just make the day better.

'You see, the dame had the legs that just would not stop. Her shoes were red, not cherry red mind you but the color of a fine red wine...'

I have never owned a pair of shoes that made me feel so female. I also got a pair in black. I love these shoes!!!!

Just a short message from our sponsor....

Do you know how it feels to walk thru Macy's, and instead of heading to the woman's department without looking at the misses dept clothes, stop in the misses side and see a really pretty zip up sweater, try on the XL, zip it up and find it fits?


Do you know what it feels like to pass by a mirror in that same Macy's and say "Who the heck is that cute woman? Oh, yeah, that wonderful person is ME!

Do you know what it feels like to be able to now share all these great feelings with my friends?

Dancing and partying all around people. Dancing and partying.

Chapter 4: Friendships

I have found out in the past few months just how much a friendship means.

My brother Al's friends, who he has know from high school and college, so, what, 35 or so years, all came to my dad's funeral out of love and concern for Al. They also knew and liked my dad but they came because Al was their friend and needed them.

I do not have many friends living near me and unfortunately the two who are closest to me could not come. One, actually was doing a major Mitzvah (good deed) by watching Jazzy for me that day, and the other was taking her mom to the hospital.
I begrudge them nothing because they have been on the phone with me every day since. Both came to Shiva, one with her boyfriend, who is a sweetie. Most of my friends are long distance and cyber friends.

You all have been like family in your concern for me. My cyber friends come from all different web sights, weight loss, WLS, Shrinkwraplive, as well as my Crohns site, have all been watching out for me.

Friendship is something I never in my first 35 years of life really thought I needed. I had only one close friend from jr. high school. The rest were acquaintances.

It has taken me a very long time to accept that the basis of friendship is a caring about one another. The ability sometimes to agree to disagree but still enjoy the persons company. Knowing that bad jokes will be laughed at. That when it comes down to it, all you need between you and a friend is the knowledge that you or they can say "We'll get through this, together"

Thank you for letting me call you all friends. May I be able to comfort you as you have for me. May I be able to laugh at your bad jokes as you do me. May I be free to tell you what I believe as I would have you do for me.

Now, wipe those tears and have a wonderful week.

Oh, I will get to Mr. Silent and my medical issues in a bit.

I have an EEG in the morning and I am not allowed my meds. I am just this side of pain.

Chapter 3: Moving time is near

Since I am not too tired I will go on to Chapter 3: Moving time is near.

On November 30th I am getting the phone/cablemodem online/digital cable installed. Got a great one year deal of $95.57 for all three services.
Gas and ELectric will be changed over into my name on December 1.

Moving day: December 1, 2006.

So far I have cleaned out 90% of the crap I had in my apt. My brother and I took all of my dads clothes to charity and I moved all my clothes up to my folks apt so that we can pack in one or two wardrobe boxes.

I found an online web site where you can set up rooms in cyber space and have taken the dimensions of all the furniture. I have a floor plan of the apt so I pretty much, after playing with the online program, know where everything is going.

I will take pics after we move in and it is all arranged.

I am SOOOO looking forward to getting out of here. My mom and I need to get away from the sickness feelings that linger in the room dad used. I can't enter the room because all I see is my dad on the floor.

I have developed a great hatred of the apts and the building in general.

Bad Karma going to Good Karma. End of one lifetime, beginning of a new one.

Chapter 2: Feelings about my dad and sadness

Okay,
chapter 2.


I am doing alright. I get the sad feelings every so often.
Like the other day I was cleaning out my desk to get ready to move and I found some hair clips. For some reason I got so sad. I remembered when I was younger my dad would play "Mr. Irving" the hair dresser to me. I always loved getting my head rubbed and my dad would comb out my hair and either braid it or put a clip in it for a pony tail.
I found tears in my eyes remembering that.

I also get the sad feelings when I know I just can't go into his room and say "hey there Pop!"

But, overall, I know that he is soaring high, hanging in the cosmos, in no pain, having a grand time.

I don't yet feel him around me like I do my grandmother, but I am hoping that someday I will feel he is there. Actually, I hope he is watching his granddaughters and smiling"

Chapter 1: You do the crime, you do the time....

Now it is going to take a while for me to get through all these things.
I may have to save it and then when I am not too tired come back and add to it all. Let's see how far I can get.

Chapter 1: Do the crime, do the time.
The police arrested the aide last Friday and charged her with Grand Larceny in the 4 degree, She stole more than $1000 but less than $3000 so it is only 4th degree. But, she now has a record and her prints are on file. She sat in jail all weekend and was arraigned on Monday. Her friend posted her bail.

She has admitted to the ATM card stealing but not to stealing cash or my dads ring. Her word is worth shit though considering that back in 2005 the son of the person she works for put in a police report of missing Jewelry and this aide was questioned. No one thought it was her though. I am hoping that the DA will put two and two together and charge her in this other case. The jewelry in that case was worth over $10K.

Now, the aide had the balls to call and apologize to my mother, she gave some excuse. She then asked to speak with me. She apologized and I basically told her that her apology is worthless and to me she needs to make restitution to me, as well as fess up about the other missing cash, my dad's ring and as it turns out a ring that was my moms. That wasn't worth alot but come on now.

She assured me that she did not take anything other than the ATM card. I told her that her word is worthless and I expect my money back. As for pressing charges, I told her it was up to the DA. I still would want her ass rotting in a jail.

My father taught his children right from wrong. He taught us personal responsibility.

Honey, you do the crime, you will be doing the time.

And I gotta rest.

I will come back for the next chapter in a while.

Thank you and I will be adding to my tale

Here is my outline:
1. do the crime do the time
2. dealing with sadness
3. moving
4. friendship
5. relationships
6. right cerebral dysfuntion.

Stay tuned. I have too much to do before the move.

OOOH, I feel just like an author.

Love ya my friends

I'm back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hi guys,

Forgive me if I repeat anything I am just not myself lately. Forgive me also for the length.

I am sorry to have not been around lately other than to give a woohoo or great going.

I am still functioning most of the time on autopilot when it comes to my dads passing.
We clashed so much when he was alive but in the last year of his life we did get along and had fun.

I seem to do okay and then something will happen, like when my mom and I went shopping and I realized we no longer needed to buy Cashew nuts because my dad loved a handful of them as a snack. That hurt.

I really do miss the guy.

It is just too darn quiet now. No matter how sick he was, save for the times the medications he got made him really out of it, he made a joke, or just made noise. Living right now with my mom is very, very quiet. I use to like quiet but not like this quiet. Besides, I cannot go into my dad’s room (he had to be in a hospital bed towards the end). All I feel is him and all I see is him lying on the floor knowing his spirit was trying to leave his failing body.

I can’t wait until we move on December 1st. A new place without pain memories. I have cleared out all his clothes and the crap he kept since he was born or at least that is what it felt like, and it is now a whole lot of empty.
****
I did discover some wonderful pictures from when he was a child and teenager. I have them packed away carefully and will concentrate on them after we move.

I also found photos of my mom’s father who passed away back in 1947. It is neat to see this man who may have been all of 45 at the time. He looked so alive.
*****
The funeral for my Dad was okay. I wrote my Eulogy, and reproduced my brother Al’s on my blog. Al and I got the chance to see my dad before the ceremony. Someone had to attest to the fact that we were burying the right body. Considering the last visual of my dad was him hooked up to the ventilator, which was horrible, I was so exceptionally comforted and happy in my heart to see that the men who readied him for his burial made him look calm and asleep. Al and I had written notes to my dad that we read to him before anyone was in the room with us. The funeral director let us put the notes next to his heart and let us kiss him good-bye. That was hard to do.

The funeral was your standard Jewish ceremony, with my brothers and I talking about him to those who were at the chapel. The rabbi had visited us the night before and he made what he said about my dad seem like he had known the man forever. He kind of did know my dad, or rather my dad made sure he knew him. A friend had taken him this particular temple about 12 years ago and my father went up to this Rabbi after the services on Saturday. My dad told this man, “You don’t know me right now, but I want to get to know you since you will one day officiate at my funeral.” The Rabbi, after seeing a photo of my dad that Sunday night, remembered those words.

The only really hard thing about the funeral was when we were at the cemetery and the grave workers physically lowered the coffin into the grave. I did not want to leave my dad in that cold dark place. I forgot for a moment that he was not there, that he was now part of the cosmic world.

There were about 40 or so of his friends and relatives at the cemetery and each and everyone one of us, as is Jewish tradition, took shovels full of dirt to cover the coffin.
I was so proud of them all. No one wanted just one shovel full, some did 3; some did 5 or 6. The backhoe did not have to do much at all. I have never seen so many people work so much together to say goodbye to someone.

Now, for a fun tale, I am standing there, at the cemetery, with my brothers on either side of my Mom and I have her back. I feel someone put their arm around my waist and I am thinking it is one of my cousins. I turn and there is Mr. Silent. Mitchell himself. He did not let me go through the whole thing until I put in my shovels full of dirt, then when I came back he held me again. What a wonderful surprise. I expected him to come to the ceremony but not to come to the cemetery. Then he showed up later that night for the first night of Shiva.
Yes there are wonderful things in this world.

It was a really long week. Lots of food, (I am now trying to rid myself of a sugar high and 9 pounds of crap food) lots of stories, lots of trying to be pleasant when all I really wanted to do was crawl into a ball and cry.

I am so glad for my youngest niece. Bless her three-month-old soul. She just folded herself into her Aunt Sandgee’s shoulder and let me lose myself in her.
Things quieted down by Thursday and I will admit I was exhausted.

Lets see, besides being on autopilot since Oct 13th and handling all the logistics (John took care of his wife and my nieces, and Alan was in charge of taking care of my mom) I also finally finished up my neurological testing. Now, I wish I could say I know what the hell the Neurologist was talking about when I saw him this past Friday, but all I can remember is “Brain Stem Injury” and “I will be doing anything I can to make your life more comfortable.”

I feel like he gave me a diagnosis, but I am so darn fuzzy with all the medications I have to take I can’t for the life of me remember what it is called. I do know that part of the damage was done from my bout in 1997 with Pseudo Tumor Cerebri, and all the other shit happening physically to me since then. Perhaps the best thing that did happen was me getting the Gastric band and losing 64 pounds so far. Another 60 will help but won’t cure me.

So, I am now not allowed to drive anywhere. I have to use a cane to stabilized myself and preferably walk with someone when I walk my dog. I have to take Valium, Furocet, Diamox, and one major ass drug called Lyrica. Let us just say that I have had to spend 3 weeks building up to the dosage the Neurologist wants me taking. They help me with pain, and ladies and gentlemen, you could throw a bowie knife through my body and I would not feel it at all. Yippee for Narcotics. Can’t beat a legal junkie.



Now, I give you THE FINALE:

During Shiva you really don’t use modern equipment and I tried to stay off the computer and web as much as I could. I did not get to look at my bank balance (of which I am completely, excuse the term, anal about). I go online on Sunday October 22nd and what do I see? Someone had taken my ATM card and cleaned out my checking account. I made a complaint Monday morning October 23rd. I got a call on the 26th to come to the main bank branch to see the picture captured at the ATM. I wanted to see what piece of shit did this. Now mind you I could not imagine losing the card which was soldered into my wallet along with, and I am a schmuck, say it out loud please, my pin # in the wallet in a different place.
The piece of shit turned out to be the nighttime aide we had for my father. SHE DID THIS DURING THE SHIVA PERIOD. I wanted that photo to be anyone else. I had thought she was a good person. She got over 1200$ out of my account. I need to fill out a police report but at first I was not sure. I mean I was 99.5% sure it was she. But, then I began thinking back to when my mom kept complaining that she couldn’t find money or after I had taken cash out for the day and night aides salary I could not locate the amount the next day, or money was taken out of the envelopes I left for their salaries. Then the topper was that my mom was looking for a ring that was my dads and it was in the same box as one of her rings. Guess what, no rings.
So, fuck her, tomorrow is a police report. I will get the money back from the bank, but I will probably be out the amounts of cash she stole from us in the house because there is no visual record. I am sure my dads ring was hocked for money.

The moral of this story? Some people are Nasty rotten immoral people.
Some people are caring wonderful loving people.
And I never give up.

Thanks for listening.

Opinions are as numerous as Assholes...

I say with a very deep sadness because I am not a mean person at all but some people who know shit about WLS need to keep their mouths shut.

WLS is a tool to get you to your goal. It is not the cure. You still need to eat a healthy way, exercise and be vigilent.
Researchers are beginning to determine that some people have an issue, metabolic, immune, whatever, that makes them hungry 24/7.
For some reason the Vagas Nerve in the stomach does not work.
Perhaps in time no one will need WLS because the researchers will come up with an enzyme or pill or shot, whatever, that will make that nerve function properly.
Right now though, WLS can be the tool to save someones life.
I am now going back to lurking on CK and staying away from uninformed opinions.
My blog, my opinion, so bite me....

I really really miss my dad today.

It gets way too quiet in their apt.
I moved in to be with my mom until we move to Long Beach.

It just isn't the same.. :(

A Eulogy for my Father

This was the Eulogy I gave for my father at his funeral.
I wrote it in 5 minutes and it was sparked by a phrase my brother Al used "The world seems a far lonelier place without my dad in it."
You can read his Eulogy after this one.

I want to talk about humor and my fathers sense of it. My brothers spoke of his sense of right and wrong. His ability to tell a story. But my dad was also a humorist.

Our relationship was one of an adored little girl and a cuddly bear of a father.

As an infant and youngster he sang me silly yiddish songs as I lay on his shoulder. They were silly songs that he sang to us all, every niece and nephew, grand and great grand. I would fall asleep on that huge shoulder without a care in the world.

As a child he told me stories about his parents and "Uncle" who was my Bubbys(grandmother) half brother who was an inventor. Trouble was, as my father would say, nothing he invented ever worked but they sure looked wonderful. After one night of all the relatives from the old country laughing at him he threatened to jump out of the window, they'd be sorry.
Now I know, to my dad, as a small tyke, this must have been scarey, but to my dad the story teller it became the punchline in a vaudvillian act.
"So, my Mother said to him, 'Jump', we live on the first floor..." My dad needed the rimshot of a drum set for his stories.

One story he told over and over again, Oh, maybe I was 4 years old, much to my chagrin was about one Thanksgiving we spent in NJ at my cousin Jack and Elys house with their kids. My dads oldest sister (20 years older) was there also. Someone, probably my cousin Jack liked to hear me sing and taught me the tune "I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee" well I couldn't say Alabama and sang Alabamala" So I heard the story over and over and over again. It drove me nuts.

In teenage years our relationship was rocky because I wanted independence but he wanted to keep his little girl safe. I couldn't understand it until I was a lot older.

When I grew up and discovered that ocassionally dad was right, we formed a bond that came in laughter and jokes.

He'd sing, I'd groan.
I would tell a joke, he'd laugh.
He would tell me a story about his live and I sat with rapt attention to his foibles as he grew up with his "gang" of Brooklyn friends.
There is a story about Haskell the Barber and firecrackers but that is for another time and place to tell it.
He told me about WWII and his time in India as an air traffic controller.

I still am not sure how we won the war considering the funny tales he told about his life in the Army Air core. He started though as a private and ended up as a seargent.

He told stories of how he me Mom, and woo'd her, with love and laughter.

He loved my mom from the first and he had great funny stories of the trips they went on over the years.

She was the love of his lofe. He always told me he never wanted any woman but her. EVER. You don't see that too much anymore. My brother John and Ann come close to this.

His love was true, for his wife, his children, grandchildren and the NUMEROUS nieces and nephews, grand and great grand. And he shared his gift of humor and story telling with us all.

My brother Al said "The world seems a far lonelier place without my dad in it."
To me the world has a little less laughter in it.
But, where he is now, free from this earth and his pains, he is telling his stories and his jokes to another set of friends.

The heavens are laughing today.

From My Brother AL

Picture a little boy running halfway around a block to avoid getting on a bus headed for day camp. Why? Because it was only a small van and not a full-sized yellow school bus, of course. Now picture a middle-aged father running after him. Picture this same father filling in as a coach and as an umpire for the young boy’s Little League game. When called out at first base by his father the umpire, this boy gets angry and decides he doesn’t want to play any more and just walks home. Perhaps youthful indiscretion and foolishness? OK, except without him, the team has to forfeit due to lack of a sufficient number of ballplayers. So now the father the coach finds he again has to run after him, and brings him back to the game. This same kid decides he wants to follow his brother climbing a tree. Except he forgets to follow him down and gets stuck and his dad has to talk him down. And finally, for some reason better left not understood, his bigger brother convinces him it is OK to pee in the draw of a desk in their room. This too comes to the father’s attention. Obviously this little bundle of joy was me and that father was my dad. What was my punishment for these youthful indiscretions? As punishment for these youthful indiscretions my father took me to Met games in field level box seats and let me stuff my face with all kinds of stuff from, hot dogs with Gulden’s mustard to ice cream to cracker jacks to Coke’s to pizza which tasted like cardboard for nine innings and sometimes 18 if it was a doubleheader. He took me to the batting cage during the week, came to my little league games, some of my high school games time permitting, a playoff soccer game in college….I think you get the point.

My father was an honorable man and a man of integrity. He tried to teach me personal responsibility. When I was about 10 years old, we were coming home from temple, and he found a parking ticket on his wind shield. As he left the spot, he saw the officer who had issued the ticket. He pulled up to him, and instead of giving him a hard time or attempting to talk him out of the ticket, he said he understood why he got the ticket and that he was in the wrong. In effect, he told me that the man was just doing his job and that he, my Dad, should take responsibility for this deserved ticket. This lesson in personal responsibility still resonates with me to this day.

My father was truly a nice guy who wanted to do right by everybody. A terrific storyteller, he could cheer anybody up and often did so. He was a natural born salesman who made friends easily. In fact, he was elected the president of his international trade association, EASA, in 1985.

It has touched me deeply that the two aides who have worked to help him these past few years have enjoyed working with him and are genuinely saddened by his passing. I suspect this is not always the case with a client. And I would like to thank them Georgina and Maudry for their caring. Along with my mother and my sister, they kept him going on what I believe was borrowed time.

Nobody’s perfect, and there are always things, whether real or imagined, a son can look back on and disagree with in the way his father handled a situation. But there is one thing I know about my dad, he always loved me and he always had my best interests at heart. No matter what I did I always felt secure in that knowledge (he would always love me. )

There are so many things I feel about my father and so many things about him I would like to tell. There just isn’t the time right now.

Towards the end, when he knew death could come at any time, I never saw a trace of self pity. Of course there was some trepidation, and perhaps some anger and frustration at his failing body, but no self pity. He truly loved life, but knew it must end at some point. He was concerned that I and others not feel sad for him. Well, this is one wish of his I cannot comply with. The world seems a far lonelier place without my dad in it.

My father always ended his conversations by saying “Stay well”, whether at work, on the phone or in person. Towards the end and in failing health, when he would say this to me, I’d say right back, “YOU stay well” and he’d say he would try. Unfortunately last Saturday he could no longer do that (keep that promise). And so I say to my father, I love you, I will miss you, /I’m glad you were my dad, you are not alone, you will always be in my thoughts and with me as long as I live. Dad, stay well. YOU stay well.

Joy

I wish I could convey in words the feeling of Joy I have in my heart this past week.

I know it is a sad time to lose a father.

But I have watched and seen and listened to EVERY person who he touched come and say : Kindness, Honesty, Integrity, Humor, Smiles.
He as a parent was difficult to get along with considering how his children wanted to be independent and he wanted them to be close and safe, but he as a human being, was really really special.

If you have seen the movie "Pay it Forward", my dad was like the child character. His touch touched another and that person passed it along to another.

I figure, He touched a small part of the world...

Like I said, it is a feeling of joy.

automatic pilot

Right now, this week that is what I am on.

Next week I begin to think.

Next week I begin to feel.

Right now, it is not about me at all.

But I know, in my heart, my dad is singing in heaven.

To everyone of you who have sent their well wishes, listen tonight for his songs...

Big hugs and kisses to you all.

Today my father finally was able to soar the heavens

His heart stopped beating around 10am.
He flew away and my heart is lighter now.

He is being buried on Monday in a traditional Jewish ceremony. He will be bathed by orthodox jewish men, wrapped in a shroud then wrapped in a Talis. I found my Zaydees(grandfathers) talis and that is the one that will be used. He will also have an american flag on his coffin because he is a war veteran.

The fun stories have started already. They will go on all week. This "Shiva" period is going to be wonderful. My pop could be a real pain in the butt but he was one of the nicest, kindest, most honest persons I have ever known. I had the great fortune to grow up with his stories. He was a natural born story teller and every story was funny or fun. From his childhood in Williamsburg Brooklyn, to his WWII service in India as an air traffic controller, to his wooing and wedding my mother, to all his relatives (all from the "old country") every one of them are sparks in my head.

There is a jewish psalm or a song of Solomon that talks about the riches of a good name. In my fathers case, he was the richest man in the world. The world remembers him with a smile on their face and a warmth in their heart.

Not a bad way to be.

My father

will have passed away by 2pm today, Saturday, October 14th.

I feel sad.

Goodbye Pop.

It is 1 AM and I just saw a horrible thing

My father laying on the floor unconscious with blood flowing from a cut he got when he fell. My mom had awakened me ( I am staying with them) saying that EMS was coming. I got out of bed and there he was, right inside his bedroom door laying flat on his front. I tried to get a pulse but could not get one. My mom got a very weak one. But he would not wake up.

EMS took him to the hospital 20 minutes ago. My brother is coming out from Brooklyn and we will go to the ER to meet with my mom and the doctors. My other brother happens to be out of town in Tuscon Arizona so we got my SIL. She will call my bro once we know how what dads status is.

THe shit thing is my dad never did a general DNR, just one on file from the last time he was in the hospital. We forgot that one little document when we set up the wills and health care proxys. So, once the medics got the weak pulse they had to do everything to bring him back.

Right at this moment, I have no silver lining to this tale.
I don't want my dad to die, but when he does, or if he did, I wanted him to just go to sleep. NO pain, no problems.
Now all I can think of is him realizing he was falling and could not stop himself from pain.


I have nothing left guys..............