I was happily surprised at the soccer game.
My great-niece was sooooooo cute in that hot pink and black soccer outfit. She had ponytails. She is a typical midwestern white girl, blonde blonde hair, and blue eyes.
She is a tough little one, too. No shrinking violet, just aggressive enough to not be run over like a door mat, but restrained enough to probably stay out of brawls, should she continue to play in the coming years...
They rotate the kids through positions. Her coaches were two men and they were really good - very supportive. The other team's coaches were two women and one of them was a bit overboard with her coaching - they are 6, chick.
Anyway, little Savannah is pretty quick. She doesn't seem to get defense just yet, but was aggressive on offense.
They won. We think the score was 3 to 2 but we don't really know.
We picked her oldest sister up from cross-country and Savannah told her they won 5 to 0... a minute later she told her the truth... little shit.
It was much more exciting than I had expected, those little girls were pretty good.
My niece says Springboro is pretty competitive with soccer. Her oldest daughter, Ashlynn, played until 5th grade. She is now in 8th grade. I suggested that she get back into soccer and was told that she would not be anywhere near good enough now, having missed 3 years. Apparently these kids play indoor soccer in the winter and are pretty committed by 7th grade. Cripes.
Well, Ashlynn is off to her first audition for a non-school play. Auditions are open to kids in 8th to 11th grade and they will likely perform the play at the main theater in downtown Dayton.
Ashlynn is unlikely to make it. She has an attitude issue. She is whiney like a small child and has not yet grasped the idea that the world will not be handed to her on a silver platter. She seems really to want to be a performer and she has a really really great voice - she just needs to get her head out of her ass a bit.
She did show some maturity today at her cross-country meet. She could not get her new earings out (she had a second piercing in each ear in the summer) and one of them was swollen. The refs told her if she ran the whole team would be disqualified for the event, her coach told her she could run or sit it out. She sat it out instead of being self-absorbed. I was proud of that, at least that she thought of the others. She is not a very good runner, she does not have the body structure to be a first place runner, but, more importantly, she seems to really like to run and that is what counts, doing something she enjoys.
Well, it was a fun day with the kids and I hope Ashlynn is "breaking a leg" right about now.
More on her aspiring career as a performer as news comes in. She did make show choir this year - in a school with 1000 kids, that is pretty darn good, and this community takes the arts seriously...
Dad - Being his typical silly self...
We miss you dad!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Wow
Well, nothing like a 6 year old, 3 ten year olds, an eleven year old and a thirteen year old girl at a birthday party to make you run like hell to the deck outside.
Actually, it was kinda fun, they even broke into a spontaneous conga line. It was a Halloween themed party, as is usually the case for Brenna's birthdays. One little girl came dressed up like a grandma. She looked like Vickie Lawrence in Mama's Family. She, of course, had no idea who that was, but I am sure her mom or whoever did her costume did. She had a huge bossom and a really big butt. It was the best costume I have seen on a kid in a long time.
Brenna got art supplies, some girly things - barrettes, "make-up" a few toys and a brand new bicycle. Unfortunately my niece sent her husband and his dad to pick up the bike in his dad's truck. They did not see a smaller bike like my niece described, and brought home a 26" bike which was too big for the 10 year old.
Well, turns out little Savannah, 6, is having a soccer game tommorrow. I am going to take the Jeep down so we can take the bike and exchange it for one Brenna's size, and then we are going to watch the soccer game.
Well, my niece made a jello brain and had gummi eyeballs in the girls drinking glasses - eeeeeeeew.
The kids were actually a lot of fun.
Mom and I left, and headed to the gridiron - that is a football field, fyi... at my alma mater.
We arrived at the bottom of the 2nd, and Dixie was down 27 to 3 - ouch --especially on homecoming.
Dixie now has a show band or something like that - I am not much for bands, but it was different than the regular marching band - and it was odd because they were not wearing the school colors - red and grey - they were in sharp uniforms, but they were black with an orange triangle and a white stripe. The performance was not great, and the girls with the fake guns didn't seem to know what they were suppose to be doing.
It was a sureal experience, being back at that football field after 28 years away.
The field was officially named after Chief, aka Coach Brown, so that was cool. The bleachers, press box and track was all new. The bleachers had a ramp, a nice wide metal walkway and, the clincher folks, there were metal gates blocking the access to under the bleachers. It didn't look like you could slip through the gaps between the seats and footboards, either. Not a single drunk, or stoner, under those bleachers.
I hate it when time honored traditions hit the dust. I didn't see any stoners loitering in the parking lot either. Man, high school has changed.
Well, Mr. Keener, band and choir director extrodinaire, who was the band director during Bruce's high school days, (he came in 1964, left in the late 70's, then came back and finally retired) Well, he came to the game as guest conductor, in memory of Bruce. He looks great, and it was really cool to see him up there waving his arms about. He led our kids to a large number of first place victories in band and choir competitions. A bit of a legend, as was Coach Brown.
It was really a weird feeling when the marching band, complete with alumni band members for the tribute to Bruce, came out playing the Dixie fight song. I was awash with nostalgia. They were good, even with the old people. Plenty of bald heads and grey hair. I did not really expect such a reaction to the football fight song, but there it was, and I started clapping like a trained seal.
Dixie has a tradition of setting a white drum on the 50 yard line to honor a former band member's passing. I think it is a nice tribute. It was sad in a way, to see that lone drum sitting there, half way between Mr. Keener and the band.
Well, I gotta say, it is freaking weird to see middle aged people who look like they gobbled up your 17 year old classmates.
I encountered this several times, and admonished myself for not digging out the yearbook and taking a refresher course. I knew some of those middle aged people, I am sure of it. One of them gave me one of those looks in return. He was probably 50 pounds heavier and, well 28 years older, but I am sure we graduated together.
Getting old I suppose.
Well, nostalgia and team spirit overcame me and I ordered a school sport jacket. I can pick it up in just over a week. Somewhere, I have my high school jacket with my varsity D on it. I hope I have it somewhere...
Anyway, when we left half way through the 3rd quarter, it was 41 to 3. Our boys were getting mopped up. Some of those kids from Waynesville looked like they were junior college sized. Waynesville is a bigger school and I was shocked we were even playing them, we never did when I was in school. Dixie must have changed divisions or ratings or something.
The lady that was in charge of the jacket and shirt table teaches business classes to the high schoolers. Imagine that, Dixie with a business class. Turns out they have a bunch of business classes, including a basic law class! We've come a long way baby.
Hey, the track is no longer that ankle breaking cinders and is now one of those spiffy - and environmentally icky, spongy type surfaces. Looks sharp as hell. I hated running in those black cinders and when you fell, ouch. I ran (okay tried to run the 220 relay when I was in school). I was a little bullet, until about 3rd grade, when the anatomy began the slow slide into puberty. In first and second grade I could win against any classmate, boy or girl. Those were my glory years.
Dixie also has a preschool and head start program!!!!! Wowsie, did not expect that. I may investigate that as my internship site for the anthro degree. Unpaid, but hey, it is my school...well, it is next to where my school was. I'll never see that 4th grade drinking fountain that was too tall for me when I was in fourth grade. Sonya, a bigger than usual 4th grader, would pick me up so I could get a drink. If she were not around, I had to walk all the way to the first and second grade hall to get a drink. NO Kidding... I was little, hence my mom calling me "half-pint." I didn't catch up until the summer before my freshman year.
Ok, off to bed to rest up for a wee soccer game.
Actually, it was kinda fun, they even broke into a spontaneous conga line. It was a Halloween themed party, as is usually the case for Brenna's birthdays. One little girl came dressed up like a grandma. She looked like Vickie Lawrence in Mama's Family. She, of course, had no idea who that was, but I am sure her mom or whoever did her costume did. She had a huge bossom and a really big butt. It was the best costume I have seen on a kid in a long time.
Brenna got art supplies, some girly things - barrettes, "make-up" a few toys and a brand new bicycle. Unfortunately my niece sent her husband and his dad to pick up the bike in his dad's truck. They did not see a smaller bike like my niece described, and brought home a 26" bike which was too big for the 10 year old.
Well, turns out little Savannah, 6, is having a soccer game tommorrow. I am going to take the Jeep down so we can take the bike and exchange it for one Brenna's size, and then we are going to watch the soccer game.
Well, my niece made a jello brain and had gummi eyeballs in the girls drinking glasses - eeeeeeeew.
The kids were actually a lot of fun.
Mom and I left, and headed to the gridiron - that is a football field, fyi... at my alma mater.
We arrived at the bottom of the 2nd, and Dixie was down 27 to 3 - ouch --especially on homecoming.
Dixie now has a show band or something like that - I am not much for bands, but it was different than the regular marching band - and it was odd because they were not wearing the school colors - red and grey - they were in sharp uniforms, but they were black with an orange triangle and a white stripe. The performance was not great, and the girls with the fake guns didn't seem to know what they were suppose to be doing.
It was a sureal experience, being back at that football field after 28 years away.
The field was officially named after Chief, aka Coach Brown, so that was cool. The bleachers, press box and track was all new. The bleachers had a ramp, a nice wide metal walkway and, the clincher folks, there were metal gates blocking the access to under the bleachers. It didn't look like you could slip through the gaps between the seats and footboards, either. Not a single drunk, or stoner, under those bleachers.
I hate it when time honored traditions hit the dust. I didn't see any stoners loitering in the parking lot either. Man, high school has changed.
Well, Mr. Keener, band and choir director extrodinaire, who was the band director during Bruce's high school days, (he came in 1964, left in the late 70's, then came back and finally retired) Well, he came to the game as guest conductor, in memory of Bruce. He looks great, and it was really cool to see him up there waving his arms about. He led our kids to a large number of first place victories in band and choir competitions. A bit of a legend, as was Coach Brown.
It was really a weird feeling when the marching band, complete with alumni band members for the tribute to Bruce, came out playing the Dixie fight song. I was awash with nostalgia. They were good, even with the old people. Plenty of bald heads and grey hair. I did not really expect such a reaction to the football fight song, but there it was, and I started clapping like a trained seal.
Dixie has a tradition of setting a white drum on the 50 yard line to honor a former band member's passing. I think it is a nice tribute. It was sad in a way, to see that lone drum sitting there, half way between Mr. Keener and the band.
Well, I gotta say, it is freaking weird to see middle aged people who look like they gobbled up your 17 year old classmates.
I encountered this several times, and admonished myself for not digging out the yearbook and taking a refresher course. I knew some of those middle aged people, I am sure of it. One of them gave me one of those looks in return. He was probably 50 pounds heavier and, well 28 years older, but I am sure we graduated together.
Getting old I suppose.
Well, nostalgia and team spirit overcame me and I ordered a school sport jacket. I can pick it up in just over a week. Somewhere, I have my high school jacket with my varsity D on it. I hope I have it somewhere...
Anyway, when we left half way through the 3rd quarter, it was 41 to 3. Our boys were getting mopped up. Some of those kids from Waynesville looked like they were junior college sized. Waynesville is a bigger school and I was shocked we were even playing them, we never did when I was in school. Dixie must have changed divisions or ratings or something.
The lady that was in charge of the jacket and shirt table teaches business classes to the high schoolers. Imagine that, Dixie with a business class. Turns out they have a bunch of business classes, including a basic law class! We've come a long way baby.
Hey, the track is no longer that ankle breaking cinders and is now one of those spiffy - and environmentally icky, spongy type surfaces. Looks sharp as hell. I hated running in those black cinders and when you fell, ouch. I ran (okay tried to run the 220 relay when I was in school). I was a little bullet, until about 3rd grade, when the anatomy began the slow slide into puberty. In first and second grade I could win against any classmate, boy or girl. Those were my glory years.
Dixie also has a preschool and head start program!!!!! Wowsie, did not expect that. I may investigate that as my internship site for the anthro degree. Unpaid, but hey, it is my school...well, it is next to where my school was. I'll never see that 4th grade drinking fountain that was too tall for me when I was in fourth grade. Sonya, a bigger than usual 4th grader, would pick me up so I could get a drink. If she were not around, I had to walk all the way to the first and second grade hall to get a drink. NO Kidding... I was little, hence my mom calling me "half-pint." I didn't catch up until the summer before my freshman year.
Ok, off to bed to rest up for a wee soccer game.
Pigskin and Tiaras
Well, as fate would have it, I am set to attend my alma matter's football game tonight.
Imagine my delight.
Now, we only have to stay until half-time is over, so that is good.
And it is for a good reason.
New Lebanon has what one could call a "first family" of sorts. Not for $$ mind you, but for being a wonderful well loved family. I don't know what kind of work Truman did before he retired, but he was heavily involved in the school, and the town, and well loved by everyone.
It doesn't hurt that he is gorgeous. Even in his late 70's/early 80's. Head of thick rich, now grey and silver hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes and a soul that radiates warmth and love.
His wife, Norma, was the Postmaster for New Lebanon, and is equally well loved and known by all.
One of their sons, Bruce, lost his battle with cancer about a month ago. Bruce was a legendary figure in the high school band. He attended the Music Conserevatory at Univ of Cincinnati and became a Deacon in the United Methodist Church. He was about 10 years older than me.
The school is holding a tribute to him at half-time at the football game tonight.
My sister used to date his brother back in high school.
Mom wants to go to the game for the tribute.
In looking for the time of the game, I discover that it is the Homecoming Game.
Nice.
Football Fridays are bad enough, but Homecoming adds a whole new level to the situation. Attendance will be high, and kids will be extra hyped up - except the stoners and they will be extra stoned under the bleachers.
So, we are playing Waynesville (famous --locally anyway--for their Saurkraut Festival).
Dixie has won all 5 games they have played this season, and all except one was by a wide margin. Waynesville has won 4 out of 5 games, so the match should be good, and attendance will be even higher because Dixie has won all their games so far...
Well, when I was 17 I was happy to go to the games and kick back wide-mouth Mickies that we bought at the drive thru in Drexel - a drive thru that would sell alcohol to anyone with a pulse, regardless of age. Of course, one must remember that in Ohio when I was a teen, you could buy 3.2 beer legally at 18, so selling it to 16 and 17 year olds was not a stretch. Stupid, yes.
No, I do not know how wide-mouth Mickies became the beer of choice, but it was.
So, Friday in Ohio will consist of attending my great-niece's 10th birthday party and then bolting to the high school for the football game, sans wide-mouth Mickies and this time I'll be in the bleachers instead of under, behind or no where near the football field.
There is a new high school building they built in the last few years, and a new elementary school.
The old elementary and middle schools were destroyed. My high school building in now middle school, and the new elementary looks like a juvenile detention center. no kidding...
Many moons ago the high school was opened up during Homecoming so the alumni could come in and relive their "glory years" (thank goodness my life did not stop after high school...) so, if the new one is opened up tonight, I may just go take a tour and check it out even though I have never been there before.
We are attempting to adjust to life without Tashi. Our routines are a mess. When I call the boys with the dog whistle, often Jaz will sit and watch the IF for Tashi. Snuggie just roamed around checking Tashi's hiding spots over and over. Bedtime is a mess and chaotic. Jaz and Snuggie still fight but sometimes Snuggie lets Jaz groom him and sometimes Jaz will play with Snuggie without pulling alpha male attitude. Tashi left a gaping hole in our lives.
The good news is that I am now to the point to where I can see him in my mind. I cannot yet recall his little voice, but it will come in time.
catch up with you all later.
Imagine my delight.
Now, we only have to stay until half-time is over, so that is good.
And it is for a good reason.
New Lebanon has what one could call a "first family" of sorts. Not for $$ mind you, but for being a wonderful well loved family. I don't know what kind of work Truman did before he retired, but he was heavily involved in the school, and the town, and well loved by everyone.
It doesn't hurt that he is gorgeous. Even in his late 70's/early 80's. Head of thick rich, now grey and silver hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes and a soul that radiates warmth and love.
His wife, Norma, was the Postmaster for New Lebanon, and is equally well loved and known by all.
One of their sons, Bruce, lost his battle with cancer about a month ago. Bruce was a legendary figure in the high school band. He attended the Music Conserevatory at Univ of Cincinnati and became a Deacon in the United Methodist Church. He was about 10 years older than me.
The school is holding a tribute to him at half-time at the football game tonight.
My sister used to date his brother back in high school.
Mom wants to go to the game for the tribute.
In looking for the time of the game, I discover that it is the Homecoming Game.
Nice.
Football Fridays are bad enough, but Homecoming adds a whole new level to the situation. Attendance will be high, and kids will be extra hyped up - except the stoners and they will be extra stoned under the bleachers.
So, we are playing Waynesville (famous --locally anyway--for their Saurkraut Festival).
Dixie has won all 5 games they have played this season, and all except one was by a wide margin. Waynesville has won 4 out of 5 games, so the match should be good, and attendance will be even higher because Dixie has won all their games so far...
Well, when I was 17 I was happy to go to the games and kick back wide-mouth Mickies that we bought at the drive thru in Drexel - a drive thru that would sell alcohol to anyone with a pulse, regardless of age. Of course, one must remember that in Ohio when I was a teen, you could buy 3.2 beer legally at 18, so selling it to 16 and 17 year olds was not a stretch. Stupid, yes.
No, I do not know how wide-mouth Mickies became the beer of choice, but it was.
So, Friday in Ohio will consist of attending my great-niece's 10th birthday party and then bolting to the high school for the football game, sans wide-mouth Mickies and this time I'll be in the bleachers instead of under, behind or no where near the football field.
There is a new high school building they built in the last few years, and a new elementary school.
The old elementary and middle schools were destroyed. My high school building in now middle school, and the new elementary looks like a juvenile detention center. no kidding...
Many moons ago the high school was opened up during Homecoming so the alumni could come in and relive their "glory years" (thank goodness my life did not stop after high school...) so, if the new one is opened up tonight, I may just go take a tour and check it out even though I have never been there before.
We are attempting to adjust to life without Tashi. Our routines are a mess. When I call the boys with the dog whistle, often Jaz will sit and watch the IF for Tashi. Snuggie just roamed around checking Tashi's hiding spots over and over. Bedtime is a mess and chaotic. Jaz and Snuggie still fight but sometimes Snuggie lets Jaz groom him and sometimes Jaz will play with Snuggie without pulling alpha male attitude. Tashi left a gaping hole in our lives.
The good news is that I am now to the point to where I can see him in my mind. I cannot yet recall his little voice, but it will come in time.
catch up with you all later.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Hurricane Ike batters Dayton with 70 mph winds
Sunday afternoon, about 2pm, while Mom, Mandy and I were working on the house -prepping for painting, Ike hit with a force we did not expect.
Having spent my adult life in CA, I was naively unaware of the magnitude, and oddity, of the storm.
One time when ignorance was somewhat blissful. I was still very sad over my sweet Tashi baby, and glad to have Mom and Mandy to distract me. I was just thinking it was a strong late summer storm.
WRONG.
I was not really paying much attention to the tree tops in the IF, for all I knew they always blew like that in big storms.
Apparently not.
The trees would whip one direction for a few minutes, then stabilize somewhat before whipping around in a different direction. The winds were coming from all different directions with little time between. Had I realized the oddity, I would have watched them more. People who have lived in Ohio for 80+ years say they never saw anything like it before.
Mom later told me she was scared, and she doesn’t get scared of storms. Dad would get scared in storms, but mom is not so inclined, normally.
I naively hung out in the living room on a ladder, scraping peeling and cracked paint. Snuggie was in the basement, mostly because of Mandy and Mom both being there, but probably because he was being a bit smarter than the rest of us. Jaz was hanging out in the living room.
The IF protected Kia Rio, and we escaped with absolutely no damage. Some big branches fell in the IF, and a tree fell and hit my neighbors front porch, but most of us within a 6 house strip, got away with little to no structural damage, and just tree debris to clean up.
The first time I realized the magnitude of what I had just been through was on Monday morning, when I awoke and found the electric was not yet back on. I decided to run up the street to the Shell station and grab a couple of bags of ice for me, Mom and her neighbors. Well, I got about a half a mile up the street, passed several downed billboard sized signs and when I got up to the gas station, this is what it looked like:
The white in the background is the canopy.
I figured they probably were not going to sell me any ice at the moment, so after I closed my mouth, I went over to the station across the street. They sold out of ice on the evening of the storm.
I had heard that some parts of Dayton had power, so I drove toward my friend Mandy’s house and when I got into Dayton I started to see traffic lights that worked and street lights on. It was about 7 am.
I went into store after store - of the few that had electric and were open-- and nobody had ice. I finally gave up after having drove around for a while and having seen an enormous number of trees, limbs and branches down in yards, blocking roads and creating havoc.
I went out to Mom’s and picked her up and we went in search of stores that were open so we could get her more batteries, some lamp oil, ice and other emergency provisions of non-food nature.
While mom and I drove around, we listened to the radio. Over 200,000 in the Dayton area without electric. All schools were closed. A restaurant had caught fire and burned. Just as we approached the Dayton Mall area, the newscaster said that there was a major electrical situation in the south parking lot of the Dayton Mall, with a big set of lines down and live in the parking lot. Nice.
We chanced upon an area that had electric, working traffic lights and so we set about looking for ice, batteries and lamp supplies in the stores. We had company. Long lines were at the few gas stations that were open. It takes electric to pump gas…
After hitting many stores, we finally scored some D batteries but did not find lamp oil. I gave her mine and just used my candles. We decided to hit a fast-food restaurant if we found one open. We did, an Arby’s, and the drive though line was to the street and the lobby line was out the door and along the side of the building. We went back to Kia Rio and I made us pancakes and eggs on my backpacking stove.
We got back to Mom’s house mid-day, after taking a trip to check on Dad. His decorations were still intact, but the beautiful tree about 30 feet from his headstone had been literally sheared -off about 3 feet from the ground. The thing is probably 12 inches in diameter and the whole tree trunk was snapped. Dad loved where the tree was, and talked about it shielding his grave from the snow. Hopefully they will replant a good sized tree in its place.
One of Mom’s neighbors is a family that runs carnival rides and concessions. Thankfully, they had a huge diesel generator. The man had the good sense to hook it up and bring it home when they emergency evacuated the festival they were set up at. He ran an extension cord from it to Mom’s house so she could plug in her refrigerator. Later in the day he set out an extension box and gave mom a second line and connected 2 other neighbors to it. He said it can power 3 carnival rides with no problem.
Mom’s house had lots of downed branches and her pear tree was hit again. About two weeks ago it was hit by lighting and it was only on Thursday when her neighbor finally came and sawed it up for his fireplace. Now an even bigger section of it is spread out across her back yard. She lots a few roof shingles from the house and a few from the garage and the gutter on the garage was ripped off. Nothing we cannot handle.
The newscasters are saying that it could be this weekend before the electric is restored. This is due to 2 primary factors. 1- the widespread damage - Ike cut a path probably 100 miles wide with sustained winds of 50 to 75 miles an hour and they were wild for about 3.5 hours. Electric lines are down everywhere. The meteorologists called it a level 1 hurricane. The other factor is that many of our emergency workers and utility employees headed to Texas to help with recovery there. They have been recalled.
Ohio is officially declared a disaster area with 84 of our 88 counties suffering damage. The worst of it hit here in Dayton and to the north - Columbus and to the south- Cincinnati.
Mandy was lucky she was not home because the tree in front of her house fell right where she normally parks her car. Fortunately the tree fell across the street, and was just short of hitting her neighbor’s house.
Fortunately, my 3 tubs of earthquake supplies were in the garage, so I was able to whip out the 2 backpack stoves, lanterns, candles and stove fuel. I also have my Eton emergency radio with TV and weather along with a light, siren, and cell phone charger - the radio runs by 3 “AA” batteries or by hand crank. I highly recommend each house to have one. They are only $50. Radio Shack sells them and as it turns out, Walgreens here sells them and had them on sale on Monday for $30. Odd, they are usually raising prices on those types of things in an emergency. I bought one for Mom in Dad’s memory - he would have loved that radio. We are calling the radio “Joe” after Dad.
Anyway, a lot of the gas stations that had electric are now out of gas because people went into panic mode. Luckily, Mom and I had been out on Friday or Saturday and we filled up her tank and I went back and filled mine up, so we had no worries about gas for the car. She heard prices might spike because of the hurricane, so we filled up to avoid the spike. Thank heavens.
Well, I was able to cook meals for me and Mom on the stoves. My electric came back on Tuesday evening about 6:30, just as I finished fixing us a rather decent looking meal for the situation.
Mom still does not have any electric. Fortunately the neighbor is periodically running the huge generator to keep the refrigerators cool. I hope she gets her electric back before the weekend.
My crappy ass digital phone service does not work if the electric is out.
Mom has old fashioned phone service, and I think I will switch providers because I did not care for not having the phone to call her on. My cell doesn’t really work here in the house.
Well, Dayton is still in emergency situation and realistically the power could go back off as it has done for some folks. Precarious situation. It will be next week before life here returns to business as usual.
Thankfully, the weather has been fall like and people have not needed fans or a/c so that is good news.
Snuggie and Jaz are still looking for little Tashi and my heart still aches for his sweet self. Ike’s wrath was a distraction for a while, but now my home life is back to what it was before Sunday.
Jaz still won’t go in the bedroom unless I coax him in while I am there. I am wondering if laying Tashi on my bed while we dug his grave was the best idea. We continue to sleep on the couch and loveseat. Maybe tomorrow I will try to get Jaz to take a nap with me on the bed. Tashi’s absence is most noticeable at night when he should be laying across my feet/shins or between my calves. Trying to sleep there without Jaz and Snuggie to pick up some slack is not fun. The couch is a different space and has no history of Tashi sleeping with me on it.
Time for bed.
Having spent my adult life in CA, I was naively unaware of the magnitude, and oddity, of the storm.
One time when ignorance was somewhat blissful. I was still very sad over my sweet Tashi baby, and glad to have Mom and Mandy to distract me. I was just thinking it was a strong late summer storm.
WRONG.
I was not really paying much attention to the tree tops in the IF, for all I knew they always blew like that in big storms.
Apparently not.
The trees would whip one direction for a few minutes, then stabilize somewhat before whipping around in a different direction. The winds were coming from all different directions with little time between. Had I realized the oddity, I would have watched them more. People who have lived in Ohio for 80+ years say they never saw anything like it before.
Mom later told me she was scared, and she doesn’t get scared of storms. Dad would get scared in storms, but mom is not so inclined, normally.
I naively hung out in the living room on a ladder, scraping peeling and cracked paint. Snuggie was in the basement, mostly because of Mandy and Mom both being there, but probably because he was being a bit smarter than the rest of us. Jaz was hanging out in the living room.
The IF protected Kia Rio, and we escaped with absolutely no damage. Some big branches fell in the IF, and a tree fell and hit my neighbors front porch, but most of us within a 6 house strip, got away with little to no structural damage, and just tree debris to clean up.
The first time I realized the magnitude of what I had just been through was on Monday morning, when I awoke and found the electric was not yet back on. I decided to run up the street to the Shell station and grab a couple of bags of ice for me, Mom and her neighbors. Well, I got about a half a mile up the street, passed several downed billboard sized signs and when I got up to the gas station, this is what it looked like:
The white in the background is the canopy.
I figured they probably were not going to sell me any ice at the moment, so after I closed my mouth, I went over to the station across the street. They sold out of ice on the evening of the storm.
I had heard that some parts of Dayton had power, so I drove toward my friend Mandy’s house and when I got into Dayton I started to see traffic lights that worked and street lights on. It was about 7 am.
I went into store after store - of the few that had electric and were open-- and nobody had ice. I finally gave up after having drove around for a while and having seen an enormous number of trees, limbs and branches down in yards, blocking roads and creating havoc.
I went out to Mom’s and picked her up and we went in search of stores that were open so we could get her more batteries, some lamp oil, ice and other emergency provisions of non-food nature.
While mom and I drove around, we listened to the radio. Over 200,000 in the Dayton area without electric. All schools were closed. A restaurant had caught fire and burned. Just as we approached the Dayton Mall area, the newscaster said that there was a major electrical situation in the south parking lot of the Dayton Mall, with a big set of lines down and live in the parking lot. Nice.
We chanced upon an area that had electric, working traffic lights and so we set about looking for ice, batteries and lamp supplies in the stores. We had company. Long lines were at the few gas stations that were open. It takes electric to pump gas…
After hitting many stores, we finally scored some D batteries but did not find lamp oil. I gave her mine and just used my candles. We decided to hit a fast-food restaurant if we found one open. We did, an Arby’s, and the drive though line was to the street and the lobby line was out the door and along the side of the building. We went back to Kia Rio and I made us pancakes and eggs on my backpacking stove.
We got back to Mom’s house mid-day, after taking a trip to check on Dad. His decorations were still intact, but the beautiful tree about 30 feet from his headstone had been literally sheared -off about 3 feet from the ground. The thing is probably 12 inches in diameter and the whole tree trunk was snapped. Dad loved where the tree was, and talked about it shielding his grave from the snow. Hopefully they will replant a good sized tree in its place.
One of Mom’s neighbors is a family that runs carnival rides and concessions. Thankfully, they had a huge diesel generator. The man had the good sense to hook it up and bring it home when they emergency evacuated the festival they were set up at. He ran an extension cord from it to Mom’s house so she could plug in her refrigerator. Later in the day he set out an extension box and gave mom a second line and connected 2 other neighbors to it. He said it can power 3 carnival rides with no problem.
Mom’s house had lots of downed branches and her pear tree was hit again. About two weeks ago it was hit by lighting and it was only on Thursday when her neighbor finally came and sawed it up for his fireplace. Now an even bigger section of it is spread out across her back yard. She lots a few roof shingles from the house and a few from the garage and the gutter on the garage was ripped off. Nothing we cannot handle.
The newscasters are saying that it could be this weekend before the electric is restored. This is due to 2 primary factors. 1- the widespread damage - Ike cut a path probably 100 miles wide with sustained winds of 50 to 75 miles an hour and they were wild for about 3.5 hours. Electric lines are down everywhere. The meteorologists called it a level 1 hurricane. The other factor is that many of our emergency workers and utility employees headed to Texas to help with recovery there. They have been recalled.
Ohio is officially declared a disaster area with 84 of our 88 counties suffering damage. The worst of it hit here in Dayton and to the north - Columbus and to the south- Cincinnati.
Mandy was lucky she was not home because the tree in front of her house fell right where she normally parks her car. Fortunately the tree fell across the street, and was just short of hitting her neighbor’s house.
Fortunately, my 3 tubs of earthquake supplies were in the garage, so I was able to whip out the 2 backpack stoves, lanterns, candles and stove fuel. I also have my Eton emergency radio with TV and weather along with a light, siren, and cell phone charger - the radio runs by 3 “AA” batteries or by hand crank. I highly recommend each house to have one. They are only $50. Radio Shack sells them and as it turns out, Walgreens here sells them and had them on sale on Monday for $30. Odd, they are usually raising prices on those types of things in an emergency. I bought one for Mom in Dad’s memory - he would have loved that radio. We are calling the radio “Joe” after Dad.
Anyway, a lot of the gas stations that had electric are now out of gas because people went into panic mode. Luckily, Mom and I had been out on Friday or Saturday and we filled up her tank and I went back and filled mine up, so we had no worries about gas for the car. She heard prices might spike because of the hurricane, so we filled up to avoid the spike. Thank heavens.
Well, I was able to cook meals for me and Mom on the stoves. My electric came back on Tuesday evening about 6:30, just as I finished fixing us a rather decent looking meal for the situation.
Mom still does not have any electric. Fortunately the neighbor is periodically running the huge generator to keep the refrigerators cool. I hope she gets her electric back before the weekend.
My crappy ass digital phone service does not work if the electric is out.
Mom has old fashioned phone service, and I think I will switch providers because I did not care for not having the phone to call her on. My cell doesn’t really work here in the house.
Well, Dayton is still in emergency situation and realistically the power could go back off as it has done for some folks. Precarious situation. It will be next week before life here returns to business as usual.
Thankfully, the weather has been fall like and people have not needed fans or a/c so that is good news.
Snuggie and Jaz are still looking for little Tashi and my heart still aches for his sweet self. Ike’s wrath was a distraction for a while, but now my home life is back to what it was before Sunday.
Jaz still won’t go in the bedroom unless I coax him in while I am there. I am wondering if laying Tashi on my bed while we dug his grave was the best idea. We continue to sleep on the couch and loveseat. Maybe tomorrow I will try to get Jaz to take a nap with me on the bed. Tashi’s absence is most noticeable at night when he should be laying across my feet/shins or between my calves. Trying to sleep there without Jaz and Snuggie to pick up some slack is not fun. The couch is a different space and has no history of Tashi sleeping with me on it.
Time for bed.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Tips on Comforting a Grieving Person
The loss of Tashi has caused me to have a renewed and intense period of grieving. He had those qualities of extreme gentleness, never acting in anger, being highly lovable, and a power to make me feel wonderful, just by being in his presence.
In this most recent death, I have begun to reflect on what seems to help, and what doesn't. I know that every single person that has offered any words cares very much for me, and the responses to dad and Tashi are much appreciated.
I also know that people seem to struggle with knowing what to say to a grievng person.
People who chose to say anything at all certainly have the best intentions, and want to be comforting. Sadly, our culture does little to teach us about grieving.
I have more experience with grief than I care too, but that is life. If you venture love, one day you will begin to grieve.
I have had numerous experiences with grief, enough to know a variety of situations from prolonged terminal illness, to old age, and to tragic accidents. I have struggled on both sides of the issue of being the comforter and comfortee.
I have learned a little bit about it, based purely on my personal experience, from being a rather astute student of human beings, and from my interest in Life Coaching.
Here is my nickels worth of wisdom on the subject of comforting adults or older kids:
The condensed version:
DO - understand grieving people are not looking for someone to solve the “problem.” Sayings like “It will get better” are best left to talking about a plant that is being nursed back to health, or a broken leg from a skiing accident, and is not the stuff for grieving people.
DO - ask how they are FEELING -- this is different than “how are you.”
How Are You is the standard social greeting and often generates a socially acceptable “ok” response. It does not really tell the person that you want to do anything more than extend a polite social greeting. It can be confusing for them to know if you are being polite, or really want to listen and help them grieve.
DO - LISTEN to what they are saying. Then ask them to Tell You More.
DO - Be comfortable in listening to their feelings without needing to rescue them or save them. They need to be HEARD, just listen and ask for more details about how they feel. Just let it be expressed.
Your job is to listen, not to fix it.
DON’T - ask about their feelings unless you really want to hear them out and be comforting. If you are not wanting to hear “ I feel like I am being punished” or “I want to curl up and die” then don’t offer to comfort.
DON’T - respond to them with clichés (Time heals - He didn’t suffer - etc). It is not about the deceased, it is about the grieving person you are talking to and they are living in the present moment, not in a future time.
DON’T - do much talking. LISTEN.
DON’T - talk about your own grief experiences - again it is about letting them express and release their emotions.
DON’T - avoid talking about the deceased.
The LP version:
First and foremost, the grieving person is not looking for anyone to “make it better.”
What they need is to express their emotions.
So what helps?
First, let me tell you about what I call:
“how to shut down a grieving person” --
Most clichés people say to a grieving person are NOT comforting or helpful. In fact, many can unintentionally be somewhat hurtful. They often act as a shut-off valve for the emotions the person is trying and needing to express.
“It will get better with time” - When you ask someone how they are feeling, and they respond with something indicating pain and suffering, often the response of “It will get better with time” (and the other clichés) comes across as “I am uncomfortable with hearing about your emotions.”
The grieving person pulls back from expressing their feelings, and may feel like they have burdened you with even mentioning it, or that you may not really want to hear how they are.
If you really do want to comfort someone, and are not just offering up a polite greeting, ask “how are you FEELING” and be prepared for the emotional response.
When they stop speaking, or break down in tears, DO NOT fall back on a cliché of “he went quick, and wasn’t made to suffer” or something else that is a standard response.
It isn’t about the deceased, it is 100% about the person you are with, it is THEIR needs at the very moment that are your focus of comfort.
So, they have laid some emotions out, and are sniveling or wailing or something in between,
Now WHAT?
If they are capable of conversation, ask them if they want to “tell you more about how they are feeling,” this tells them that you understand. It also tells them you are comfortable, and willing to listen to their pain.
It is permission to grieve in your presence.
Be prepared to LISTEN and use your reflective listening skills (if you don’t know what that is, you would do well in life to learn about it for ALL interpersonal interactions).
You should not be doing much talking, aside from reflective listening comments, and more probes for them to tell you more.
If they aren’t able to speak, provide physical support - hold their hand, put your hand on top of theirs or give them a gentle hug.
Keep tissues, water, and a waste basket at hand.
When they are able to speak, go ahead and ask them to tell you more. Let them keep telling you more until they change the subject, which signals they need a break from the emotion.
It really can be that simple.
If you are not really prepared to hear their feelings, do not ask for them.
If it is a situation where someone has come back to work, or you see them at the store and you just want to make contact, don’t ask how they are, just say something like “it is so good to see you” and hug them or clasp their hand warmly and hold it for a few moments.
Offers to “HELP”
“Call me if there’s anything I can do to help.”
People who have been in grief, can tell you that they are not capable of conjuring up something you can do to help.
They can barely get out of bed in the morning. They just do not have the faculty to identify what needs to be done. Finding the front door can be hard.
This generic offering, while well meaning, ends up being empty.
Initiative is called for on this one.
Your actions will depend on how close you are to them. Perhaps you are real close to them. Go to their house and do some cleaning for them, or pick up some food they probably won’t eat, do their laundry, tend their flowers and pets. Do as much general household care as you can without making them uncomfortable or imposing.
My mom had a desperate need to clear out the cupboards and rearrange them after dad passed. This was comforting to her and gave her something to focus on. It did not mean she was actually capable of getting the sweeper run, buying groceries or anything else.
Be alert to what is really going on with the person.
Check their supply of toilet paper, facial tissues, dish soap, shampoo and so forth.
Check their mail for important items - tax bills, auto insurance. When they are in a somewhat lucid frame of mind, ask them about important things such as getting the mortgage payment in.
If you are not that close, drop off prepared food, but do it in the weeks after the death…
Why?
There is a “rush” in those first few days after a death, and then the attention drops off significantly, and sometimes stops altogether within less than a week.
Also, people who are heavily grieving often don’t eat much. After the “rush” is when they need that food prepared. They will need to eat, but not be highly capable of regularly preparing food.
They may need encouragement to eat. Don’t just drop off the food, go around meal time, and actually put the food out, set the table, and invite them to sit down. Don’t force them if they refuse, but make it easy and right there. Habit will often take over, and they will eat because it is on a plate in front of them.
Offer to organize friends and family (make the offer to their close friend or relative, not to the grieving person) so the grieving person gets a regular support person, instead of everyone assuming everyone else is “on it.”
If it is a co-worker, pitch in and do what you can of their work, and tell them a little tiny bit about what you did. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it” is a bit vague. Say some specific things, not great detail, just the basic facts. I sent that package to x. I made the corrections to the report and turned it in.
Help with their emails and phone messages so they are not hit with a bunch of crap when they come back.
Put fresh flowers on their desk for their return, or a favorite candy or something you think they will like. If going for flowers, get something that looks happy.
The co-worker often feels awkward when they first arrive to the office. They know the uncomfortable feeling of not knowing what to say in the situation, and feel awkward for that reason and because they don’t know how they will respond emotionally during the first days.
It can be nice for the closet co-worker to the person to greet them immediately and offer warmth - a long warn double hand hold handshake or a hug, depending on the parties involved. Tell the person to ease into it and that you understand things are going to be foggy for a while.
Check on them periodically throughout the day. Have someone have lunch with them the first few days, otherwise they may skip eating anything at all. Also, they need to get away from the work site for a few minutes. It can be stifling, regardless of how great the company or the co-workers.
If it is a neighbor, help with simple things like the yard, getting the newspaper, bringing the mail to their door, picking up liter. They well may not realize some of what you are doing at the time, like picking up the liter, but that doesn’t really matter because your goal is to help, not to be acknowledged.
I wish Nike had not made the saying famous, but, Just Do It. They don’t know and can’t tell you what they need as far as help.
So, when someone you care about is grieving, just ask them to tell you about it and then just listen.
Look for things that probably need to be done and do it.
Don’t try to fix their pain, it cannot be fixed.
They will never “heal,” it isn’t a broken bone.
True, the pain will become less and less prominent for most people, and they will once again have days that are not all pain. Someday they will mostly be happy, but they will always have that wound. Almost all of us will continue to cry, sometimes totally out of the blue, over a loved one lost decades ago.
Time doesn’t heal, but it does march on.
Emotionally healthy people learn to choose happiness, but grieving takes time, and never comes to a complete end.
Ask and Listen.
Much love, and appreciation for all your support during this tyring year of my life.
In grief,
Tashi's very sad mommy
In this most recent death, I have begun to reflect on what seems to help, and what doesn't. I know that every single person that has offered any words cares very much for me, and the responses to dad and Tashi are much appreciated.
I also know that people seem to struggle with knowing what to say to a grievng person.
People who chose to say anything at all certainly have the best intentions, and want to be comforting. Sadly, our culture does little to teach us about grieving.
I have more experience with grief than I care too, but that is life. If you venture love, one day you will begin to grieve.
I have had numerous experiences with grief, enough to know a variety of situations from prolonged terminal illness, to old age, and to tragic accidents. I have struggled on both sides of the issue of being the comforter and comfortee.
I have learned a little bit about it, based purely on my personal experience, from being a rather astute student of human beings, and from my interest in Life Coaching.
Here is my nickels worth of wisdom on the subject of comforting adults or older kids:
The condensed version:
DO - understand grieving people are not looking for someone to solve the “problem.” Sayings like “It will get better” are best left to talking about a plant that is being nursed back to health, or a broken leg from a skiing accident, and is not the stuff for grieving people.
DO - ask how they are FEELING -- this is different than “how are you.”
How Are You is the standard social greeting and often generates a socially acceptable “ok” response. It does not really tell the person that you want to do anything more than extend a polite social greeting. It can be confusing for them to know if you are being polite, or really want to listen and help them grieve.
DO - LISTEN to what they are saying. Then ask them to Tell You More.
DO - Be comfortable in listening to their feelings without needing to rescue them or save them. They need to be HEARD, just listen and ask for more details about how they feel. Just let it be expressed.
Your job is to listen, not to fix it.
DON’T - ask about their feelings unless you really want to hear them out and be comforting. If you are not wanting to hear “ I feel like I am being punished” or “I want to curl up and die” then don’t offer to comfort.
DON’T - respond to them with clichés (Time heals - He didn’t suffer - etc). It is not about the deceased, it is about the grieving person you are talking to and they are living in the present moment, not in a future time.
DON’T - do much talking. LISTEN.
DON’T - talk about your own grief experiences - again it is about letting them express and release their emotions.
DON’T - avoid talking about the deceased.
The LP version:
First and foremost, the grieving person is not looking for anyone to “make it better.”
What they need is to express their emotions.
So what helps?
First, let me tell you about what I call:
“how to shut down a grieving person” --
Most clichés people say to a grieving person are NOT comforting or helpful. In fact, many can unintentionally be somewhat hurtful. They often act as a shut-off valve for the emotions the person is trying and needing to express.
“It will get better with time” - When you ask someone how they are feeling, and they respond with something indicating pain and suffering, often the response of “It will get better with time” (and the other clichés) comes across as “I am uncomfortable with hearing about your emotions.”
The grieving person pulls back from expressing their feelings, and may feel like they have burdened you with even mentioning it, or that you may not really want to hear how they are.
If you really do want to comfort someone, and are not just offering up a polite greeting, ask “how are you FEELING” and be prepared for the emotional response.
When they stop speaking, or break down in tears, DO NOT fall back on a cliché of “he went quick, and wasn’t made to suffer” or something else that is a standard response.
It isn’t about the deceased, it is 100% about the person you are with, it is THEIR needs at the very moment that are your focus of comfort.
So, they have laid some emotions out, and are sniveling or wailing or something in between,
Now WHAT?
If they are capable of conversation, ask them if they want to “tell you more about how they are feeling,” this tells them that you understand. It also tells them you are comfortable, and willing to listen to their pain.
It is permission to grieve in your presence.
Be prepared to LISTEN and use your reflective listening skills (if you don’t know what that is, you would do well in life to learn about it for ALL interpersonal interactions).
You should not be doing much talking, aside from reflective listening comments, and more probes for them to tell you more.
If they aren’t able to speak, provide physical support - hold their hand, put your hand on top of theirs or give them a gentle hug.
Keep tissues, water, and a waste basket at hand.
When they are able to speak, go ahead and ask them to tell you more. Let them keep telling you more until they change the subject, which signals they need a break from the emotion.
It really can be that simple.
If you are not really prepared to hear their feelings, do not ask for them.
If it is a situation where someone has come back to work, or you see them at the store and you just want to make contact, don’t ask how they are, just say something like “it is so good to see you” and hug them or clasp their hand warmly and hold it for a few moments.
Offers to “HELP”
“Call me if there’s anything I can do to help.”
People who have been in grief, can tell you that they are not capable of conjuring up something you can do to help.
They can barely get out of bed in the morning. They just do not have the faculty to identify what needs to be done. Finding the front door can be hard.
This generic offering, while well meaning, ends up being empty.
Initiative is called for on this one.
Your actions will depend on how close you are to them. Perhaps you are real close to them. Go to their house and do some cleaning for them, or pick up some food they probably won’t eat, do their laundry, tend their flowers and pets. Do as much general household care as you can without making them uncomfortable or imposing.
My mom had a desperate need to clear out the cupboards and rearrange them after dad passed. This was comforting to her and gave her something to focus on. It did not mean she was actually capable of getting the sweeper run, buying groceries or anything else.
Be alert to what is really going on with the person.
Check their supply of toilet paper, facial tissues, dish soap, shampoo and so forth.
Check their mail for important items - tax bills, auto insurance. When they are in a somewhat lucid frame of mind, ask them about important things such as getting the mortgage payment in.
If you are not that close, drop off prepared food, but do it in the weeks after the death…
Why?
There is a “rush” in those first few days after a death, and then the attention drops off significantly, and sometimes stops altogether within less than a week.
Also, people who are heavily grieving often don’t eat much. After the “rush” is when they need that food prepared. They will need to eat, but not be highly capable of regularly preparing food.
They may need encouragement to eat. Don’t just drop off the food, go around meal time, and actually put the food out, set the table, and invite them to sit down. Don’t force them if they refuse, but make it easy and right there. Habit will often take over, and they will eat because it is on a plate in front of them.
Offer to organize friends and family (make the offer to their close friend or relative, not to the grieving person) so the grieving person gets a regular support person, instead of everyone assuming everyone else is “on it.”
If it is a co-worker, pitch in and do what you can of their work, and tell them a little tiny bit about what you did. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it” is a bit vague. Say some specific things, not great detail, just the basic facts. I sent that package to x. I made the corrections to the report and turned it in.
Help with their emails and phone messages so they are not hit with a bunch of crap when they come back.
Put fresh flowers on their desk for their return, or a favorite candy or something you think they will like. If going for flowers, get something that looks happy.
The co-worker often feels awkward when they first arrive to the office. They know the uncomfortable feeling of not knowing what to say in the situation, and feel awkward for that reason and because they don’t know how they will respond emotionally during the first days.
It can be nice for the closet co-worker to the person to greet them immediately and offer warmth - a long warn double hand hold handshake or a hug, depending on the parties involved. Tell the person to ease into it and that you understand things are going to be foggy for a while.
Check on them periodically throughout the day. Have someone have lunch with them the first few days, otherwise they may skip eating anything at all. Also, they need to get away from the work site for a few minutes. It can be stifling, regardless of how great the company or the co-workers.
If it is a neighbor, help with simple things like the yard, getting the newspaper, bringing the mail to their door, picking up liter. They well may not realize some of what you are doing at the time, like picking up the liter, but that doesn’t really matter because your goal is to help, not to be acknowledged.
I wish Nike had not made the saying famous, but, Just Do It. They don’t know and can’t tell you what they need as far as help.
So, when someone you care about is grieving, just ask them to tell you about it and then just listen.
Look for things that probably need to be done and do it.
Don’t try to fix their pain, it cannot be fixed.
They will never “heal,” it isn’t a broken bone.
True, the pain will become less and less prominent for most people, and they will once again have days that are not all pain. Someday they will mostly be happy, but they will always have that wound. Almost all of us will continue to cry, sometimes totally out of the blue, over a loved one lost decades ago.
Time doesn’t heal, but it does march on.
Emotionally healthy people learn to choose happiness, but grieving takes time, and never comes to a complete end.
Ask and Listen.
Much love, and appreciation for all your support during this tyring year of my life.
In grief,
Tashi's very sad mommy
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Life after Tashi
I miss my little meeper so much.
I was just feeling like I was getting back in the saddle, and on the brink of being at a normal level of productivity and such.
Now I wake up at 4 or 5 am and cannot go back to sleep. Tashi would lay across my shins or feet, or between them all night long. When I wake up now, he isn’t there. Now Jaz isn’t sleeping down there either, so there are no cats at my feet to maneuver around. I am hopeful that Jaz or Snuggie will take over his spot in the bed.
Jaz has not gone to the bottom half of the bed since Tashi left us, and he used to spend his afternoons sleeping there as well as sleeping there at night, either with Tashi or on the other corner of the bed.
It is hard to take the absence of him at night, and then I cannot sleep, so I get up and lay on the loveseat for a few hours, unable to sleep there either. It takes hours for the sun to come in the windows, and those are long sad hours.
In fact, this morning, and yesterday morning , Jaz was meowing/yowling at the cat door to get out. He normally doesn’t go out for an hour or 2, or 3 after eating breakfast, but the last 2 mornings he went out immediately. Today he went straight for the Impenetrable Forest where Tashi spent most of every day. He stayed about 30 minutes and came back in, walked around meowed and then went back to the IF. They were very close.
Jaz has washed Tashi since he was a baby. In fact, on Monday night and Tuesday morning both, he was grooming Tashi on the bed. He used to let Tashi swipe soft food from his dish. It was so cute. Jaz would be eating and Tashi would slip a paw into Jaz’s dish and scoop up a little food and eat it off of his paw. He would do that over and over. Jaz would just lift his head from the bowl and let him do it each time, with no attempt to stop him or get upset.
Tashi was Snuggie’s playmate, they would jump on each other and wrestle and play chase. They would race around the house chasing each other, and lay in wait and pounce on each other in the yard. Snuggie spent an extra long time playing with the trackball toy this morning. It is a big plastic disk with a track in it and a ball that sits in the track. They take their paw and push the ball in circles around the track. The center of the disk has cardboard scratch material in it. Snuggie kept looking up for Tashi to arrive. He then started looking to the bedroom as though he was waiting for Tashi to run out from under the bed to play with him and the ball.
Tashi had energy to match Snuggie, and the loviness to match Jaz. He was special to each of us and filled a need in a special way.
Every time I would pet Tashi, or pick him up, I could feel my heart swell with happiness. There was just something special about him that brought pure joy to my soul.
It is hard to watch Snuggie and Jaz look for him. I am spending extra time with each of them, trying to pick up some of what he brought to their life. More loving for Jaz, and more time playing with Snuggie.
When I brought Tashi in the house on Tuesday, I laid him on my bed on a big blue bath towel. Jaz and Snuggie both got up on the bed and sniffed near him at least twice each. When I put him in his box, I sat on the living room floor with him and both came up to sniff. I then sat out on the porch with him for a few minutes before closing his box and both sniffed again. I don’t know if they understood anything from it or not. He had soiled himself in the accident and was bleeding from the mouth, so I don’t know if he smelled enough like Tashi for them to get the general idea. His external body was not damaged, so he looked like himself.
I buried him in the yard near the edge of the Impenetrable Forest, since he spent almost all his time in there. I can see his grave from the office, the living room and the porch.
I have been spending most of my time pacing from room to room and then looking out the windows. I know life will get back to pretty much the “usual” in the next days, but these early ones hurt like the dickens.
The daytime is easiest because Tashi was rarely in the house during the day. He would hang out on the porch in dad’s chair on some hot afternoons, but mostly I did not see him until about 7pm when he would come in and start meowing for dinner, which is at 8:30. He would rub against me and gently nip my legs if I was wearing shorts.
Oh how I miss him.
I was just feeling like I was getting back in the saddle, and on the brink of being at a normal level of productivity and such.
Now I wake up at 4 or 5 am and cannot go back to sleep. Tashi would lay across my shins or feet, or between them all night long. When I wake up now, he isn’t there. Now Jaz isn’t sleeping down there either, so there are no cats at my feet to maneuver around. I am hopeful that Jaz or Snuggie will take over his spot in the bed.
Jaz has not gone to the bottom half of the bed since Tashi left us, and he used to spend his afternoons sleeping there as well as sleeping there at night, either with Tashi or on the other corner of the bed.
It is hard to take the absence of him at night, and then I cannot sleep, so I get up and lay on the loveseat for a few hours, unable to sleep there either. It takes hours for the sun to come in the windows, and those are long sad hours.
In fact, this morning, and yesterday morning , Jaz was meowing/yowling at the cat door to get out. He normally doesn’t go out for an hour or 2, or 3 after eating breakfast, but the last 2 mornings he went out immediately. Today he went straight for the Impenetrable Forest where Tashi spent most of every day. He stayed about 30 minutes and came back in, walked around meowed and then went back to the IF. They were very close.
Jaz has washed Tashi since he was a baby. In fact, on Monday night and Tuesday morning both, he was grooming Tashi on the bed. He used to let Tashi swipe soft food from his dish. It was so cute. Jaz would be eating and Tashi would slip a paw into Jaz’s dish and scoop up a little food and eat it off of his paw. He would do that over and over. Jaz would just lift his head from the bowl and let him do it each time, with no attempt to stop him or get upset.
Tashi was Snuggie’s playmate, they would jump on each other and wrestle and play chase. They would race around the house chasing each other, and lay in wait and pounce on each other in the yard. Snuggie spent an extra long time playing with the trackball toy this morning. It is a big plastic disk with a track in it and a ball that sits in the track. They take their paw and push the ball in circles around the track. The center of the disk has cardboard scratch material in it. Snuggie kept looking up for Tashi to arrive. He then started looking to the bedroom as though he was waiting for Tashi to run out from under the bed to play with him and the ball.
Tashi had energy to match Snuggie, and the loviness to match Jaz. He was special to each of us and filled a need in a special way.
Every time I would pet Tashi, or pick him up, I could feel my heart swell with happiness. There was just something special about him that brought pure joy to my soul.
It is hard to watch Snuggie and Jaz look for him. I am spending extra time with each of them, trying to pick up some of what he brought to their life. More loving for Jaz, and more time playing with Snuggie.
When I brought Tashi in the house on Tuesday, I laid him on my bed on a big blue bath towel. Jaz and Snuggie both got up on the bed and sniffed near him at least twice each. When I put him in his box, I sat on the living room floor with him and both came up to sniff. I then sat out on the porch with him for a few minutes before closing his box and both sniffed again. I don’t know if they understood anything from it or not. He had soiled himself in the accident and was bleeding from the mouth, so I don’t know if he smelled enough like Tashi for them to get the general idea. His external body was not damaged, so he looked like himself.
I buried him in the yard near the edge of the Impenetrable Forest, since he spent almost all his time in there. I can see his grave from the office, the living room and the porch.
I have been spending most of my time pacing from room to room and then looking out the windows. I know life will get back to pretty much the “usual” in the next days, but these early ones hurt like the dickens.
The daytime is easiest because Tashi was rarely in the house during the day. He would hang out on the porch in dad’s chair on some hot afternoons, but mostly I did not see him until about 7pm when he would come in and start meowing for dinner, which is at 8:30. He would rub against me and gently nip my legs if I was wearing shorts.
Oh how I miss him.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Tashi - Aug. 15, 2005 to Sept. 9, 2008
Kia Rio mourns.
My heart broke again today.
My little meeper boy was hit by a car about 3 pm.
It must have happened just moments before mom and I arrived from Home Depot.
His little body was still warm and soft when I picked him up. He must have gone quickly because there was no heart beat or breathing when we found him.
Jaz will be at loose ends for some time to come.
Tashi was that string of lights that lit up my heart. No matter how sad I might be, or angry or whatever, he could come up and make his little meeping sound, or his trilling sound or look at me with his beautiful eyes and put a ray of sunshine in my soul. Never mind the pure joy seeing him spread out flat on the bed.
I am just getting the bathtub fixed. He never got to play in the bathtub here. That was a favorite thing of his.
I miss him already.
Tashi, rest in peace my beloved baby boy.
My heart broke again today.
My little meeper boy was hit by a car about 3 pm.
It must have happened just moments before mom and I arrived from Home Depot.
His little body was still warm and soft when I picked him up. He must have gone quickly because there was no heart beat or breathing when we found him.
Jaz will be at loose ends for some time to come.
Tashi was that string of lights that lit up my heart. No matter how sad I might be, or angry or whatever, he could come up and make his little meeping sound, or his trilling sound or look at me with his beautiful eyes and put a ray of sunshine in my soul. Never mind the pure joy seeing him spread out flat on the bed.
I am just getting the bathtub fixed. He never got to play in the bathtub here. That was a favorite thing of his.
I miss him already.
Tashi, rest in peace my beloved baby boy.
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