Wednesday, August 3, 2016

A Thing of Beauty

It's interesting watching people die.

After a while you begin to notice the human body just naturally wears out and starts to shut down.

Sometimes the mind's already gone ... or remains sharp as a tact causing great frustration because the body lags so far behind ... and occasionally the two seem to be in sync.

Watching, I can't help but think.

A deteriorating without much of a mind is pretty bothersome to others.

In a dirty trailer in the woods or an expensive, state-of-the-art assisted living facility ... drooling is drooling ... awkwardly sleeping on a sofa on top of someone else facing a blaring television for entertainment has never been under Doctor's orders or recommended by Emily Post.

As common place as it is, it's painful to see.

Knocking on the bedroom door of dirty home on a farm, I tap on the window per his instructions and watch as it takes a full five minutes for him to collect himself to open the front door.

"Hey Micheal!" he beams. "Why can't you visit more? I love our talks!"

So we talk ... about everything ... he remembers the past clearly ... is current on today's events ... wistful over things he'd wished he'd done ... proud of each accomplishment.

"Awe don't leave," he sighs as I stand and hug a body that may as well be slumped over on a sofa drooling.

"I'll be back soon," I smile.

"Please," he says in desperation as I leave bringing on a sadness as I drive away.

Occasionally there are the blessed who go at the same time ... body and mind just quit ... just after dinner with his of wife 52 years and he sits in the recliner to watch "Wheel of Fortune" while the love of his life fixes desert and when she brings it ... he's gone.

I prefer the last way to die but ... damn I'd hate for Sarah to find me that way just after she made me home made Apple Crisp.

I'm noticing it's taking me longer to do things ... cut the grass ... string my guitar ... find my glasses when I'm cussing too much because I can't make the Goddamn screwdriver fit into the screw ... climb out of the car after a drive ... clearly hear something without asking for it to be repeated to make certain I understand.

These things bother me.

I seem to be slowing down and it reminds me that my body may be wearing out.

Sarah will quickly say I no longer take care of myself as I should ... she's like to be in charge.

But I don't mind the way I am enough to take any drastic action ... it's taken me a long time to get to this point ... even in spite of my new deficiencies.

Watching people die mostly makes me grateful for all of the life I have ... the others in my life who make it interesting, bring joy, challenge me, comfort me and shower me in love.

It's not always going to be this way so I'm sure as Hell enjoying right now.

My Dad's last words were, "It was beautiful," and we had no idea what he was talking about.

We'd been joking and he'd been slurring his words and mumbling but, in crazy moment of clarity, "It was beautiful!"

I believe it's a perfect way to sum things up.

When all's said and done ... what I have ... what you have ... what we're not going to always have ... it really is beautiful.

A Thing of Beauty

It's interesting watching people die.

After a while you begin to notice the human body just naturally wears out and starts to shut down.

Sometimes the mind's already gone ... or remains sharp as a tact causing great frustration because the body lags so far behind ... and occasionally the two seem to be in sync.

Watching, I can't help but think.

A deteriorating without much of a mind is pretty bothersome to others.

In a dirty trailer in the woods or an expensive, state-of-the-art assisted living facility ... drooling is drooling ... awkwardly sleeping on a sofa on top of someone else facing a blaring television for entertainment has never been under Doctor's orders or recommended by Emily Post.

As common place as it is, it's painful to see.

Knocking on the bedroom door of dirty home on a farm, I tap on the window per his instructions and watch as it takes a full five minutes for him to collect himself to open the front door.

"Hey Micheal!" he beams. "Why can't you visit more? I love our talks!"

So we talk ... about everything ... he remembers the past clearly ... is current on today's events ... wistful over things he'd wished he'd done ... proud of each accomplishment.

"Awe don't leave," he sighs as I stand and hug a body that may as well be slumped over on a sofa drooling.

"I'll be back soon," I smile.

"Please," he says in desperation as I leave bringing on a sadness as I drive away.

Occasionally there are the blessed who go at the same time ... body and mind just quit ... just after dinner with his wife 52 years and he sits in the recliner to watch "Wheel of Fortune" while the love of his life fixes desert and when she brings it ... he's gone.

I prefer the last way to die but ... damn I'd hate for Sarah to find me that way just after she made me home made Apple Crisp.

I'm noticing it's taking me longer to do things ... cut the grass ... string my guitar ... find my glasses when I'm cussing too much because I can't make the Goddamn screwdriver fit into the screw ... climb out of the car after a drive ... clearly hear something without asking for it to be repeated to make certain I understand.

These things bother me.

I seem to be slowing down and it reminds me that my body may be wearing out.

Sarah will quickly say I no longer take care of myself as I should ... she's like to be in charge.

But I don't mind the way I am enough to take any drastic action ... it's taken me a long time to get to this point ... even in spite of my new deficiencies.

Watching people die mostly makes me grateful for all of the life I have ... the others in my life who make it interesting, bring joy, challenge me, comfort me and shower me in love.

It's not always going to be this way so I'm sure as Hell enjoying right now.

My Dad's last words were, "It was beautiful," and we had no idea what he was talking about.

We'd been joking and he'd been slurring his words and mumbling but, in crazy moment of clarity, "It was beautiful!"

I believe it's a perfect way to sum things up.

When all's said and done ... what I have ... what you have ... what we're not going to always have ... it really is beautiful.