I Believe Ahab Had the Proper Wording.

    "To the last I grapple with thee; from Hell's heart I stab at thee; for Hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee.." Thanks, Herman Melville, you've summed up how I feel about the cancer that's stalking my very life, and skinning it down a bit at a time. I was reminded of the lines from "Moby Dick" by a friend of mine, Daric Smith, who was talking to another friend of mine, Starla Craig, about my Terminal Velocity. It's interesting, that I should be thinking this same thing around the time Daric told me about the conversation with Star. Was it projecting? Who knows, and in the long run, coincidence or just blind luck, it's pretty cool. It's this way, because both times I've fought the damn cancer I felt exactly like Ahab. I couldn't put my finger on it, but that's it, the precise wording and emotion. I surrender a bit of my humanity to fight this silent, slippery fucking killer. I do so, because I know no other way to fight when it's close to trying to kill me. Even with another human, as has happened once. I gave up every ounce of my humanity and compassion one time taking down a crank addict that had beaten a friend of mine's daughter. I didn't stop, not until I was satisfied he wouldn't hurt me or the people I was with. They thought I did kill him, actually. I held on very close to damn near too long. It's what I do with the cancer. Only this time, we will go out together. Neither one of us have the inclination to quit, neither one of us has the will to stop, both of us are animalistic in our approach to killing each other. The cancer is taking away the things I held dear about myself, in order to lower my morale and resistance. I, on the other hand, have sacrificed those things as well, so I can get another grip, force him back down, and continue the duel for a month, a day, an hour. I'm not certain how long, but it is going to take as long as it's going to take. In the end, I will allow Cancer to take my body, and in doing so, this container that holds "Me" will also kill Cancer. It's the sacrifice that will leave my family and friends without my person, but hopefully still holding onto my spirit. In the end, isn't that all any of us can control? How we are perceived is up to the individual, and like anything else, the individual will determine for themselves if we've lived a worthwhile life. In that, I certainly lay my hope.

     Should I have played this out this time? With all the surgeries, chemo, pain, loss of a very dear part of myself, my voice, worry from my loving and caring wife, concerned children. All those things and many more on one side of the scale. It's a heavy load that. On the other side of the scale is (this matters most, in my small mind) Fight it, you lazy shit. You do what you need to do, then extra. Do NOT bend a knee, bow your head, or lie down to simply give in. No, that's not in my nature. It's a hard spot, and a place that puts my family in the same hard spot. That's where the metal hits the meat. In order to make my stand, my close at hand family has to be dragged in right along side me. The siblings, 412 miles north and east, they get dragged in as well. They get the worst of it, too. For that I am truly sorry. I will try to make amends before the entire things chews me up, and I have to let the body die to kill the cancer. The confidence in myself that I've always had runs that raggedy edge of being cocky and an egoist in the first degree. I've prided myself in making tough decisions, and accepting the consequences as the may fall, good or ill. Part of that is what drives me, at the same time part of that is what held me back at my profession. I simply failed to be a diplomat, since that would put a kink in what I believed was the honorable thing to do. You know, don't compromise, constantly point out to the people up the chain from you where they screwed up, usually with a heart felt and terribly loud "Told ya". I still slept well at night. I enjoyed what I was doing, and when questioned as to why I didn't change to get a promotion, I honestly told them "If I'm hugging the well head, I've got a hundred times better chance of having a job the day after the lease sells than you'll have." Very truthful. Also, I've out lasted a few bosses that were complete dick heads and pricks with feet. One I saw around four years ago, he was in our office at Notrees, after Apache bought the lease from Anadarko. I smiled, shook his hand and gave him a pocket knife. "Thanks, Rock, but what's this for?".  "Oh, Liz finally got the last one out of my back that you stabbed in there."  Laughs from a couple of Apache wigs, several other people, and myself. Odd, though, the old prick foreman found no humor in that.  To answer my own question. Ya damn rights I played this out just like I have. It's been the best of times for me, right along with the worst of times for me.  Sadly, it also comes at a price from the family. As with any choice, the price is usually not paid by one person on their own, but is scattered out among several, and not all of those get equal shares of the pain.

    I never realized how much fun it was to be married to a woman who grew with me, and surpassed me at being a force of nature in her own right. She is the cannon that can return my fire with extra zeal and accuracy. She brought the absolute finest in myself. Some of which I'd thought I'd buried years before, but she saw it, and wormed it out of me. I've given her my best and worst, and she has matched me at both, and has run passed me like I was standing still on the best side of the scales. It works out that she still holds me in her hands. She takes my breath away when she comes in the room, can make me cry, laugh, and dance an Irish jig all in a matter of minutes of each other.
   Some time back, in between the fisticuffs I know as cancer, I was having my weekly visit with the Almighty and asked what I did to deserve such a wonderful woman to share my life with. He answered that it cuts both ways on that you dim wit. She asks herself the same question as you asked me. "You mean she asked what she did to deserve a woman like me?" Wrong, Mr Classclown, but you knew that. Maybe she does ask herself that. I've heard her call me her hero, knight in shining armor, and a whole slew of things I just never saw or see myself as being. She sees in me the things I want to be, but never have thought I'd achieved. I am in her debt, for the love she shows, her ability to balance me out. For fighting for me with doctors and insurance. Strong, strong woman. Why in God's good name would anyone want a woman who had to have everything dictated and spelled out for her, is beyond me.  One of the guys that was a Sr when I was a sophomore, Brian, calls our wives "The Gift". More fitting really, than "The Lovely", since Liz has always been lovely as far as I can tell, and she truly is a gift. A gift that keeps on giving of herself, and asks so little of me in return.


All right, I've rambled and blown off time like no tomorrow.  All y'all are loved and in my heart. Now, stay the hell outta my head! I've gotta get more bread LOL

Damn, maybe I'm Not Strong Enough

  When I started this blog, I swore I'd take all of you along with me, bad, good, horrid, indifferent, regardless of what was going on, I'd write about it, so that if any one of you have to face it yourself, or with a loved one, it wouldn't be so scary. You'd have an idea of what was going on, in generalities, because each person is different. That was the intent. Lately, though, I've not kept up with this daily, or even weekly, and I apologize. To do it right, I need to write something, even if it's "I'm too tired" or "I'm hurting to much", so you all at least know that I'm able to communicate and continue on. It's getting terribly difficult to do that. I went to get coffee with the guys three times this week. It's still nice to be around them and some other folks, but it's getting harder to force myself to do that. I do it to prove that it's not beaten  me down yet. The fucking cancer is trying, but I'm just arguing with it all the time to leave me the hell alone. It, like teenage kids, is not listening. I believe it's found a chink in my armor and it whittling away at that, daily. The truth is, I keep out lasting how long I think I would have made it, and it's scooting in on ten months since I got the word. Maybe it's pissed off and it working more steadily. Maybe it's pissed off and is taking some time to gather up some power shots and overly strong kicks. That's really what it feels like. I don't notice much change, then all at once, wow. The last three weeks have been "The Wow" kind of weeks. Things hit really hard the last three weeks. I get adapted to one new set of fun, and another starts up, adapt to those two and and third hit me Saturday. Wow

   
  It's been tough. Not only on me, but family and friends as well. I thought, well I still think, that I was strong enough to carry this load and help everyone else as well. Some days I doubt that I am that strong. I also think I'm letting a lot of folks down. There's no basis for that, I don't believe, but I feel that way. Mostly family. I feel like I didn't do enough for all of them. That my guidance to my siblings was weak and so flawed. Yes, I felt responsible for being a guide for them as well as my own. I know I've not shown that enough lately, that's my shortcoming and I don't think I can fix that with the time I've got left. That should have been done for the last thirty years, not thirty months. I made some decisions that were very hard for me, and maybe they weren't the right decisions, but they are made, the consequences have come and done their thing and now it's time to look ahead a bit. I hope that those people who feel I let them down, shorted them in some way, or made them feel badly about themselves can find the room in their hearts to forgive me, as I ask them to, and have asked in the past.
 
  Maybe I'm not as strong as I thought I was when this all started. Maybe that's been me fooling myself. Could be, I hope as this goes along I am as strong as I thought and projected. I've always told people, "If I'm  not smiling or laughing when I tell you I'll do something, it'll get done." I always tried to live up to my own hype. I'd say I've made it about 90% of the time. That's pretty bold, 90% success rate. I'll leave that up to some of my buds. I know that in the last 10 or 12 years, I've been asked and gladly helped, cover people's backs when they expected trouble.  I've helped several people move up the ladder ahead of myself. For two reasons, really.They were young men, smart, gung-ho, and tried to do things right the first time. Much to my pride and pleasure they moved right along and moved up with the companies I've worked for, which makes me very happy for them. Now, the question is, why didn't I bust in for myself and take those jobs? The only job I ever wanted, other than pumping, was well tech. I had no interest in being a foreman, or anything higher. I liked helping to train the new guys on how to work safely, what to do in certain situations, and to think ahead just a little. Bragging on myself I think I was a pretty decent instructor, or I hope I was at least. But Well Tech, to me, was the best job I could have for myself. Lots of hands on work, still, a bit of leadership, and enough responsibility that I enjoyed the gig from the first day I worked it until I couldn't any longer.  I should have been doing that eight or ten years sooner, but I couldn't keep my damn mouth shut. It turns out that was my best advise to anyone. Stay shut up, work along, offer ideas and don't get butt hurt if they aren't used. Most importantly don't say "I told you so" if the bosses idea falls on it's ass, they know it did and don't need to hear it from a flunky. That works in any workplace.


  Geez Louise, I've rambled and gone over stuff I've already talked about ad nauseam.

  Truly and honestly? I don't know where I'll find the strength to leave this plane and head toward the great unknown without worry. Not about myself, I'm going, that's written in stone. It's more about family, friends, and acquaintances that I've made over 53 years. Have I given of myself enough to help them? Did they find something in themselves they didn't see, but I tried to show them? Man, I hope so. I'll leave a bit more comfortably if that's the case.


I'd love to ramble on, but I'm tired, sore, and worn out from being both. Love y'all. Be good, hear?

If I Sleep Most of The Day, I'm Awake All Night. Go Figure

  Man, I'd been getting a realistic amount of sleep at night, and it was good. Saturday night I bomb out about ten, late for me, actually, and don't wake up until 0730. Long sleep. I get my drugs fixed and in, have my morning formula, got the paper, dug out the funnies and went right back out about 0900. Slept until about 1030, had my second feeding of the day, and all this time I'm adding copious amounts of water and liquid in since I'd felt a bit dehydrated when I woke up. That's the way it went all day. I'll bet dollars to donuts I wasn't awake for more than a 45 minute stretch all day long. Throw in hour and a half to three hour naps, and I slept far more than I was awake. So, it's 0230 Monday, and I've been awake since 1800 Sunday. I will burn out about 0800, I can catch a nap right after I feed, then it's Therapy and home by 1100. I'll be bushed. The good thing is, I'll be able to get back on track for my regular sleep pattern on Monday night. Still, it dicks me up, I get irritable for a couple of days after, since I'm not doing anything that would interrupt my normal daily behavior. Hard to tell why I get this way. Cancer? It's currently catching all the shit for things that go wrong with me, whether that's the problem or not. The handiest scapegoat, as it were, may not be the real problem. It could be several things either alone or combined with other things like…..you guessed! cancer. Or hell, maybe I'm getting to be whiney in my old age.  What ever the reason, honest or just made up, it's a pain in my ass. Oh well, piss, it's really not a big deal unless my evening cavorting around doesn't let my loving and beautiful wife get the sleep she earns and needs. I would hope that she would tell me. But, there's always the chance that I get bored with the same old routine and this is how I break that up, subconsciously. Far greater minds than mine will have to decipher that shit. It's easier for me to just sit around and dream up shit for other people to think about. I'm the idea man, for sure and for certain.

   One thing I'm missing when I sleep is remembering my dreams. I've always had such vivid dreams, and have been able to remember nearly the entire thing. People who study dreams and dreaming also say you can't pick up a dream again if you wake up. I, in my case at least, call bull shit. I've always been able to pick up a dream right where I left it when I fall back asleep. Sometimes they seem to last a long time, other times it's just to put an ending on the dream. Now, is that weird or what? Personally I think it's just pretty neat. I also have been able to, if the dream seemed crucial to me on some level, to see my hands and feet. I've been able to do that for as long as I remember, and several years ago I read an article in National Geographic, I believe, that stated that was a way to control your dreams. If that is the case, I've done that more than just a couple of times. Controlled the direction the dream took, so as to keep it from going willy nilly. How sad would that be, having your dreams run amok? I've had a couple of dreams lately that were on one hand somewhat distressing, and on another were kind of rays of hope. Not that I would wake up completely cured and ready to go back to work. No "Who Shot JR?" dream BS, or like the cheated way that "St. Elsewhere" ended. But, they made me very thoughtful and sorta forced me to look a bit deeper within myself. There's nothing wrong with that at all, but I'm going to talk with the one person who helps me interpret what I dream, and has for a long time. She's fairly spot on with them, and I want to run past her what these mean, or if it's putting pictures to my hopes and desires. Very possible it's that exactly.
   I used to dream in both color and black and white. Is that odd, or something normal? I've never really thought about it until lately. It's not worrisome, it just seems sort of strange. I'm curious if anyone else dreams in black and white. I don't know if that's odd, or just really creative. I figure we would all dream in color all the  time, since that is how we see the world. Not so for those who are blind or nearly so, or anyone that has a medical condition that precludes seeing colors. But I figure that the majority of us see in color and dream that way. One of the things I'll be looking into when I get to the other side of things. I'll also be hunting for a way to communicate with folks on this side. I'm sure there's a phone booth somewhere with the prefix for the living

BREAK TIME!!! DRUGS, FEED, AND A NICE WARM SHOWER!! I SHALL RETURN!!!

   I am back. Boy, that was a long break. Then again, the longer I am up and around, enjoying myself just hanging around, the more quickly I wear out. One would say "Holy shit!!! I get that way as well,  you bozo!" Then we'd all have a laugh, with me laughing the loudest. Or at least I hope so. being able to laugh is about the only thing that keeps me together during all the crap that goes along with waiting around for the old shades to be drawn one last time.  I truly am tired. That part gets worse all the time. Or better, I suppose, depending upon ones ability to get over being tired. (originally, that wasn't a problem, now it seems to be.)  Good grief, I'm almost as far into this as I can stand. I'm oscillating between sleep, nearly asleep, and out cold that's an old dead trick to pull on a fella.

  Okay, that's it. I've fallen asleep enough times and with one of them I had two and half pages of "ssssssssssssssssss………". So no, I'm finished for the day. My wide awake has gone out for the evening. Until tomorrow, or possible the next. Or in a few at the worst, goof night America, and all the ships at sea (yep, plagiarized) sorry Edward R. Murrow, but that's too good of a line to let go.

Well, This Is Odd For Me Lately

     Not sleeping is odd for me as of late. Geez, eight, nine months ago I was happy if I got three or four hrs of sleep total in a day. But lately, say the last month, I've been sleeping pretty good at night. Last night and the night before, man, I score seven hrs sleep both nights. Lately it's been five or six consistently and that's not counting a couple of naps during the day. There is no joy in Muddville this night. I napped off and on most of the day (I'll talk about that in a bit), a little more than usual, but I felt out of sorts. I'm also finding I was worried. Worried about things I can't control, and things that I didn't put any stock in before. Silly shit, to me. Things like "I wonder why I feel tired?" or the direct opposite of that. Squirrelly shit for certain. I worry about the blog, for heaven's sake. I know why I haven't been as active. I am tired, and it seems to me I'm in a pretty general routine. Which, since I can't sleep tonight, I find I'm in error on that. Definitely not a routine of any kind, in any way, shape or form. That's odd for me too. Several things are odd for me. Most I'm sure are physically induced either fighting or being over taken by cancer. There is the drug factor to toss in there as well. So yeah, that anything doesn't feel odd should be the news of the blog,  right? Weird how my mind is working so early this morning. Part of it is, I lost a separate blog that I worked on for some hour and a half about routines. It wouldn't let me save any of it. I lost it. It occurred to me, though, that I'd done a post about routine. Falling back on old news is nearly as bad as all the films that are remakes of stinkers from the 1970's and 1980's. So anyway, odd for me.

   The sleep thing is odd, not like me at all, at least even when I was healthy I didn't sleep like I do now. Golly, what could cause that? Hmmmmmm…CANCER! Yeah, that's what caused that. Duh to me. I fought sleeping a lot tooth and nail for a long damn time. Why? Well, because I'm a bozo about some of that stuff, and in my little world on the Planet Rock, only people that were about to cash in their chips slept this much. Funny, it turns out I really wasn't sleeping all that much. Six to eight hrs a day. Which is normal and a good thing for an adult. Average six to eight hours a day of sleep and be sure to take your One A Day and Metamucil. I skip the One A Day and Metamucil, but the sleep has been nice, honestly. So, why does it bother me so much. Well, frankly it didn't. I didn't sleep big stretches at a time, but I got 8 hours a day in since January 23rd 2013. I have been getting eight hours or more for a long time. I just did them during the day time. It worried Liz though. That's one thing she shouldn't sweat and that's my sleep. The Hospice Nurse and I both would say "Really, it's okay if Rock doesn't sleep the time in one big chunk, as long as he gets it in, that's fine." Liz would nod and say okay, but I could see the gears whirl just a bit, and she'd bite her lower lip. No, not the sexy "Come Hither" lip nibble, but rather the "man, I don't know about that" worried lip nibble. So, I tried to stay awake most of the day, and then sleep more hours with her. In fact, I have been having her wake me up before she leaves for work. Got her ass fooled this morning. In about 20 minutes I'm going to fix a couple of collars of tracy tubes, snag a shower, feed, get dressed, and hopeful she will be well on her way to work before 0300.

  I've  been off a bit myself lately. I can't seem to gather myself up like I could before. My hearing is definitely getting worse. The tinnitus is getting worse, not at the rate it has for several years, but really quickly. I'm losing more and more of the tones I used to hear pretty well. If my youngest son talks a little slower, I can catch every word her says, without having to face him. Liz, though, and most other women, I'm losing the ability to hear them. I have to stop Liz, and turn her face to me so I can get what she's saying. It's annoying to me, I can't imagine what a pain in the ass it is to her. I've noticed as well my eyesight isn't as good. That's easily explained, I've not had an eye exam in 2 years. My night vision is worse, for sure. Not so bad yet I can't drive at night, it's just not comfortable to drive at night. Geez, at four years ago I was going to throw in Arlington at the Texas Celtic Festival. It's a nice ride on a bike, if the traffic isn't bat shit. I'd leave Midland about noon on a Friday, fiddle around and get to Arlington in time help with the novice class, crash out at friends, and throw on Saturday. That year, a co-worker suddenly needed off Sunday. Yes, they asked if I'd work. Well, I guess, but I paid for these games already, and it's too late for a refund. (I tried to make it seem like an arm and leg to get in, I think it was $20). So, here's what I did. Up and on the road at Midnight, no extra clothes except for the kilt and an extra tee shirt. Not quite true, I packed work clothes too. Road into Arlington, ate at my favorite Waffle House, not my standard meal, but two omelets and the small hamburger steak. Tripped across the street and picked up a big assed cup of Starbuck's. Rolled onto the campus and festival parking. Had time for a 45 minute nap after I got into game gear. Threw fairly well, in that I didn't take last. Hydrated up like there was not tomorrow, road back to Midland. Slept three or so hours in the work truck. Rolled that damn thing to the field office in Notrees. I got a 30 minute nap, and who is the first person I see? The guy that just had to have Sunday off. He told the boss noon Saturday that he would work, and he'd call me and tell me….never called me, the little fucker. I did, however, charge them 6 hrs OT for my trouble. No one complained. So, that all ended with this cancer. I literally couldn't and still can't do any field work. Depressing as hell. That's why I take meds for depression. No fool am I. There are some other things that are going on, more annoying than anything else. I'm sitting her debating whether to even mention them. Give me a few minutes. Time to wake Liz up.

 Well, the lovely Liz is awake and probably at work by now. Am I going to mention some of the other things? No, not yet. They aren't consistently problematic as of yet. As I said before, more annoying than problems, really. Then there are the never ending knob gobblers. Like staying up with the number of collars and trach tubes I have fixed so I'm not caught unawares. Along with a running inventory for formula, gravity bags, collars, tracy tubes, tape (cloth and paper), cleaning brushes….just the daily shit that will drive ya to jackin off.  Although, I am going to ask about what seems to be a new neuropathy in my left leg, and right hand. Tingling where there hasn't been. Taking stock of the pulse and Blood Oxygen I show pretty normal when they are acting up. Today's buzzing lasted about 20 minutes, my pulse was 72, blood ox was 96%, nothing to complain about there, I wouldn't think. The lymphedema therapy still works, and if I can get in again, a full body massage certainly helps me AND the lymphedema therapy.

  Maybe I didn't sleep tonight because I've only had one dream that I can remember in the last month and that was a wide awake gasping for air ready to kill something blood curdling nightmares.  THAT'S something I haven't had in years. I'm not certain what brought this one on, and I can't remember much only what ever it was didn't get the upper hand in what ever it was doing. I know this, because I heard my own pre surgery voice yell "Not this time, fucker! Not anytime!" Which is really weird, because I can't remember what my voice sounded like. I can hear this POS voice I had for about 7 months, but not my regular voice. Liz said it was loud and boomed, and if I got angry, birds fell out of the sky when I yelled. I think that's stretching it. Boy, talk about losing a part of you. When you can't remember how you sounded….there ain't much more they can take that's really you.


Alrighty, todays mission, if you decide to accept it, is to Get up offa yo ass and dance dance dance

Another Great Weekend, and Reflection

  Wow, the weekend was great. I got to visit with my son and his family. Watched Liz put up amazing numbers at the Texas Scottish Festival, and in my heart hopes that she continues. Friends and family here are great for the time after I'm packed into that nice Mahogany box all ashes and gone. The camaraderie of the other athletes, and some time to vent off a bit of sadness, anger, and just lose the world for a couple of afternoons would be great for her. I do hope she stays with them. For me, it was a day of jaw dropping amazement, unadulterated love, and a plain old ton of pride. I truly believe that she is the woman that, God, or what you would like to call the Higher Power (yes, kids, there is one) had chosen for me. The time, the reason, the way everything has played out, including this terminal cancer, has been, for me at least, to have Liz by my side.  I've taken chances, and done things I might not otherwise have done without Liz by my side. She is my confidante, lover, advisor, and friend. Not everyone finds that in their life, and to others, being married at all isn't something that works for them. Bad people? Of course not! It's just not their thing. It doesn't make a tinkers damn to me whether or not a man or woman is married, it's whether they are happy with their life. I'm thrilled with mine, even when I'm cussing the cancer for cutting it short. There are lesson's to be found in Hospice Care, just as there are when a person is healthy and just banging along. This is how I love my life, and a big part of Amour De La Vie. For me at least, at this time in my life, healthy or dying, this is my Amour De La Vie.

  So, a little reflection was in order as well. Watching the Games, riding with Liz, talking with Chance, Stephanie, and Wyatt. I'm not well. I'm not going to get any better, and before it's all over, I may have more pain than I had to deal with this weekend, and realizing I'd forgotten my morphine. Liz tried to pull the blame of herself for that. But, I'm cognizant, I should have had all that packed and not left it up to Liz to do for me. But, she insists, it's her way of helping. Awwww, shit, so I went a couple of days fighting some pain. No big deal. It was a celebration for me, whether anyone picked that up or not, I'm not certain. What I found was somewhat stunning to me.

  I've always prided myself in being able to shut the works down when people need a strong figure, who's not falling to pieces while the rest of the people around them are doing just that. Then I find a place to turn it all loose with just me around. It was a privacy I sought more than once over more than just a few people. I was listening to Chance and Wyatt talk this morning while I was getting my drugs in and and getting ready to take everyone to Waffle House (I can't believe there isn't one in Midland/Odessa), and I could hear myself. Not literally, but the words and the tone were me, and then Wyatt laughed. Liz was in the kitchen with me, and I'm welling up. I wrote her a note, "My God Liz, when did I let my heart get taken out in so many directions?".  I didn't realize it had. But in that instant, I could feel it in a so many places all at once. First and foremost with family, then friends.
  There are times when I've not been the best sibling. I hope that Kate and Clay understand that, and forgive me. They are never far from my heart, ever. Heck, there are a number of people that have a piece of my heart and I didn't even know it, until I started going over things in my life, and how some folk I feel closer to than the far vast majority of other people. It dawned on me that I've got brothers and sisters out there that aren't blood kin, but I feel for them much the same as I feel for my blood kin.
 Now, I've had to ask myself, "how weird is that shit?"  For the old me, that  would have been more weird than any of the things coming along, like cancer. Or any other malady that has come my way. No, I certainly didn't think I had spread myself out that thin. It's not a bad thing, but it surprised the crap out of me. I'm not even sure how to look at this seemingly ongoing occurrence. Do I just go with it? Well,yeah, because there is is no changing the fact that it's happened and still is happening, or at least I think it is still happening.
  Or, is this something that's just been going on forever and a day, and I'd just managed to pack it all away, and with the cancer it's able to see a bit of light? Slips out every once in a while? That could be true as well. I'm beginning to believe that's what it is. It's not that I'm that closed off, I slipped off pieces of my heart to a lot of people, and now, as I see the end coming even though I don't know the date or time, it's coming, and it makes me take stock of what I truly love. How ever it's working, it's new to me. It could be the lesson I was kept here to learn. About not being so prideful. That, too, was slow coming, and it's still trying to make a covered exit.

  What ever the reason I've been overwhelmed more than once in the last month or so. Especially when I think about the people and things I'm going to miss. My son graduate HS and go onto college, I hope. I won't see the grandkids grow and become young men and women, if they have a girl, I may miss that part as well. That may really be the deal after all. I've got all these people I truly love with all my heart and I won't have the chance to see that come to fruition. Good gravy, that's something isn't it? That I've tied myself so tightly to these folk that I won't be able to see them become all they can? Hmmmm, that's the nature of being human though. None of us see exactly how grandkids turn out. Hopefully our own children reach that age and watch their own children lead good lives. What ever it is, I've certainly been filled with a lot more emotion of late. Strange days, these are.                    

This One Is Short, It's A Brag On Liz. Keeper Of My Heart (90% of it. explained in an upcoming post)

   My wife, Liz Cook Smith is an absolute, total, badass from the word Liz. She can be as feminine and comforting as any other woman. More so than most, because she keeps herself tight. Well, that was a dumb choice of words. Close, she's hard to get past that outside shell. She's hard as a stone, and to the untrained eye, you'll find no sign upon her. I'm trained. I see how she holds…..nope, no one gets any damn secrets about how to get into Liz's shell unless she wants you there. Watch, you'll see some, try to early and you'll pull that arm back with just a stub. But, she is the most kindly, loving woman I've ever known. Yep, even my loving kindly mom Bev, to me, pulls in a close second. Both Bev and Liz were fierce about defending their kids. (Now according to Sarah Smith Holmes, someone that looked a lot like her daddy kicked a door in at way out west in town, when that man that resembled her dad, started to talk and that manager locked his door). If you hear that tale, trust me, Liz is tougher.

  She takes care of me as well. I can see, once in a while when her guard is down,  I can see it hurts her as much as it does me. She has the bravest face on earth, even when we are both having a moment, all I see is her face and I know regardless what happens, I'm okay.

  Okay, so now you know a bit more about Liz. This is my HUGE brag. For 10 years I've been telling Liz "God Liz! Come throw with me!!! It's fun! The people are great! And I don't feel right going out after the games with the guys, not because I'd do something wrong, but because it's just not as fun.". So, this year at the Scarborough Faire Highland Fling Weekend they gave a big speech about me, and how I was a big part of the games (there was always a nice last place guy who wouldn't be mad if I were there ha ha ha ha), and on and on. They gave me a bit of time to speak, and I allowed how it was them who blessed me by allowing me into the Highland Game family, everyone had watery eyes, I think it was really bright and you know how that can make your eyes water. Anyway, on the way home, Liz asked if it would be okay if she did a set of games in my honor. After I used a spatula to get my tongue off the floor, I calmly replied, "Why, that just sounds capital!" We'll have time, and I'll talk with Bull and see if you can get into Arlington. It turns out that was no problem at all. So we work along doing the daily house stuff, because I want things fresh when she throws, right? Yeah, shit a brick man, I got sick enough I seriously thought I was dying. People kinda giggled, so I figured out I wasn't. Whew. Wednesday and Thursday I could only have felt better if I'd been shot, again, no would give a brother a hand with that. Creeps. So, I bemoan the fact that I have to get Liz to Arlington, and she laughs. She knows how to make me force myself to get well ahead of time. We left late Friday afternoon and got into Grand Prairie in time to visit a bit with Oldest Son Chance and Newest Daughter In Law Stephanie. I wanted to get Liz carbed up before the game started. So, I did my drugs, and fell asleep in the chair. I know, too, that if we get there early enough, no parking fee. Seemed like for ever before things started.

  Okay, this is why Liz has to stay with it. I listen to her first event. Distance on throw 1,2,3? Wait. What? Holy shit! Really??? All day I was like that. I tried to take pictures of her, I couldn't, not in the throwing events. Her form was so close to spot on that I was mesmerized. She put up Big Numbers! Oh My God I am so proud of her!!!! She can only get better. She's old enough to play in women's masters division. Oh God, I wish I could stay around long enough to hug her after every game. If she stays with it, I promise. PROMISE Liz, Promise, that I'll hold your hand after every game you play in, if you'll stay with it.

  I love you baby, it took three spirit guides and judging from the time length it took to get them together, about 800 years to get it right. I'm not leaving your right away. I'll follow you until I'm sure you're safe and happy, then I think I've got work to do after. When we catch up on the other side, in 40 or so (50) years, I'll have a place for us to kick back with good friends, where we can ride the bike, throw heavy shit, and continue this love affair that started a thousand years ago.