It’s been a bad few weeks/months…with friends facing health challenges and worse. In the past week, Liz’s brother John passed, and so we’ve been feeling a little melancholy as we travel. John’s passing was not unexpected, but still hard.
We have not actually “seen” John in the past few months since our last pass thru Chicago. That is unless you count the several Facetime “Ass-dials” we received from him in the hospital, usually at 3AM. In John’s defense, he said he was bored, and not able to really know or see what time it was, and not really able to see or operate his phone that well. Liz always laughed about it, taking care not to make John feel bad about being disoriented…she would usually ask if she could call back…after breakfast!
Liz did speak to John several times a day (during the day) for the past several weeks. The calls always began with John asking, “Where are you” knowing pretty much that the answer was always, “same as three hours ago!” Then Liz would ask “Where are you,” The Answer to which was “still in the hospital, hoping to get to rehab…” I think John liked to hear about our roaming, since his mobility was severely restricted.
I know Liz enjoyed the routine conversations. Liz and John spoke with great regularity, more than in the past few years, so that was good for both. Liz also wistfully went through some of our millions of photos…we had more than a few of John, almost all of which revolved around fishing. John seemed happiest doing that, with Family.
Perspective, one of my Dad’s favorite words, has been important to us on the sadly more and more common passing of friends and family.
On one of our tours, we were joking with our guide, a local indigenous philosopher and general comedian, as we headed for a roadside Tamale place. The driver (who was the guide’s brother, and so I assume was getting much sh*t in Spanish for this misunderstanding) was confused and pulled into the adjacent, roadside, open-air church/chapel. He actually got out, looking for the Tamales… The Guide joked that the church was conveniently located in case we reacted badly to the Tamals … which could be found next door! But what struck me was how he worded the idea of passing on, in this particular case because of a bad Tamal-reaction, but I thought of all these friends and family, who were “not no more coming for Breakfast!!!” We kinda like that way of speaking about those whom we loved and are now departed, because we do still think of John and Ray and Tyra and Nancy and Blair and Bob and other friends every day,. They are still with us, they’re just not physically present and unable to come to breakfast.
Perspective.
We were feeling kinda remote about things in general and this in particular. Similar to but not quite like feeling homesick at Day camp, where the solution offered by the counselors always was to dive into various activities, not succumb and go home. So that is what we continue to do. John’s memorial will be later in the spring, and we’ll be back stateside and able to attend.
Sorry to hear about Liz’s brother. May his memory be for a blessing!
Stay well!
Shelley and I send you or condolences. We hope your memories of Liz’s brother will continue to be a source of comfort thinking of all the happy times (fishing or otherwise) spent together.
Dan and Liz, first off we are sorry for your loss. Looks like you had some great times together. The balance of making plans with all of the increasing challenges that we, family and friends experience as we age can be quite challenging. We have learned to mark plans on the calendar in pencil. More and more of our “plans” center around those who may not be at breakfast tomorrow. It has been both difficult at times and enjoyable, but never regretted. We heard a quote while watching a Netflix series that we keep top of mind. “You want to make God laugh? Tell him you have plans!” Make friends and family a priority while they they still can come to breakfast!