This Is The Long Road

These months ahead marks our family's long march of remembering. This is the time when we knew Joe was dying and we held on to every word, every breath, every visit from this day forward. We were, as my grandmother would say, "at the bottom of the barrel".

We "circled the wagons" for the toughest fight of our lives, the battle of holding on tight to life and letting go, knowing that this day may be our last conversation. Heading straight on to death is unsettling, disturbing and brave. The ability to have the chance to talk is a gift, but the road to deterioration is heartbreaking. Joe was with us until the last six weeks, which at that point he slipped into a drug induced state to control his pain. His body was here but his mind was gone. When looking back from the time of his last recurrence to his death we only had about two months of Joe. And then he slipped away.

But he knew we were by his side and never alone. And that made his death graceful.

"Get Low"

My breath was taken away by this movie. In Robert Duvall's words, "get low" is about taking care of your business before you go. Settings things straight, asking for forgiveness and, sometimes with humor, saying goodbye to those you love.

Some of us will be fortunate to go quietly in our sleep, others such as my son Joe, will struggle until the end. But one thing I know when we feel our time has come we "get low", hopefully we have the chance ask for forgiveness, tell our story and what made us tick. Many times there is not that opportunity, we are whisked away without another word, leaving our loved ones wondering about our lives.

In "Get Low" Felix built a self imposed prison, essentially cutting himself of from everyone, and burdening himself with his guilt with no one to share his grief. We all have one or two things in our lives we are not proud of and so many more times we brushed aside each others interests. The lesson is to be genuinely interested in your family and friends everyday; not build our self imposed prisons or hide our imperfections.

Krismas is coming

Not Christmas, but Krismas my college roommate is coming to visit me and I can't wait. She was the perfect roommate, you know the one you always hoped you would get, that loved you no matter what was going on in your life. The one who would stay up all night with you to write that paper you should have done three weeks ago. The one who finds you after twenty years and it is like you never skipped a beat.

We all have one roommate in our lives that was special, one we remember, one you connect with and one that you are so very thankful to find again. Well, Krismas you are the winner.

The New Lady on the Block

If you have not been to the Mint Museum Uptown it is a must see. The Cultural Center uptown is a gem and the anchor is the Mint Museum. You are in the midst of such rare and beautiful pieces of art in an open and gracious space. And right beside the MMU is the Bechtler with an extensive personal art collection, the Harvey Ganntt African American Museum and the Knight Theatre.

To those who had the vision of bringing the arts to Charlotte in a very big way, and the years of work to make it happen, thank you for putting another jewel in the Queen's City crown.

The Beginning of Goodbye

A year ago this was the weekend that marked our family's journey of saying goodbye to Joe. Tony and David arrived home from school and prepared themselves to sleep at the foot of Joe's bed. When we suggested returning to McCallie they stubbornly dug in their heels, resisting any suggestion of that since it was the last months of their brother's life. Mike caught cat naps and slept through the night to keep working. At this point we stopped helping Joe up the stairs and he moved in to our bedroom. We read to him but he could not follow the stories, we talked about our memories but he could not remember, and as awkward as it sounds, we talked about the future. Joe was in the moment for a little while but he would always slip away. Two weeks from now he did not recognize his bothers or his dad. Seven weeks from now he thought every day was Thanksgiving. Six weeks from Thanksgiving Joe was gone. Ten months later we still remember Joe as he was, still looking at the door during every college break expecting him to arrive, still missing his beautiful face and his timely uncanny wit. But these are dreams and not reality.

What If

What if Joe had not had cancer and lived, or we never moved from Dallas, Texas; where we were so happy. What if Tony did not have Type 1 diabetes, or if Tony and David did not have asthma. What if those burdens were not part of our lives and we would haved lived a life without heartbreak. What if our only concern was what they wore to school, what they ate for breakfast or just worry about their grades.

No, this family's concerns are about larger issues. It is about Tony and David dealing with losing a bother, us a son, getting through the holidays, Joe's birthday, and living with a large void in our lives.

What if none of those ever happened...

David

I love to write. Whether it be in my journal or my blog, I just find it comforting.

But David's words are laid down on the page like satin allowing us to follow his stories smoothly. You can feel the touch on your shoulder like it was yesterday, the smell bread baking in the kitchen or the way you felt coming home from school being surrounded with the familiarities of what you left behind.

When he reads he describes it as tumbling in to the pages, drinking in every character and plot. He admitted to learning about dating from Jane Austen and experiencing death with Scout. But what strikes my heart is how eloquently he writes about Joe. Well, for a young man it is incredible.

I have kept every story David has written, and I am always amazed how each one is better than the last. How they draw me in wanting to keep turning the pages to the end only to be once again wowed. So my dear son keep your journal close, your pen full of ink and your computer fully charged. I want to read everything you write.

The College Essay

Finding "X",or describe two different types of people in the world are their essay choices for the University of Chicago. Not easy to answer nor to simple explain, but for some reason they found a way to write about these questions.

Tony wrote about "what is x" ending with finding "y" after losing Joe. David wrote about people who look up into the sky, and those who look to the ground; describing himself as the latter feeling the heaviness of his sadness, as if wearing a yoke, and living without Joe.

I post this tonight since I am amazed that Tony and David, who after losing a brother they dearly loved, found the strength to write such personal college essays.