A New Love

I have tried to write a post about this latest chapter in my life... but... it didn't feel right.

Now a good friend has asked me some pointed questions and in answering her I wrote from the heart and I think, with a little editing to protect some privacy, I can share it with you.

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Fair enough.

I tried to write a post about it... but, I have to be delicate about M's rights, ---'s rights, and share the elements I feel are most important, all are difficult.

Perhaps what I write now can be the seed and rough draft for a post.

So, here goes.

I'll answer your questions in roughly the order given.

How Long have I known M? Not long. I exchanged emails for a couple of weeks through eHarmony. Out first date was September 28. Our second date was September 29th. Our third date was September 30.

She does not have children. She has never been married. She had one serious relationship about 18 years ago. She has been praying for someone to share her life with, but gave up just 3 weeks before I contacted her. She prayed about it and told God she would give it one more try, me, before settling for a single, celibate life.

Since that first week we have gotten together about once a week. She comes down and stays with her friend, J, in Hillsboro. J had talked her into moving down to Oregon. So, just as we met, she was moving her furniture from her condo to a storage unit and looking for work in Oregon. She now has leased her condo out and is staying with her brother until she can find a job here, staying with her current job in Kirkland until then.

I spoke with T about her quite a bit. In fact I have arranged for him to provide couple's counseling and she and I have already taken the initial surveys (Christian) and the initial reports are already back.

I also called a meeting with my Moon Howling buddies and spent quite a bit of time sharing with them about this.

Would DG approve? I think he does. We have gone over there and had desert with them. I've spoken with him several times, and he has had no words of warning, and I he wouldn't be shy.

There are the answers to your questions, now for the real stuff.

I have thought about this a great deal, and have prayed over it an enormous amount.

I have questioned myself... is this because I am lonely? Is this because I want a woman in my house? Nope, nope.

I looked around. I have been discriminating. --- is a good person. But, she wasn't for me, I am not right for her.

That is all I want to say about that except, I watched our relationship, and did not push it past what was right. I knew when it was time to rethink it.

At one point in eHarmony I had 168 women on my match list. I looked carefully at them. I corresponded. There were probably 30 or 40 I emailed more than 3 times.

Of those I dated about a dozen of them.

Of those I took 4 of them out at least three times.

Two of those were special. I felt an instant friendship with them, a closeness. But neither of them felt like they were meant for me as a mate (though one of them feels she would have and is, despite my best efforts, is quite hurt, though we never did more than hold hands for a minute or two). But, though I think they would be good friends, I don't think they are meant to be more.

Then there is M.

She took weeks to respond to my inquiries.

Finally we started emailing.

Our first date was at Giovanni's in Beaverton. I thought we had been in the restaurant for an hour, but... it was three!

I instantly felt great excitement about her.

She is very innocent. Never done drugs. No children. Hasn't much in the way of hobbies... except church. She is passionate about the Lord.

Every night we talk to each other for an hour or so. And every night we pray together for about twenty minutes. Last night I couldn't sleep. It was after 1:00 a.m. and I texted her. She was awake, so I called. We each lay in the dark and talked for over an hour.

I tried to get to that sort of sharing with Brenda for many years.

I prayed a lot. And there were three times the Lord sent me a confirmation.

1. I alluded to this this morning in church. I was praying a prayer of thanksgiving. I was thanking the Lord for all the things He has done for me. I was especially thanking Him for the times He showed up when things were rough. Willy's death. Understanding the challenges of our sons. Brenda's first affair. The church fire. Brenda's second affair. Our divorce. Then, quite clearly, I got a message, which could be put this way:

"I am also there in the good times. I am going to give you something good now."

2. M and I were on the couch, talking. Suddenly her appearance changed. Her hair had grey in it, her face, age lines, and I had the sudden certainty I would see that for real. I will live long enough to share years with this woman.

3. A real concern I have about a potential relationship with M is a desire she has: children. She isn't adamant about it, she had pretty much given up on that dream, even the dream of finding a partner, but still, it is there. And I needed to consider it.

I have had that dream. For so many years Brenda and I tried to have children. We bought this house while we were overjoyed about her pregnancy. That was a tubal pregnancy which could have killed her.

Still, there were several times I was reassured by the Lord I would have children. Once it was a verse sent by a missionary who had met my mother, telling her that she (Mom) had a son who wanted children and the Lord had a verse for me... a psalm of King David's about a man having many children (Psalm 127:5).

I prayed for so many years for children. I felt God told me I would have children. I kept bringing up the story of Abraham and reminding God He had promised Abraham children and gave him promised the children. I promised God that if He gave me a child I would do as Abraham did, and give my child to God.

I did.

After getting Willy I held a celebration of thanksgiving, inviting friends to a huge meal in celebration and where I promised to raise that child in any way God wanted.

And God took him.

I hurt.

But, God was there, through it all. I was hurt, angry, and grateful for God's continued presence. I angrily told God I was upset, that God had asked Abraham to give Him Isaac, but He took my son.

Then, He gave me two children... the first... Isaac. Isaac was two, and he had the name echoing the promise God gave Abraham.

Still, secretly, I wished for a child of my own flesh. It was an undercurrent to many of our marital problems.

Over the years I gave up on that dream. I have, in recent years, given up the idea I would have biological children and have begun dreaming other plans for my future.

Now, here is M wondering if I might be willing to fulfill that dream of hers.

I took it to God in prayer.

Reluctantly. Am I too old for children? I am 54.

And, I clearly heard:

"How old was Abraham when I fulfilled my promise to him?"

Abraham accepted he was too old (100).

So... there are the three confirmations.

Meanwhile, I find myself enthralled with her.

She isn't perfect. I see how she has little interest in the things I am so curious about, science and art, and all sorts of music and literature. But, she is interested in sharing my life, and loves learning of the things I like to think about. (But seriously, who would be so enraptured by such stuff? For example, I have lately been reading all I can about three subjects, dark matter, magnatars, and entangled particles. HA! Seriously, who else thinks about this stuff?)

But, she is strong in her faith. Perhaps a touch pentacostal, but maybe that isn't really a bad match for me either!

To me she is incredibly beautiful. I know she isn't a perfect beauty, but there are features she has which I have memorized. Her eyes... There is a curve to the inside of her upper eyelids I find enchanting. I also love the smooth curve of her neck. Her fingers... I have never seen such long nails... not the part which stick beyond the fingertips, but the part over the end of the fingers. Her fingers are slender and lovely, and the nails increase that impression.

I think about her all the time. I love her. I love her in a way I never loved Brenda. I trust her. I believe in her.

I believe she is someone God has made for me.

Does that answer all your questions?

:)

Ouch! Gribbet Snort Gaheez! Mmmmmmmm...

A little update...

Earlier this Summer, early July, I caught a large piece of furniture from tipping over. It took a few months to figure it out, but I tore a tendon that afternoon.

It was a typical stupid, male move. God created men and women to balance each other. On our own men tend to do dumb things. We don't ask for directions, we never read the instructions, and we are always ourselves putting ourselves in a position where we are faced with handling something too large for us.

Came out cool though.

Wednesday I had surgery on it. They made a few small incisions, shaved off a bone spur, sliced open the tendon and pulled it over two screws put in the bone.

Ouch!

So, I'm on pain killers. I'm not much for turning myself into a drooling, loopy, invalid, but it helps me to relax and therefore, heal.

So, I lie here in bed, wearing an oxycodone smile and muttering "Gribbet Snort Gaheez! Mmmmmmmm..."

It'll be better soon.

:)

Sharing

On a business trip I found myself l alone in Orlando, Florida for a few days. I had to kill some time (well, perhaps “spend” is a better term; I don’t want to be accused of chronomicide), so I went to Disneyworld.

It wasn’t much fun. I stood in lines, once in a while making small talk with the families and lovers around me. After a ride I’d bounce down the path, momentarily thrilled, which quickly evaporated.

I like movies, but they are a little shallow when I see them alone. I want to share the plot twists, talk about the actors’ skills, the directors’ choices.

Reading books, listening to music, going on hikes, camping, are joys deepened by sharing.

Not everyone is like that. I know people who do such things alone and enjoy them thoroughly. Not me. I prefer to savor experiences with someone.

I’ve a lot of freedom now. Single. Kids moved out. I need to go home to feed Bogie, my mutt from the pound, but my schedule is completely filled with my choices.

I’m not going to the movies. I’m not going out to eat. Such things feel empty without someone beside me.

Oh, I’m fine puttering around my house, doing little projects. I’m comfortable with myself, and Bogie seems to enjoy my explaining to him what we’re doing next. :) It’s just not a full experience.

I think God understands this. I know He does. First, He made me, and He “gets” me (glad someone does!). But, I think as omniscient and omnipotent God is, I think there is something He needs.

God is love.

Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. 1 John 4:8


God IS love.

Love is giving oneself to another.

Love requires something.

Love requires someone to love.

God requires someone to love.

This makes sense. Before He created Earth, before He created Angels, before He created time, He was.

Forever. There was eternity before there was time. And in that eternity there was only God. A triune being of pure love.

We have a little trouble with the idea of the trinity, a being three in one. Sometimes it helps to use the metaphor of being a two dimensional being observing the intersection of a three dimensional being who place three fingers of a single hand on his universe (was that unclear? I can go into greater detail if you like.).

Perhaps a better metaphor for myself is the parts of myself which view the universe differently. There is my mind, which likes to observe, measure, record, define, ruminate. There is my heart which, admittedly, is a little soft. It reacts more slowly than my mind, responds to the grief of others, responds to the hardships of others, responds to the joy of others. There is my spirit. (This is the slippery part.) My spirit senses things the other parts don’t. That part senses beauty and eternity and God.

Perhaps that is the closest I can come to imagining how a single being can be three.

Perhaps that is how I can understand a little how God is love, something that requires someone to love, when He was there before there was even an eternity to share with angels.

Yes God, God don't never change
He's God, always will be God
God in the middle of the ocean
God in the middle of the sea
---Blind Willie Johnson

Interesting that creating angels was only the first part of His desire to share His love with others beyond the community of a triune self. He went on to create a race of beings who are inherently self centered, capable, even disposed to, being selfish. Perhaps winning the love of the selfish is sweeter.

All this is beside my point (sorry for the rabbit trail). My point is, I long to share my life. (You know, I’m NOT sorry for the rabbit trail!) This isn’t about being codependent.

I just want to share.

Long Time, No See!

Hi folks.

Yeah, I've neglected this little online journal this past summer. In the main that is because things have been going well.

Started dating a gal. Real sweet one. For a little more than a year.

Loved her kids too. Every Monday all summer they came over and we worked on a tree fort.

But... that's over.

Hey, it ain't that bad. Ain't that good, but, I'm a big boy, and I'm OK.

We are working on transitioning to friends. It's a little awkward, but I think it will be fine. She's on vacation with her kids at Disneyland and I'm dog sitting for her. See? It's cool.

She did me a lot of good. Helped shake me out of habits I've had for years, echoes of my marriage. It feels like I'm on the road for being my own fella.

It also feels a little sad. A little like failure.

But, as I said, I think it's good.

She has been pretty independent for a long time. On her own. And I think she may be a little more independent than the kind of relationship I want.

If I remarry I want it to be with a full partner, a full sharing. Best friends. Shared lives to the grave.

So... That's that.

In other news...

Jeremiah has been reevaluated by the State of Oregon and deemed not to need the level of care he has been receiving, so he needs to move somewhere cheaper. Hopefully that will be worked out soon.

Isaac is in Job Corp at Tongue Point in Astoria, Oregon. Today Jeremiah and I went to see him (it's about a 2.5 hour drive). He has a friend who went with us. We went to Fort Stevens, and the Astoria Column. Had pizza. I took him shopping for a few things he needed.

Isaac & His Friend (Just Friends, honest)

Fort Stevens - Firing Reproduction of Civil War Cannon

Atop the Astoria Column
(We threw Balsa Wood Airplanes into the Forest!)

That was today...

Earlier this summer my buddies and I had another moon howlin'. It was a good one. I intended to write about it, but it never happened (I remodeled my bedroom, worked on my house...).

We fired a spud gun, and shot a target with a rifle, had a beer, cooked hunks of meet on sticks, talked serious, spiritual... We told stupid jokes. In fact, I said something that we all felt we could take away from the night. After laughing really hard at a really dumb joke, I said... "Keep in mind guys, sometimes STUPID IS IMPORTANT."

We might have to put that on T shirts.

I've lots of other stuff I could say right now... political, scientific, spiritual... but, I reckon that's enough for now.

Update

Life is good.

Sometimes strange.

Sometimes not what I would choose, but if it were left to me to script my life it would be so comfortable I would never grow.

Overall, it’s been good. That is why I haven’t posted much of late. When things are good there isn’t such a need to vomit up the toxins.

So, I’ll just post a little catch up stuff.

Jeremiah is going to move again. The State of Oregon reassessed his needs and determined that he does not need the level of support he has been getting, so they reduced the funding for him and that forces him to move to a home with less support staff.

I think this will be good because the other residents where he live have such great handicaps that he never connected with them. Never made friends with them. He made friends with the staff.

They will be letting me know about some other places Brenda and I can visit to choose his next home.

I spent six hours with Brenda on Tuesday.

Kid stuff again.

Isaac was accepted about two years ago for the Job Corps and finally moved in to Tongue Point Job Corps at Astoria, Oregon.

Brenda was going to drive, but I quietly insisted. “I’ll just pick you up on the way,” I texted.

It’s two and a half hours there and I dreaded the trip back alone with her.

Simple solution: invite Jeremiah along.

The place is a lot like a military base.


Check in at the gate. We were escorted to the dorm, followed a military style truck... They seemed a little surprised at how Jeremiah, Brenda, and I came in with him for check in. They went through Isaac’s bags. The only thing not permitted was the mouthwash (contains alcohol).

On the way back Jeremiah fell asleep in the seat beside me. Brenda, in the cramped back seat of the Mustang, started apologizing again. She said she had made a huge mistake, that she was sorry for all the hurt she caused me. She cried.

There was an awkward silence.

I didn’t want to open any doors, not even a crack.

“Thank you for saying that,” I finally said.

I always want to comfort those who hurt. This time though... this time if I showed any movement toward her or her feelings, well, she would take it the wrong way.

We stopped and ate.

The house is too quiet.

I’ve heard about empty nesters going through adjustments.

Part of me resents that this time in my life, the time I had fantasized about, when the kids are gone and it is just me and my spouse, has been thrown away by someone I trusted.

I’ve been in a bit of a funk all week. The house is too empty.

Last night I was texting a friend who asked how I was doing.

“I miss Isaac.”

Those simple words made me choke up. Before that moment I had made comments about how strange it was to have the house so quiet. I said things about the absence of helping someone with meals, or sharing the bathroom. But those simple words, “I miss Isaac” seemed to so clearly say what was really at the heart of my funk, I choked up a little.

I remembered the key moments in raising him. The clear spirit-led guidance that brought us together. And moments of his life with me. His first joke. Teaching him to ride a bike.

The moment I first saw him... I was standing in the living room of the orphanage. Looking out the sliding glass door, across the patio to the bedroom filled with cribs... and there he was, jumping up and down... “Daddy, daddy, daddy!!!” he was shouting.

This is a challenging time of the school year. The tasks, the lessons, the projects coming due, are all made more difficult by the many culminating fields trips of various courses and programs, and by the behavior of the adolescents wound up by the nearing Summer Break, the good weather, and the chemical imbalances nature sometimes inflicts on the brains of carbon-based life forms during Spring.

School ends in a little over a week.

I’m adjusting to an empty house and the changing schedule.

It’s all good.

How to Combat Froo Frooism

Things are going well, so I have less to write about... Or at least, it isn't dramatic anyway.

Which is a good thing. That melodrama I was living was tearing me apart.

Brenda doesn't appear near my home any more. she has learned that the closest I want her to come to my house is the park around the corner (to pick up Isaac) and that I'm not thrilled about that. She needed that clear a boundary.

I've been going out with a gal... a real belle inside and out.

She's got great kids. It's fun hanging with them.

Last weekend we went to a museum, The John McLoughlin house, and spent all afternoon there.

Once a month they have a gaggle of ladies in to do demonstrations on some froo froo Victorian skill. Saturday they were displaying needle books.

The ladies were all decked out in clothing and jewelry... all of it "period." Nothing outside of the 1840s & 50s. Even their language.

They were showing folks, a few ladies who had stumbled in from the 21st century, how to make needle books. Needles, dangerous tools of reconstruction, are easily lost, and these books with felt pages were a good place to store items that could take a year to replace if ordered from England.

I, and one of the boys I was with, thought the fish needle book was cool. Two pieces of "paste board" were carefully sewn into fabric, stitched together, and a ribbon is pulled out which holds the needles.

He and I sat down and bravely picked up the piece of naked "pasteboard" and cut a "fishy" fabric into pieces that might fit.

It was quite the project. We began at noon. The boy's brother and mom had to leave before 2:00, but we wanted to plug on.

They gave us all sorts of tips. Always thread the needle with the end of thread that was the lead off the spool. How a pattern of stitches that backed up over the previous stitch made for a strong and straight seam.

My favorite trick was the knot. I used to repair my clothing (and sleeping bag, and tent, and backpack) with fishing line when I was on my youthful adventures. And the way I put a knot in a thread I just wound the thread around a meaty forefinger and rolled the tangled hoop off with my thumb, pulling it into a snarl that could not possible pass through any fabric.

But not anymore. Now I delicately lay the end of the thread across the needle, wrap it three times against the glittering nearly invisible spike, and pull it smoothly down to a satisfyingly neat knot at the end of a silky thread.

I could see the victorian ladies were amused at the two of us transgressing the gender barrier.

The boy looked a little uncomfortable at one point.

"A real man does what he does and doesn't worry about what anyone else thinks," I told him.

He smiled.

"And besides, if this whole thing seems to get a little too froo frooish, just do something extra guy like."

"Arrrrr arrrrr arrrr arrr! Ooooh arrrr! Uh! UH! ARRRRRRRRRRRRR!"

We thought grunting a lot would suffice.

So, throughout the afternoon he and I would break into grunts for a moment or two, making clear to all at the table that we were guys.

The ladies seemed amused.

At 4:00 p.m. we had to stop. We hadn't quite finished. But he and I made a pact to continue our projects Sunday afternoon.

So, or rather, sew, we added an additional 45 minutes to our task and got the job done.

Here is mine:

My fish (tongue with needle inside)

Tongue Out
Notice the needle! Cool!

Easterly Thoughts

Christianity, the faith of God incarnated as a tortured sacrifice for the sins of humanity, seems a bizarre belief... eternal damnation and eternal paradise mixed in the hearts and lives of mortals, flawed people who sometimes wonder if they are buying salvation with their belief, with good deeds, perhaps with money in an offering plate.

It does seem odd... Why would a loving God, a being of glory and purity and joy and love, mix suffering and death and punishment in the mundane time and place of a criminal's death at a somewhat obscure backwater outpost of the Roman Empire?

Perhaps this is made strange because we are strange. ...Because we are looking at the whole thing from the wrong side of reality.

Consider this story of divine redemption from a different perspective.

Consider an existence not fueled by consuming food, of physical bodies functioning by a fight to make order out if disorder, driving our animated flesh from dissolving particles of plants and animals.

Consider an existence based on physics which are alien to us because they existed before the laws of physics which run this universe.

Consider what it may be like to live an existence that is not held to the standards of an outside perspective because there isn't any outside. There isn't (wasn't) sin, of doing wrong to others and having wrongs done to us, which is the result of individuals wanting what is not theirs, or doing what is not good for others.

Consider an existence which lies solely upon a perspective of what is, to us, an emotion. An "emotion" which is the foundation for existence itself. Consider the perspective of eternity, of a timeless forever which stretched beyond linear time, interrupted by the brief existence of our universe, which flows from the desire, the need to share the most intimate, ultimate part of ourselves: our "heart", our love.

From that perspective, the view of eternity longing to expand the embrace of Love, even to selfish beings of flesh... of, really, animals with minds, and souls which might sense a reality truer than one based on hydrogen, oxygen, and carbon.

From that perspective, Love became flesh to provide base beings, creatures who are more space, more nothing than matter (for there is far more to us that is empty than the solidity of the mass found within protons, neutrons, and electrons).

From that perspective Love became flesh as an example of pure selflessness so we might look past our own weaknesses, past our predilection to wanting what we want when we want it.

For Eternity to clothe itself (Himself) in base, vaporific matter, and to suffer the worst we can do, is the personification of Eternity in a fashion we might, just might, be able to understand.

Perhaps the events of Easter, of God made flesh, of that flesh suffering and dying, and God demonstrating He can overcome the simplistic nature of our universe's physical laws, isn't so strange from the perspective of Eternity.

Saturday Sushi

Dragon Roll

Change of Heart

I've a question for you.

Do you feel your heart, your emotional center, is changing?

I'm sure it is different than when you were a child. I'm sure that when school let out for the summer the warmth of the sun shone on you a lot like the way your heart shone its joy of being alive and free and... well, of being eight.

It changed along the way. There were hurts and joys, mysteries and discoveries, all shaped how you felt.

I feel my heart changing.

It isn't just the big changes that have happened... It seems an ongoing process. I feel my heart changing in a steady way that makes the swift changes just obstacles along the road of my life. The movement on the road has always continued.

Two great sorrows, the death of my child and the death of my marriage, broke my heart, but it mended. Major changes which reformed me the way a smith's hammer on hot metal.

But the other changes... the ordinary changes... Like what I am feeling now, I'm fascinated by them.

I feel my heart changing steadily. I find myself loving everyone, everything, a little more each day.

I have especially noticed a deeper emotional response to worship. When I worship my mind and heart fill with the scope of existence, the galaxies spread across 20 billion or more light years; I imagine the tiny strings at the deepest skein of the fabric of the universe, following the shuttles of physics in the loom of all things; I picture in my mind's eye the pulsing death throws of Beetlegeuse, swelling, deepening, preparing to die... I imagine the deaths of quasars and of may flies and my heart swells.

Even in talking or writing of such things my pulse quickens, my tongue grows thick, my eyes moisten. It is all so lovely.

And it seems to me, there is something about my heart, something about my life, that continues to change, continues to grow.

Is this unique to me? Do others experience such change? I note my father seems to gentle as he ages... Do we all?

So, dear reader, do you feel your heart, your emotional center, is changing?

A Little Writing Before the Others Awake...

I guess I haven't written much of late because things are going well.

Not perfect, but well.

I'm at a youth camp this weekend with my son Jeremiah. We are volunteering, doing whatever work they would have us do in preparation for their summer season.

I've been awake many times through the night. Perhaps it is the bunk bed, or the snoring of other men, or simply the bizarre dreams.

My dreams were filled with trying to find sleep in corners of a nearly vacant city with strange tall, and strange small birds stalking about in the dark, police cars shining their lights down alleys, of large mirrors placed too high to see into, and dusty vacant buildings echoing with the sounds of meals which no longer exist.

I went to sleep peaceful enough.

There was a worship service last night, my heart was at peace.

A good thing.

It seems odd to be 53.

It seems odd to be single and to have a heart moved by the thoughts of spinning galaxies and breezes blowing over grasses of meadows covering fragments of continents which no longer exist.

It seems odd to have a heart which loves and wants to love and yet only shares my life in pieces with my children, with my friends, with my God, and with a woman I am greatly attracted to.

It seems odd to consider this life, this second life after a marriage which spanned the best part of three decades. I wanted to give 60 or 70 years to a marriage. I wanted to give everything to a future so it would add up to a past I was pleased to have lived.

Now I can only offer 30 or so years...

I think of what I have to offer... emotional, spiritual, even to a small extent, financial assets. That last part is strange... I prefer the idea of sharing all I have with someone who hasn't anything to give back, so the sharing can be freer, without feeling I might receive more than I give. I want to be generous in every way.

This person I am seeing... I don't feel free to write of her, of us, as I did while my marriage was shredding. I think when I was writing back then I was hoping she would read what I was saying and understand, find her way back. I asked her many times to read it.

But now, things are good, and there isn't the need to pull at the sinews of the relationship to see what is attached.

Not that things are perfect. It seems clear I am someone who can be hard to read, that my flat affect can be taken as displeasure or disinterest when it can actually be covering amusement or even joy. So, I have a long ways to go to learn how to share who I am.

But this blog isn't the place to do that. Not this time.

As I write the dreams of the past night swirl around me, float through my thoughts, their emotional responses cling to my heart like tendrils of a dense fog slipping back toward a river flowing just out of sight... Shadows of buildings, sagging chain link fences, crumbling cinder block walls... animals in the dark... more fearsome in the dark than when I swept a flashlight over their startled features. Of the man who slithered along the side of the van, turning out to be a friendly early riser out for a walk. Constellations I have never seen floating in thin strips of sky far above alleys...

I'm nine years older. It doesn't seem much, at 53. But now and then conversations reveal experiences, memories of events personal and historic... no matter.

Last night, at worship, I felt the certainty I often feel during worship, of realities of my relationship with God which prevent me from calling it faith. How can it be faith when I am so certain? Moses didn't have faith in the reality of God, not after being in His presence. That bush burned in Moses' heart long after it no longer burned within his sight.

When I worship I feel a connection to everything, to the great expanse of time which comprises this universe, the great expanse of space which comprises this universe, the great expanse of smallness which stretches from me through my molecules, my atoms, sub atomic particles, quarks, and the strings vibrating in dimensions far more plentiful that I can experience...

When I worship my heart feels large.

When my heart feels large, I want to share it.

I don't mean I want to go out on some evangelical mission, convince anyone of the truths I feel within me.

I mean I want to share my heart. I want to share my life. I want to be close to someone. I want someone to know me, and share joy.

Toward the end of this week is Good Friday. I usually watch The Passion on Good Friday, remind myself of the mystery of the infinite made finite.

Jesus was a guy like me. He grew tired. I suppose there were times when He was all the things I know in being a man. The stories of His life mention weariness, thirst, even fear or dread. I suppose He passed gas. I suppose that He had to read the Torah to have the foundation for His message, He didn't walk around with omniscience. It seems strange to think He dealt with acne and blisters and splinters.

But, He was a guy like me.

I know He longed to share His heart...

Uh... Yeah.

I picked up a rescue dog from the humane society last night. I'm calling him "Bogie" (I love Bogart movies!)

It is so good to have Isaac home. What was to be two or three days in the hospital became four weeks and it was getting old for all concerned.

He lost a lot of weight, but we've started him on soft foods, so he is eating for the first time in a month. Very cool.

In my classroom I have a poster I made: "Questions are more important than answers. Answers are often wrong, questions never are."

I love learning new things. I will come across an odd fact follow that rabbit trail, and the trails which branch off it.

For example, the other day I read something odd about the octopus and looked the creature up. I read the wikipedia article three times, and also read about the hectocotylus, muscular hydrostats, and the Hawaiian creation myth.

Amazing creatures! I am still reeling over the bizarre qualities this animal possesses.

While the females guard their eggs until they hatch, the infant offspring (up to 200,000 of them) are left on their own to learn how to survive. They do this without, apparently, any instruction and no instinctual knowledge. They learn everything from scratch!

Experiments show they have short and long term memory, and have amazing problem solving capabilities.

After reproduction the males and females die, not of starvation (though they usually cease to eat) but because an organ behind their eyes releases a toxin. They self destruct! Elements of their reproduction were described by Aristotle but not believed until rediscovered in the 19th century.

Their limbs can detach and be autonomous for a while, even mimicing surrounding objects (in appearance and movement).

They have three hearts. One for each gill and one for the rest of their body.

The have multiple types of cells which can alter their color. They can make themselves look like almost anything around them. They have been observed to mimic a plant, will move about on only two legs to maintain the illusion.

The ink they emit not only hides them visually but deadens the sense of smell of other creatures.

They can move by crawling, walking, or using their jets. They have been observed crawling from one tide pool to another in the open air and have crawled onto the decks of fishing ships to get at crabs.


They have been observed to use tools.

They are so intelligent that the UK Animals (Scientific Procedures) Act 1986 has granted them honorary vertebrate status so they may only be experimented on with anesthesia.

Perhaps one of the most astonishing things I learned about them is that their oxygen transporting element is copper not iron. They have blue blood. (interesting they can eat iron based creatures and iron based creatures can eat them.) The copper is in proteins spread through their blood plasma not in something akin to red blood cells as ours are.

What an amazing animal!

If such a creature were sentient, and had a soul, what sort of connection might it have with the Creator? God would seem more alien to them than to us because they do not have the concept of community, of family, that we do. They might relate to the idea of a trinity through the concept of autonomous limbs connected into a single being, but the idea of love and sharing emotional bonds would probably be impossible.

How would such a sentient being understand truth? Truth would be measured in such things as a sense of touch that includes taste, a sense of vision that includes polarized light, but the idea that everything is illusion, since their own bodies routinely mimic reality easily, would make the idea of falsehood as normal as empirical truth.

Would the concept of eternal life be beyond their comprehension since their bodies self destruct at a given time? Old age is impossible for them. They would see life as fleeting and of little value since so few of their offspring endure (which they don't even understand since they have many but never live long enough to witness them). No mates, no children, just solitary lives of mimicry and illusion... the tang of copper at their touch rather than the savor of iron in their mouths.

About this point, dear reader, you are probably shaking your head. Not at the strange mind a sentient octopus might have, but at the strange mind this writer has. :)

That's OK.

That is the real point of this post. My mind. I'm amused I ponder such things. Makes me smile that I wander into such musings. What really gives me a the thrill is when I think about the strangeness of the universe and the possibilities beyond the fields we (I) know.

What a wonderful gift the Lord has given me!

! ! ! ! ! !

: )

Hurray!

Just got a call from Isaac. He put his doctor on the phone who told me Isaac can come home today!

!

He was checked in on January 20th, a Wednesday. That's FOUR weeks!

Hurray!

A Little Good News :)

X rays are done. Good news.



The mouse cursor is at the spot where there was a constriction.

This pic is 13 seconds after swallowing & the fluid is already entering the intestine.

He can have clear liquids now.

About Stuff...

13.73 billion years ago the universe packed neatly into a space smaller than an atom.

13.73 billion years ago all the dimensions of the universe were packed neatly into a single unified dimension, having no height, no width, no depth, not even a moment to exist in for time had yet to begin.

It would take less than an instant (defined as an infinitely short amount of time) for it to expand... if one could be floating there, outside of the universe a short distance away (which is patently absurd since there was no space outside of the infinitely small space, but say there was...) one would never see the universe coming because it moved faster than light (the universal speed limit had not passed quantum physics legislation yet).

I'm waiting for Isaac to get out from video x ray (they are having him drink a contrast fluid, and then will video tape how it flows [or fails to] through him).

So... I'm just sitting here thinking about stuff...

Stars in our Neighborhood

Our Galaxy

Local Galaxies in our Supercluster

The filaments in our corner of the universe (of which our supercluster makes up a spot)

The inventor of the Frisbee died this past week...


The DVD of The African Queen will come out next month!

Tapioca is made from casava roots

Progress!

At this time yesterday I thought Isaac was having a procedure to place a stent into his intestines.

I didn't like the idea.

Sometimes the stomach resists these stents and push them further into the intestine.

While I was teaching my last class yesterday, getting ready to hurry to Portland, Isaac, Brenda, and the surgeon decided to simply remove the NG tube going into his stomach and see what happened.

Would the stomach just fill with gas and fluids, pulling on the previous incisions? Or would it fill up partially, and start moving materials into his intestine?

I was there last night. The stomach grew uncomfortable for him, grew a little distended. We refrained from pain meds, opting for strong anti-inflammatory medicine instead.

The pain subsided.

He had a small bowl movement late last night, and a larger one this morning.

!

!!!!!

I am not there this morning, I'm working today (on a lunch break right now), so I don't know exactly what they are deciding, but I suspect they will start having him drink fluids, perhaps eat some Jello (registered trademark).

This is VERY good news.

I am cautiously hopeful I can bring him home soon.

Lastly, on the ex wife front... It seems she is getting the message. I told her details about my income, about anything to do with the hospital bills and Isaac and all that, she would only get what I am convinced is absolutely necessary. No more than that.

I woke this morning at 3:30, went for a nice walk in nature. It was a peaceful hour.

?Huh?

Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't.
--Mark Twain

I got to the hospital as quickly as possible. School ended, and the student I had scheduled to tutor after school was covered by someone else.

School ends at 2:30. We are expected to stick around until at least 3:30 (though it isn't uncommon to be here after 5:00, and I often arrive at 6:00), I hustled off. I was told Isaac was going under for a "Procedure" (? "operation"?) to insert a stent in his intestine.

Sheesh. I really don't want to see that happen.

But I am glad they are taking this last chance to see if they can let the stomach have one more chance.

They removed the NG tube (a nasal tube that pumps fluids out of the stomach). They are avoiding the pain meds (which slow his digestive track) and giving him an anti-inflammatory. We are crossing our fingers that this will work.

So... I feel confused. I thought the stent was a sure thing. Glad to hear that it is only a possibility. A stent is sometimes rejected by the stomach and pushed further into the intestines. That would be more serious.

Perhaps all the prayers are moving the Lord's hand. Perhaps his intestines will take this last chance to wake up and do their job.

Either way, I'm hopeful. I hope the doctor returns soon and feels we can put off this procedure.

I just want my son to get better... come home.

As for Brenda... she hasn't been here this afternoon. I'm grateful for that.

I need to have a blunt conversation with her. I dislike confrontation. That has been reinforced to a pavlovian level with her. But, I see she is continually testing the boundaries. I tell her where they are, and she pushes it.

I teach middle school. Kids between 11 and 14. They ALWAYS test the boundaries. If they are to stay in the cafeteria before the school day begins, then they will see if it is OK to stand in the doorway. Once the door fills the will see if it is OK to stand outside the door and talk to the kids in the door. If no one says anything they will see if it is OK to go look at the bulletin boards in the hallway. If no one says anything, they will see if it is OK if they just run to their locker real quick to put something away...

I will have to be as clear with Brenda as I am with my students.

DANG IT!!!!

The tests on Isaac's intestines did not go well.

Tomorrow at 4:30 they are putting a stint into his intestines at the point they enter stomach.

After three weeks in the hospital, another operation.

I will rush to the hospital when work ends today... I'm supposed to be here until 3:30, but the kids leave at 3:30. I should be there before they put him under for this next operation.

All of this is creating some large hospital bills. It is probably over a $100,000 now. Isaac is on my insurance, but if they see him as a 19 year old, an adult, and look at his income and determine what he can afford. This means doing his 2009 taxes, calling the hospitals, negotiating what the items values are for the insurance companies (what they will pay), and what they can charge us based on Isaac's ability to pay.

This also includes looking at my income, my tax burden, and making the point that while I claim his as a dependent because I support more than 50% of his living expenses, he is still an adult (moving toward independence) and these bills should be treated separate than if they were incurred by me directly.

The sticky part here is Brenda. She wants to do this. Frankly, she has the time, there are needs to show that she is not a part of his direct resources (her tax filing) and there is an immediacy. That's the reasons to let her do this.

The reasons not to let her is that this can be used as an opportunity for her to pry into my business. It isn't that I have anything to hide. (In fact all of this will show that I have shouldered much more than my fair share.) This would mean a careful vigilance on what she knows, what she has access to, and what she might do to wedge a small opening into my life into one where she has more control.

Here is an example... Last night I got a voice message from her. She was warning me that Isaac had gotten a phone call that was a scam for money.

"So what?," I thought.

She then told me that had called the phone company for Isaac's telephone to tell them not to charge him for the minutes this call took. Hmmmm... OK. A little awkward since this is really my account and I have Isaac on my family plan.

"I also told them to block that call from his phone so they don't call him again."

--Sigh.-- OK. Boy she likes to get involved in the details!

"Since he is on your account I told them to block the call from your phone as well so you aren't bothered by this scam."

"WHAT?!!!!"

Now I need to speak to her about how inappropriate it is for her to adjust ANYTHING on ANY account I might have with ANY business at ANY time.

--Sigh.--

So... Isaac has had another setback. He will be knocked out this afternoon and a large stint placed in his intestine.

Meanwhile, Brenda will be looking for the calm reassurance I have given her for nearly three decades and I will withhold it.

Meanwhile, Brenda will try to help with the business end of negotiating a good deal for Isaac, but needing information about my and Isaac's income, and wanting to "help" me with my taxes. Criminy! Another emotional, relational mine field.

Meanwhile, I need rest (I couldn't sleep last night, but knowing I will be up late tonight I took a pill that I knew would make it hard to get going today so I would).

Meanwhile, I need spiritual renewal. I need some walks in the early morning hours at Mollala River State Park, being in tune with the world as the nocturnal creatures retire and the diurnal ones awake, while I use the world to be a natural cathedral to separate the confusion of human life with the peace of eternity.

--Sigh.--

Whew!

Isaac is back in his hospital room.

There is a new, larger, NG tube draining his stomach through his nose and he is very out of it. The tube is painful and he abhors it. At least he was unconscious (for an endoscopy) when they put it in.

The doctor who performed the endoscopy did a good job explaining it (though B told me later that last night she felt the doctor's bedside manner wasn't all it should be and made her feelings clear, perhaps a little excessively. B said that was probably why she was being through and careful in talking with us).

At any rate... good news!

The reason Isaac's stomach wasn't emptying into his intestines is due to the incision from the removal of the tumor. Actually, because of the two operations there. The first time when the staple went in it pinched the stomach a little, closing the opening a bit. When the staple popped out and was replaced with sutures, it was pinched even more. Then, as is natural, it swelled up from the trauma, which nearly closed it all together.

She gave me pictures of it all so I can explain it to Isaac when he is aware enough. (Note, if such pictures make you feel squeemish, be careful because I intend to put them at the bottom of this post.)

The bottom line is that the sutures look good. It is straight, clean, pink. It is swollen, but the swelling should go down in the next couple of days.

During the endoscopy they inserted a balloon and stretched the opening to the intestines a bit to make it easier to begin functioning again.

Meanwhile they will continue to drain his stomach through the tube, leaving it fairly empty. They will turn it off now and then, wait a little while, and then see if there is a build up of fluids or if the liquids are draining away into his intestines as they should.

They expect him to be able to go home in three or four days.

On the off chance that the stomach does not adapt and start channeling fluids where it should, there are two options, but they are unlikely. One is to insert a tube into that opening, but that isn't desirable. Sometimes those tubes are pushed on into the intestine by the stomach and need to be surgically removed later. The other option is to insert a drain through his belly that can be manually drained. Neither of those are good choices, and I trust they will not be necessary.

Brenda has left and probably won't be back until Sunday evening at the earliest.

I need to catch up on my rest, but I think that will be easier now.

It wasn't just a matter of sleeping in chairs or the back of my car, but the stress of wondering what was happening with my son which has worn on me.

I am looking forward to getting him home and getting things back to normal. Well, as normal as things seem to get for me!

OK... Now for the pics. I include them here because I want to keep this online journal complete, though it is a strange and perhaps queezy sight...

To me it is exciting... it is one thing to hear the doctors describe what is going on, and another to see with my own eyes that things are going well.

...

...

...

...

...

The picture in the upper left shows the suture (horizontal line on the left). You can see it is a little swollen, but nice and pink, and well sealed. The picture on the lower right is the line leading to the balloon (which is the yellow thing in the pic on the lower left).



The picture in the upper left here is what the entrance to the intestine after it was stretched open by the balloon. That is a close up of it in the pic on the upper right.

Hi there

A friend was just here... I asked him what day it is.

That is how I am feeling...

I spoke with my boss this morning and he asked how many days had I been gone. A few hours later I realized I had completely forgotten three of the days I had worked.

It is all blurring together.

This morning, I think it was this morning, I wrote a little piece for this blog which garnered a flood of emails. Some supportive, some mixed, some chiding (yet loving).

I don't know if what I'm writing now will clarify my feelings, but I'm going to try.

For those who do not know, Isaac is 19 and he once told me that he knew I had to divorce his mom. He said it was the best thing for all of us.

I must have written something (I'm too tired to go back and reread it now) which indicated I was treating her in some way that approaches harshness.

I'm not. Throughout this I have kept he informed of every decision, every change, every update, and she has done the same for me.

I have treated her respectfully.

I could recount the injuries I've received from her, but there isn't any reason to do so. I wouldn't tell her unless severely pressed to do so (and I can't imagine such circumstances.

But, it is clear that she has continued to play some sort of strange game which includes hinting that we should get back together. NOT going to happen. Since I have become resolute in maintaining clear boundaries it has made things much simpler with her. She is becoming polite (if not less eager to take control).

This is what is best for Isaac, best for me, and I believe, best for her.

Every opportunity I gave her to be a larger part of things, especially anything to do with my home she used as an opening to insert a wedge and widen her influence.

Honestly, she wasn't interested in me until it began to look like I was moving on.

I care about her. She just didn't feel the same way, and I'm OK with that now. And I can care about her without pretending to be more buddy like than I feel. And not being fully honest with who I am and to let my son see how one can love someone without embracing their misdeeds. She is a past chapter of this life.

I swore to love and protect her all my life and I really tried to do that, far past the point where it was clear she would not permit it.

I think there will always be a frustration in my heart that I was not able to spend my life with a single woman. It is only partly her fault. Beyond the mistakes I made, I also see I made the choice to marry her. I chose poorly.

_______________

OK... BIG time out! Just got information about Isaac. This post is a little defensive, I know, but I felt the need to spit it out and this is the place for it...

Bottom line... I know, in my heart (and I really do have a gentle heart), that the interactions with Brenda are what they need to be. Nuff said.

For those of you who had the courage to say something to make certain I was doing what was right, thank you. It isn't easy to tell someone something you know they probably don't care to hear and I take the comments in the spirit of love in which I know they were given.

Additionally, I know I am exhausted and will be as cheerful as ever very soon.

Now.. I have much news about Isaac's condition and I want to toss this missive onto the blog pile and let it get buried under more interesting news.

Another Day...

Back in Isaac's room. He seems to be feeling better this morning. He's not so scared.

The first surgery was January 20th. The cut the muscles at the base of his stomach and while there, removed a pancreatic tumor in his stomach.

On Friday the 22nd the staple at the tumor site had popped and they took him back in for another surgery.

The sent him home a week later, which lasted just until Saturday when his stomach kept filling up and he threw up everything I gave him.

So... Back to the hospital.

I reread the last post. It wasn't the easiest night last night.

Quite a scare.

I know the post sounds like I am being mean to Brenda. I'm not. I'm polite. I listen. I simply ignore her manipulations. That is what they are, manipulations.

She seems to have stopped trying to get back together with me, I'm not buying it anymore. I don't even need to remind myself that she has had two affairs, and that through the last one she left six times to go back to her boyfriend, and each time, I let her return.

That is done. I don't like to see her hurting, I am free with hugs, but no longer with her. She uses them as a wedge to pry things open for her purposes.

She was happier when I was miserable. Now that I am moving on, she wishes to drag me back. I'll remain polite, and focus on caring for my son.

So, Isaac is watching Spongebob, Brenda is out having a cigarette, and I am trying to wake up. (The back seat of that Ford Mustang isn't the best bed.)

I sure hope the doc shows soon so I can ask some questions about his prognosis.

Concerned

I rushed back to the hospital within the past hour.

Isaac has had a seizure.

He's scared.

I would rather not be sharing this event with Brenda.

_____

She has stepped away to give he and me a little privacy.

I was a little surprised. It seemed that every time I started to talk to him or the nurse she inserted herself into the conversation. Perhaps my irritation flickered actoss my face causing her to leave.

She has offered to let me sleep here tonight. I refused. I';ll go sleep on a couch in the lobby or in that tiny seat in that silly little car I bought.

When she called to tell me about the seizure I heard the fear in her voice. I sensed that she wanted me to rush not just to him, but to her, to calm her, to be supportive. It's the role I played for nearly three decades.

She tends to be controlling, and excitable. I tend to be emotional, but in a soft way, and when others are hurting, put myself aside and try to help.

It pisses me off that she wants that of me now.

A year ago I would have swept her into my arms, comfort her.

Now when I think of her I s see a person who is so mixed up she does not even know the truth of her own heart, her own mind.

She lies to herself, and believes them. That makes it much easier to justify one's behavior when one can conjure up "reasons" and convince oneself they are the whole truth.

I have similar failings. Everyone does. Being an individual usually consists of being a little self-focused, a little biased in seeing that one is in the right and the rest of the world is screwed up.

I have tried hard to be honest with myself.

I don't always succeed, but I can see that every time I think someone has done me wrong it is usually a defense mechanism.

I suppose that is partly the case with tonight.

Her body language says she wants a hug, wants reassurance; I find it repugnant.

When she speaks I feel like snapping at her. To tell her to butt out. To tell her to let me ask my questions without a whisper from her.

Perhaps I am tired. I usually don't express this sort of negative feelings.

_____

She just stepped in for her purse. I think she needs cigarettes. I told her I would be leaving soon as Isaac has nearly fallen asleep...

Where was I? Oh yes... annoyed, and attempting to discern my own truth, weaknesses and strengths...

I've avoided talking these last few months about my heart... for there is someone I've met I care a great deal for. I love.

I know, I love easily.

I think about missteps I take in all the walks of my life. I regret them. I am trying to learn from them.

I think I'll go off to sleep in the car...

Three Little Birds

"Don't worry about a thing,

'Cause every little thing gonna be all right.
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"

Rise up this mornin',
Smiled with the risin' sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin', ("This is my message to you-ou-ou:")

Singin': "Don't worry 'bout a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."
Singin': "Don't worry (don't worry) 'bout a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"

Rise up this mornin',
Smiled with the risin' sun,
Three little birds
Pitch by my doorstep
Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin', "This is my message to you-ou-ou:"

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, worry about a thing, oh!
Every little thing gonna be all right. Don't worry!"
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing" - I won't worry!
"'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."

Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right" - I won't worry!
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."
Singin': "Don't worry about a thing, oh no!
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!

Isaac asked to have this song playing while they reinserted the tube into his stomach through his nasal passage.

He asked for Chris Botti last time, but he has been listening to that CD straight for 36 hours.

"What do you want, Buddy? Sade?"

"No."

"Maybe some soft classical? Perhaps Bach?"

"I don't care. No wait... maybe that Bob Marley song about 'Everything is going to be alright.'"

"Three Little Birds? Sure!"
He hates the procedure.

It is painful.

The first attempt failed...

While screwing up the courage to try again we decided that he could imagine he was swallowing a whole french fry. It's the swallowing that is required to guide the tube.

Brenda sat on one side of him, I sat on the other. I gripped his hand with my left, and held his shoulder with my right.

I then held the tube while the doctor removed the guide wire.

So... the tube is in, and already nearly a liter of fluids have drained from his stomach. The pain is subsiding. The pressure on the sutures has been relieved.


Singin': "Don't worry 'bout a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."
Singin': "Don't worry (don't worry) 'bout a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"

He loves that song.

Anyway... the tube is in. The stomach is draining. Now... if only the intestine will unkink and start letting the gases and fluid drain from the stomach.

More time in this hospital. They even had the balloons still from a few days ago... This almost looks like the same room.

Brenda is going to spend the night. I will be back in the morning to relieve her.

At least he is going to get the fluids he needs, and proper pain meds...

Update: February 2, 2010, 9:30 p.m.

OK...

Does not apear to be kidney related... not a stone or other problem...

It's from the surgery.

It seems the intestine close to the stomach has pinched off and the stomach is filling up with juices and gases and causing increasing pressure and pain and since it cannot drain, vomiting.

We have attempted once to get a tube into the stomach through the nose... but... no good.

Isaac has taken a ten minute break and we are about to try again.

He needs to be a participant in this painful procedure... He needs to swallow at the right moment to guide the tube into the esophagus and not the lung.

The tears streamed down his face as the tube scraped his nasal passages and he tried hard to swallow.

He is saying he is willing to try again. Doc is here...

Here we go...

Update February, 2, 2010

Isaac has been throwing up the last 2 or 3 days. I haven't been able to keep his meds in him.

Took him to the surgeon's office in Portland. His white blood cell count is up, indicating a possible abcebs... and infection, probably in his stomach.

They are admitting him back into the same hospital, Providence, Portland.

He is dehydrated so back in go the IVs and get some fluids in his body. Then on the a CAT scan to see if we can spot the absess and make a plan.

Looking like a 3rd surgery.

New Journey

It is going to slow down soon...

I'm at the hospital and my son is doing much better. He began to eat a little today, using the new and improved esophagus and testing the repaired stomach.

Seems to be working.

Lots of milestones for him today. Eating, a drainage tube removed, the intravenous nutrition cut off. He is walking better. Bodily functions, the three common states of matter, gas, liquid, and solids, all being handled in the most mortal of ways.

Isaac has gone through a lot of changes this past week. He's known more pain. He has had time to reflect (see earlier post where I captured some of those thoughts) and seems more aware of everything around him... people, events. More empathetic.

I think that is normal. I know the traumas of my life led me to feel more deeply...

They just removed the last IV tube! The ports are still there, and he still has one more drainage bag in his abdomen... I've been writing this post one paragraph at a time... A little writing, then help him walk, a little more writing, then help him sit up, a little more writing, and then guide him to the bathroom, a little more writing, and then elevate his feet...

Anyway, back to this post...

This hospital stay has been a bit of a journey in many ways for him.

He has become more self aware too. And self assured.

When the fellow, Steve, the guy best at inserting tubes, was here to attempt the drain tube through his nose a few days ago, he asked: "Shall I call you 'Isaac', or 'Mr. Greenleaf'?"

"Call me Mr. Greenleaf."

Huh!

He learned to say "no" this week. He has always been so compliant. I got a text message from Brenda yesterday saying his constipation was preventing them from giving him the Jello, and he was refusing the suppository that would help.

I walked him through the reasoning for such strange medicine and he took another brave move into a new world of remedies.

I am so tired... Been coming and going... Canby to Portland, Portland to Canby. Scooting along in that Ford Mustang I bought on New Year's Eve... None of my sleep for the last week was uninterupted. It will be better soon.

He is supposed to go home tomorrow. Hope it happens. There have been many changes to such predictions in the past.I suppose this hospital stay of his has been a journey of my own.

It began with me doing most of the watching over him. Brenda flew in on her... well... I really should change her ringtone to something kinder... the witch theme from the Wizard of Oz is a little sarcastic (but it does make me smile)... anyway, she flew in and took over. Or tried to. I stopped her and then let her, on my terms.

She asked to talk in the hospital cafeteria. Two elevator rides, six hallways, in subdued non-conversation. She asked if she could help care for Isaac after he was discharged.

"It is going to be difficult caring for him and I would like to help."

"That isn't going to happen," I said.

She became indignant.

"Nope. The closest you can come to my home is the end of the driveway, and I would prefer you didn't do that."

"Well!"

"Sorry, that is how it will be. I need my own place. Having you there, going through my fridge, fixing meals, sweeping floors. It's not what divorced people do."

"They do if they are mature."

"Name one."

She struggled to answer in silence. She grabbed her coat, got up, started to leave.

I didn't even glance at her.

"You can go if you like," I said, looking at my grapefruit juice, "but I was going to offer a way for you to be a part of this."

She returned to her seat. It sorted of spoiled the dramatic effect she was going for.

"You want to be a part of Isaac's recovery... fine. It just isn't going to be in my home. You can have the hospital. You can take the time off work if you want, you can spend all the time you want here. You can talk to the doctors, make sure things go smooth. But, when he is discharged it is all mine. And... you need to keep me informed of all developments, and you have to give me privacy with him when I come to visit."

She nodded agreement.

I was glad I paid for her coffee. Such small moves in the weird chess game we play count.

Since that move in the cafeteria, the one of setting boundaries, where my white bishop slid through her pawns and removed her queen, changed the game forever.

She wavered a bit during the week, seeking to understand the new point of equilibrium between us. Sometimes she sulked, sometimes she was chatty and overly clear in her suggestions. My face displayed no emotion, and when she went too far in her chattiness or her suggestions, I let my gaze slip away as if I wasn't listening anymore.

She has begun to treat me with the respect I know I deserve.

It's a new journey.

How Am I?

Email to me: "...Please write a short note on your CS blog and tell all of us how YOU are doing, and how Isaac is doing..."

Oh yeah. Me.

It is easy writing about Isaac. Parents focus on their children.

OK, this is a blog about my life... ruminations on faith, love, life, science, just about any idea and experience which rolls through my noggin. So, I'll share about me.

But first, Isaac update (well... that is what is first on my mind).

The surgery last Wednesday went well. The muscle at the base of the esophagus was cut so food would fall into his stomach (the nerves of the esophagus have died by a fluke of the machinations of his body's autoimmune system). There was also an infection would have to be addressed once his ability to swallow returned. Additionally... a tumor in the stomach. The operation removed the tumor as well as the muscle at the stomach.

On Friday the staple at the site of the tumor popped off and the contents (mostly juice) flowed into his abdomen, bringing much pain. That night, after a CT scan identified the problem, he had an urgent second operation. That set him back. I think yesterday he had 8 tubes going into or out of his body.

Saturday they said he would be in three or four more days. They said it with little certainty. I told Brenda (my somewhat intense ex) she can care for Isaac in the hospital, but when he is released to come home, it is my home, my business. (She did not take it well.)

Now... How am I doing?

Emotionally, physically, mentally, and I suppose to some extent, spiritually, exhausted.

I was continually surprised how quickly time passed in the hospital. It seems I spend time doing nothing, waiting for information, waiting on Isaac, waiting for nurses or doctors or tests. Yet time flies by. I think it is though there aren't specific tasks to be done there was always something immediately to be done, just little. Helping him sit up, getting a nurse for more morphine, explaining what I learned about his progress, texting folks who have questions. The little stuff adds up and I am actually much busier than it would seem.

Spending nights in that chair is not truly restful. Every time a nurse comes in I get up and check on what is happening, what his latest condition is. Nights comprise of 20 minute segments of sleep.

I try to eat properly, go get a real meal somewhere, but it is inconvenient. Most of my food is prepackaged sandwiches and large amounts of coffee. I know it isn't healthy and contributes to an overall sense of not being physically at ease.

My spiritual life is a little dry. The concern has all been about Isaac... his body, his attitude, his emotions, his spirit, his care. My prayers have been focused on him and I guess I haven't given much thought about me. Still, worship on Sunday was full, meaningful, but that is outward, or rather, upward.

I have not gone for many predawn walks in the woods of late. I haven't had much time for the inflowing of the spiritual forces into my heart and spirit. I guess I'm feeling a little spiritually dry.

Aside from the focus on Isaac I have been mentally distracted concerning my classes. To be absent from my students this much makes it difficult to ensure they make the proper amount of progress in their own studies. My mind goes to those classes frequently.

My emotional growth regarding my divorce is actually doing very well. Brenda has been helpful and distracting, kind and manipulative, and a complication in dealing with Isaac's care, but in terms of boundaries and putting our post marriage relationship into a proper framework, a healthy thing.

She has tried pushing the boundaries of course, and there were subtle and not so subtle aspects to dealing with how we relate to each other. I am finding it ever easier to be firm. She wanted to come help Isaac in my home after his release. It was easy to be clear that it simply is NOT going to happen. I have given her the opportunity to be involved as much as she likes at the hospital, and I have made it clear it ends there.

I care for her as I care for anyone who is in a bad spot, I simply do not feel I have to act on any of it. If she needs to move out from her boyfriend, or take time from work, or deal with anything, that is all her business. Not at all mine. I'd rather not discuss it.

When she pushes I smile and tell her that if she wants to move the conversation beyond the boundaries I have set, I will walk away.

She flusters and blusters but acquiesces.

So... How am I doing? I'm tired, and frayed along the edges, but doing quite well overall. I am proud of my son, a little miffed at some students, not getting all the rest and nutrition I should, but, am doing fine.

Thanks for asking!

:)