Borimir's Lost scene

Work is going by at an unbearbly slow pace. It isn't the work itself that is slow, but rather the time that I am killing while I work. I am seriously considering starting a side project to keep myself sane. I could retouch some old photos to use as samples and then start working the antique show circuit, looking for people with old photos that need fixing & retouching. I think that would be more up my alley than what I am doing now. I just got a new project today- We are doing a needs analysis for an inventory/ticketing system for a cigar company. Sounds exciting right? Then why am I not? Very little would please me more than to work on my own, restoring history pixel by pixel. It has become very obvious to me that the key to preventing burnout is to do something that you could never get tired of doing. It's not too late to act upon that epiphany.

On the other hand I could busy myself making things like this:
(NOTE: I did not make this)

Downsizing

Not a lot to write about today because the trivial things are too trivial and the deep things are too deep. Why is it that we can be lulled by notions like, "Yes, he has leukemia but it's only a mild form." That's about as comforting as knowing that people will be shooting at you, but they will only be using .22's. Sooner or later the stuff is going to kill you.

Doctors take their time scheduling you or calling you back, the unspoken rule being that a crisis on our part does not constitute a crisis on their part. I know how it is. Anyone who works with people knows that you need a certain degree of insulation in order not to be consumed by other people's problems. I just wish that the doctors and the people who run nursing homes weren't so damned bulletproof.

It's still hard for me to imagine the day when I need to hang it all up. When that time comes I just hope I still have the good sense to go out like an Eskimo and just wander off on to the ice pack.

Golden Years?

Talk between the siblings continues of what to do with Mom and Dad. Dad really cannot be alone right now and those of us who can be with him cannot meet the challenge on a long-term basis. Mom has problems too big for any of us to handle. My sisters are jumping through all the hoops and making all the calls to help them. It's looking very unlikely that they will keep the house much longer.

It cannot be an easy thing to work your whole life, to save for your retirement and collect so many possessions just to find out that however much you saved wasn't nearly enough and oh by the way, you have to get rid of all your stuff because there's no room for it where you're going.

Dan Nygaard was the only one of my grandparents fortunate enough to avoid a nursing home. I wonder what my parents thought, what kind of anguish they felt when they watched their parents be slowly stripped of their pride, their independence and all of their worldly possessions. Were their eyes opened to what lay ahead for them? Do they deep down in their hearts know the dilemma that us kids are facing?

I suppose that they never thought old age would be like this. That money that they were saving was not put into the bank with hospital bills in mind but rather to enjoy on whatever they wanted.

We were born into this world naked and penniless, and we depart from it the same. The state certainly sees to that.

Warming Trend

I spent Saturday with Dad, passing some time together written off as visiting when both of us knew well enough why I was really there- I was a watchdog to make sure that he took his medications, help with insulin injections and make sure that he didn't take any tumbles. Oh yes, and other duties as assigned, which essentially means reaching those places that he couldn't. I think that the rigors of fatherhood helped me in terms of dealing with this new and developing role; Dad on the other hand is not comfortable with it. It's not an easy thing to wipe your own ass for almost 80 years and then have to let someone else do it.

The good news is that our prayers (and the prednesone) seem to be working. His feet were still shuffling when he walked but he was able to get himself up unassisted twice while I was there.
We passed the time looking at my grandmother's old scrap books. That woman was good about getting her pictures into pages and even better about labeling them so that 80 years later I would know who was who. One of the nice things was that I was able to ask Dad who some of the cousins are and what some of the stories behind the photos were. Dad's idea of being helpful is to get your hands onto some tools and build or fix something. But if sharing information about our family was something that he could do for me, he was glad to do it.

Thus the day went by, learning of cousins not so much distant by blood but rather distant by space and indifference. A generation or two ago the term "Family" extended out to the uncles, aunts and cousins. We would have spent holidays and family reunions together and everyone would know each other. But today people are traveling in tighter and tighter orbits, spinning through our lives too rapidly to really get close to anyone besides our parents, siblings, spouses and children.

I don't know that it's a trend that can be reversed without radical changes to our lifestyles and mindsets. I don't know if modern man wants to change. It's too fun earning money, staying inside our houses and watching the world go by through the internet and our home theater systems.

I wonder if this discourse will effect any permanent change upon me, if a brief flicker of recognition is enough to begin a permanent change in me- To begin opening up more to my family, to begin engraining into my son a sense of his heritage and where he came from and perhaps most importantly, to SLOW DOWN and appreciate all that I already have. On a cold Saturday in January 2005 maybe I have started a warming trend within myself that will melt away some of the discontent and restlessness from my life.

Cold Below Zero

The high today is supposed to be something like 3 below. It's the kind of cold that freezes the boogers right in your nose and splits the ends of your fingers like 300 year old bamboo shoots. It's great news if you are an ice fisherman. It's lousy news if you have a baby that needs to be loaded and unloaded from a car. I wrapped him up tight in his blanket this morning, something which he usually won't stand for. He wailed like a shanghaied sailor all the way from the car to Mama Olojan's doorstep.

Mom is in the nursing home, recovering from the leg that she broke shortly before Christmas. She is healing very well and in spite of everything is in remarkably good spirits.

Dad on the other hand is another story. He has been hit hard with rheumatoid arthritis and is having a tough go of it. I will be spending the day with him tomorrow.

That's it for now, maybe more later.