Gordon Keith had a funny line about Robert Jeffress, “You’ll never hear him say he can’t make a Fox News appearance because he’s busy working on his sermon.”
While watching the Darlie Routier special I was reminded of things which kept me from embracing KXAS/NBC5. Jane and Mike were always seemed full of themselves, as well as Scott Murray. I don’t know if Routier murdered her kids, but their coverage of her at her sons’ grave left a sour taste in my mouth. And, they had a young cocky loudmouth investigative reporter who reeked of seediness. I think it was Marty Griffin, but I’m not sure. He is now a radio host in Pittsburgh and married to former KXAS/NBC5 reporter Kristin Sorensen.
Every bio of former sports anchor Scott Murray states his two most cherished awards are ‘Dad of the Year’ and ‘Father of the Year’. I think the first time I heard that about him was when I was in the fifth grade and I wondered who or what authority can grant such a title? Did his kids simply give him two different mugs and he decided to throw that in his CV?
I have no idea if they do or they don’t, but I’d think Donald and Eric Trump would utilize their father’s iconic plane for travel.
I mentioned BoyGeeding’s kindergarten classmate lost his father this week. Despite it being summer, their teacher emailed the class and is organizing a meal drive as the family is expecting a lot of visiting relatives. She’s a heck of a teacher and a human being.
A little after 8:00 PM this evening my father will have been gone for twenty years. It was the first time I saw anyone die. The nurse, who was close to her retirement years and was with us during his entire hospice stay, was kind enough to stay a few extra hours past her shift because she knew from experience his hours were numbered, literally. I was the only one with him (other than two nurses) and as if it wasn’t real enough already, it really started to sink in when he numbered four breaths a minute. He never looked so helpless, it seemed cruel yet peaceful. I didn’t expect that last breath to look so significant, it was the last time he was full of color because as he exhaled he suddenly turned gray, as if his soul immediately left his body. The nurse asked if I wanted to be alone with him, but I told her that was the last thing I wanted. I gathered the few belongings, kissed him on his forehead, and took the 3.8-mile trip home, which felt like the longest in my life.
I was home for about fifteen minutes when the funeral home called to tell me my father was transported and now in their care. The funeral director was polite and professional, but there was a weirdness about how ordinary it was for him because it was an out of body experience for me.
One of the most awkward feelings anyone can experience is going through a loved one’s possessions, or even entering his or her room, after he or she dies. It just feels intrusive, and it doesn’t matter how long you knew death was coming.
Everyone has their own unique scent. Losing that scent and only having that memory is something special.
The period of time between the death of a loved one and the funeral can seem like forever.
I was looking at pictures of my father yesterday. I haven’t done that in a while. My mental image of him, especially towards the end of his life, was much different than reality.
No need to offer any condolences, it’s been twenty years. I’m as over it as I’m going to be.
The father of one of BoyGeeding’s classmates died this week.
I had a follow-up doctor’s visit yesterday for some routine bloodwork but I didn’t’ get to see my 51-year-old doctor because he was in the hospital for an aortic aneurysm.
I attended my last physical therapy session for my back. It was basically an evaluation of how I’ve progressed and the news is encouraging. Structurally, “I’m fixed” but there’s still pain from muscle and nerve damage. Basically, my physical therapist told me don’t do anything stupid in the future, continue my stretching and exercises, and I should be okay for the rest of my life. He said I have to look out for what life may be like in my seventies and eighties, so try not to do anything which major impact the stress above and below my fusion. Examples of that included weighted squats. I can still do squats, but there’s no need to increase the weight load if I can get by doing other exercises which won’t put the stress on there.
I didn’t date yesterday’s Bag of Randomness correctly.
There was a hospital explosion in central Texas. The first image which came to mind was that scene in The Dark Knight where the Joker blows up the hospital.
