Avoiding the Past (tense)

A year has passed.  My dad did a great blog of our day 2/18/2012…so rather than compete with my dad (hard not to do, we are a competitive bunch) and recreate the day myself, here is a link to his blog post  (Just between you and me, I would probably win.  Not that we are competing or anything, and it is not like I have to win.  It is just better that I do.  His ego is big enough already, we have to keep him in his place.  Mom needs all the help she can get.)

http://skinhorsereal.wordpress.com/2012/03/01/the-deceptiveness-of-dread/ 

I usually write a post and re-write it over several days before I actually post it.  And as some of my subscribers know, I post and then usually make changes almost immediately.  This is the first one I wrote and posted in the same day, so if it jumps around some, that is my excuse.

When asked how many siblings I have, I say 3.  I still have 3.  Will always have 3.  No amount of time will make that number decrease. I find it is hard to refer to Steve in the past tense.  When I talk about him words like “used to” or “had” don’t sound right.  Nor does adding “ed” to words make any sense.  I don’t say “I loved him” because the love never stopped.  I love him.  Simple.

To me he still is.  He IS a fisherman, an athlete, brother, son, husband, father, friend, baker, prankster, promoter, cousin, uncle, nephew, brother-in-law, son-in-law, story-teller, shit starter (yes, I went there…you all know it is true).

And teacher.  There are so many ways he still teaches, not only us but people he just met for a brief moment and people he never met.  I am touched over and over by how much he impacts others.  Makes me realize we don’t often know what others will remember about our interactions.  Probably not how our hair looks (Yes, have to mention the hair.  It is always on my mind, no pun intended.)  Or whether our shoes matched, and I don’t mean match the outfit, but match each other (I don’t know how I made it out the door with two different shoes.  In my mind I told Steve about my shoes and heard him laugh and laugh.  That laughter, though only in my head, was worth looking like a fool for a day).  Maybe people will remember our witty comments, or sarcastic remarks.  Hopefully we will be remembered for our compassion, generosity, and heartfelt kindness that surprises the giver as much as it surprises the receiver…we don’t always know what we are capable of till we reach beyond our comfort zone (I know you will like that one dad, you risk taker you).

And Steve is still full of surprises.  Visiting us when we think we are alone or when we dream.  Sometimes startling us, sometimes making us laugh.  Sometimes just calling out our name, maybe to remind us we not as alone as it feels.  He still tries to comfort us the only way he now can…even if it freaks us out a little.  Actually, he probably likes that he makes us jump every now and then.

He is all he ever was, but I don’t think he is all he will ever be.  Holly found an article written about him in April 2010.  A man commented on the article in November 2010 after having sat by Steve during a flight back from Hawaii.  A total stranger, but after having spent 5 hours next to Steve this man states he “is a better person from having met Steve”.  Five hours and this man was touched by Steve.  Most people don’t leave that kind of impression after 5 years.

That kind of magic never fades, and I am oh so proud every day to be his sister.  (Sorry to those who have to keep hearing me brag…just kidding, I actually am not sorry because I am going to keep doing it.  You have been warned.)

A few bragging articles:

http://abcnews.go.com/Health/MensHealthNews/rare-disease-forces-popular-teacher-retire/story?id=10429408

http://www.komonews.com/news/local/91524984.html

http://www.issaquahpress.com/2010/06/15/never-say-quit-teacher-leaves-a-final-lesson/

http://www.flintofts.com/  This is still available, including the guest book comments

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My turn

Well, my birthday came and went and I survived.  I still don’t know why the birthdays are such a big thing to me this year.  I have not spent every birthday with my family so this fixation is a little weird.

I got through the headache, the shakes, the tears and spent half the day at a casino.  In memory of my brother?  Nope.  He was not a gambler so this was definitely not in his memory.  But he would have gotten some major giggles over the machine Holly found.  Steve got a lot of laughs from a college nickname I had (thanks Deltas) that I was totally innocent of  (totally!).  Thanks Holly, that made my day even if I did not win any money.  Thinking of how much Steve would have laughed at the game and your impression of the main character is priceless.

What did I do in memory of him…spent the other half of the day watching football of course.

Five down, one to go.

Well, today is the last birthday in the family before mine.  Unlike the other birthdays I am unable to be there.  I know family members end up living other places but I have never gotten used to you being so far away.  And never more so than this year.  I felt a sense of desperation that you were so far away as Steve made this one life changing decision that forever changed us all.  We talked about that a little in February, I so wanted everyone in one place.  When you were able to change your schedule the relief I felt was overwhelming.  Though still emotional over what was to come, I felt calmer and less hysterical.  We would all be together.  I could not imagine you not here with us.

While I know your life will continue to take you to new adventures and places, I still regret the distance of land and time between us.  I miss your calm and healing presence, my sister.

A time to dance

It’s funny.  The things you remember.  I went to see the new Footloose  with Holly.  I love the original movie.  The dancing and music really stand out to me and make me want to dance.  It is hard to listen to the title song and not want to shimmy and shake.

I totally forgot the premise of why dancing was outlawed in the movie.   The death of a son, brother, friend.  I have to admit I was a little frozen for parts of the movie.  I forgot the happiness in the movie was preceded by sorrow that tore people apart.

The last few weeks have been rough, but also special.   Birthdays, basketball games, I got to take Kellen to be fitted for his homecoming tux, Maddie off to college, Kellen breaking his leg (missing his homecoming).   My mom and a sister had milestone birthdays this month. 

I feel an intense need to be with everyone on their birthday this year.   And true to my nature I have been trying to figure out why. 

Is it because I don’t want any of us to feel our birthday is less than?  That would be rather egotistical, like I can really make up for Steve being gone.

Am I trying to figure out what it will feel like?  Later this year it will be my turn.  My birthday missing Steve.   So, what does it look like, feel like?  Maybe I can lessen the blow by easing into it, watching other birthdays.   I hope that is not what I am doing, it is creepy and voyeuristic.

So what does this have to do with Footloose.  This movie is about creating a time to dance, giving ourselves permission to dance, even after a tragedy.  One of the memories of Steve I think of a lot is him dancing at my wedding.  And by dancing, I mean he turned in a circle.  All the men lined up and danced one at a time to “I’m too sexy”.  When it was his turn, I wondered what he would do.  I am sure this was not in his comfort zone.  But he went with it.   He danced, and by dancing I mean turned in a circle.  I think he even kept his hands in his pocket.  That simple turn he did meant a lot to me.  This was him dancing. We laughed and laughed.  He could always make us laugh.

I am settling on wanting to help make it as happy a birthday as possible.  I want us all to be able to dance on our birthdays. 

(And I am probably watching.  I prefer to call it being observant over voyeuristic.  It’s my blog so I can call it what I want.)

I Know It’s Taboo, But I Still Thought It Was Safe

Boys against girls.  That’s how we have to play games at my sister’s house.  She and her husband cannot be on the same team.  But do the boys really think they will win a clue giving game against sisters that think a like?  Suckers.

So yes, Hol and I were cruisin’.  Score, Score, Score.  We gave up some points getting buzzed, but hey, we can afford it.  We are way ahead.

It’s my turn, I’m doing pretty good, then WHAM…my clue giving flow is rudely interrupted.  I can’t breathe.  I can’t think.  I can only shake my head no.  At least that is what I think I did.  I pass on the word.  Not just pass…I take it out and put it on the table, it doesn’t belong with the rest of the cards, evil word.  Don’t the game makers know my brother just died?  What were they thinking putting that word in here?   Maybe I could rip it up later?  I wonder if Holly and Mike would notice it missing.  I can’t see the next word.  I am still shaking my head no, at least I think I am.  How much time has gone by, maybe an hour?  A day?   I am sure the timer has run out, it must have.  Maybe this is a nightmare and I am stuck in time. 

Quick thinking Holly knocks the timer over.  We cry a little.  Then it’s back to the game, we are our brother’s sisters after all–competitive.

It’s an innocent game.  Just a game.  Just a word on a card. 

Ashes.

(In case you are wondering, we still won)

Just My Imagination…

Yesterday was my dad’s birthday.  I wanted to ask him what it was like.  The first one without Steve.  I didn’t even mention his name.  Sometimes I am not sure if I should talk about him, maybe it will make someone cry…make me cry.  But if I don’t talk about him does it look like I forgot him?  But if I talk about him too much will it look like I am obsessing?  If I don’t, does it look like I don’t care? 

So I didn’t mention his name.  I didn’t ask what it was like to have a birthday without him.  I just pretended it didn’t happen.  Chicken.

But today, Chris and I went to the cemetery to see Steve’s plaque.  Can’t pretend there. We just sat on the bench and I cried.  It still does not seem real.  It can’t be real.   This was not supposed to happen.  I cannot imagine him gone, and I can’t wish him back.

I don’t know how long we sat there.  The tears just wouldn’t stop.  I used to make a lot of noise when I cried hard.  Now it just seems like the tears silently pour down my face.  The plaque says “Always in our hearts” which is perfect.  He is in my heart.  I thought my heart was incomplete, but it can’t be with him still there.  All the pieces are there, but it hurts.  What I found is my heart is bruised. 

Later we walked around town a little, visited the creek Steve used to fish.  Chris pointed out places Steve used to take him fishing when we were young.  Another thing I did not know about Steve until recently…he used to take three of my guy friends fishing when we were in elementary school and Steve was in high school.  How cool is that?

I find myself wishing I had more imagination.  I could use my imagination to revive memories I did not know I would need later.  Memories of things forgotten long ago that I did not know were important.  Memories of him I did not know would be so treasured now that I can’t create more.  If I could have imagined ever loosing him so early, I could have written down every story he told, every funny moment we shared, every trick he pulled, every giving gesture he made.  I could have recorded his giggle that I miss so much.  

Better yet, I could have imagined a cure and we would not have lost him.  Imagine that.

In Your Living Years

Why, I ask, am I here?  In your living years you asked me to go to Sun Valley with you and your family many times.  I never did.  Why…Look at the name, “SUN” Valley.  I knew it would be hot.  You know I don’t like the heat.  Or hiking, biking, running, tennis, any number of other things to do in Sun Valley…any kind of exercise really.  I never could figure out why you wanted me to go.  Probably to share the price of the condo?

But here I am, in Sun Valley.  Hiking.  In the sun.  Not in your living years.  Why?  To help spread your energy in this place you lived, laughed, loved.  I wanted to be part of this…I really did, but I did not want to hike to Baker Lake.  Before you left us I asked if you would want part of yourself to be taken to Yellowstone.  That I could do, I can drive there.  No hiking required.  But no, you just wanted to be left at Baker Lake. 

I was not sure I could do this hike.  I came, but I expected to either wait at the house for everyone to get back…or maybe try to hike but stop part way and read will everyone came down.  A couple of days before the hike I had a dream.  In the dream we were trying to get you up a river bank.  We laughed so hard because you kept making jokes using one liners like “with a little help from my friend” or “lean on me”.  The whole dream was pulling you, and laughing so hard we would fall back down, in the mud.  I woke up laughing.  You motivated me to do try the hike I was dreading so much.

I talked to you as I hiked, relived memories, and I cursed you a few times.  I really don’t like to hike.  Give me strength to finish Steve.  Why in the hell did you choose this place? Remember when you took me to college with you?  How about our joke when you would call me on the phone and ask me “Who is this?”  Another fly just bit me, thanks Steve.  I miss the way you tell a story, the way you giggle.  I hope you know how much I love you, look, I am hiking for you. The dream of you laughing was such a precious gift.  Help me finish this hike.  I hope I brought as much joy to your life as you brought to mine, still bring to mine.  I miss you, really I do, but this lake better be worth it.  Was that another fly?

The hike was worth it, eventually.  And the lake was beautiful.  I took many breaks to catch my breath but I didn’t mind stopping so many times.  Each pause surrounded me with butterflies.  And huge biting flies, which I tried to ignore.  There were butterflies, everywhere.   When I finally got to the lake I imagined you would have giggled a little at how long it took me.  Not a giggle to mock me.  But still a giggle.  Bec and Polly said you would have been proud of me for finishing the hike.  That was interesting to think about.  I don’t know if I ever made you proud.  Were you as proud to be my brother as I was to be your sister?  That would give me something to think about on the way down…which also took me awhile.

Leaving you at Baker Lake fitted.  You will be at peace, forever fishing.  As Ken went out on the lake to spread your ashes there were times he almost looked like you.  I hope you were with all of us as we wrote our messages to you on rocks and tossed them in the lake to forever with you.  I hope you heard Maddie’s song to you, it was perfect.  There were many people there to send you off, and many more that wanted to come.  In your quiet way you had a huge impact on so many.  The generosity of Polly, Kellen and Maddie is amazing.  To let us all share this moment with them.

I did not like Sun Valley.  I am glad I went though as I got to know more about you.  Polly pointed out all the things you guys would do here.  I was struck again with how much you truly and completely lived.  In your living years, short as they were, you lived life more fully than most people will do in several lifetimes.   Even the days you said good-bye to everyone were full of laughter and living. 

In the living years without you, I will try to never forget the life and energy within you.  I will always try to make the most of my living years.

Can it be a Happy Mother’s Day?

Even though we didn’t talk about him much, he impacted us today.  We are a close family but we don’t always spend days like mother or father’s day together.  I guess we don’t feel the need to get together on a commercial holiday just because we are supposed to.  We do cards, sometimes small gifts (mom always says not to get her anything but we don’t always listen), or we call.  But we didn’t usually plan to get together.

But this year my sisters and I took my mom out to lunch.  Funny, I am not sure we have ever done that for mother’s day before, or at least not for a very long time.  I wanted to say to her “I am sorry”.  Sorry that you lost a very special son. Sorry for this loss that we can never fill.   I know my mom loves us all equally.  But there is probably nothing we can really do on a day like today to make it better.  I don’t think I even said the words “Happy Mother’s Day” today. 

I guess my brother gave my mom black licorice and biscotti every year.  Unlike a lot of men, he probably shopped for it himself.   Last year I took him shopping so he could buy his wife a birthday present.  Even though he could not get  there without help, and he could barely walk, and he could not wrap it himself, he still wanted to shop and pick out the present himself.  So my sister-in-law gave my mom some black licorice and biscotti today.  That was so incredibly sweet for her to remember and think of my mom today.

Niche

Today we gathered to put my brother’s ashes in his niche at the cemetery.   He rests in the perfect spot, close by where we lived as kids, overlooking the little town (well, it was little 40 years ago) we grew up in.  His daughter sang.  I could not even talk, I wanted to.  She sang.  Her dad would have been so proud of her. 

I thought today would feel like some kind of closure, help me move on.  It didn’t.

I voted for WHAT?!

The Death with Dignity Law became effective in Washington in 2009.  I voted for it.  But actually going through this with someone you love can make you ask yourself, what in the world was I thinking?

When my brother picked an actual day to die, for a moment I wished the law had not passed.  In theory, death with dignity sounds like a good idea.  But when faced with the reality it was a shock.  I have to admit there were many times during the last few weeks I did not feel like I had any dignity, hence the temper tantrum with an empty peanut butter container.

But, it was only moments.  Brief and painful moments. At first I was ashamed of my reaction.  But, I think it was something I had to go through.  Get it out of my system so I could be there for him.

It was a beautiful morning. Some might find it inappropriate or strange for me to say that.  But beautiful it was.

This morning we gathered again.  My brother, his wife and kids spent much of the morning alone together.  Around 9:00 am, his chosen time, we circled him.  Those that wanted to spoke again.  

Their family dog said his own good-bye.  Once we all stood around my brother the dog ran down the stairs and jumped on the bed next to him.  My brother and his wife were holding hands.  The dog licked my brother’s hand over and over.  The dog jumping on the bed and licking are both unusual actions.  After a bit the dog stopped, looked up at my brother very intently for a few seconds, then started licking again.  After my brother drank the medicine, the dog then licked the hand of the volunteer who gave my brother the cup.  Almost like he was saying “It’s ok, thank you for helping relieve his suffering”.

One of my sister’s gave us all a heart-shaped piece of coral to hold.  I know we will all treasure these hearts forever.

His kids were amazing (ages 15 and 17).  They stayed by him, touching him.  After a few minutes he fell asleep.  And snored, which gave us some comic relief.  The muscles stiff for so long let go and it was wonderful to see.  It had felt like forever before we had seen him like this, relaxed with his back straight and his head up.  This disease had contorted him so much.  I am glad his kids were able to see him like this again.  That one of their last memories of him will be of him looking close to like he used to.

After awhile his breathing quieted.  His daughter leaned over and kissed his chest and he made a loud noise.  This was probably close to his last breath.  It was like her kiss released him.

This truly was death with dignity, a most appropriate name.  Despite our tears, anger at this disease, fear of losing him, anquish for his wife and kids, my parents, each other, our selves.  Ultimately I wish my brother never became ill.  But he did.  This is probably the most dignified event I have ever witnessed. I am so thankful I could be a part of it. I am forever changed.

Just Another Thursday Night (tomorrow we say good-bye)

Tonight we gathered for dinner at my brother’s house.  My dad cooked salmon, my brother’s request.  After dinner we shared memories.  Old memories, memories some of us heard for the first time, memories we have shared over and over.  We laughed till we cried.

We cried.  Tonight would be the last time our family would be whole.  Tomorrow my brother dies.  Tonight we gathered to say good-bye.  To create a new memory. To let him know how much we love him and will miss him.  And support this decision.

I don’t think any of us wanted to leave.  Maybe if the night never ended we could keep him here with us forever.  Like the last verse in P!nk’s song “Glitter”, we wished for an endless night, to hold the moon and stars in place and never let go. 

We are so lucky to have this tragic moment, to be able to say good-bye and have him say it back.   We all had a quiet word with him, I don’t know what the others said to him and I can’t remember all that I said.  We had a giggle when I knelt beside him and he said “Hello Lisa”.  We talked for a bit.  He told me he was glad we went to Yellowstone.  It was his last time there and my first.  I told him how much I love his kids and I would always be there for them.  I told him I love him.  I want so badly for him to know how much I love him.  A couple days ago we talked and I told him I did not know how to tell him what he means to me.  He said he knew how I felt about him.  If that is true then somehow I did something right. 

My parents clung to each other after their good-bye.  I cannot imagine their sorrow. 

Before we left he made us laugh, with a twinkle in his eye he claimed all the stories about him were untrue.

We come back tomorrow to see him one last time.

Translating love.

I am reading a book about the language of love, how people express their love for others and I think how people interpret how they are loved.  The book says there are 5 ways we express love:

  1. Affirmation
  2. Quality Time
  3. Gifts
  4. Acts of Service
  5. Physical Touch

My way, not sure yet.  Depending on the person I think I do all of these.

How does my brother express love, I think acts of service or quality time.   It is definitely not affirmations or physical touch (he is a one arm hug kinda guy).  He gives laughter, bakes, remembers small details about someone, helps in times of need. 

Right now we shower him in all forms of love.  We are drowning him with it, desperately trying to find ways to show we care, how much we care.   He is probably tired of it some days, overwhelmed with the level of attention.   But I can’t help thinking what a privilege we have to be able to do this.  Even if we are going a little overboard and annoying the crap out of him.

And while he is flooded with all our waves of love I also think how lost he must be thinking he no can no longer show his love.   He really hasn’t lost it, but he probably thinks he has.    He can no longer do as much for others, but he can still give quality time.  He feels like people must be bored spending time with him now.  What he does not realize is the time we spend with him now is so important, at least to me.  None of it is wasted.  Even if we just sit and watch episodes of Glee.  Every second is worth it, he is worth it.

He knows how much we are all crying, how that must crush him.  When he has spent so much time showing us his love by making us laugh, it must drive him crazy to hear our hearts breaking.

Pause for the cause.

Normally I am a very impatient person. I hate waiting for anything.  I usually multitask all day long, physically and mentally. 

I have patience in one place in my life, helping my brother.   Everything my brother does seems to be in slow motion.  It is so hard to watch him do things for himself, I just want to reach over and do it for him.  Not because I am impatient but because I don’t want to see him struggle.   Waiting for him to get in or out of the car, sit, stand, walk, feels like time has stopped.  He pauses in motion…does he need help, is he thinking of his next move, is he willing his limbs to cooperate?  I try to always ask first, “do you need help?”  I don’t want to assume.  Sometimes he says yes.  Other times he says he can do it so I wait till he is done.

Helping him is the most important task of that day.  It is the only task of the moment.  I not only physically wait, but my thoughts slow down too.  Everything focuses to being in the moment.  At times it is almost peaceful, everything I do and think in my multitasking world pauses.  There is so little I can do for him, but I can make him the center of my attention for that moment.  Then, when we are done with that task.  I step away, take a deep breath…and all my multitasking tendencies come back in a rush.

If it were possible I would patiently wait for him for him for the rest of my life.

Half Day Fret Free

After the Christmas vacation everyone is back at work or school, which leaves my brother alone for several hours and leaves us all in a state of panic.  I think he likes some of the time alone…but there is a lot he shouldn’t do by himself….like walk or try to go up stairs. 

My husband is spending a few hours a day with him now.  We would like it to be more hours, but my brother wants some time alone, and for now while he can be alone I guess we have to let him choose.  We all still worry though, but at least it is a few hours a day less.  

My husband is really enjoying it.  He likes to help people and he loves my brother.  They laugh, read, talk, walk.  He takes him to some appointments.

When my husband said he would do it I burst into tears. I told my husband how much this means to me and my family.  We worry so much about my brother being alone. 

It means so much to me, I don’t think I can even tell him how much.  So much worry was lifted from my mind, the tension of wondering if he was ok.  Personality wise, they are probably a good match to spend hours together every day.  My husband is kind, helpful, caring, but also not intrusive.  The rest of us would probably be bugging my brother all day with questions and what we would think is helpful advice.  My husband has a way of making people feel good about themselves. 

I am touched more than I can say, and so proud of him.

I don’t need a hero, just my brother

When I was younger, and sometimes still today, my family would say “you are so smart”.  Sometimes it was a compliment, sometimes an accusation. I hated it.  Still do.  Sometimes my co-workers say it too. 

Doesn’t everyone want people to think they are smart?  Why is this a problem?  Because it comes with a burden and responsibility I did not ask for.  If people think you are smart they don’t think you need help, or you should have more tasks than others, or make fewer mistakes, people rely on you more as if they are more functional with you around to remember things for them, figure out things for them.  It takes the burden off themselves if they don’t think they have to use their brain if your brain is around.  I did not then and still do not believe I am as smart as people say.  Some people learn better visually, others by doing and others by hearing.  I am someone who can learn all three ways, sometimes I need all three ways.  That makes me adaptable but not smarter.  I think differently than others, have a different perspective.  That’s all.

I wonder how my brother feels when he hears people say he is courageous, that he is their hero.  He is very quiet about how he feels about this disease.  He doesn’t complain, yell, cry out at the unfairness.  I wonder, does he feel he can?  If after hearing how much people admire him, are in awe at his calmness and his courage does he feel he can show what might be seen as signs of weakness or despair?  Will he feel he has let everyone down?  Will he feel guilty that he is not as brave as everyone thinks he is?

He must feel fury, anguish, the unfairness, he must.  How can he not?   Does he feel a burden that he must be the hero everyone thinks he is?  Be strong and suffer silently?

Often times when a tragedy happens to a loved one, everyone talks about how wonderful the person was.  If we are to believe all the interviews of the family and friends from new stories and true crime documentaries, only the good, happy, wonderful, loving, perfect people are killed or die a horrible death.  Maybe that is comforting to those of us less than perfect.  We can tell ourself it won’t happen to us because we are not the perfect human that the victim was. 

Well, I love my brother to death, but he is no perfect person.  This is a good time to remember all the wonderful times, but also not lose sight that he has faults too, like us all. 

So I give him permission to not be a hero.  To let it out, to scream, yell, fall down under the unbearable weight of anguish, to be angry he won’t see his kids marry, be a granddad, that he won’t ever fish again, jog with this wife, play hoops with his kids.  That his family will be less…husbandless, fatherless, sonless, brotherless. 

Permission to just be and know it is ok.  We love him anyways.   Frankly, for me, it will make him more of a hero, and someone I would aspire to be and could be.  Human.

Who loves you baby?

So we got back over a month ago.  Yellowstone was wonderful.  The weather was super the entire time. 

It was strange though…I have never traveled with a person with disabilities.   It was probably strange for him too. 

On the first day traveling I noticed that we were all battling over who could help my brother the most.  Who could buy him the treat he wanted, who would get that item for him, etc.  I took a step back and thought, what in the world are we doing?  It was like a sick competition. 

We are all so desperate to help him but I wonder how much of it is helping him and how much is helping us to feel better.  Maybe we think he will know how much we love him by how much we help him.  Maybe it makes us feel less guilty for being mobile and less dependent on others for basic living needs.  Whatever it is, once I stepped back and saw what we were doing I stopped.  At least I think I stopped.   I want so badly to make it better, and there is so little that will.

I think more often than not he just wants to be left alone, at least for now.  He can still do a lot for himself on some days.  But he never knows from day to day, or even during the day if he needs help or not.

http://birdsalltrip.wordpress.com/ link to the blog about our roadtip

 

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