Today is chemo treatment #2 for Larry - this morning it was radiation as usual he is in his fourth week of radiation for throat cancer. His prognosis is good..they give him an 80% cure rate. It is an uphill battle to keep his weight up, so far the radiation doctor is happy with his weight, Larry wants to avoid having a feeding tube placed at all costs, doesn't want it.
It is actually a good think that Larry was overweight to begin with. He started this whole cancer trip at about 260 lbs....today he weighed in at 232 lbs. The radiation/chemo treatments are rough on your system, the fact that the tumor is at the back of his tongue doesn't help with the eating/swallowing factor.
Larry is kind of a straight up guy, made hardened by the mean streets of New :York...he calls it as he sees it. Refuses pain meds, even after having to have his teeth removed in order to avoid major problems from the radiation. I guess if the pain gets really bad he will cave - maybe.
Anyway, Monday to Friday for seven weeks...radiation therapy and on the 45th day the last round of chemo.
we all are on edge trying to do our best to keep his morale up, feed him well...and keep him alive. I feel at least Barb has a chance at saving her hubby, I didn't get a chance....
Monday, February 7, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Sent to Mary Focarino Gallagher
Written by Joe Doscher as a thank you to Mary & Coleen...
I left it the way he wrote..in his own way, his way of talking.....
"year's ago i met a lady,a person of brightness.she alway's looked for the silver lining.time's would be bad or worse,but she would still smile like a candle on the darkess night.proud to stand with her.we have had our time's.good bad terr...ible and great.three did we raise,three that i am proud to call our's.our daugter while growing up,alway's had her friend's over.show up anytime,stay all the time,sleep over.they would drive me out of my mind.never knew who would be in the house.morning would be a trip,really steping over them,because they stayed up alnight watching t.v..my lady would only smile at my complaint's,who ate my lunch ,who's pant's are these,what happen too the cookie's,what do you mean i have to pick them up.drove me crazy.smile she would and a small laugh,my lady would say they are here,they are good what more could we ask. 20+year's have gone bye,while vist'ing our daughter suffer'ed heart failure.these pain in the ass,rotten,loud ,annoying,girl fiend's where there.ladie's of brightness they had become.long drive from picking me up at the airport,not a short trip,a hard hug and a tear,a small smile of hope.stood tall they did.helping,in every way.with them there i knew my daughter was in good hand's.the comfort they gave just by being there. thank you colleen and mary may you have children who have friend's like you. thank you" Joe
Written by Joe Doscher as a thank you to Mary & Coleen...
I left it the way he wrote..in his own way, his way of talking.....
"year's ago i met a lady,a person of brightness.she alway's looked for the silver lining.time's would be bad or worse,but she would still smile like a candle on the darkess night.proud to stand with her.we have had our time's.good bad terr...ible and great.three did we raise,three that i am proud to call our's.our daugter while growing up,alway's had her friend's over.show up anytime,stay all the time,sleep over.they would drive me out of my mind.never knew who would be in the house.morning would be a trip,really steping over them,because they stayed up alnight watching t.v..my lady would only smile at my complaint's,who ate my lunch ,who's pant's are these,what happen too the cookie's,what do you mean i have to pick them up.drove me crazy.smile she would and a small laugh,my lady would say they are here,they are good what more could we ask. 20+year's have gone bye,while vist'ing our daughter suffer'ed heart failure.these pain in the ass,rotten,loud ,annoying,girl fiend's where there.ladie's of brightness they had become.long drive from picking me up at the airport,not a short trip,a hard hug and a tear,a small smile of hope.stood tall they did.helping,in every way.with them there i knew my daughter was in good hand's.the comfort they gave just by being there. thank you colleen and mary may you have children who have friend's like you. thank you" Joe
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Difficult Days
I guess I have been pretty lucky finding myself well insulated from experiencing the death of close relatives. Oh, of course, I lost my beloved Grandparents on each side when I was in my thirties. Even then, because of the longevity in our family they had lived well beyond the norm. Right now my Dad is 94 and my Mom is 90...and actually pretty healthy living at home with my sister and BIL.
My beloved Joe died in June, 2010 - my cousin Millie just passed a few days ago, my second cousin Evelyn died last month, we are fighting for my BIL Larry life as I write this, my other cousin in Washington Tina is doing the same for her husband Fernando...I pray to God that a total cure for all cancer could be found and please God now.
Life started on a downturn with my getting pneumonia when I flew up to New York in December 2008......Of course, I don't remember anything but they tell me I died and had to be coded 6 times before my heart would return to normal. Everything else had shut down too, so I had to undergo blood transfusions, and also dialysis every other day for weeks. My kidneys never did recover completely...they only process at 2/3 the rate they should, so I have to be careful what I eat, drink and do. I also suffered heart problems too so they put me in the cardiac unit to be watch...I was hooked up to so many lines that I could not move too much - the only things on my body that I had control over were my feet and ankles...so I kept moving them up and down and sideways. I was in intensive care for over a week, mostly unconscious and the doctors kept telling my family that I most probably would not come out of it because I had been oxygen deprived for so long.
The first vivid memory that I have is opening my eyes to see my lovely daughter Alisa..saying "Mom, Mom..Mom's awake!" to all the others in the room...she ten put her hand up in front of my face and asked how many fingers do I have up? I answered her...then her next question was "Mom...do you believe in Vampires"...I know I shook my head yes...Alisa started yelling..."Mom's Back! Mom's Back!".....oh, but what a road was yet to come....
Poor Joe never left my side, he had to be pulled away to go home to take a shower, eat.....he massaged my feet, my back, rubbed what he could on my arms trying to keep my circulation going....it helped. They had really done a number on me with all the lines put in and had actually blown a hole in the top of my hand - my arms and hand were like huge balloons and extremely hot. Alisa had brought in some heavy hand towels so we soaked them in cool water and applied them to my hands and arms...I did this repeatedly...it helped so much I was able to reduce the swelling a lot.
I had also caused damage to myself when I awoke in the ICU with the breathing tube still in...in my delirium I thought I was drowning and some alien was trying to get down my throat...so I reached up and yanked the tube out...not a good thing to do. I hurt my throat so that for almost a month I had to use ice chips to soothe it...as a result I now have a soft growth right where I did the damage by my thyroid.
I was in that hospital bed for over 35 days and they only got me to sit up two times, as a result I lost most of my muscle mass so I could not stand or sit up or walk on my own. I felt like a newborn baby. They decided I was well enough to be transferred to a rehab place...well, the place was actually horrible...it was dead of winter arrived by ambulance cold and tired. The attendants there insisted as soon as they got my coat off that I should strip for a shower...I told them I was freezing could they wait till I felt a little warmer? The answer was NO! So the two of them bullied me into the shower in a special wheelchair, started the water - it was not even warm.....that's the last thing I remember...I evidently passed out, scared the crap out of them...they had to get the paramedic's back in and I was transferred to a lovely Catholic hospital...again ICU. Turns out I was coming down with another bout of pneumonia...oh all through this I have been on oxygen too.
The doctors at this hospital were wonderful, they had me diagnosed with COPD within two days, and cured of the pneumonia in eight days. They also, even with all the lines in, had the nurses get me out of bed into a chair and a side potty...the joy of even sitting up is unexplainable unless you have been paralyzed you would not know..
The only scary part was my hand were still bad, it was difficult for me to use a fork or knife...one day trying to do it I dislodged a main line that was into an artery....I kept pressure on it but could not reach the button to call for help..so I lay there screaming for help...luckily a man was visiting next door and went for help for me....I had visions of bleeding out in the bed....still scares me now. The nurses were able to control it and I got yelled at for it...but the shunt wasn't put in properly I think. In the first hospital, my youngest son Joey came every day to feed me and he would stay till dinner time and he did this for thirty day, bless his heart such a good son. My daughter Alisa came and brought me special foods that she thought would help me heal better...nothing tasted better than her Italian Wedding Soup!
After I healed a bit, they wanted to send me back to that awful place where I passed out...I absolutely refused to go there. I felt the attendants should have at least listened to me instead of rushing me into a cold shower. Thankfully my daughter found a wonderful Jewish Nursing Home on Long Island...it was old but comfortable and clean. The nursing staff and attendants were loving, caring people and I cannot say enough for the rehab staff. I arrived (with daughter following me this time) late one night and they took their time to get me settled into the room. Yes, I did need a shower but the attendant asked me if I was up to it, did I feel alright? And the water was warm/hot makes such a difference. All I can say is I arrived there unable to sit up or turn over...and three days later they had me up in a wheelchair do strengthening exercises with the rehab staff.
I arrived there on February 4th and was determined to be back home at my daughters by her birthday on March 9th. It was an uphill battle but I was able to walk, using a walker, out of the nursing home on March 6th..in time for her birthday....it was great to start to feel a bit normal again.
I had some strange experiences in the hospital and the nursing home...In the hospital the first roommate that I had came from Clearwater Florida just above where I had been living. The nurse came from a section on 49th street in Pinellas Park just a hop-skip from where I lived. Then when I got to the nursing home...there was an elderly lady in the bed next to me, she had dementia. The next day a middle aged couple came in to visit her and they looked vaguely familiar to me. They introduced themselves and said they came from Richmond Hill, I said that's where I was from before moving to Florida...110th St...they looked at each other and said...we live on 110th St off of 109 Ave....turns out they lived three doors from me..their daughter was our newsboy..the man was the guy who used to put all the block parties on...so of course they looked familiar! For some reason the elderly woman could talk to me, she remembered her daughters name and told me stories from years ago. It was around Valentines day so I asked Alisa to bring a stuffed bear for her...she had nothing in her bed to amuse her or to hold on to. The bear worked like a charm, she would sing to it like it was a baby and it calmed her down too. She had fallen at home and broken her hip, she was recuperating but her daughter was afraid that she could not be on her own at all anymore...both of them had to work..before the fall they had hired a sitter to come in for part of the day and look after her...but her condition was getting a lot worse. But I thought what a strange thing to happen...I move away from a place for 24 years only to find myself in a room with an ex neighbor - where does that happen? I felt comforted in that I was able to make this lady's life a little more happy....
This has been a rambling entry - sorry folks...but life sometimes just rambles....
My beloved Joe died in June, 2010 - my cousin Millie just passed a few days ago, my second cousin Evelyn died last month, we are fighting for my BIL Larry life as I write this, my other cousin in Washington Tina is doing the same for her husband Fernando...I pray to God that a total cure for all cancer could be found and please God now.
Life started on a downturn with my getting pneumonia when I flew up to New York in December 2008......Of course, I don't remember anything but they tell me I died and had to be coded 6 times before my heart would return to normal. Everything else had shut down too, so I had to undergo blood transfusions, and also dialysis every other day for weeks. My kidneys never did recover completely...they only process at 2/3 the rate they should, so I have to be careful what I eat, drink and do. I also suffered heart problems too so they put me in the cardiac unit to be watch...I was hooked up to so many lines that I could not move too much - the only things on my body that I had control over were my feet and ankles...so I kept moving them up and down and sideways. I was in intensive care for over a week, mostly unconscious and the doctors kept telling my family that I most probably would not come out of it because I had been oxygen deprived for so long.
The first vivid memory that I have is opening my eyes to see my lovely daughter Alisa..saying "Mom, Mom..Mom's awake!" to all the others in the room...she ten put her hand up in front of my face and asked how many fingers do I have up? I answered her...then her next question was "Mom...do you believe in Vampires"...I know I shook my head yes...Alisa started yelling..."Mom's Back! Mom's Back!".....oh, but what a road was yet to come....
Poor Joe never left my side, he had to be pulled away to go home to take a shower, eat.....he massaged my feet, my back, rubbed what he could on my arms trying to keep my circulation going....it helped. They had really done a number on me with all the lines put in and had actually blown a hole in the top of my hand - my arms and hand were like huge balloons and extremely hot. Alisa had brought in some heavy hand towels so we soaked them in cool water and applied them to my hands and arms...I did this repeatedly...it helped so much I was able to reduce the swelling a lot.
I had also caused damage to myself when I awoke in the ICU with the breathing tube still in...in my delirium I thought I was drowning and some alien was trying to get down my throat...so I reached up and yanked the tube out...not a good thing to do. I hurt my throat so that for almost a month I had to use ice chips to soothe it...as a result I now have a soft growth right where I did the damage by my thyroid.
I was in that hospital bed for over 35 days and they only got me to sit up two times, as a result I lost most of my muscle mass so I could not stand or sit up or walk on my own. I felt like a newborn baby. They decided I was well enough to be transferred to a rehab place...well, the place was actually horrible...it was dead of winter arrived by ambulance cold and tired. The attendants there insisted as soon as they got my coat off that I should strip for a shower...I told them I was freezing could they wait till I felt a little warmer? The answer was NO! So the two of them bullied me into the shower in a special wheelchair, started the water - it was not even warm.....that's the last thing I remember...I evidently passed out, scared the crap out of them...they had to get the paramedic's back in and I was transferred to a lovely Catholic hospital...again ICU. Turns out I was coming down with another bout of pneumonia...oh all through this I have been on oxygen too.
The doctors at this hospital were wonderful, they had me diagnosed with COPD within two days, and cured of the pneumonia in eight days. They also, even with all the lines in, had the nurses get me out of bed into a chair and a side potty...the joy of even sitting up is unexplainable unless you have been paralyzed you would not know..
The only scary part was my hand were still bad, it was difficult for me to use a fork or knife...one day trying to do it I dislodged a main line that was into an artery....I kept pressure on it but could not reach the button to call for help..so I lay there screaming for help...luckily a man was visiting next door and went for help for me....I had visions of bleeding out in the bed....still scares me now. The nurses were able to control it and I got yelled at for it...but the shunt wasn't put in properly I think. In the first hospital, my youngest son Joey came every day to feed me and he would stay till dinner time and he did this for thirty day, bless his heart such a good son. My daughter Alisa came and brought me special foods that she thought would help me heal better...nothing tasted better than her Italian Wedding Soup!
After I healed a bit, they wanted to send me back to that awful place where I passed out...I absolutely refused to go there. I felt the attendants should have at least listened to me instead of rushing me into a cold shower. Thankfully my daughter found a wonderful Jewish Nursing Home on Long Island...it was old but comfortable and clean. The nursing staff and attendants were loving, caring people and I cannot say enough for the rehab staff. I arrived (with daughter following me this time) late one night and they took their time to get me settled into the room. Yes, I did need a shower but the attendant asked me if I was up to it, did I feel alright? And the water was warm/hot makes such a difference. All I can say is I arrived there unable to sit up or turn over...and three days later they had me up in a wheelchair do strengthening exercises with the rehab staff.
I arrived there on February 4th and was determined to be back home at my daughters by her birthday on March 9th. It was an uphill battle but I was able to walk, using a walker, out of the nursing home on March 6th..in time for her birthday....it was great to start to feel a bit normal again.
I had some strange experiences in the hospital and the nursing home...In the hospital the first roommate that I had came from Clearwater Florida just above where I had been living. The nurse came from a section on 49th street in Pinellas Park just a hop-skip from where I lived. Then when I got to the nursing home...there was an elderly lady in the bed next to me, she had dementia. The next day a middle aged couple came in to visit her and they looked vaguely familiar to me. They introduced themselves and said they came from Richmond Hill, I said that's where I was from before moving to Florida...110th St...they looked at each other and said...we live on 110th St off of 109 Ave....turns out they lived three doors from me..their daughter was our newsboy..the man was the guy who used to put all the block parties on...so of course they looked familiar! For some reason the elderly woman could talk to me, she remembered her daughters name and told me stories from years ago. It was around Valentines day so I asked Alisa to bring a stuffed bear for her...she had nothing in her bed to amuse her or to hold on to. The bear worked like a charm, she would sing to it like it was a baby and it calmed her down too. She had fallen at home and broken her hip, she was recuperating but her daughter was afraid that she could not be on her own at all anymore...both of them had to work..before the fall they had hired a sitter to come in for part of the day and look after her...but her condition was getting a lot worse. But I thought what a strange thing to happen...I move away from a place for 24 years only to find myself in a room with an ex neighbor - where does that happen? I felt comforted in that I was able to make this lady's life a little more happy....
This has been a rambling entry - sorry folks...but life sometimes just rambles....
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
It's Been A While....
I don't have too many pictures of Joe on line...this one is rough he had been working in the front yard and was all "grizzled" as he liked to say. I have a bunch of good photo's that I have to burn to a disc...I bought the machine to transfer them just have not found the time as yet to do it. TIME...where does it go? I thought I had all the time in the world with him, we had planned so many things to do....day trips around Florida to sites we had not seen, we were going to head up to Norfolk, Virginia so I could visit my Aunt and put flowers on my Grandparents grave...on the way we planned to visit Joe's sister Jean in Georgia. We spoke about relocating out west in either Oregon or Washington State...we both missed the sight of mountains, valleys and heavily treed forests. It would also put us closer to where our youngest son is now living.....
Instead death came creeping quietly in on a normal Wednesday morn to steal my love away....suddenly, in his sleep.
My Joe was sort of my rock, he could fix things and problems too. Of course, we had in our relationship, big problems that were beyond both of us to fix...I am speaking about physical things, like the roof collapsing, the damage to the underlying structure was too severe to fix. Should never of bought a house built out of wood in Florida....and even when you check for termites doesn't mean a thing...cause a month later they can swarm in again.
We survived it....but the house is probably what made me sick to begin with and I think it played a huge part in Joe's death too. As much as he loved the property and all his plants he hated that house...I think because it bested him.
When I first came back to Florida I could not live in the house because of the mold so I stayed at my sisters & parents house for about six months...until we were able to purchase a mobile home in a quiet park in Saint Petersburg. It was an older model, but it had a screen porch, covered carport and extra large walk in shed on the pad too. It also had two bedrooms, kitchen, living room, bathroom and plenty of large closets. So it was ideal for the two of us. Joe had lost a lot of weight during the full year that I was not with him, I felt so guilty about this...even though I made care packages for him at my sisters.
At first, Joe seemed to perk up a bit being back together and all...he added a bit of weight - but about three months into the new year (2010) he started complaining about food bothering his stomach, couldn't stand the smell of my cooking with any spices...and he cut back on what he ate. I tried to get him to go to a doctor and he refused, saying it's just simple indigestion. It wasn't.
Because of my near death experience Joe & I often spoke about death...I came out of it not so afraid of death anymore. He accepted that and also believed in an afterlife. He absolutely knew he would see his Ma & Pa, Mom & Dad and brothers again. He kept telling me that he would feel like he was "going home" and also that Doscher's check out fast, they don't hang around once the gong has sounded....and that's exactly what he did.....
Monday, September 7, 2009
Chief Stark Hero of 9/11 --- 2996 Lives Lost
What makes a person a hero? Wikipedia defines the word HERO as a "protector", "defender", or "guardian". A hero displays great courage in the face of danger or adversity, having the will for self-sacrifice - for the greater good.You are looking at a picture of an actual hero...his name was Lawrence T. Stack, he was a Battalion Chief for Battalion 50, he was 58 years old on 9/11/01. He grew up in College Point, New York. He and his family lived in Lake Ronkonkoma, New York on 9/11/01.
Chief Stack was a devoted husband to his wife Terri, they had been married since 1967. He was the father of three children, Michael, Brian and Kathy. He loved his family and he cared deeply for the lives of the firemen that he worked with.
His job on that fateful day was to ensure the safety of firefighters.
According to statements, Chief Stack had been writing up a report on a really bad fire that took place in Queens, called the Father's Day Fire, three firefighters had lost their lives in that blaze. I can imagine him sitting there, he had to be heavyhearted over the loss...and hearing the call go out regarding the attack on the Towers had to be heart rending. He jumped into a department car and raced to the scene....
Even though he could of stayed back that could not of been his way...I can visualize him climbing those stairs - telling people that were coming down.."Hurry along now...it will be alright"....
Climbing ever higher....knowing what was waiting was akin to Dante's Infernal...a true measure of the word hero....
Reading through Chief Stark's different memorials, it was noted that his fondest wish was for his youngest son to join the force.....and that did happen. So many people had good memories of him, sometimes that is the measure of the man...please keep him, his family and the other 2995 people in your thoughts and prayers.
Remember 2996......9/11
Just saying that date sends shivers of painful emotion coursing through my soul. I am transported back in my mind's eye, remembering this horrific day.
Why remember? Two Thousand and Ninety-Six lives were lost, they became casualties in this war of terror...innocents lost to maniacal evil.
They need to be remembered, for someone to tell their stories, so that future generations will know the extent of their sacrifice.
Already with the passage of time, 9/11 is fading, human nature being what it is, letting our memories soften with regard to tragic events such as this.
This should not happen nor should we allow it to...if we do not honor history as the saying goes we are doomed to repeat it.
The immoral events that occurred that day should stand the test of time and remained burned into our conscious memories as though engraved there by the hand of God.
Why remember? Two Thousand and Ninety-Six lives were lost, they became casualties in this war of terror...innocents lost to maniacal evil.
They need to be remembered, for someone to tell their stories, so that future generations will know the extent of their sacrifice.
Already with the passage of time, 9/11 is fading, human nature being what it is, letting our memories soften with regard to tragic events such as this.
This should not happen nor should we allow it to...if we do not honor history as the saying goes we are doomed to repeat it.
The immoral events that occurred that day should stand the test of time and remained burned into our conscious memories as though engraved there by the hand of God.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Negativy Sucks
Normally I try not to complain, I want to find good in people. I'm thankful that I am still alive after my ordeal last New Years. I sincerely want to avoid negative people for I believe they pull you down into their depths of self-pity like no one else can.
I want to greet each day with a smile on my face and joy in my heart.
That being said, I had the crappiest day ever! Why? Well, let me set the scenario for you....
Three days ago I said to my Mother, age 89, would she like me to cook a special meal for my Father's birthday? He turned 93 today. So, of course, she said yes. It was decided after speaking with Dad that I would make Chicken Cutlets, Mashed Potatoes, Gravy, Cauliflower & Broccoli with a cheese sauce, side salad, fresh Italian bread. Mom, who bakes very well, made a special dark chocolate cake with a berry filling and chocolate icing.
My sister and I shopped yesterday, and I cooked most of the day. Everything turned out really tasty...and we sat down to a nicely prepared table that Barb had set using her good china.
My hubby had come over earlier in the day and lent a hand with some of the fixings. My brother-in-law, Larry asked Joe if he could check out a broken door handle - luckily Joe was able to fix it.
The dinner went well, everyone enjoyed the meal and everyone complimented my sister and I on it.
Well, everyone was so full from the meal that we waited until after 8 PM to have the cake....Mom lit the cake, Barb asked Joe to take pictures as he had his camera with him.
As we are eating the cake, people were kidding around with each other. Barbara got targeted as a "bad" driver and was being ribbed by Larry, Joe and myself for some of her driving habits. Please understand we were not yelling nor being mean to Barbara....she does things like waiting for traffic to be clear for about three miles on each side before she will pull out of a shopping mall.
My father, for God knows what reason, slams his fork down...looks directly at Joe and says...."You have some nerve to talk about driving"..."You of ALL people" ...my poor husband looked blank...in 38 years of driving he has only had one ticket! He said "I don't know what you mean Charles?" So my father says "What about the station wagon I GAVE you?" Joe pissed by now says.."Oh, the one where the tranny fell out two weeks later??" Dad started to say more but by this time Joe was REALLY pissed so he grabbed his hat and headed for the door.
The upshot of this is that Joe said he will never step a foot back in this house...
At least that's how it stands right now. The main problem is that I am pissed
and I am very angry at my Father. He was rude, ill mannered and I don't care that he is 93 or 109...rude is rude. He took a really nice day, an enjoyable family and made everyone miserable.
So my question is this...why are old people so dam mean? Is it that they feel the approach of death and want to be as mean as they can so maybe the grim reaper will pass them by???
My sister Barb tends to calm me down....I'm glad she's here. But for right now I really regret planning anything for that old stinker.
Oh, I know I'll calm down eventually but please, please shoot me if I get like that......
I want to greet each day with a smile on my face and joy in my heart.
That being said, I had the crappiest day ever! Why? Well, let me set the scenario for you....
Three days ago I said to my Mother, age 89, would she like me to cook a special meal for my Father's birthday? He turned 93 today. So, of course, she said yes. It was decided after speaking with Dad that I would make Chicken Cutlets, Mashed Potatoes, Gravy, Cauliflower & Broccoli with a cheese sauce, side salad, fresh Italian bread. Mom, who bakes very well, made a special dark chocolate cake with a berry filling and chocolate icing.
My sister and I shopped yesterday, and I cooked most of the day. Everything turned out really tasty...and we sat down to a nicely prepared table that Barb had set using her good china.
My hubby had come over earlier in the day and lent a hand with some of the fixings. My brother-in-law, Larry asked Joe if he could check out a broken door handle - luckily Joe was able to fix it.
The dinner went well, everyone enjoyed the meal and everyone complimented my sister and I on it.
Well, everyone was so full from the meal that we waited until after 8 PM to have the cake....Mom lit the cake, Barb asked Joe to take pictures as he had his camera with him.
As we are eating the cake, people were kidding around with each other. Barbara got targeted as a "bad" driver and was being ribbed by Larry, Joe and myself for some of her driving habits. Please understand we were not yelling nor being mean to Barbara....she does things like waiting for traffic to be clear for about three miles on each side before she will pull out of a shopping mall.
My father, for God knows what reason, slams his fork down...looks directly at Joe and says...."You have some nerve to talk about driving"..."You of ALL people" ...my poor husband looked blank...in 38 years of driving he has only had one ticket! He said "I don't know what you mean Charles?" So my father says "What about the station wagon I GAVE you?" Joe pissed by now says.."Oh, the one where the tranny fell out two weeks later??" Dad started to say more but by this time Joe was REALLY pissed so he grabbed his hat and headed for the door.
The upshot of this is that Joe said he will never step a foot back in this house...
At least that's how it stands right now. The main problem is that I am pissed
and I am very angry at my Father. He was rude, ill mannered and I don't care that he is 93 or 109...rude is rude. He took a really nice day, an enjoyable family and made everyone miserable.
So my question is this...why are old people so dam mean? Is it that they feel the approach of death and want to be as mean as they can so maybe the grim reaper will pass them by???
My sister Barb tends to calm me down....I'm glad she's here. But for right now I really regret planning anything for that old stinker.
Oh, I know I'll calm down eventually but please, please shoot me if I get like that......
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