The age where you finally get to drive.
Of course, with this Gramerly, he has ever been in the driver's seat.
The memory of this day is so clear, like it was yesterday. We were playing in the garden when he heard his Pap pull in and stop to get the mail. He ran, like every time, to meet him and drive the truck on to the house. My little dirt dauber. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
We shared so very many adventures.
I mean seriously, could you resist this face.
He's always loved to fish. We spent hundreds of hours at the creek, doing what a friend termed "bobbering".
He's had the police called on him several times for fishing in the neighborhood lake. A friend at school makes tee shirts, so I had this made for him.
I hope he has many, many more happy birthdays.
In Jimi news, we sadly returned to the hospital today in the same fashion as three weeks ago.
It seems they just can't get treatment, on which his life depends, kidney and liver, to mesh.
Again, I had to leave him unable to press a call button or get a drink.
I am, on one hand, too sad to hold up my own head, on the other hand, life goes on in this Covid craziness doesn't it?
I would think I would become resigned to our medical system, to watching people that I love fiercely, leave me, one part at a time, until only memories remain. Yet, the fear, angst and heartbreak never gets one bit easier.
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