The Road Home

 I just can't understand some things.  I have never been in denial of Jimi's poor health.  When he made the decision to stop trying to stay one step ahead of three failing organs, I did not blame him one iota.  With that said, I knew, due to things allowed to go at their own pace, platelets falling, and toxins that would build at warp speed, that we would have precious little time to provide him with just a tiny slice of what he loved, his home, his old shows, something good to eat.  Hospital bureaucracy took twelve hours of that for not a single good reason.  Already things are escalating and he hasn't really been awake since last night.  

And, as is in keeping with the family pattern, a snafu with Hospice left four hours in the middle of the night not knowing what to do. 

Reminds me of that song-

The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows where
But I'm strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We'll get there
For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

This road has been long. 

I was telling Aunt Tish- 

You think you are yourself. But I am not myself. I am an amalgamation of my circle of people. 

I will be shattered by this loss, that is to be expected,  but I  find that the pieces never go back, the puzzle is never again complete with that piece of me gone.  So I know the drill. I will make do with the pieces that have left, but it never feels right again.

 Jimi  knew me and I knew him and I don't think we had too many other people who did.  

I remember when Adam was gone one summer, and it was a family gathering. I was teary and I said I just couldn't help it, it didn't seem right to have all of us and Adam not there.  Someone  loudly made some silly remark, but Jimi just go up out of his seat, walked around the bar, put his arm around me and stood there while I finished what I was doing.

And him standing outside of labor and delivery with a cold coke

Not letting Lisa buy any lotions for a baby gift, because I have sensitive skin and he was afraid the baby would too.

All those  calendars he made me. 

And keeping Conner that summer, when fatigued by the chemo because he wanted  me to feel good about childcare. 

Picking all the marshmallows out of Frosted Lucky Charms for Conner

And tearing down my kitchen wall so I could be a part of the people in front of the TV when I cooked for days.

Saving all that stuff for my students and them loving his cast off's. 

Playing Santa Claus to an adoring audience. 

Always toting me some find from the Goodwill, or a trash pile he found

Loving the same music

Always waiting at meals until everyone was served. 

Always loving everything I cooked for him.

 

He is a strange and unusual bird and there is no replacing him.