Well Another Sad One

It will be a different kind of sad, but sad just the same.

 

When I was small and had to go somewhere special, my mom would dress me in nice pants a shirt (and tie) and slick my hair down to make me presentable. Can you be presentable if you pick your nose and hide it behind your knee? I’m going to say kid presentable. As I aged and selected my own clothes, Jeans with a cool belt and a t-shirt with a socially significant message was high fashion. I do mean high. Those fashion decisions lasted for many years and I still feel like that is the real me. Even my wedding found me dressed in a costume, we were going for 1880’s look.

 

I worked in a warehouse as a shipper/receiver for a few years and other than Christmas parties where a nice pair of pants and a shirt and or sweater was perfectly acceptable attire, I got away with my go to jeans and a t-shirt. Then I was hired by the Post Office and in their wisdom they provided me with four seasons of clothing every year for my entire career. I never had the anguish of deciding what to wear every day, it was uniform shirt, uniform pants, blue tie, jacket, peaked hat, black, lace up leather shoes  and of course a smile for the customers (optional). Life was good!

 

That was my clothing life. Well, there were a few bumps along the way. Sometimes we were invited to a wedding, but my usual nice pants and nice shirt worked. I was just a friend or distant relative. Those years when we went to church so the kids would know what they were objecting to and could honestly say that they went to church for a number of mind numbing years, my standard goodish clothes worked.

 

There have been the weddings of my children when “good enough” just wasn’t good enough. I had to buy a suit. I found that the cheap me found paying a lot of money for something I would wear once or perhaps twice if you count my funeral was silly. I wanted everyone to be happy so I bought a suit, shirt, jacket and uncomfortable shoes. Everyone was happy except for me. But, the next time a wedding rolled around I had a suit. I had a suit that no longer fit me that is. Yep, I had to buy another suit.

 

I don’t look good in a suit. Well, I don’t look like me in a suit and I don’t feel like me either. Sometimes you just have to look like someone else to make everyone else happy. The last suit I bought was for Maegan’s wedding and although I didn’t look very good, she looked like an angel. I felt that I didn’t let here down too much.

 

This weekend or should I say Monday coming I will be attending the funeral of Louise’s aunt. Yesterday I organized the clothes I would wear and managed to button up the pants (barely) and found that the shirt actually fit okay…ish.  I think that suit pants, a nice shirt and tie will be good enough for a summer funeral in Saskatchewan. The only thing I don’t have is a nice black belt. The belts I have are well worn and go with jeans very well but not with dress pants. I had to go searching for a belt. During my search, I found a garment bag downstairs that had my last wedding suit in it and wonder of wonders, everything fit! There was even a pristine black belt and shirts that go with the suit. Fuck Yeah!!!!

 

I am ready for the funeral and no nice pants and shirt for me, I will be wearing a somber looking suit that says “This guy may look like a loser, but isn’t it a nice suit?” Well, today Louise was talking to her cousin and was told that we should wear casual  dress. Nice pants and a nice shirt. But…but…but…but…

 

Oh well, at least I will be comfortable. Well unless everyone else didn’t get the dress casual message. I have a feeling that no matter what happens I won’t fit in. I should have become a rock star. Michael Jackson was always wearing a uniform.

Here’s a Happy One

For the past year and a half we have been keeping a running total of the deaths due to Covid. Thankfully, for the most part I have been untouched. Up until a few months ago I didn’t even know anyone that had been sick, other than a few celebrities and the odd politician and frankly I wouldn’t be upset to see some politicians die a horrible death. So far, my hated few politicians are frustratingly healthy. I live to dream though.

 

While all of this Covid nonsense has been afflicting the world, our regular tragic deaths have continued. Somewhat less traffic deaths than normal and my province reported zero flu deaths this year, probably because we have been washing our hands on a regular basis, keeping away from other people and wearing masks. I for one will keep following protocol in the future. I didn’t get sick once this winter. Old age keeps creeping up on us, a lifetime of poor eating habits cause clogged arteries and our poor lungs have been dealing with any number of horrible things in the air. Life goes on, or is that death will out.

 

My wife’s cousin is going through a terrible time with her aging mother. She has had to move into a care facility and can no longer do the things she has done her entire life. Her body just won’t follow the brain’s orders any longer. She wakes up every morning being disappointed that she didn’t die in her sleep. There were times I wished the same thing at the Post Office, but I always knew that there would be better days ahead. She doesn’t have that luxury.

 

Recently a blood clot was detected and it had to be surgically removed. It was a dangerous procedure and there was a very good chance that she wouldn’t make it, but the risk had to be taken. Well, the operation was a success but she was terribly disappointed that she didn’t die. The last we heard, she has stopped eating and drinking and I suspect that the care providers are making her transition easier for her. It is a shame that we can’t help ease our loved ones into the next world as we do our pets, it would be kinder and much more humane.

 

My mom suffered a severe stroke and I had to make the difficult decision to let her go. The hospital stopped feeding and watering her but provided her with morphine to ease the pain. It took seven heart wrenching days for her to pass and I wondered if I had made the correct choice. I still wonder. 

 

If there is a God and a Heaven, I may show up at the Pearly Gates and be denied entry because I killed my mother. I hope not, because I have a few things that I would like to talk to God about…