16 March 2015 ... my first entry? of the new year (come on) ... Liz' arrival ... meet the neighbor, Chris, finally ... call U of D parking authority, Wells Fargo debit card ...

So, here goes, after literally months of avoidance, I return to this blog and attempt, the day after, to begin a healthy process of recollection on a single day's activities, to gain some sort of perspective on this all-to-short human life. As I write this on St. Patrick's Day of 2015, a bright overcast day that will rise into the low 60s and as the grass has received a dosed of pre-emergent fertilizer from Nick, who knows Dancer and is greeted by her in the backyard as he takes the machine in rows and my darling

                                                   
                                                              Not Nick, not the front
                                                       yard and not the machine used.

therapy dog is not fearful, only attendant and loving as always, I know that this is a start, like my horoscope spoke of, a way to break out of the morass of inaction (Christine Shaw leads yoga at the YMCA as I type this and I am not there, again, to enjoy her healthy, physical pedagogy and spiritual enlightenment and to tell her how much I enjoyed the Delaware Symphony Concert where her group sang the accompaniment to opera selections ... loved her "Toreador"). 

At long last, I made the trip across the street and introduced myself to the "new" neighbor who moved in at the end of last year, yes, that's right, over 3 months ago. His name is Bill and he is the son of a DHS grad of '75, Cherie (?) Smith, who grew up in Limestone Acres. His wife -- this is 2nd marriage for both of them -- is Nicole and she is due in April with their first child, a boy, but he has a son from his previous marriage, a boy who has cerebral palsy and is wheelchair-bound and will start school next year. The ebullient, singing child in the front yard, on occasion, is Avah, and their loving dog (name I can't recall). She came over and asked to ride her bike around the block. She is forthright, outgoing and just a dear.

29 July 2014: Tuesday ... Mom's 83rd birthday ... Christine's lesson of patience in yoga ... Nick's call ... NV's call ... Uncle Nick's call ... flowers from Acme ... a herd of deer by JDHS

The array of flowers and cards for Mom's birthday.


Mom poses behind orchids sent by Doug. 

It is so easy to break out of a routine and settle back into lethargy and renew that sense of incompetence. Yet, to learn patience -- represented so aptly by breathing in yoga and the focus of Christine's class this morning -- is to be able to take the time, each day, to do a little of a variety of activities that activate the mind and spirit, much like this writing, just a few minutes, after a much needed walk around JDHS and a circle of the quarter mile on the track with Dancer outside of the fence and not inside the track and the football field, where we marched over 40 years ago and sat in the stands playing our fight songs for the team. 

15 June 2014: Sunday ... well of replenishment ... emptying our lives ... Father's Day for the fatherless ... Nick from Bonaroo & Jack White ... walk along Pike Creek CC o'ergrown paths ...

Arrived at Church this morning right at 10:30 a.m. only to find that the choir was performing. I walked back behind the piano and sat next to Gordon. Did not have my music but I sang and it went surprisingly well. We did a piece, center stage that was mostly a cappella that was stunning in its beauty. Greg had to comment afterward and I spoke to Esther Steffens, who was familiar and appreciative of the composer (who I was unfamiliar with) but the melody was simple and utterly gorgeous in its composition, much like the Linz Symphony (which is on an entirely different exalted plain), composed in 4 days by Mozart. But the wonders of music, whether in the town of Linz well over 200 years ago or in a small UU congregation in the Pike Creek Valley is amazing in its reach and its breadth and its ability to move people. Nick felt the same way about the performer pictured below, who he saw at Bonaroo just the other evening. He told me about it today in his Father's Day call with such compelling passion. He truly loves music and it is so good to see that in him, passed from my father to me and now to him. Three generations.  


Nick's favorite performer, Jack White and his band, who he heard at Bonaroo (Nick's 4th visit to the iconic music festival in Manchester, Tennessee), and called it the best performance he'd ever seen by an artist. Two-and-a-half hours of nonstop playing, a fantastic guitarist who has a jazz mentality and plays freely with his band members, who surround him.


Where have all the mowers gone? Well, Pike Creek Golf Club is closed and now its cart path
provides a stellar walking trail through a beautiful landscape and a gurgling Pike Creek.
— with Dancer in Pike Creek Valley, DE.
Dancer's backyard roommate (yard mate, back mate?) appears to be a "Gray Catbird". It's a lovely creature but I have yet to identify its distinctive "catty mew" vocal sound. Stay tuned ... really. 

Got calls from Nick, first, from Bonaroo, where he'll see Elton John tonight and leave for home tomorrow, and then Lindsay later in the afternoon. 

10 June 2014: Tuesday ... meet Vinciann, Sharon in Core Challenge ... exercise next to Ruth Ann ... meet Angela ... stellar young man with Commerce Energy, Nick Moretti ...

Nick Moretti, 24, was representing this company, a buyer of energy and seller through the network owned by Delmarva, a complicated setup where a monopoly was averted and there are a number of suppliers but only one company with the infrastructure to distribute said energy. I signed up for Commerce and they promise a set amount, which I need to call when I get my letter from Delmarva to lock in that price for five years. It is also "green energy" and does not, according to Nick, produce any global warming carbon in its production, that means solar and wind (I think). 

15 May 2014: Thursday ... Tina from China (workout BodyVive) ... Carol the panda expert & National Zoo lover (Bao-Bao cam) ... Nick at work (photo by David Keesee) ... Mom sends text to Doug ...

Nick at work, happily, at The Soul Bar, photographed
by David Keesee, who's stopping by the place a couple of times a week.


Bao Bao, panda at the National Zoo.
http://nationalzoo.si.edu/animals/webcams/giant-panda.cfm

30 July 2013: Tuesday ... the day of Thunder's death and his burial the next morning in Arthur's field ...

July 30, 2013 is the 211^st day of the year 2013 in the Gregorian calendar. There are 154 days remaining until the end of this year. The day of the week is Tuesday.
Thunder died tonight under my roof in the living room lying on my green quilt. Nick and Lexi had visited not one hour before and I, when Nick left for work, watched Monk on tv while our family pet, loyal and devoted and never demanding, breathed his last. Earlier i had stroked his beautiful brindle-colored fur while he inspired deeply. I should have known the death pattern and that he was close. Thank goodness Nick saw to coming over after work. We'd planned to meet in the morning and help one another to get him to the Hammond Hills Vet Hospital. Instead, we took shovels and Thunder's body, which we placed in the back of the Dodge Neon and transported it into the tall brush, near the abandoned turkey stand, to a portion of Arthur's field on this mid-Saturday morning and buried him in the moist soil, each taking turns to reach the desired depth of about 4 feet. It was hot and it took about an hour and we were caked in sweat and clay filled the soles of our shoes. We said a few words for our beloved Thunder and then covered the wrapped body.

15 December 2013: Sunday ... some overcast as 7 days approach since his passing, the snow came yesterday afternoon ... family headed to BWI ...

14 December 2013: Saturday ... the day of dad's funeral visitation at Mealey Funeral Home and afterward home reception ...

Nick had a good night's rest in the bed that six days earlier held his dying grandfather. It was a proper cycle of birth and death, the grandson moves on, the grandfather departs.
The church crochets these prayer blankets for the ailing. Susan presented one to mom this visitation morning as Stacy worked on touching up her hair.


Dad's portrait at the visitation with his trademark black-rimmed glasses.


Bob Papp, who is a volunteer EMT, helped change out the oxygen tank for mom at the visitation. As you can see by her exhausted expression, the event really took a lot out of her but the son of Mimi and Alex (he still lives in his family home on Yale Road and commutes to Philly to work, a 90-minute effort), like so many who knew and loved my father, gave of themselves to share on this day that threatened snowfall. It came after the event.


Laura Graziano Farabaugh, who knew mom so well from her father's gatherings on the holidays when she was a little girl, has a special bond with my parents as can be seen in this connected gaze between the loved ones. She plans to come by some time with kids over their school vacation this holiday.

Didn't spend enough time with my best buddies but we got together for a portrait at the command of Kathy Okarski. We followed her orders, willingly. At least Bob and I did. Ronnie was non-committal and mouthy.

Friends made the visitation and I was so grateful for my mother and myself,
they are such good people. We will get together this Thursday for a meal at Bob and Alice's. (At this addition to this page, on 12 January 2014, I have not heard from them other than a cursory e-mail from Bob linking me to his most recent published law article ... "Interest-Convergence and the Disability Paradox:
An Account of the Racial Disparities in Disability Determinations under the SSA and IDEA".




The grands of Dr. Rudolph Nyhoff were treated to dinner by their uncle and father, Dr. Douglas Alan Nyhoff: Great meal and even greater camaraderie of family at the Hartefeld Restaurant, on the grounds of the same-named golf course, in Avondale, Pennsylvania, on a chilly and rainy Saturday night, 14 December 2013, on the day of Dr. Rudolph Nyhoff's funeral visitation. It was chilly and wet evening which epitomized the main event of the day but not the family togetherness around the dinner table. That was bright and sanguine.
It was a "blessing" to have my family at the visitation. I do not know the taker of this photograph. It was not I, but having Susan and the children at the visitation was a wonderful gift and a joy. I believe they were happy to be there and experiencing the celebration of their grandfather's life. 

9 December 2013: Monday ... Doug on the road ... preparing for visitation and a reception at home ... kids & Susan flying into Baltimore ... first full day without dad

I shoveled all the walkways and the driveway and cleared the good 4' of snow off the Honda and drove to Mealey Funeral Home, around the corner, after a call from Jim Keith, the director who arranged dad's funeral back in October during a family meeting in mom's room, that the cremation form needed my signature. Chick Mealey, owner, showed me around. They've been there since 1972 and I'd never, of course, been in the business. They were decorating for the Christmas season. Chick's son was putting up a tree. I also looked at the many cremain urns, such choice, brought a brochure home for Doug to look at.

Timeless Turquoise Raku Ceramic Cremation Urn

The body is at the crematory. Doug (who just phoned with a query about what road to take outside D.C. -- follow signs for 95 to NY and Baltimore we decided), driving up from Atlanta since early morning (had to stop and dose, much like dad did all those years ago in that cross-country drive home from Yellowstone -- shower at a truck stop and sleep in the car for a few hours, how he did it, I do not know), does not want to see dad's body and I don't either. It's just a body. It is not him. His life essence is gone but still present in a handkerchief, which, when mentioned to Susan in a phone call this morning, brought tears cascading down my cheeks. Those darn smells get me.

So much happening on this first day of the rest of my life without my father, living with my mother, who is so ill, but I just got off the phone (1:02 p.m.) with Susan, who has booked a flight, with Nick, from Charlotte to Baltimore for $240.00 on Friday night. They (Nick and Lindsay and their mom) will rent a car because Lindsay will also be flying into Baltimore from Nashville. Unfortunately, they'll only be able to stay two nights, leaving very early Sunday morning for an am flight back to Charlotte, I gather. I think Lindsay can stay later but I'm not sure, I thought she told me she'd be leaving for a Sunday pm flight. WE shall see, but nonetheless, the myriad pieces, these ones so important, are falling together.

Baltimore/Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport

 At the close of this first day of the rest of my life without my father, I saw that Brenda Dillon, the "ol Southern gal filled with empathy" had texted me about the support of FB and just asked, simply: "How are you doing tonight?" (Wow, is that empathy or what and I wrote, after coming to bed and having slept, blissfully and soundly, through an overtime period and shootout between the Flyers and the Ottawa Senators, won by the Canadian team, 5-4, on his old bed, the one he died in just 28 hours earlier, unmade, just the mattress and head resting on one of the 4 pillows he would place carefully against the wall after making his bed):
Empathy ... big word, larger feeling, colossal effect. I'm making it through that first day. Just walked in his old slippers, fit snuggly, and dosed through a close hockey game on the mattress of his unmade bed in the room he died. I slept like a baby, which I was in his arms 57 years ago.

What am I thankful for today?

1. Doug being here safe and sound on a 13-hour trip begun in the early morning.
2. For talking to Susan and crying as I held dad's handkerchief in my hand and the working out her visit with our children this Saturday (they will fly into Baltimore on Friday evening and rent a car, perhaps together, I am unsure of that at present).
3. Friends like Lois Greef who visited with slippers for mom because her feet are swollen and hurting.
4. Professionals like the people at Mealey Funeral Home, in particular the president, Charles "Chick" Mealey, who had me sign the cremation form today and showed me various types of urns for dad's ashes.
5. For Bachetti's and the food they can put together for our planned reception at our home after visitation this Saturday at Mealey's at the intersection of Limestone and Milltown Roads.
6. For friends and family.
7. For the snug, perfect feel of dad's slippers on my feet and the opportunity to type this at the computer but missing his presence but knowing that he is all around me.
8. Good night dad and wherever you are, know that you are loved and missed by so many. Safe travels.
9. Just helped mom up from the floor (she called to me) where she'd fallen ten minutes earlier from her bed. It is after midnight and I am waking up as I type this after having gone comatose while watching the Flyers/Senators hockey game. She was face down and curled up like a wrestler on the mat and unable to get up. We worked to get her up and more secure on the bed. Turned up the heating pad and tucked the blanket up around her neck. She apologized and I said she didn't need to. I'm amazed it has not happened before. I had just brought her a cup of tapioca pudding which she'd eaten. Dad ate the vanilla pudding, probably the last thing he ate on this earth and he enjoyed it. Portable, small and tasty. 

6 October 2013: Sunday, John Webers visits, Nick & Granny on way to Delaware ...

http://www.auburnheights.org/
Auburn Heights Mansion or Marshall Steam Museum is where Goose and I went, thanks to the largesse of volunteer ticket taker, one Kathy (Webers) Beck. What a terrific find. Had no idea that such a wondrous place existed of a fabled mansion and all those steam cars, one of the largest collections in the world, and we got to mean the only son, 89 years young, who still works on the place 3-4 hours a day with the engines and who greeted us, unaffectedly and charmingly, on the 2nd floor of his boyhood home, where he grew up playing with 3 cousins, same age, who were like his siblings. 

Mom gets a rehearsed kiss from Goose (aka, John Webers) after I missed

the initial smooch. 

Gooser dropped by to see his favorite older couple, my parents

during a visit to Delaware to see his sister and his father, who is

in a care home and does not recognize him. 

Goose posing with his favorite older couple, my mother and father, in the former's bedroom on the day of his visit, Sunday, October 6, 2013. He is visiting his sister and also his father, who is in a care facility and does not recognize him, although he does know Kathy, who sees him far more often and can get him to shower, which he hates, before going to Mass on Saturday evening.

This is the photo blog for one John de Gooser Webers with this pic from Steamin' Days at the Marshall Museum and Auburn Heights Preserve for the largest collection of Stanley Steamer automobiles and of course, this miniature train:

While Goose and I were at the Mansion in Auburn Heights, Nick was driving Granny north to Delaware to be with her daughter Jan (she will stay at John's place, the old childhood home of the Thisell's when they moved to Newark 50 some odd years ago), and they arrived when I called Mom and she said they were pulling up to the house as we spoke. What timing! It was about 8 p.m. and the traffic jams in Richmond and D.C. really slowed them down, but they got here, safe and sound and I grabbed this photo, a true grabber of the initial hug of Mom to grandson: