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Today in My History

2000:  Back to Home Base
2001:  I'm in the Wrong Job
2002:  Walk a Mile in My Shoes
2003:  Back to the Bush
2004:  Black Holes

Is There a Black Cloud Out There?
2006: Leave Off the Mascara
2007: Families
The Cousins Day that Wasn't
2009:  Transition

Tilly No-Body

Books Read in 2010
Updated: 10/17

Recipes for Cousins Day Drinks
(updated 3/17/10)


When a Siren sounds from Bev Sykes on Vimeo.

...and on You Tube

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Half Moon Bay & Michael Connelly

The Washington, DC pictures

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Airy Persiflage

Three Good Things

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24 October 2010

My brain is wrapped around the fragility of life once again. 

It started the other night, when we had dinner with friends from the Pinata group.  It was a great evening, made even better because it was a celebration of one of us being in good health, recent fears to the contrary.  She was rushed to emergency about a month ago.   She had been very lethargic and her heart rate went down to 20 beats/min.  She is doing much better with a pacemaker installed and feels much better.

The nice thing about knowing people most of your life (we figure about 50 years for this group) is that there is no awkwardness in discussing something like this.  I had no qualms about asking if she could feel the pacemaker working (she can) and in asking all sorts of personal questions.

A couple of days ago, I had a note about a good friend who went to his doctor for some health issues, including breathing problems.  They admitted him to the hospital and found two blood clots in his lung.  It is apparently part of the lymphoma he lives with (I'm not sure if I knew that he had lymphoma, a condition which killed my good friend and former teacher).  Anyway, he reports that "they found the problem and are fixing it."  But I don't like it when friends I care about have serious problems like this.

This morning we attended the memorial service for a Davis friend who died a month ago.  He was in his late 80s and had lived with his wife in a convalescent home for several years.  They were both the heart and soul of the Davis Comic Opera Company for many years.  In truth, I knew his wife better than I knew him but the two were devoted.  At the memorial, she seemed confused and unable to recognize people she'd known for many years.  It was very sad to see her.

I didn't stay for the whole service.  I had to leave at noon to pick up the dogs and take them to Petco.  They have reached the point where they are always excited when they head to the car, and always upset when I walk off and leave them in a cage.  They are both back home again, of course, though the girl who sat with them in the cage did say that someone showed an interest in Shiloh.  Other than the lady who backed out of adopting Polly, I dont think that in the nearly 11 months she has been here anybody has shown a serious interest in her.  Of course if she would stop hiding in the back of the cage, things might go better for her.

After I dropped the dogs off, I went back to the memorial service, where I saw lots of people I hadn't seen in a very long time.  People who are older looking, greyer, more stooped, and shakier, some with fewer teeth than I remember.   Not surprising, given how infrequently we see any of these people, who are all our best friends in Davis.  We have reached an age where it is funerals that bring us together.  (Of course we are unchanged!)

One offshoot of the memorial is that we are having brunch tomorrow with old friends whom we have not seen in a very long time.  It will be fun catching up.

Next weekend is a memorial for the woman who recently ended her life.   That is also going to be an emotional event.

In the "This day in my history" list for yesterday, was the story of the day when Peggy, Diane and I went to Mt. St. Helen's. 

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It had been such a funny, fun day that I wished I could talk with Diane about it again.  But of course she is dead.  I did the next best thing and sent a link to the entry to her daughter, but it's not the same.  I miss her more than I ever thought I would.

Have I reached an age where life all boils down to funerals and "organ recitals," hearing about who is sick, who had what replaced, who just had a stroke, etc., etc.  I suppose that this is a stage that we all go through and eventually get to the other side, where my mother is, when most of your best friends -- if you live long enough -- are already dead, so you go to fewer funerals.

There are delightfully surprising perks, however.  I just "found" a friend I have not heard from in about 15 years.  He just disappeared and all of my googling attempts, all of my attempts to check with mutual friends have been for naught.  He has a name that is common enough and, not having his address, it as impossible to find him.  None of his other friends heard from him either.  But there he is.  Big as life on Facebook, friend of a mutual friend whom he contacted six months ago.  I can hardly wait to get caught up.

Life.  It's a new era that I'm in the middle of and I don't see it changing much any time soon.


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My two granddaughters



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