Where are you? Are you ok?

-- helen (waiting@by.the.schoolroom.door), May 05, 2003

Answers

Helen, if Lon's been having kidney stones, he'll be in quite a lot of pain. And he may be on the road. Or he may just be feeling uncommunicative at the moment. Or he may be missing his fan club :-) Maybe if we keep talking about him, he'll speak up to defend himself ;-)

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), May 07, 2003.

Helen, and all the friends here,

I've been putting this off for quite a while, but I think I should share something with you all.

I did not say much about it on the forum, but Kit has been having some problems. Last summer when I took him for tests, I was afraid he had a urinary blockage or some such. He would go into the bathroom and stay for hours, just sitting like he forgot why he was there. All the tests came out negative, and then I really started to get worried. Down Syndrome people almost always develop plaque in their brains around age 30, which leads to an Alzheimer's-like dementia.

Well, Kit will be 27 in May, and I'm afraid he's showing early signs of Alzheimer's. One week in Febuary, he wet his pants three times, while just sitting watching TV, not 10 feet from the bathroom. He seemed bewildered by it each time, and didn't even try to change his clothes. I can never remember Kit wetting himself since he was in diapers. For months now, I have had to feed him quite a lot. He will pick up something like a french fry, look at me, set it down, pick it up, look at me, set it down, etc, until I reach across and put it in his mouth. It's like he has forgotten what to do with food.

I often have to help him take a shower now, and tell him many times to "get dressed", "put on your socks", "put on your shoes", and so on. I have never had to tell him more than once to get dressed, and he has always done fine with his personal hygiene. I am determined to fight this as much as I can, and am trying to take him out more, and make him do things for himself. All the meds I have found have warnings about heart rhythms, retinas, and other stuff I hate to chance.

Needless to say, the idea of dementia taking him away from me scares me to death. You know how I think about him, and he has been my constant companion for so many years, I almost can't talk about this. It's just breaking my heart on a daily basis.

So, anyway, we may not be taking any long trips this summer. I'm going to try to get lasic surgery for his one seeing eye, and maybe start a bowling league of his friends whom he sees very little nowadays. Just be thinking of him, and I'll try to keep you updated.

Lonnie

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), May 08, 2003.

Wow, Lon. We were (and are) concerned for you, and for Kit as well. Please know that some extra prayers will be headed your way.

-- Rob (sonofdust@yahoo.com), May 08, 2003.

Lon I'm so sorry that you are having such a worrying time. I'm not good with words, so I'll just send you and Kit hugs from faraway.

-- Carol (c@oz.com), May 08, 2003.

Not much to say, just lots of tears. :-(

((((((((((Lonnie))))))))))

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), May 08, 2003.

(((Lon))) (((Kit)))

I was afraid it might be about Kit. We all love you and Kit and the rest of your family that you have always shared with us.

-- helen (holding@you.holding.him), May 08, 2003.

Dear Lon,

Thank you so much for sharing. I know only too well, how the physical and mental changes of a loved one can change your life. Especially when it is your best buddy. But I also know you have so much love in your heart that you will make the best decisions you can. Please know that there are those of uw here who will be praying and wishing and hoping, that you continue to have your best buddy for a long, long time. Know too, that the love for your son that you have shared in your stories, we carry in our hearts, and that we lift you both up, that you may receive the blessings of the universe, as they are given to you and, us, as you share them.

Thank you for being such a wonderful father Lon! Kit loves you, and what else can you ask for? We do too. If there is anything I can do, or any of us for that matter, please do not hesitate to ask. I'll be keeping you both in my prayers. Do let us know how things are going, when you have time. And know you are both loved!

Blessings to you both kind friend!

-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), May 09, 2003.

((((Lon)))) I can't (and don't want to!) imagine the kind of pain you're in. You know my prayers are with you, Kit and your family.

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), May 11, 2003.

Lon,

I remember when my own lay on a hospital gurney with major brain injury, the question in my mind was not "will my baby live?" -- it was "will my baby remember love?"

I think they do. I have to believe they do.

-- helen (loving@you.all), May 11, 2003.

Good luck guys. Wish we (up in the hills here) could do more for you down there by the bayou, but our prayers are headed your way.

-- Robert A. Cook, PE (wondering@whats.Lonupto), May 11, 2003.

What can I say? I've read and re-read these answers over and over for the last few days, and yet there is no way words can express how I've come to feel about each of you here. Kit is actually doing a little better lately, but still has unexplained lapses. Two days ago, I sent him out to the hot tub, then went to check on him a half-hour later. He was just standing there, stark naked, staring at the water and mooning the neighborhood. Luckily, the nieghborhood consists of a couple of squirrels and assorted Jays, mocking birds and Cardinals.

One more request, if I may. Yesterday, my brother was to bring Mom down here for Mother's day, but on her way to the car, she slipped and fell. Nothing broken, but today one lung has filled and she has a possible blood clot in her left leg. She's ninety years old now, so this could be very serious. Kit and I leave in a few minutes to go up there. Please be thinking of us.

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), May 12, 2003.

Poor thing! I will pray for your mom, Lon, and that you and Kit have a safe trip.

My dad had a stent put into one of his arteries on Wednesday. The surgery went really well, but he started having pain on Saturday and shortness of breath again. He's on his way back to the doctor this morning. :-( I would appreciate any prayers on his behalf.

I hope all of the moms here had a Happy Mother's Day!

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), May 12, 2003.

thinking of all of you ...

-- helen (when@it.rains.it.pours), May 12, 2003.

(((Lon))), (((Gayla)))!

My prayers are with you both and your families.

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), May 13, 2003.

Gayla and Lon. Thinking of you both and hoping for the best possible news of your Father and Mother.

Hugs and "Happy Birthday" (not sure which day in May) to Kit who has a special place in all our hearts.

-- Carol (c@oz.com), May 15, 2003.

(((((((((((((( lon and kit ))))))))))))))

i'm like carol....... not good with words, but can send PLENTY of hugs and prayers for you and kit and your mom, and gayla's dad as well

please let us know how both of your parents are doing

and lon, give kit a BIG HUG for me please!!

-- mebs (prayers@going.up), May 15, 2003.

Thanks, you guys! (((((FRLians)))))

My dad is improving. The doctor gave him new blood pressure medication and 'beta-blockers' to slow down his heart rate. His blood pressure is still a little erratic, but he's got more strength and feels better.

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), May 16, 2003.

I'm glad your Dad is doing better Gayla and I hope it's not too long before he feels like his old self again.

-- Carol (c@oz.com), May 18, 2003.

Lon, your mom has been in my heartfelt prayers, and I am hoping she has improved remarkably since last you posted. Hope Kit just had a bump in the road, that passed. Please let us know when you have time and energy. You know we all hold him dear~

That's great news Gayla, that your dad is doing better! He too has been in my prayers.

-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), May 18, 2003.

Lon, we continue to pray for you and yours - Kit, your mother and all the rest of your family. You've been having a difficult time of it for a long time :-(

Gayla, glad your dad is better, and Crystal too! We'll keep praying for a miracle (and that you can make it to Washington, very selfishly, might I add).

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), May 19, 2003.

I just got in from seven days of staying around the clock in my mother's hospital room. The hospital is 3 hours from here, and my brother had to leave town for a while, so I had it by myself. Kit stayed here and was cared for by his brothers.

My mother had fluid buildup which collapsed one lung, but which we drained on Wednesday, giving her some relief. As it turns out, she has cancer in both lungs (and probably elsewhere) which is causing the fluid. She continued to have respiratory distress, sometimes severe, which broke my heart to see her struggle and be in paniced confusion. Yesterday, she had a sudden acute stroke and lapsed into a coma.

My brother returned today, and I came home for a night or two. I think seven nights of sleeping(?) in a chair may have shortened my life considerably. On the third night, I looked at the lable on the chair, and it said, "Inquisition implement and furniture company".

However, I am so grateful for the week. My mom has lived up there for years now, and I got to see her very infrequently. This week, I had the chance to re-establish our relationship. I had hundreds of opportunities to hold her hand, smooth her hair, soothe her pain. We spent evenings in conversation, remembering old friends and shared experiences. I became accustomed to touching her skin again, to looking in her eyes, to telling her that I loved her. It afforded me a well of emotion to draw on this morning, when I had to kiss her forehead and tell her it was all right for her to go, she has done her earthly work, she has left us all better for her being here.

I will return on wednesday, after picking up my other brother at the airport. I hope she has been able to depart by then. She always was an adventurer. My father died when I was fairly young, and she raised me alone on our little place out among the ranches of central Texas. When I left for college, she left also. At 53, she learned to swim, to paddle a canoe, and volunteered to teach school in the highlands of New Guinea, where she lived in a grass hut for 12 years.

Yesteday morning she asked me to read my poems to her. She always liked poetry, and I remember well, she and I laughing over the rhymes and puns of Ogden Nash. So, after all the other stuff, I read her one I had just written in the room, about hospital food. She giggled and declared me a writer after all.

There's a bug in my lemon Jello. Dead, imoblie, incased, in shimmering yellow, like fine Baltic amber with it's inclusions of insect or pollen, making jewelry of ancient saps Perhaps, in a million million years, a future Cartier in another life will hang this bug in Jello upon a golden chain and sell it to my wife.

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), May 19, 2003.

Sorry, I forgot about the format requirements for this forum. You'll have t figure out the lines of the jello poem.

I will keep you informed of Mom's condition, but as you may tell, I look forward to celebrating her reunion with friends and loved ones. Yesterday morning, she was looking intently at the blank wall, when suddenly she asked if this was Grace Methodist Church. We had belonged to that congregation 50 years ago, and she had many friends there.

I said, "what?", but it wasn't me she was asking. Keeping her eyes fixed on the wall, she said in a clear strong voice, "I was married many years ago, and am now a retired missionary."

I was speachless at her intense attention focused on the wall. She then turned to me and asked, "Do you all live here?" I said no, and asked if she knew me. In a second, she recognized me again, and came back to the room. But, for a minute there, I believe she was looking through a portal I could not see, where gathered friends and loved ones past. An hour later, her eyes closed, and she left me, the effort of breathing taking it's toll on the tissues of her brain. For an evening and a long night, I sat holding her hand and thought about the gift of a week together.

In this cold room

smell of antiseptic and

faded curtains

one of us is bored

to death, the other just

dying

A woman in a yellow sweatshirt

wins from Bob Barker

A NEW CAR! and I'm

suddenly wakened by the voice

of God, saying, " Dorothy G,

come on down".

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), May 19, 2003.

((((Lon)))) It's always hard to say good-bye to the ones we love. I hope your mom's distress is soon over.

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), May 19, 2003.

Our hearts, minds, and thoughts are with you, and your family.

Say our fairwells to her, since we cannot be there for you. With you.

-- Robert & Jean Cook (RobertCook@GA.herewith Lon), May 19, 2003.

Lon, your Mother sounds like a brave lady to start a whole new life at 53 years of age. I am very sorry she is nearing the end of her journey, but I'm thankful that you were able to have this time together, for her sake as well as yours.

-- Carol (c@oz.com), May 20, 2003.

Lon, we are all thinking of you and sending you our thoughts and prayers still.

-- (sonofdust@yahoo.con), May 20, 2003.

Dearest Lon, my heart truly goes out to you and yours. I just lost my beloved MIL two days ago, to this very disease. I know how difficult the struggle is. Much love and many prayers headed your way.

-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), May 20, 2003.

((((AB))))

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), May 20, 2003.

((((((((((Lon, Aunt Bee))))))))))

Now I'm in tears... Yes, Lon, you ARE a 'writer after all'. And a very good one! Those of us at FRL have been privileged to enjoy that fact for years. I know you will always treasure this time you got to spend with your mom.

I love hearing about those who are getting ready to 'pass' being able to look through a portal into another dimension. I'm convinced that physical death is NOT the end!

Thank you, Dorothy G. for giving us Lonnie! (((((Dorothy))))) You've made this world a richer place!

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), May 21, 2003.

Thank you so kindly Tricia and Gayla. Services are tomorrow.

Lon, your posts of how you spent the precious days with you mother last week, reminded me of another post by Ashton and Leska on the old TB, almost four years ago, to the day. You know well that hospice is their profession, and they did it so lovingly. I thought I would share it with you, in part, so you could know in your heart, you did all the right things. I saved the thread because of the list of music that Tricia asked for that day.

*************Just sitting in a chair bedside, holding their hand, still (don't try to soothe by stroking: still), every once in a while gently reminiscing about good times, shared delights, and listening attentively to whatever the person wants to say ... these mean a great deal.

....

A cool washcloth on the forehead.

...

What is so vital to realize is that a person is ALIVE completely until they are dead, and THEN they are even more ALIVE in another capacity. Respect, consideration, and acknowledgement of that vital holy life at every moment is essential. Even while in a "coma" the dying person is aware and can hear and sense everything. A good time to pray and send loving energy.

Ah, and then that transformation ... JG

xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx

May your mother's passage and transformation go easily for her. And may you know in your heart, that you did all the things that needed. You are a good son.

Love and prayers going out, to you and yours. Please keep up posted, and know you are in our thoughts, and hearts.

-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), May 21, 2003.

Oh, Lon! I'm glad you could be with her. (((Lon and family)))

-- helen (sorrow@shared.by.all), May 22, 2003.

lon brings me to tears
sometimes they are happy tears
always are they good


-- mebs (still@saying.prayers), May 26, 2003.

Hope the trip was a safe one.

-- Robert & Jean Cook (RobertCook@GA.herewith Lon), May 28, 2003.

Lon... Your mother was between two worlds. It's a gift our parents can give us to let us know what we think we know... is not all. My dad, prior to his passing, had several such "very real" encounters. Comforting in many ways. They continue to lead us.

Feeling your sadness and pain. Image-ing you surrounded by white light and many angelic healers.

Love, Diane

-- Diane J. Squire (sacredspaces@yahoo.com), May 30, 2003.

(((Lon))), still on my mind and in my prayers.

-- Tricia teh Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), May 30, 2003.

Hi everyone, and thanks for all the love, thoughts and prayers you have sent our way. It's terrific that Mebs and Diane stopped by.

My brother from Washington state is staying with us right now, so I've had little time to write, but here's an update.

Mom stabilized and has been moved to a nursing home. She is still unconcious and has no response to voices. She has, however, petted the little dog slightly with her left hand, so I believe she can hear us and has some understanding of her surroundings. On of us is still staying with her daily, but this may last for weeks or months. She was always in such good health; never sick, never even a headache her whole life. Now her vital signs are strong and they are giving her nurishment through a gastric tube, and a little medication patch for pain, which seems to be helping with the little seizures. We have no plans, but to be near, and wait.

Kit has shown some improvement lately. Maybe the irregular routine has been good for him. He has had to stay with his brothers some, and that means movies and extra outings, which is just the kind of stimulation I think he needs. He turned 26 (I said 27, but do YOU know all your kid's ages?) last Friday, and got a couple of Hulk T-shirts.

The big green Hulk has been his hero for as long as I can remember. He has all the old TV shows on tape, and a lot of the cartoon series as well (thank you ebay!) . I think he identifies with the Hulk, since they are both really good guys underneath - you know how the Hulk always rescues the baby or damsel in distress. And they both cannot talk, and are frustrated by their condition. Kit always agrees with me when I tell him he's the Hulk. He is absolutely waiting on pins and needles for the new movie to come out this summer!

Again, thank you all for sending your love and care. My mother is as comfortable as can be hoped for, and keep Kit in your thoughts as we try some new things for him this summer. Most of you have shared the loss of loved ones with us here, and you know what it means to have such a gathering of friends at your very fingertips. I look forward to other times, and other writing.

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), June 01, 2003.

Thanks for the update,

Robert & Jean

-- Robert & Jean Cook (RobertCook@GA.herewith Lon), June 02, 2003.

Prayers still coming your way Lon. For your mom's comfort, for Kit's increased acuity, and for your peace. Much love to you kind friend, you so deserve it! (Oh, and maybe a chocolate treat or three-did I tell you I make great hot fudge and homemade vanilla ice cream, from my grandmother's recipe?).

-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), June 03, 2003.

And did I tell you.... I've rasseled grown women to the ground for a hot fudge sundae!

-- Lon Frankenstien (evil@the.bayou), June 03, 2003.

(Pssssst!)

Today's Tuesday.

(Quit rasseling with the good-lookin' on-lookin' onlookers and fax me the fudge...)

-- Robert & Jean Cook (RobertCook@GA.herewith Lon), June 03, 2003.

I need chocolate too, Aunt Bee!

My 39 year old sister just had a heart attack. :-(

Heading back to Houston very soon...

Lon, I'm glad things are going a bit better with Kit. I saw the previews for The Hulk. Looks to be a wild, entertaining movie.

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), June 03, 2003.

Oh dear it must be the week for bad news. I do hope your sister is alright Gayla. That must of been an awful shock for you.

This morning I had a 'phone call to say that my sister-in-law has been admitted to hospital with a malignant growth on her eye. She had to have the eye removed, but fortunately all her other tests have come back clear. She is amazing. She had the operation Tuesday and it is now Wednesday night and my husband has just rung from the city to say she is sitting up in bed smiling and chatting and will be going home tomorrow. What spirit!

Lon don't feel bad about getting Kit's age wrong. You did have rather a lot on your mind. I've been known to get my kids ages wrong and my daughter says "Mum you gave birth to me, how could you possibly forget how old I am?" I bet she won't mind me getting it wrong once she turns 30yrs. though. BTW my son is only two weeks older than Kit.

-- Carol (c@oz.com), June 04, 2003.

(((Gayla))) (((Steve))) Hope all is okay with the extended family.

(((Carol))) Your sister in law must be some woman! Sure hope they got it all and that your sis is able to compensate for her blind side really well.

Oh, and Frankenstein, I thought brains were more your thing than chocolate?

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), June 09, 2003.

Just returned from a hard couple of days. My mother is still in a coma, slowly wasting and changing into a withered characture of herself. I sat and talked quietly to her for a couple of days, but she never showed any response. Kit is having a hard time understanding, so I may not take him again.

Kit and I were to stay at my brother's house for the week while they taveled to their son's. However, they only made it about an hour away and my brother became violently ill and they had to return. This is the brother I told you was diagnosed with cancer three years ago, when they told him not to expect to last 3 months. He has had a good run for all this time, with chemo and attitude keeping the tumors at bay. But, two weeks ago they discovered again that the chemo was no longer working and the cancer had once more become aggressive.

When he got sick yesterday, he vomited quite a lot of blood, and his doctor told us to get him in immediately for an MRI. It showed that he now has a spot or lesion on the left side of his brain. He is trying to get into an experimental treatment program in Dallas, but has to be chosen by a lottery this Thursday. There are eight places and sixty-four applicants. I think he is finally afraid, not of losing his life, but of first losing his mind.

When we returned today, I went about my normal business of answering mail, business calls, etc. About bedtime, I realized Kit was not in his room. I found him sitting on the side of my bed, just looking down at nothing. It was as if he forgot what he was doing completely, and just tuned out. My wife's away visiting for a week, and he knew he could sneak into bed with me, but he was just stalled out. I feel like I'm being stretched out pretty thin. I have delt with my mother's impending death, and can deal with my brother's as well. But I can't imagine dealing with losing Kit to his probablye fate. In fact, I can hardly type these words even here among friends.

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), June 11, 2003.

Oh Lon, I am so very sorry you are having such a terribly hard time lately. My heart just goes out to you.

-- Carol (c@oz.com), June 11, 2003.

Lon, here is a

from me to you. I'm SO sorry.

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), June 11, 2003.

((((((Lon)))))))

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), June 12, 2003.

Dorothy Ellen Gallas January 12, 1912 July 22, 2003

-----

We stopped to visit on Monday, and the three of us, all her sons, went to visit at the nursing home. We somehow knew she would leave soon, and each of us took an extra moment to be with her alone in the room. Glen and I bent near and whispered words we needed to say and hear. Richard, now slightly withered himself, and moving only with the aid of a new cane, could not bend over the bed. He clung to the bed rail and spoke loudly enough to be heard beyond the closed door, and we others unconsiously moved away in respect of their priviacy.

When the phone rang early the next morning, it had that peculiar sound which immediately announces it's message. She passed at peace in the night.

We shall lay her beside my father on Friday morning. Our thanks to each and all of you who blessed us with your thoughts and prayers.

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), July 23, 2003.

(((Lon)))

Words aren't sufficient. Please know that you are loved here.

-- helen (sorrow@for.you), July 23, 2003.

Thank you for letting us know.... Wish we could do more.

-- Robert & Jean Cook (RobertCook@GA.herewith Lon), July 23, 2003.

Dearest Lon,

I hope and pray you are at peace with her passing. I know she is no longer suffering, but know too, that there will be that vacancy in your life. Nothing is harder in life than having a parent pass. Know on Friday morning, those of us here, will be with you in spirit as well as prayer, asking for understanding, feeling the love you have in your hearts, and knowing what a very special lady she was in your lives. I hope you feel the love that you passed to each of us, through sharing your stories of your Mom, and sharing yourself with each of us, pass back to you because it is there.

Know that I for one, will be there in spirit, holding your hand, and praying for those that are left to remember her beauty of spirit that each of you still hold within. Know you are loved and held closely, as is your mom, for bringing you into this world, and sharing yourself with each of us.

Blessings and solace to you, in the days to come.

If there is anything any of us can do, please do not hesitate to ask. You know we will.

Much love to you Lon, and to those that mourn with you.

-- Aunt Bee (Aunt__Bee@hotmail.com), July 23, 2003.

Prayers and thoughts for you and yours, Dear Friend and Writing Buddy.

-- (sonofdust@prayers.thoughts), July 24, 2003.

(((((((((((((((((((((((( Lon )))))))))))))))))))))))))))

-- mebs (.@...), July 25, 2003.

(((((Lon))))) (((((Kit))))) I'm glad you got a last chance to say goodbye, I'm sorry you had to.

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), July 25, 2003.

My sincere condolences to you and your family Lon.

-- Carol (c@oz.com), July 25, 2003.

((((((((((((Lon))))))))))))))

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), July 26, 2003.

Thanks again to all of you. As I told several folks at the funeral, this was not a time of sadness. My mother lived a full life, and did many of the things she wanted to do. She was seldom ill - never had a headache in her life- and was spared from many of the tragedies that befall us during our lifetimes. She had outlived my father by 40 years, outlived most of her friends, lost track of many of her family. She would never have wanted to languish in a hospital bed, and I believe she would have consiously made the decision to go, if she could.

Kit has good days and not-so-good days. In a couple of weeks, we start our work routes, and will stay on the road mostly until after Christmas. It's hard for me, but I am making him do for himself whenever possible. Maybe the road trips will be good for him.

I posted a little about the recent trip to Colorado on another thread. Give me a little time and I'm sure there's a snapshot in there somewhere.

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), July 28, 2003.

Take all the time you need, Lon.

Your snapshot, whenever it comes, will be worth any wait.

-- (sonofdust@take.time), July 28, 2003.

(((Lon)))

When you hit the road, this time I'll just meet you anywhere in the state. Just tell me where and when.

-- helen (love@you.lots), July 29, 2003.

This started out to be something else, but turned out as a lingering smapshot. I don't expect my brother to last another month. I guess that is on my mind and led me back down this path. After this, I promise to work on the story (remember the story?) (from JUNE!)

----------------

It came a rain that afternoon. One of those late summer, bragging rains. Like the feed store hands used to say when they saw a city cowboy, all hat and no horse. It only lasted a few seconds, but made a good show of it, with those big droplets that felt like something solid when they landed on your shoulder or ricocheted off the curve of your face. They dappled the concrete of the drive area, seething hot from the Texas summer sun, one drop to each square foot, no two landing in the same spot. They each gave a slight hiss and disappeared into a thin lifting of steam. Some bombarded the ladies standing close to the building walls, mixing with the salty dampness already on their cheeks. Some splattered on the waiting line of cars, washing a thin waxy dust from the ivory paint of the lead vehicle. I thought about that for a moment; when did they change? Weren’t they supposed to be black?

About then, they brought out the coffin to the empty and gaping hearse. They had closed the lid for the final time; no raindrop would ever fall on her forehead again, no ray of sun would ever bring a blush to her cheeks. Already, I wondered how I would remember that face. Every image seemed to be a reflection of old photographs; a young beauty, sitting by a black-and-white stream, an Easter Sunday mother, holding the hand of a toddler in new clothes. A laughing grandmother with a succession of new babies, or a grey and frail woman, smiling over a birthday cake, ninety years in coming; I knew them all, knew them from small pieces of glossy paper. Only a few living pictures remained, from those last days before she left us. The face of an elderly child, trusting and confused, wide-eyed in panic of lost breath. I knew, and hoped, that those would fade in time, replaced by earlier and happier scenes. I looked around at family and friends, at children and lovers, and wondered how I would remember these other faces, how I would see them in my own sleep.

It came a rain that afternoon. But it passed all too swiftly, it’s substance rising in vapors around us, unnoticed in the business of the day.

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), August 13, 2003.

Lon, you are one of the finest writers I've had the honor of reading.

-- helen (you@are.the.best), August 14, 2003.

Yeah, well I feel the same way about you, Helen. When are we gonna get rich and famous? (I'm ready!)

Kit and go on the road for a few days today, then up to see how my brother is doing. They brought him home yesterday, I believe just to make him comfortable and wait. I'll check in when I can.

-- Lon (lgal@exp.net), August 14, 2003.

WOW!

Lon, I almost never cry at things I read, but that had me in tears - touched my heart to the core. Life is indeed like those raindrops, and I realize it more and more all the time. I once read about life being like a string of pearls. I try to create new precious memories to add to my string every day. Thanks for this one.

-- Tricia the Canuck (jayles@telusplanet.net), August 14, 2003.