Yesterday after work, I made a detour to the downtown barber shop where my son Ben works. It’s a great old school barber shop whose walls and ceilings are covered with all manner of sports memorabilia. From newspaper clippings and photos celebrating the local high schools, to college teams and the pros.

Barbershops are a particular right of passage for boys. Aside from the occasional mom with her toddler, it’s a peculiarly male environment and one of the first places where we are exposed to men talking about men stuff -  jokes, sports, politics, women and sex. There’s an endless supply of distractions for any young man; gumball machines, pop, t.v., videogames, magazines, comic books, newspapers and sports stuff.

Just as I was starting to mow the lawn on Saturday my sister called. The nursing home had just called her saying dad was very confused and it “might help if someone would visit him”. No guilt with that last line. She was concerned about him but also felt bad for not going to see him that day. Since they were in the middle of a lake out of town, she asked if I would go?

Didn’t sleep that well last night as I was jarred from a very deep sleep by the airhorn of a weather alarm radio telling me there was a severe thunderstorm watch.  A watch, not a warning. There’s no way I can see to turn off the ‘watch’ alert and only have it go off for the more serious ‘warning’. Because of my interrupted sleep I had to force myself to run when all I really wanted to do was crash on the couch. Running, sometimes it’s magic, sometimes it’s just work and sweat. Still there’s always a sense of accomplishment when I’m done and that’s worth something.

For Father’s Day my brothers, sister and I all went together and bought dad a jacket and hat embroidered with patches that said U.S. Army Retired and WWII, Korea, Viet Nam veteran. I don’t think I’ve seen dad that happy with a present in a long time. He kept looking at it, running his fingers over the embroidery and saying “Oh boy that’s nice. That’s something.” Between seeing all of his family and the gift, we made an old man very happy.

There’s a bunch of family birthdays in June so we combine them with Father’s Day and have a reunion of sorts. A lot of homemade food, drink, talking and laughing.

Finally got word that the tombstone we bought for our mom and dad’s plot was engraved and has been installed at the grave site.

We were all going to take dad up to see it but decided that maybe it would be better to make the 2 hour drive on a non-holiday. That way we could all enjoy the day off.

Still am amazed that a hand-carved angel tombstone that probably weighs 300+ pounds ended up in a small Kansas farm town. I wonder what the Chinese sculptor thought about releasing the angel from the stone. Did they think about the person it was for or was it just another job?

When I was running tonight my mind, as usual, was bouncing all around. Somewhere in the flotsam and jetsam of thoughts my dog Marley came to mind. He’s the exact opposite of my other black dog.

We named him Marley because he’s a Rasta dog. Cool and easy going. He’s a very old black dog. He will turn 17 this July. I’ve never had a dog this old. For the last three years it was in the back of my mind that this will be his last Thanksgiving, Christmas, Winter, Spring, etc. but it never was. We should have named him Timex.

Last night I picked up my dad and brought him home for dinner. I used to cringe every time I’d walk dad through my garage and into my house as the garage has many of the tools that used to be his. It’s pretty common for children to have enormous guilt over placing their parents in a nursing home especially when they’re still cognizant enough to know they’re loosing so much and can’t do anything to stop it. It doesn’t matter that it’s the right thing to do. It just hurts and you have to keep repeating the mantra “I love them and it’s for their own good.”

A motherless son celebrates mother’s day

One of the things about growing older is you start to lose that filter between your brain and your mouth. You no longer put the brakes on your true feelings. When you’re mad everyone is going to hear it. If something off color comes to mind, you’ll hear that too. The last few years of mom’s life were full of conversations that could make you cringe or laugh and sometimes both.

One year ago today my mom died. Rather than dwell on the sadness of her passing I want to celebrate her life. She had a great life with my dad. They were married just shy of 64 years and they raised a good family. She was funny and loving and I’ll always miss her.

If you would like to read more about her read my post Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child.

The following are two of my favorite poems

The day my son had his wisdom teeth out I stayed home with him (doctor’s orders) to make sure he didn’t enjoy the after effects of anesthesia and surgery too much. He collapsed on the couch and flipped channels in between spiting into a large plastic cup and changing the gauze pads that made him look a little like a hamster with a mouth packed full of seeds.

He kept asking me “Why? Why does it have to hurt so much dad?”

What could I say? “I don’t know, it’s just the way things are . . . What the hell are you watching anyway?”