Where Am I? And Whose Dogs Are These?

I can't believe a whole week has gone by. The last time I was at work was last Monday, and since then, I have been to Pennsylvania and back, picked up Joey, spent a little more than a day with him, and just this morning dropped him back off. This morning feels like it was a couple days ago. He had to be there a little before 8AM, after which I immediately came home, laid on the couch and ate M&Ms until I passed out. I didn't need the candy, but I did need the sleep.

The trip to Pennsylvania was a success; we made it up there before Pop died. In fact, he's still alive, though now has a fever, is dehydrated, and vomiting. We didn't think he'd last the weekend, and we're not really sure why he's hanging on unless it's to see if his wife (indeed my grandmother) will offer any apology to him for being so mean over the years. We'll see. It was weird being up there. I don't think I'd been in almost 10 years, and as I've previously written, I hadn't seen Pop for five. He was barely conscious, though I'm told he knew we were there. He remains on oxygen and only opens his eyes occasionally. Additionally, his speech is almost unintelligible, and he doesn't talk a whole lot. But he apparently talked a lot more when Ari and I were there. As we were telling him good bye the night before we flew out, I could clearly hear him say "I'm just at that point." I really wonder how he feels about his life and if he has any regrets. Not to air out the family laundry, but my grandma has been a real bitch to him and most all of the rest of us. However, he rarely if ever stood up for himself or anyone with whom she was having an issue. Stockholm's Syndrome-ish. With that and the fact that we always lived so far away from them, I don't have a whole lot of memories with him as a kid, though there was usually a yearly visit. I wonder if I've blocked some of them out because of my grandmother? Hmm. I wish I could have talked with him more now that I'm older and maybe learned more about him. There's so much more to the story than just this, and while I have no problem writing about it, I won't out of respect for the rest of the family. Let's just say that the information I learned while I was up there blew my hair back, and it still won't lay down.

And then there's Joey. I went all the way to PA and forgot my damn phone charger. It didn't matter since I had no reception up on the mountain. Instead, I changed my voicemail from a land line to include a number where I could be reached. Wouldn't you know a couple hours afterward (and after I'd gone to bed), Joe called and left a message on my family's answering machine. Poor guy - he didn't really know what was going on. Luckily I got to talk to him the next day. I had not heard from him in over a week in GA, but the minute I left, he called. Luckily, I got home in time on Friday to pick him up for a brief weekend at home together. He'd completed the three week introduction to his big training on Friday in which he'd only been getting a couple hours of sleep for a week or two straight. He was basically narcoleptic until Saturday morning, but I couldn't blame him. Apparently at one point he was out in the woods sleeping on the wet ground with temps in the 30's amidst something called a "manferno." He managed to be the middle spoon between two dudes as they slept "nut to butt." It was all they could do to keep warm. I probably didn't show it as much as I should have this weekend, but I'm really proud for all he accomplished in his initial phase of this training. There was just too much going on yesterday. Slowly but surely I briefed him on the PA trip, and he told me more about his training. I cleaned out stuff to take to Goodwill, while he did his 487th lay out of all his things he needed to take with him. We even managed to see a couple innings of our neighbor boy's little league game, and then bought more stuff for Joe's packing list before coming home and organizing it all. We ended the night watching The Hurt Locker with Joe's commentary on how much of it was far-fetched, and then a haircut. Joe is still practically bald. Ah, training standards.

So here I am back home alone in my delicious king-sized bed. I spent three glorious nights in PA sharing a double bed with my sister. I'm pretty sure she hated it as much as I did as we both clung on to the tiny space on our respective sides, careful to not fall off the edge of the bed, nor to accidentally touch in the middle. Eek. Then I spent two nights sharing this king with Joe who of course was sick from the field. I spent the first night listening to him gurgle and wheeze. The second was better, and tonight as little Ralph once said similarly (though not exact), I'm going to be a viking. Good night.