As you read this, it is Thanksgiving Day in the United States. As you read this, imagine what my partner and I are doing right now.

Today we celebrate our tenth year of hosting a pot-luck Thanksgiving feast for friends: mostly seniors, who otherwise would be alone today. Traditionally, Thanksgiving is a day when people gather with their families, enjoy camaraderie, storytelling, music, football games on television, and too much food centered around roast turkey, as demonstrated by my friend, the Swedish Chef, and his uncle, here:

It is unfortunate that because the U.S. Thanksgiving holiday is so close to Christmas (I think the Canadians got it right when they celebrate the holiday in October), that families who are separated geographically do not get together at Thanksgiving if they must make a forced choice on which holiday to choose to gather. Thus, about 90 people we know do not have an opportunity today to get together with their respective families. But we are happy to serve as a substitute this Thanksgiving Day.

Throughout the day today, my own family will pick up senior friends and bring them to our home. Our friends bring with them some food item that they made or bought. Their contributions range from appetizers to vegetables to breads to desserts. Or, some may have contributed plastic utensils, paper products, or even trash bags (goodness knows we need them!) All of this was organized this year by the world’s #1 logistician, a senior bud and terrific planner.

Our senior friends come in “shifts” and at any given time, we may have 20 to 30 guests, being tended to by about ten of my family (siblings, nieces, and nephews). All I do is cook two turkeys the day before, and two on Thanksgiving Day. I rotate the turkey to the carving board and then warming trays throughout the day. And that’s really all I have to do, food-wise: cook four turkeys. Everything else is provided in abundance by our visitors.

We laugh, listen to the piano, talk, smile, share, and enjoy rich camaraderie among one another. And, about every two hours, we stop the festivities for a while and conduct one of my family traditions. We hold hands and go around the room and ask each person to Give Thanks to someone for something. I have spent hours composing my Thanksgiving Messages, which I anticipate with great hope will be well-received, as they are truly heart-felt.

By the end of the day, when my family helpers, my partner, and I have cleaned up the worst of it, disposed of the mess, and put what needs to be discarded in bags or boxes in the garage (which we will recycle, compost, or take to the dump tomorrow), we give my family helpers a small gift to thank them. My partner is terrific in finding just the right gift to give to them. Then, after they leave, my partner and I turn down the lights, turn on the piano one last time, and give each other a card. This is our tradition. We turn to one another, hold hands, look into each other’s eyes, and say why we are thankful this year.

Some people think that this huge all-day pot-luck Thanksgiving event is a big deal and a hassle. Actually, after ten years, we have gotten it down to a science. With everyone’s help and organization, things roll along very smoothly. it is an American expression to say, “it was a piece of cake” when referring to accomplishing a task easily. In this case, we say, “it was a piece of pie” because everyone knows that pie is the dessert of choice on Thanksgiving (not cake.)

Life is short: show those you love that you love them. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone, everywhere!

Yesterday, I went through the family rituals of saying goodbye to an aunt at her funeral. She led a very difficult life. She bore four children, the last two having significant developmental disabilities.

Rather than complain about the burden of caring for two severely disabled children, it was an observation pointed out during her funeral that she received her children as gifts from God, and that all she did for her who life was demonstrate her love for her children and all others.

I listened to the Priest during the funeral, and thought: “you know, he’s right. Every single time I visited my aunt, I could tell that her children required a lot of help and attention. She calmly, quietly, and consistently did whatever she needed to do, and she always did it with a smile and genuine loving care.”

She never once said, “see what I’m doing” or “woe is me.” She just loved her children every single day. She helped them learn and re-learn simple tasks to be able to function. She worked with them to help them develop into good, loving, people, as limited as they are in mental functions. My aunt among all of my father’s 21 siblings was, I think, number one in showing what love really meant, and was the epitome of someone with a caring heart.

I am sad that my aunt died, but we are all relieved. Her last nine years were very difficult, with many medical setbacks, pain, and suffering. But never once did she complain. She loved and loved and loved, and we loved her back. Warmly, calmly, quietly. She served as our family’s inspiration, and we always remember that.

I guess she noticed, because she left a note to request who her pallbearers should be, and in her note she said, “I want [BHD] to serve as one of my pallbearers, because his love, caring, and compassion is so evident. That’s who I want to carry me into the Church, and carry me Home.” Man, I cried so hard… I didn’t know she noticed.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them. May my aunt rest in peace.

Family is family and blood is thicker than water. Despite years of long-term differences with the UltraCatholic branch of my father’s family tree, we are together again, arm-in-arm, consoling each other as we grieve over the death of one of my father’s sisters — my aunt — who passed away on Monday after a very prolonged, painful illness. (Note, this is not the aunt for whom I care and about whom I write often. That aunt is actually my father’s sister-in-law, not a blood relative.)

My aunt had been in poor health for a very long time. I visited her on occasion, but did not have much quality time with her because often she would nod off or be unable to follow a conversation. Our lives and our worlds were very different. She cared for two severely developmentally disabled children all of her life (when I knew her), and that ongoing, strong and heartfelt care took every ounce of energy from her.

Her husband worked hard to provide for the family. He was very devoted to his wife and children. My aunt worked very hard, as well, though her work was unpaid, but was evident in how her children were enabled to live as happy a life as they could in their respective circumstances.

My aunt’s husband (my uncle) passed away in February of this year. At the time, my aunt was severely ill and we didn’t think she had much longer to live. But she proved once again how strong she was, and lived nine more months (to the day) after her husband passed.

This Friday, the family gathers. We attend the viewing, the funeral, and then all go over to my cousin’s house to visit. Regardless of differences in political beliefs, or how shunned and hypocritically I have been treated by a large branch of the family tree who were taught by their Catholic upbringing that I live in sin because I love and live with another man — we put that aside for a day. We listen, we talk, we share, and we retell childhood stories and share memories of our lives over decades of time. It is our bonds of family and shared times together that hold us close today.

I’m glad that my partner and I cleaned the house last weekend, as we have three unexpected out-of-town house guests who are here for the funeral — a brother and two cousins. My partner is just muttering; he doesn’t like to have people around, but on occasions when family calls, then dislikes and discomfort are put aside. Perché? — la famiglia. Lei non disputa con Natura di Madre, così Lei punteggia disputi con la famiglia.

Times like this remind me that blood is blood and family is family, and as my father taught me at a very young age: family comes first. My Dad will be watching, and I will honor him. I will honor his sister, as well as pay respects for the greater good of la famiglia.

May God care for my lovely aunt, reunite her with her devoted husband, and bring peace and comfort to all.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them, even if they measure their love for you differently from how you measure your love for them.

When you work with and befriend seniors, there are times that predicaments present themselves that can be befuddling if not distressing. Such an event occurred on Sunday.

Mr. & Mrs. P, a sweet couple whose devotion to one another was always inspiring and fun to observe, live down the road and around the corner from me. Mr. P would ask for my help from time to time as he tended his gardens, and realized that he couldn’t do what he once was able to do, such as thin the iris corms or trim wayward growth from the hydrangeas. It wouldn’t take but a half-hour every now-and-then to help out. Then I would go inside and enjoy a chat over some lemonade and cookies that Mrs. P would have freshly baked.

Mr. & Mrs. P were among the first to attend our annual Thanksgiving pot-luck events which we began to hold in 1999. They would arrive early, insist on helping in some way, and were the defacto hosts — welcoming others, smiling, singing, playing piano, laughing, and sharing their boundless good spirits with all. I always got such a charge out of every minute I spent with them. I felt regret and remorse that their two grown children only visited once each year, and each time they came, it was like, “oh boy, we’re here! Aren’t you happy to see me?” They seemed to ignore their parents otherwise, as they tended to their children and their busy lives. Nothing — absolutely nothing — is more wrong than ignoring parents who cared for you and brought you up. (Okay, enough of this rant for now!)

Last December, though, I got that dreaded phone call. Mr. P had suffered a cardiac arrest and died suddenly. Mrs. P was as strong as she could be. Both of her children came, and one stayed a week after the funeral. After her daughter left, I began to call and check in on Mrs. P more regularly. Mrs. P is a strong woman, and not alone in this world. She has built a good group of friends who began to take her out, get her involved in activities, and even go on a nice cruise this past May. Mrs. P will make it.

She had told me a couple weeks ago that her church was holding a dinner-dance this past Sunday. That dance is held every year this time. She and Mr. P would go every year, and have a marvelous time. This year, she said, she would go with some of her friends.

But she called me on Sunday morning and said those words that were hard-to-hear, “I don’t want to go to a dance with a bunch of widows.” She didn’t come out and ask, directly, but I could hear it in her voice. She wanted me to take her.

Gosh, what a dilemma. I was still feeling weak and not completely recovered from the flu. It would require dressing in a suit (yuck). It would require pretending to move to the beat of music (believe me, when most people go “cha-cha-cha,” I go “stumble-fumble-crawl”.) It would require finding the energy and internal resolve to get over my loathing of dressing up and dancing. Man, this caused me to fret quite a bit!

My partner was no help. “Just tell her that you’re still getting over the flu and can’t go.” or “just say no. You can’t say ‘yes’ to everybody for everything.” But my heart was tugged so very hard.

I thought, “man, this is a horrible time for my twin brother to be in Europe and my best friend (brother-in-heart) who is a great dancer to be so far away in Arizona.” I got into the shower, mentally preparing myself … knowing that by the time I picked up Mrs. P, I would have a huge smile on my face, even if strangled with a tie and confined in a suit.

As I was getting out my clothes and my partner was refreshing my suit with a steamer, I got to thinking about this nice guy I met a few weeks ago when I was doing my annual senior safety smoke alarm project. He was new to the area and our group. He said as he left that day to keep in touch, and that he really wanted to help out. He loved working with seniors and they sure seemed to warm up to his happy-go-lively spirit.

I took a shot — I found his name and number on the volunteer lists and gave him a call. I explained the situation. He was thrilled to be asked, and said that he loved to dance, particularly ballroom, but didn’t know where or how to find such opportunities. It was like he had absolutely nothing else to do.

I called Mrs. P and explained who D was, and was honest with her — that I really am not a dancer, and trying to dance makes me very uncomfortable. Also, I could say honestly that I still was recovering from the flu and didn’t think I had the energy to try to dance or even stand for a long time. I promised to come over and be there when D arrived to provide the formal introductions.

I did that. D looked great in a suit that set off his muscular physique, and Mrs. P looked radiant in a dark blue dress. I pinned on a corsage that I thought to pick up. She beamed. She seemed to bounce lightly down the sidewalk on D’s arm as he escorted her to his snazzy black Dodge Charger. To be honest, tears welled up in my eyes as I saw them leave.

Mrs. P and D both called me on Sunday evening, and said that they had a great time and enjoyed each other’s company. They each said how nice the other was, and how much they danced: every number! Whew! I couldn’t have done that!

Ordinarily, I am not a matchmaker. I am very glad, though, that this situation worked out the way that it did: a win-win-win for all of us. And yep, Mrs. P has a date for our Thanksgiving event, too. How sweet….

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

Continuing with relaying stories related to the “upside” of being down with the flu for a week….

Yesterday, my partner and I were feeling better and thought that with our big Thanksgiving event looming closer, where we will be entertaining about 100 guests throughout the day, we should get serious about doing some housecleaning.

I had on a pair of Wrangler jeans that I have worn for years, a t-shirt, and a my Chippewa Firefighter boots that are very comfortable for hard work (even vacuuming!) We moved some furniture to vacuum behind it, and even rolled up sides of area rugs to chase those darned dusty bunnies that lurk under there.

As I was moving the living room sofa back into its place, I bent over and when I stood back up, my partner broke into hysterics. I looked down and was aghast — my pants had fallen down. Right there with the front window curtains wide open.

I knew that I lost weight when I was sick, and I still have not regained much of an appetite. Apparently, I have lost so much weight that my jeans just fell down. I knew that I was drawing the belt a notch tighter, but even with that… this is ridiculous.

I weighed myself and found that I have lost 15 pounds. I still have a long way to go, but losing 15 pounds in one week is fairly dramatic. However, this is encouraging me to keep on a reasonable eating regime even more, and with more exercise as I regain my strength, things may work out for the better. And to think, this was caused by getting dreadfully ill.

My next step is to go speak with my regular physician. I have some underlying health conditions that affect my weight and what I can eat. There are many things that are helpful with dieting that I cannot eat — most vegetables, diet-oriented substitutes, spices, and oils. If I can find a way to control what I eat and be able to eat things that do not make me sick otherwise, then I perhaps can find a breakthrough to this weight yo-yo situation that I have had to live with for years.

We’ll see…

Life is short: keep the momentum!

I am seldom one to get sick, or when I do, remain down for more than a day or two. My partner has not taken a day off of work for an illness in more than seven years… until this week.

“They” say that the H1N1 flu is mild. I guess compared with seasonal flu, it is not as severe, but let me tell ‘ya, this flu is no cakewalk. The good news is that our fevers have abated, we are able to sleep better at night, and our eyes don’t hurt so we can read, use the computer, or watch TV. However, we still have quite a bit of tightness in our chest, and remain congested. We are still coughing and sneezing from time to time. The doctor says that these symptoms may persist for several more days. Thus, we remain at home so that we do not expose others to this illness or make ourselves worse by trying to resume normal activity when we are not ready for it.

The brighter side of taking this unexpected week off includes good things:

• I am able to see how my mentoring others has paid off. Two people stepped up and delivered excellent presentations at public hearings in my stead this week. I think I can retire now from voluntary public service (smile.)

• Several people who I write about — those who I care for by doing things with and for them — have helped us in our time of need. They have run errands, brought groceries, dropped off casseroles and other goodies, books & magazines, and one even brought us flowers. How sweet and thoughtful. It kinda shows how love goes ’round — the more you give it away, the more you get back.

• One of my sweetest ‘elder buds’ has completely taken over the planning and organizing for our annual Thanksgiving feast. What a tremendous relief! We look forward to hosting this event in just two weeks (whew! it’s coming up quickly!)

• Since we (still) do not have an appetite, and are surviving on a bowl or two of chicken soup each day, I know that I have lost at least ten pounds, if not more. I’ll try to maintain the weight-loss momentum when I regain my strength by exercising more.

• My partner and I haven’t spent this much time together in ages. We are finding that we have lots to talk about, lots to share, much to enjoy, and going through this together, our relationship is even more strengthened.

• Being fearful that my elderly aunt who is already in fragile health might contract this illness if I were to see her, I have not been able to attend to her needs this week. Thank goodness for family and friends who have stepped up to fill in, help out, and provide that ongoing care so all I have to do is check in by phone.

• I don’t miss work at all.

• A good buddy threatened to send a search & rescue team to check in on us. I told him that we’re okay — but that he should send the team anyway as long as they were in uniform and their boots were shined. [I may be sick, but I am not dead!]

Overall, we are taking each day at a time, getting better, but not trying to rush back into things too quickly. We will make it.

Thanks to many who have checked in by phone and email. We appreciate it.

Life is short: look on the bright side of life!

Yep, I got it. Despite frequent hand-washing, somehow I have come down with the flu. Since I got a seasonal flu shot several weeks ago, I suspect, then, that I have H1N1. Yuck. I am so achy and sore, I feel like I have been hit by a truck. I have a fever and am congested.

I started feeling the symptoms on Saturday afternoon, so I guess it was a good thing that I did not go on that all-day motorcycle ride after all. Saturday night, I was miserable. Same with all day Sunday and Sunday night.

I did make a batch of my amazingly curative home-made Italian chicken soup. I was able to eat some of it, though I have to admit that I do not have much of an appetite.

I am resting, drinking my fluids, resting, drinking more fluids, taking aspirin, drinking fluids, and resting. Oh, I guess I should say that I am not going to work until after the fever breaks.

Please do not give me medical advice… there is enough of that in the family, thanks. I can not tolerate Ibuprofen, Motrin, Naproxin, or related NSAID OTC drugs. The only thing I can handle is aspirin. I can take acetominophen, but it doesn’t do a thing for me (it does not reduce fever or body aches, so why bother with something that is not effective for me?)

My partner has been a trooper, getting juice for me and helping as best he can, yet maintain his distance. We fear, as close as we live together, that he is next.

Oh well, it goes to show that no matter how careful you are, it is still possible to get exposed to this bug.

This blog will probably go “on autopilot” for a while. I will blog again when I am better. Meanwhile, enjoy reading things that have been building up.

Shown is a photo of me and my sweet uncle, for whom I cared in the winter of his life until his peaceful passing at home in September, 2005. This photo was taken just two weeks before he died.

Had my uncle still been living, today would mark his 100th birthday.

I was at his wife’s home this morning, doing my usual things such as paying bills and balancing her checkbook, reviewing her meds and ensuring she had an adequate supply, and just sitting and chatting. It helps older people to have someone to talk to, listen, and share memories and stories. Her memory is failing due to symptoms of Alzheimer’s Disease. She had forgotten that today was her husband’s birthday.

We shared stories, laughed, and remembered the good times. I will never forget how fundamentally my sweet uncle changed my life. You see, in his last year of life on this Earth, his physical health was failing. He had to go to the doctor often. He was frustrated because his mind was still good, but he knew his body was not being cooperative. Man, he hated to have to use a wheelchair to get around.

I had left my previous job and took almost a year to spend time with him. We would visit, laugh, and enjoy what he referred to as his “lasts.” His last dinner at a restaurant. His last visit to a horse race. His last meal with our large family. His last crab feast. His last meal of pasta con sarde. His last visit to our home where he enjoyed strolling and sitting in the gardens, regaling history with my partner. In his last August, on an unusually cool and sunny morning, I got him in his wheelchair and we took a “walk.” We strolled around his retirement community for six hours over four miles. We talked about everything under the sun. We would stop and watch the wildlife, smell the roses, and just smile.

That summer was the most bittersweet of my life. I knew my uncle was preparing to die. He faced his death with dignity and courage. He wanted to remain at home, but his doctors required that he have ongoing care from someone more able-bodied than his wife to provide that care. I was in the fortunate position to do that. In his last few months, I spent most of my days and often many nights with him.

I am not a trained medical care attendant, but I learned from people who taught me how to provide gentle caring attention. How to help him bathe. How to help him use the bathroom. How to help him live comfortably with as little pain as possible.

He had lost his ability to see well enough to read. I would read him the daily newspaper from cover to cover. He would rant and rave about the activities (or lack thereof) by the last President. He would scream about the evil Deputy President. He would express concern about how people were being treated (or mistreated) who suffered a major calamity caused by the wrath of a hurricane for which response actions were exceptionally inadequate. These conversations kept his mind active, and helped me to learn so much.

I miss my uncle very much, but I have no regrets. He died on his own terms, in his own home, with his loving wife of 64 years by his side. I remember as he awoke from his last difficult night, he motioned to me. I held his hand. He seemed to be trying to tell me something. I thought, “a drink of water?” “do you need to go to the bathroom?”

Instead, he pulled me closer, opened his blue eyes wide, and said, “thank you. You have a lot to do so get going.” That was his famous expression to dismiss us when he was tired. In past years, my partner and I would take the signal and leave, so he could rest. In this case, I just continued to hold his hand. He closed his eyes, then stopped breathing. He just quietly passed away, with peace, honor, and his dignity intact.

Happy birthday, my sweet uncle. How much I learned from you. How much you cared for me, for my partner, and for your lovely wife for whom I still provide daily attention.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

I have been confronted with a very difficult situation in my life, which could be, to some people, very upsetting when it comes to evaluating one’s self-worth and perception of same. Yeah, it’s that serious.

No, nothing is wrong with my health. My partner is fine. Our home is okay. My family is okay. I wasn’t fired. I did not lose an election (we did not have any elections yesterday where I live). Read between the lines to determine what else it could be.

I could respond to this situation in a negative manner. I could burn bridges and respond with a rather snarky tune. I could be hard on myself and play “shoulda, woulda, coulda.” I could lay blame and point fingers.

Instead, after several days of very careful introspection, discussion with my partner, and listening to advice from family and close friends who I trust and who care for me, I decided to take the high road. That is, I am going to work through this situation and work toward my future, and do it professionally, competently, and peacefully. The importance of listening to your heart in all the decisions you make is another facet of taking the high road. And it is my heart’s intent to consider this setback as a minor bump in the road rather than something worse (or permit it to become something worse by allowing it to consume me).

If anything I have learned, reacting with anger and emotion to an upsetting setback can create long-term consequences that can haunt someone for a lifetime. Internalizing misfortune can breed failure. That is, if one thinks he is a failure, then he will be one. If one imagines future success, then one is more likely to be successful. It is as simple as that.

I have begun to take specific steps and actions to respond deliberately and positively to what could be, if I let it, a horrible set-back. But I won’t let it. I won’t let “them” win. As my partner said, “you’re the winner so act like one.”

That’s who I am, and how I behave. It is hard. Believe me, it’s rough. I have not been sleeping well and I still have some difficult thoughts and emotions to deal with. But because of the net that surrounds me, I may fall but I won’t be broken. Not with the strength of the net who support me: my partner, my family, and my closest friends. I have reached out to that net, and they are there, holding me and my net firmly. I am so richly blessed, and sincerely appreciative.

Life events like this remind us not to settle in our work, relationships, and how we live. It’s when we settle for acceptable, mediocre, or worse — and not what our heart believes — that we may feel that life has served lemons.

Life is short: when you feel that life gives you lemons, make lemonade (sweetened with the love of those holding up your net!)

Words can not express my gratitude to those who hold my net and support me; in particular, to J, AZ, and K who helped me with this post.