![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Posted using TxtLJ
Sep. 23rd, 2009 10:25 pmMy father's father, David Earl Gutridge, began his journey to beyond the veil at 19:00 GMT-4 today, 23 September 2009, aged 83. May he rest in peace.
Saturday, Sunday, Death, and the Cats
Jul. 28th, 2009 12:36 amMy weekend was pleasant, on the whole.
Saturday i slept late, got some laundry in, gathered the recycling, and headed to the Reston South Recycling Center, intending to go for a hike along the Potomac after dumping the metal and plastic and paper. Just as i was opening the back of the CR-V, my phone rang. Twas L with the news that The Evil - her grandmother - had died an hour before. So instead of a hike, i went to Springfield via a still-scenic, if not as scenic as it once was, route, to pay call on Ms Brown, L's mother and The Evil's daughter.
As always, it was nice to see Ms Brown, despite the circumstances. Ms Allen's passing has freed Ms Brown of a huge burden - that of five years of caring for and responsibility for her mother. So many mixed emotions in the house that day, though that too shall pass.
Sunday was the Great Day of Laundry. At one point, i opened the sliding glass door enough to stick my arm out to see if i felt like getting dressed to leave the house. The door started shaking in a familiar way. I released the door and watched. It shook just so three times more before i opened it a smidge more. The door behaved as expected. Jasper has left the building.
It is common, among humans, to hear/see the departed briefly some days to a week or so after their passing or memorial service, whatever form that may take. I've had many, many reports from people of similar sounds/sights through many moons now.
A week after my father died, on one evening, as my sister and i were going to bed, mom heard the distinctive sound that Dad's belt buckles made - i wonder if she still has any of them, many vintage Secret Service ones - i heard the distinct squeak the top stair made when he came up the stairs after his right leg began to go due to the nerve damage from late 1973 or early 1974, and my sister heard the particular squeak the floor outside her bedroom door made when he stood there briefly to look in on her as we were going off to sleep.
When i opened a sliding door, Jasper would run up, stick his head through and ram it with his shoulders, knowing that many will slide open enough for him to pass, which meant the door vibrated as he went through, as he would go through the smallest opening he could fit through. Coming in, however, usually required widening the opening a few centimetres for him. The feel/sigh/sound of the door is very familiar. I'm sure that he has moved on now, and i wish him only the best. The way the door behaved, he was anxious to go out and be truly free, for the anxiety of his brain chemistry kept him from being as free as he might have been in the flesh, though i suppose his bon with me may have played some role in that too. He'll be well missed, but he had a long life for his species.
Feldspar has been cuddlier and a bit clingier at me since Thursday last. Alabaster is 11 months now, and doing well, and behaving like the kitten he is, and shall be yet for a while more. I look forward to seeing how his personality changes in the coming months and years.
Continuing on about Alabaster for a bit, let me tell you about his hair. He's rabbit-furred, which means incredibly soft. He has a thin, very fine coat of 3-5 cm long hair on his body and tail, slightly shorter on his legs and face. Hair that sticks to everything, and i mean everything. Hair that floats on the least wind. Hair that forms visually interesting self-macrame in the dryer filter. In the end, his hair, which is much of his beauty, is his least endearing feature. I groom him often to reduce shedding. His tail produces huge quantities. New pictures before too long, i promise, if you're interested.
And coming back round to Jasper, i called CRK after i took the body to the vet for disposal. CRK then kindly sent these three pictures of Jasper from 2004, when he was 13, and i had just moved into my 1st Reston apartment. The first two, especially the second, captures the beautiful yellow eyes which earned him his name.
Goodbye, Little Fucker*, as above, you shall be remembered. Peace unto you.
*a)Jasper sired a litter at age 9 months. b)He annoyed the bejeezus out of me when he was young, though his most annoying traits disappeared after Feldspar came into our life. c)Due to the part of me that resembles my mother, he responded to Fucker as readily as he did to Jasper, and long before the end, Fucker had come to be a term of endearment at him. :)
Saturday i slept late, got some laundry in, gathered the recycling, and headed to the Reston South Recycling Center, intending to go for a hike along the Potomac after dumping the metal and plastic and paper. Just as i was opening the back of the CR-V, my phone rang. Twas L with the news that The Evil - her grandmother - had died an hour before. So instead of a hike, i went to Springfield via a still-scenic, if not as scenic as it once was, route, to pay call on Ms Brown, L's mother and The Evil's daughter.
As always, it was nice to see Ms Brown, despite the circumstances. Ms Allen's passing has freed Ms Brown of a huge burden - that of five years of caring for and responsibility for her mother. So many mixed emotions in the house that day, though that too shall pass.
Sunday was the Great Day of Laundry. At one point, i opened the sliding glass door enough to stick my arm out to see if i felt like getting dressed to leave the house. The door started shaking in a familiar way. I released the door and watched. It shook just so three times more before i opened it a smidge more. The door behaved as expected. Jasper has left the building.
It is common, among humans, to hear/see the departed briefly some days to a week or so after their passing or memorial service, whatever form that may take. I've had many, many reports from people of similar sounds/sights through many moons now.
A week after my father died, on one evening, as my sister and i were going to bed, mom heard the distinctive sound that Dad's belt buckles made - i wonder if she still has any of them, many vintage Secret Service ones - i heard the distinct squeak the top stair made when he came up the stairs after his right leg began to go due to the nerve damage from late 1973 or early 1974, and my sister heard the particular squeak the floor outside her bedroom door made when he stood there briefly to look in on her as we were going off to sleep.
When i opened a sliding door, Jasper would run up, stick his head through and ram it with his shoulders, knowing that many will slide open enough for him to pass, which meant the door vibrated as he went through, as he would go through the smallest opening he could fit through. Coming in, however, usually required widening the opening a few centimetres for him. The feel/sigh/sound of the door is very familiar. I'm sure that he has moved on now, and i wish him only the best. The way the door behaved, he was anxious to go out and be truly free, for the anxiety of his brain chemistry kept him from being as free as he might have been in the flesh, though i suppose his bon with me may have played some role in that too. He'll be well missed, but he had a long life for his species.
Feldspar has been cuddlier and a bit clingier at me since Thursday last. Alabaster is 11 months now, and doing well, and behaving like the kitten he is, and shall be yet for a while more. I look forward to seeing how his personality changes in the coming months and years.
Continuing on about Alabaster for a bit, let me tell you about his hair. He's rabbit-furred, which means incredibly soft. He has a thin, very fine coat of 3-5 cm long hair on his body and tail, slightly shorter on his legs and face. Hair that sticks to everything, and i mean everything. Hair that floats on the least wind. Hair that forms visually interesting self-macrame in the dryer filter. In the end, his hair, which is much of his beauty, is his least endearing feature. I groom him often to reduce shedding. His tail produces huge quantities. New pictures before too long, i promise, if you're interested.
And coming back round to Jasper, i called CRK after i took the body to the vet for disposal. CRK then kindly sent these three pictures of Jasper from 2004, when he was 13, and i had just moved into my 1st Reston apartment. The first two, especially the second, captures the beautiful yellow eyes which earned him his name.
Goodbye, Little Fucker*, as above, you shall be remembered. Peace unto you.
*a)Jasper sired a litter at age 9 months. b)He annoyed the bejeezus out of me when he was young, though his most annoying traits disappeared after Feldspar came into our life. c)Due to the part of me that resembles my mother, he responded to Fucker as readily as he did to Jasper, and long before the end, Fucker had come to be a term of endearment at him. :)
RIP Mildred Loving
May. 5th, 2008 09:51 pmMrs. Loving died on Friday. Thanks to her and her husband marrying back in 1958, and their lawsuit which resulted in Loving v. Virgina, 388 U.S. 1 (1967), we in the United States yet today have the right to marry whom we please, regardless of skin color. The link presents the whole US Supreme Court decision, which is a fascinating read, especially for the reasoning behind their decision.
Tu ausencia me está abriendo un hueco....
Jun. 16th, 2007 11:53 pmFor the first time in many years, Father's Day is big-time on my radar this year. I think i need must take a trip out to the graveyard this month. After 21 years, the loss is still there, and tugging a bit harder than it has in some time. Probably a side effect of being less busy than usual for the time of year.
Tomorrow, i'm going to go help my friend L's mother get her house in order for her convalescence, as she gets here other knee replaced on Tuesday. It'll be nice to see Ms. Brown, even with her being a bit loopy on pain meds. Happily, as i'm not her child, i get my suggestions listened to a bit more, which makes helping her not quite as difficult.
(Uber bonus points to anyone who can identify the subject of this post.)
Tomorrow, i'm going to go help my friend L's mother get her house in order for her convalescence, as she gets here other knee replaced on Tuesday. It'll be nice to see Ms. Brown, even with her being a bit loopy on pain meds. Happily, as i'm not her child, i get my suggestions listened to a bit more, which makes helping her not quite as difficult.
(Uber bonus points to anyone who can identify the subject of this post.)
Observations, Reminisces, and Stati
Sep. 27th, 2006 09:38 pmI left work tonight in twilight at half past 19, GMT-4. The days, they wane, as they are wont to do at this point in the year. Despite this, my nose tells me that it's not Summer, not Fall. There hints of leaf mould in the air, whilst at the same time, my nose finds still the flowers of late Summer. My ears right now hear cicadas and crickets; again, Summer and Fall.
( About the trees, including the mangos and the lychees )
This year, i visited my father's grave not on his birthday, nor his deathday, nor his burial day. On each day, i had another social thing to do, and i went to each and enjoyed myself very much.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nadyalec's father died some years later on the the day mine was buried. I was fortunate to be able to have spent some time with Ghassan at his deathbed. I'm glad i did it; it was cathartic, if a bit trying. But then, what is joy without sorrow. I'm also glad to have been there for nadyalec, as sie was for me when my own father was ill. I remember both Thomas (my father) and Ghassan fondly, and i miss both dearly. Despite that, i find i've moved on enough to live well, but have very much not forgotten.
( A little bit about my grandfathers )
Samhain approaches. It's my favourite holiday of the year, followed closely by Long Night/Yule. I'll be helping to lead the annual Samhain Service in memory of at my church again this year. I'm looking forward to that, and hope some of you will join us for that service if you're in, or find yourself in, the DC area Sunday 29 Oct. Child care and Sunday School are available for your children, if you have any.
( The blurb for this year's Samhain service )
( About the trees, including the mangos and the lychees )
This year, i visited my father's grave not on his birthday, nor his deathday, nor his burial day. On each day, i had another social thing to do, and i went to each and enjoyed myself very much.
nadyalec's father died some years later on the the day mine was buried. I was fortunate to be able to have spent some time with Ghassan at his deathbed. I'm glad i did it; it was cathartic, if a bit trying. But then, what is joy without sorrow. I'm also glad to have been there for nadyalec, as sie was for me when my own father was ill. I remember both Thomas (my father) and Ghassan fondly, and i miss both dearly. Despite that, i find i've moved on enough to live well, but have very much not forgotten.( A little bit about my grandfathers )
Samhain approaches. It's my favourite holiday of the year, followed closely by Long Night/Yule. I'll be helping to lead the annual Samhain Service in memory of at my church again this year. I'm looking forward to that, and hope some of you will join us for that service if you're in, or find yourself in, the DC area Sunday 29 Oct. Child care and Sunday School are available for your children, if you have any.
( The blurb for this year's Samhain service )
Summer 1986
Jul. 11th, 2006 10:50 pm( Here's what came out of my fingers tonight )
And thus was my last summer of innocence. I knew i had an essay itching to get out today. Had no idea this would be the topic. Though it's been on my mind of late. I even pointedly went to, and much enjoyed, a cookout atleiacat and bfudlmint's place on his birthday this year, rather than my usual picnic at the graveyard.
And thus was my last summer of innocence. I knew i had an essay itching to get out today. Had no idea this would be the topic. Though it's been on my mind of late. I even pointedly went to, and much enjoyed, a cookout at
leiacat and bfudlmint's place on his birthday this year, rather than my usual picnic at the graveyard.For several years, in high school, and periodically for a few years after, i was in a quartet with a brilliantly talented cellist named Buffy Beverage. Second year of HS, we had a sub in math one day. She passed around a sheet, asking us to write our names for attendance. The sheet made its way around the room, and back to the sub. She looked over the list.
Buffy raised her hand and says,
The whole class then begins defending Buffy, resulting in the sub writing a nastygram to our instructor, who nearly fell on the floor laughing on reading the note.
I live around the corner from Sugarberry Ct in Reston. That's the street Buffy lived on when we were in HS. Buffy had juvenile diabetes, and died 10 September 2003, due to the diabetes. Sometimes, like tonight, when i drive past Sugarberry Ct, it makes me sad. I'm working on forming a quartet now, which made passing the street tonight especially poignant.
This is not a bad thing. It's just a thing i felt like sharing.
Alright, who wrote, she queriedBuffy Beverage?
Buffy raised her hand and says,
I did.
So what's your real name?
Buffy Beverage
No it is not. No one would be named Buffy Beverage
The whole class then begins defending Buffy, resulting in the sub writing a nastygram to our instructor, who nearly fell on the floor laughing on reading the note.
I live around the corner from Sugarberry Ct in Reston. That's the street Buffy lived on when we were in HS. Buffy had juvenile diabetes, and died 10 September 2003, due to the diabetes. Sometimes, like tonight, when i drive past Sugarberry Ct, it makes me sad. I'm working on forming a quartet now, which made passing the street tonight especially poignant.
This is not a bad thing. It's just a thing i felt like sharing.
