Week 315 Update

Saturday was a clutter of memories, and emotions. We had tried on Friday to get up in time to say goodbye to Tammy's Mom and we had missed her by an hour. We didn't know when the funeral would be, but we knew there was a lot of preparation to go through.

This would have been the second day of the DWLZ conference if it had not been canceled, and we have a couple of friends who were planning to be at our house for this weekend, who had postponed their visits because Dotti had broken her arm.

And this was the third anniversary of my stepfather's funeral. His service was held at the church at my old high school, and then they had another graveside service the next morning, and he was buried on May 20, 2004, in Medford, Oregon. LeRoy was a pall bearer on that day, a role he was going to play again this week.

The week was an untidy heap of memories, piled here and there in my mind and mostly covered with sadness and whatever substance it is that makes everything seem fuzzy when you look back. I felt frustrated because I didn't have much that I could do to help, and the funeral was pushed out until Thursday. I did have one work related project to do: getting Dotti's Newsletter out. It was due roughly on May 20. It went out in the late afternoon of Monday, May 21.

Tuesday Dotti and I took LeRoy to Perkins for breakfast/lunch in the late morning.

Wednesday landed on the same day of May as the one we returned home in 2004 from my stepfather's funeral. It seems incredible that 3 years have passed already!

Dotti and I took the brochures that she had created in Word and had them printed at Staples. While we waited we visited Borders Books and then had lunch at Red Robin. (Chili and salad: 6 points). We had several 3-point drinks at Jamba Juice over the week, and too many Starbucks coffees.

We found an emotional release in miniature golf. Jim and I went one day (Sunday?) and played a couple of games, and then Dotti and I played some on Wednesday, and then on Friday, Dotti, Tammy, Jim and I all went for a couple of games. The setting was indoors, and the atmosphere was humid, because there was running water, waterfalls and fountains. The walls were painted with ocean like scenes and there was the sound of seagulls coming through the speakers. It felt like we were playing at night, because the windows were blackening out, and the small foot lights were the only source of illumination. It was very pleasant, and we pretty much had the place to ourselves the entire time we played each day.

Thursday I woke up and weighed myself at 4:20 (203.5 pounds). But I was not very focused on that. I woke up early because I had some things to finish up before the funeral, and my mind wouldn't rest any longer until they were done.

I was asked to sing 3 songs for the funeral, and I have to admit I was very concerned with my ability to do them well, because of the emotions I would be feeling, and the emotions that those whom I love so much would be feeling as well. Song is an emotional medium that can express feelings far better (or at least, very differently) than prose, and at the same time, it requires that you be in better control of your voice to present it. Needless to say, my mind was churning with the possible problems with the upcoming task.

First of all, I was using a spiral notebook for the songs, rather than trying to fight on the podium with my large book of songs that I have been collecting over more than 30 years. I had already put the words and chords into the book for two of the songs, but I still had one more to transfer.

Secondly, I had to test my voice out to see how it was going to do. As the week had gone by, each day my voice was a little raspier, with allergies, or something else. (I was even worried about a possible cold coming on, but fortunately that had not happened.)

So, I started by writing out the words for Swing Low Sweet Chariot, and then tested the key for my voice before putting in the chords. I then went to Amazing Grace and found that I might have trouble hitting the high D that was required when singing in the Key of G. I ended up transposing down to the Key of D, and that worked much better (with one exception that I will mention later). Since it was all hand written anyway, I had no problem using my correction tape to wipe out the old chords and put in new ones. I finally set the key for The Old Rugged Cross, and found that all three songs now fit my voice conditions for that day.

I practiced the songs with and without a pick (it is a nylon string classical guitar, with electronic pickup, if you want to use it), and decided that I would use the pick. I made sure there were no errors in the handwritten words, and that all of it worked smoothly for me. I next played Will The Circle Be Unbroken, that starts, "I was standing, by my window, on a dark and cloudy day, when I saw that hearse arriving, come to take my mother away." I had a lot of trouble getting through that one, and was so thankful that I didn’t have to do that one at that chapel.

At one point, I looked out the window and was amazed by what I saw. The sun was just beginning to rise, and it was one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever seen. Blue dominated, but only by a slim majority. There were many small bunches of clouds spread out, and painted in beautiful red. I was enthralled with the beauty, but I was thinking that this was not the right weather for a funeral. It was right for a wedding, or the coronation of a king, but not a funeral.

I dressed in my black suit (the same one that I wore to dinner on day 6 on the cruise), and with the black guitar and its black strap, I felt that I was correctly dressed to express the sadness that I felt for this event. I was still concerned that my voice would not do as well in presenting my respects, but at least I had done all I could to get ready for my best effort.

I had no idea whether or not the chapel had a good PA system and so I had asked Jim and Tammy to bring along my amp that I keep at their house. The cell phone system in that part of Spokane was acting very strangely, and at various times you could send or receive during a call, but not both. Jim called to see if I had an extension cord for the amp. I could hear him very clearly, but he couldn't hear a word that I said. I ended up calling on the landline phone (how low tech!) and told him that I would very much appreciate the use of his extension cord, just in case it was needed. (We ran into a similar situation when Jim called on his cell phone to find out if we were going to follow them over to the cemetery or not.)

We planned to leave around 11:30, and LeRoy showed up as we were getting ready, and offered to drive us over to the funeral. We stopped on the way to get Dotti some Starbucks coffee, and then we arrived at the chapel.

The sunny day, was only hinting at anything possibly different from the clear blue, by showing a bunch of clouds down low on the horizon. The sun did little to cheer the air, or to warm the chill that was wrapped around so many of the hearts of the people we saw arriving.

Inside, we found that they had a PA system, but before we could even think of that there was Mom. She lay beautifully draped with a shawl about her shoulders, with just a touch of a smile on her face. She was beautiful, and appeared as peaceful as I had ever seen her. There was no sign of the pain that had been her constant companion towards the end. All that was put behind her, and all that remained was her natural beauty. She looked as though she were asleep and having a pleasant dream.

On a movie screen, that was set up on the right at the front of the chapel, they were showing a video that Dotti had created from pictures that LeRoy had scanned, or digital pictures we have (many of which I had taken at our family get-togethers over the years). There were old pictures showing Mom as a very young woman, and one of them was with her holding Tammy when Tammy was about Hunter's age. Seeing the four daughters together again on the screen brought tears to eyes, and I was hit with a flashback when I saw a picture of Tammy's late sister Denise, standing in her wedding gown, with her new husband John, as well has her Mom and Dad. I had sung at that wedding too, in 1982. (Oh my, how many things have changed since then!) Seeing Mom move from small child to the end, told a story of a very special life, and the pictures cycled through many times as the service continued.

Oh, I have to mention one other picture. It was one of Mom standing at the front door at Jim and Tammy's house. She had her hand up covering her face, because she just hated having her picture taken. How many times she and I played that game; because I would not be denied my picture of her, and she would not allow it to be taken? That picture was followed by one that I had taken immediately after the first one, and this one Dotti used in the brochure that she created for the funeral to show Mom waving goodbye with a smile with the caption: "Until we meet again…"

It takes a very special person to deal with the kind of pain that Mom did, and to retain such a great sense of humor. There will always be a spot in future family gatherings where Mom will be sitting, over there somewhere, just out of sight. And when the music is played, I know I will remember her words, "Thank you so much for singing my song," when the final verse of Amazing Grace is done.

Dotti did a very nice job on the brochure, including many pictures, some poetry, the 23rd Psalm, and a lot of information. The hours of work she put into it, as well as the love in her heart, really showed.

LeRoy was my "sound man" as he went to the rear of the chapel, as I tested the mike out. We determined that I would not need my amplifier, just about the time that Jim walked in the back carrying the amp and the extension cord. He was very understanding when I told him that it would not be needed, and LeRoy, always the thoughtful son, helped him get it back to the van.

Of course I can only give my thoughts here, and I am sure they are different from what others may have had, because I have to admit that my mind was racing with my part of the ceremony ahead. I had found a nice little niche where I could put my guitar behind the altar area, so I could go back and get it each time I was to go forward. (If I were to do it over again, I would borrow a guitar stand from LeRoy, whom I am sure would be happy to oblige me for such a worthy cause, and that would have made the process easier still.) I hate to keep people waiting for me to set up for a song, and I always try to find a way to shorten that time.

Still, even with my preoccupation with wanting to do a good job for Mom and for all of those in the room who had become our family over the years, accepting us as if we were blood relatives—yes, and especially Jim and Tammy—other things going on made their way into my perception. Theological points, and promised hope for the future, were there, and an incredibly well done summary of Mom's history, and examples showing her most important personality traits: some of them were not always flattering, but all of them were endearing. It was a well written "snapshot" of Mom (I think Tammy wrote it), and the pastor did a great job reading it to us.

Dotti and I had seen the pastor before, when he did the funeral for James, Claudette's little baby. Everyone referred to him as "Pastor John," and I could tell that he is very much respected by the family. He was the one who had the unfortunate task of visiting with Tammy's Mom and Dad on the night that her sister Denise came to such a tragic end. He was "on call" with the police that night, and has through that chance occurrence, come to be a part of the lives of those who loved Denise.

Throughout the service the sound of small children could be heard, and it was very possibly the greatest eulogy of all, because Mom had 4 daughters, and if I remember the numbers correctly, they produced 13 grandchildren for her, and those grandchildren have in turn produced 13 great grandchildren. (She was only 10 years older than I am, and I compare that with 2 sons and one grandchild that I have produced.) Mom touched the future with her children, and will continue to do so for many years to come. Many of those children were there to see her off, and she had great reason to be proud!

Things got out of order slightly with the way they were listed in the program, and so I was a little surprised when it came time for me to do my first song. But that was okay with me, because my stomach was churning as I was waiting, and wondering if I could hold my emotions in check while trying to sing, standing beside Mom's coffin. I really did want to "do her proud."

The first song was one that I was told was one of her favorites. However, I had never sung it before for her, so it was a good "ice breaker" for me. My father had always loved "The Old Rugged Cross." He sang it often and played it on his harmonica. I thought of him many times on this day. This was just one of them. Dotti told me that it went well, when I got back to my seat. I honestly don't remember much of it myself. The adrenalin had taken over, and it was the practice before and my desire to hold a straight course in choppy seas that dominated my actions. I only hoped that I was doing okay.

A little piece of unimportant snippet that lingers is that my path to the podium ran into the projector for the video slideshow. On each trip up and back, I had to break out of my internal focus upon the songs, in order to choose a route around it. I wanted to avoid walking in front of it and blocking the pictures, but a couple of times I didn't clear my thoughts in time and I did go in front, since it was the slightly easier path. Then on the other trips I remembered in time. It probably made little difference in either case, but it is a memory that stuck.

I sat down and my heart was racing. I did some (silent) deep breathing and got things back to normal. In the meantime the program irregularities worked themselves out, as a recording of a song named "Someday" was played, and the pastor went over Mom's life, and gave some consoling remarks. I remember his retelling of the story of Lazarus and mentioning some thoughts of Solomon, but sadly, much of it didn't sink in through my focus on the toughest thing I was going to have to do on this day.

Naturally, the time came quickly that I was going to have to face my greatest challenge. Mom and I had a history on this upcoming song. Tammy's sister Denise was murdered in 1996. Mom was never emotionally left very far from that event, especially during family gatherings, since family was nearly everything to her in life. Twice a year, Mom would ask for her song: Amazing Grace. Twice a year she would thank me as she squeezed my arm, with a look that came straight from her soul. That song was a bond between Mom and Denise, and I was drawn into it over and over again. Now, I was going to sing it one last time for Mom, if I could.

I got up front, slung my guitar over my shoulder, and took a deep breath. I said a few words that tried to express what was in my heart; I hope they weren't too unintelligible. I got a reassuring look from Tammy, and I took a look at Mom's casket with the floral spray covering it, and I started to go into "autopilot" again. However, this time, it was a song I had played hundreds of times, in the key of G. This time I was going to do it in the key of D. I hit the G chord instead of the D chord. Now this is not a showstopper type of mistake. The two chords actually work together pretty well, and it would be nothing to move back by hitting a D right afterwards. I did that, but alas the damage was done. My ear still hung onto G, and when I started to sing, I was in the wrong key. By the end of the second word, I was back on track, but most people thought my voice had cracked. Especially after seeing how emotional I felt before the start of the song. Instead it was my mind playing me false when I really needed it to help me out.

However, after that one gaff, I think the error might have actually helped for the rest of the way. I had one other place where I nearly lost where I was at, but fortunately that one I caught in time. But other than that, the song moved along okay, and I held it together emotionally until the end. (The Key of D was the right choice for my voice that day, but my memory said the Key of G.) All and all, I was very happy that I didn't just lose it while trying to sing. By rights, that is what should have happened. So, the little gaff wasn't so bad I guess. I did my best with what was a major challenge for me. Mom would have understood I'm sure.

I still had one more song to do, and I felt a migraine headache coming on. My migraines are not painful, they just cause temporary, and partial blindness. However, this is a big deal when you are trying to read something. Fortunately, I had medication with me that I could take for that, and I had a bottle of water that I was using between songs for my throat. So, took a pill and it did the trick. Enough minutes passed for the symptoms to clear before I had to go up again.

What happened here was an opportunity for family to get up and share some thoughts about the departed loved one. People don't like to stand up in front of others anyway (it rates higher than the fear of flying or any other common phobia) and then to do it when you are churning inside with unhappy emotions, it is just that much tougher.

But Misty Dawn, Jim and Tammy's very special daughter was eager to get up and share her feelings for her grandma. She shed a lot of tears, and took time to collect her thoughts, and Dotti stood right beside her the whole time to lend support, and to give her some help in case she needed it. Every heart in the building went out to Misty as she struggled to get her words out. But everyone clapped and there were many "thank you's" shouted out after she was done.

Misty had copied a poem to read, but she couldn't read it in her emotional state, and so Dotti read it out loud for her. Watching Misty so openly expressing her feelings was appreciated by everyone. She could do what many would have wanted to do.

Dotti said a few emotional words of her own, about how the love she had missed out on too often from her own mother, had been handed to her by Tammy's Mom, and how much that meant to Dotti. (Our family in Spokane is dear to us both!)

Tammy, thinking of the others in the room who were sad, assured the people there that Mom was ready to go. She had said her goodbyes, and her pain had been so terrible the last years that she needed permanent relief from it. She asked that we be happy for her rather than being sad.

There was some confusion in my mind on the last song, because I thought it would be played as people exited. However, it turned out not to be that way. So, for a third time I got up and played to a seated audience.

When Dotti's Mom passed away in 2004, there was a day or more that a vigil was held around her bed. During one bit of that time I was the one watching over her, and unlike her children, I didn't have a lot to talk over with her. She was more or less bordering on the conscious state anyway, and was not talking at all. But I could do something instead of just sitting there, I could sing. I sang a couple of songs, but the main one was Swing Low Sweet Chariot, because it seemed so appropriate. She seemed to like it. (She squeezed Dotti's hand when she asked her if she did. It was her only form of communication at that time.) After she died, I sang the song once more at the foot of her bed, with some family members around the bed. They later asked me to sing the song at her funeral as well. I didn't use my guitar, and I stood up front and I looked at a point on the back wall and just sang.

Now, here I was, having passed through the emotional upheavals of the funeral, and the songs, and with the thought of two Moms lying in peaceful patience in my mind as I struggled to sing a song that spoke of dying and going in "the chariot" with the "angels for to carry me home." I don't know how it went. I do remember looking at Dotti during the song, and we exchanged a look that said we both remembered the last time I had sung this song, and much more. I don't remember any major mistakes, and I know I was filled with emotion as I sang, but I could only rely on what others said, because memory fails me. I only wanted to say goodbye, and hopefully help just a bit as others were saying their goodbyes.

The 4 pallbearers (Mom was a tiny lady in physical size) were called together, and that included Jim and LeRoy. They took Mom outside and over to the gravesite, with a walking procession behind them.

I have a memory that is strong, but somehow disconnected in time, and/or sequence, but at one point, when the mourners were moving about in the chapel, Claudette (the girl who has been Caudy to me ever since she was 6 months old—and she lets me get away with it still because she knows it is said in love by her Uncle Al) came up to me at the front of the chapel almost at the exact same location that once before we had stood, and we had exchanged a very emotionally filled hugged. I am sure that it was in both of our minds that once again we were here in this same house of mourning, standing at nearly the exact same location, sharing our emotional grief: the first time to say goodbye to her little James who never had a chance to taste of the joys and sorrows of life; and this time to say goodbye to her grandmother. Words were not needed, just the physical embrace, and the tearful smile, said it all. (I always think of Caudy, whenever I hear the song "Turn Around," which tells the story of a father watching his young daughter far too quickly growing into a young woman with children of her own.)

Since I was at the front of the chapel, as this began, I slipped out a side door and worked my way around to the front where I could join Dotti where she was in the procession, not too far away from Tammy.

As it turned out, I ended up next to the pastor as well, and he said that I had sung two of his favorite hymns, and went on to tell me the history of Amazing Grace as we covered the final yards of our sad journey.

The bright sunny day had turned gray and dark while we were inside, as if the sky were mourning the loss as well. As Mom's coffin was laid upon the lowering device a few raindrops fell. I hadn't taken many pictures on this day, because I don't ever like to intrude on another's grief that way. But I was asked to take some pictures of the casket, and so I did. The funeral director came over to me and said that he had arranged the pallbearers in a way to help with setting up the pictures, and I thanked him. I also told him that the rain just seemed right for this event, far more so than the sunny day that we had as we drove to the cemetery.

The family members put roses on the casket and said their final goodbyes, and Dotti came over to me shortly after she had placed her rose, and said that she was unfortunately going to have to go inside because she was afraid to get her cast wet. I knew that she did not want to leave the group at that moment, and so I took off my suit coat and gave it too her. Deep in my thoughts about the funeral, I hadn't thought of doing it before, but once my coat was over her shoulders and the cast, all was well, and she could remain with Tammy and the other mourners as Mom was lowered into her final resting place. Seeing Dotti protected by my coat, warmed me far more than the coat ever could have.

Memories…some just jump out unrequested, and other fade into the shadows, and will only come out when someone else shines a light into their hiding place, by mentioning them. I have put some of mine here, and I know that they will not be the same ones other will have. But it will be a day that will not be forgotten by those in attendance for a long, long time. And whenever I play Amazing Grace in the future, I will have Mom in my mind, sitting quietly beside me listening. It could be no other way.

After such an emotionally crushing event, the human mind wants a release. The Irish Wake is perhaps the most up front method of dealing with the horrors of losing someone you love, but Jim and Tammy had a get-together at their home where the family could have a lighter time, and could try to start moving into the mode of doing more "normal things." We saw some people that we had not seen in many years. We met some people who we had never met before, but who we could tell would have been our friends if we had. (One of Mom's sisters said that she read my journal, even though we had never met, in order to keep up on what was going on in Tammy and Jim's life.)

When the day came to an end, I was completely exhausted.

Friday, as I already mentioned the four of us played miniature golf. When we finished that, it was time for dinner and we decided to have Mexican food. It put me over on points for the day (51.0 total) but not overall for the week.

Dotti and I went back to our room a little after 9 p.m. and let Tammy and Jim have the house to themselves, since all of the kids were absent for the evening, and we went back to the room and I went to sleep fairly soon. It has been a long week.

Since this is primarily a weight control journal, I will summarize this week in that area.

On the scale, I held fairly steady. I moved from 201.5 up to 204.0 but then came back down to 202.0 this morning. My average weight of 203.0 was identical with last week's average weight. I was up a half pound, but I ate a pretty heavy meal last night, so, I don't think that is significant. Considering the roller coaster ride we were on all week, I don't think this was bad at all.

For eating, I broke my string of weeks where I didn't go over my points (46.0). I went over on Monday (50.5) and on Friday (51.0). However, for the week, I averaged 41.0 points-per-day, which was identical with my average for last week. Since I felt good about what I had done last week, I feel even better about it this week, under these trying circumstances.

Dotti and I took a couple of short walks during the week, but nothing long enough to track. Hopefully next week I will do better on that.

The last time we came to Spokane for a funeral, we were snowed in for 3 days in The Dalles, Oregon in the Columbia Gorge on our trip home. I hope this time it will be a less eventful trip.

6 years, 15 days on my journey; a lifetime to follow.

-Al-
6 '3" 239.5/202.0/197.5±2.5/BMI:25.25/WK- 315

Starting weight: 239.5       Target Weight Range: 195 lbs to 200 lbs