Turning the Century

Every now and again we do something that attracts the admiration of some and makes us the laughingstock of others.  There’s skydiving, buying a motorcycle (or if you’re over 50 buying a Corvette convertible), scaling the face of El Capitan and most recently in my case, riding a bike 100 miles; in one day.  A few months back I signed up to do the Livestrong Challenge bike ride in Davis CA.  My co-worker across the hall expressed a fair amount of admiration.  My boss in the office next door thought I was nuts.  And that was more or less the mix; some thought admirable and others certifiable.    

Why We Ride: John

It was hard to hold a conversation.  He would speak a few words and then be interrupted by a cough; a wet, relentless cough, releasing a malicious fluid that gurgled up from deep within his failing lungs; a cough that convulsed his entire, now frail, body for what seemed minutes at a time.  The coughing seizures seemed to last for minutes and left him spent beyond the exhaustion brought on by the illness itself.  I was visiting John at Kaiser Hospital in Oakland.  John was dying.  I knew it, his friends knew it, his family knew it and John knew it.  By this point John was philosophical about it all.  John was dying of lung cancer.

31 Forgotten - and Remembered

There’s a saying, “It’s always the simple things that change our lives.”  For us maybe it’s the simple things that define our lives.

It’s the 7^th inning and the Giants are working hard at dropping a Sunday get away game to the visiting Oakland A’s.  Cora comes into the room and for some reason I remember that I should be remembering something.  That’s kind of how it works when you start getting up in age; you have to jog your memory to jog your memory; sort of a mental double clutching.

Another Giant looks at called strike three and then it comes to me.  I'm not even sure why it comes to me at this particular moment but I look at the date on my watch and then at Cora, “Uh, isn’t it our anniversary today?”

“May 20.”  It registers with her.  “Yeah; 31 years.”

“Happy anniversary,” I deadpan.

“Happy anniversary,” as she looks back at the score.
She starts to go back to what she was doing and I settle back to watch another Giant futility .