Why can't I post??

For some reason, it seems hard to start a post.  I have to mess around with it, a LOT, before I can get my "curser" into the dialogue box.  Blogger seems to be having more and more issues, so I may have to switch my blog to a new place.  Which is sad... I've been here for many years now...

It's been some time since I posted.  Why?  Not because there hasn't been much going on.  Quite the opposite.  The plant activity has been substantial, but the life activity has been super-crazy.  My precious brother, Wes, was... well, dying of cancer.  There's not a pretty way to put that.  I went out to Indy to see him with Mom in January.  He was bone-thin, but he was still pretty active.  As in doing household stuff - not working, mind you, but still holding on to his routines. 

Things were getting a little "hairy" in late May, so Mom decided to go out and be there to do anything she could to help.  Sally has always depended on Wes to be the "take care of the home" guy so she had the energy and wherewithall to be the bread-winner.  I mean, Wes did work part time and was on disability, but Sally was the main income earner.  And because she has lupus, it zapped all of her energy to do that.  Thank God she was able to do that much!  So Mom went out to try to pick up the slack that was created by Wes's waning energy.  We got a yard service to do his mowing, which was a challenge, 'cuz Wes is picky!  (Which is ok...)

I went out again in June when Mom called me (one Sat. when I was at work!) and said, "If you want to see your brother, you need to come NOW!"  I flew out the next day, could only spend 3 days out there, then came back on Wed.  It was tough - he wasn't well at all.  Throwing up a lot.  Seemed utterly miserable.  Merry came out the day I left.  Mom asked me to tell him I'd be back out in August when we had a break at work.  I said the words, but I didn't believe he'd still be with us then.  

The weeks passed with a lot of calls, tears...  Some days were not terrible (glimmers of hope?), others I could hear the utter sadness in Mom's voice.  I would talk to him occasionally - I didn't want to add to his misery.  Talking seemed to exacerbate his cough.  It was a quandry because he seemed to enjoy the conversations, but soon he would be having coughing fits. 

The last visit - I went out on 8/19, a Monday.  OMG, he was SO bone-thin.  It was painful to see him that way, but oh-so-good to have another visit with him.  I was sure this wasn't going to happen, so it was a blessing.  Honestly, I thought he wouldn't make it through that week.  But the weekend got closer and I realized I had to get back.  Employees would be waiting for their payroll checks. Bills had to be paid.  I'd made appointments.  So Sunday morning, I was leaving early.  I'd planned to get up around 4:45 - we needed to leave around 6:00 to be at the airport by 6:30ish.  But Sally was up.   Wes was wanting some morphine and haldol - the morphine (of course) for pain and haldol is to relax.  (I'm sure it can make you panic not being able to breathe well...)  Anyway, Sally told me I should probably go tell him "goodbye" since he would probably be really "out of it" once he took these drugs.

That was the toughest "goodbye" I've ever said.  This was the big one - the "I'll see you on the other side" one.  It was tough, heart-wrenching.  And then he wanted to talk to Mom.  Sally thought he was confused that Mom was leaving, too, as she usually comes out with either me or Merry.  But that wasn't it - he was ready to say his "goodbyes" to her, too.  He knew this was it, I think - that these may be his last coherent moments.  Leaving was one of the hardest things I've ever done, knowing the end was so near. 

I got the call Monday afternoon, about 36 hours after those goodbyes, that Wes had passed.  Knowing what he was going through, it was a relief to know he had released from that shell that had haunted him his whole life since 17 with medical issues.  But oh, how I'm going to miss him. 

If you’re lucky, a few times in your lifetime you’ll meet someone who leaves you with a feeling of gratitude for having met them.  These kind of people aren’t necessarily famous or extraordinary in a way that brings them mass popularity, but the people whose lives they do touch feel better for having known them.  Wes is one of those people, and I’m betting everyone who knows Wes knows exactly what I’m talking about.

Other than Mom, I’m probably the one person who has known Wes longer than anyone.  I was about 2-1/2 when he was born.  I don’t really remember them bringing him home like I kind of do Merry, but I do remember a particular protective love I had for him at a very early age.  I’m sure we probably had to have had some of the usual brother/sister clashes, but to be honest, I don’t really remember any negative quarrels at any time in our history.  Hard to imagine siblings not having some head-butting, I know, so I’m not sure if I have simply blocked those memories, or if they were all very insignificant.  But I always felt closer to Wes than almost anyone else I can ever remember.  I’ve always said he is one of my soulmates.

Wes is the kind of guy who would do anything for anyone, even if it meant stretching beyond his comfort zone.  He seemed to know quite a lot about everything, and if he didn’t know and you were asking, he’d find out.  It’s his nature to be curious.  Mark has been known to say, jokingly, “Why does he clutter his mind up with all that information!?”  LOL... Well, 'cuz he can't stand NOT knowing, I guess!  When he'd come back for a visit, he would spend time "cleaning up" Mom's computer - defragging, making sure her virus protection and stuff was up to date.  He did little odd jobs around her house, helped her with things she saved for his visits.  He made the best fixit guy ever. 

Anyway, this is why it's been such a quiet summer on my blog.  It's been a crazy busy summer just in shear number of jobs at work, then add to that Mom being gone since May, so I was pretty much running the show alone.  Then when I would have time that could be spent here, my sad feelings that Wes was fading from this life would have probably been all I could write about.  And I didn't want all those sad feelings memorialized.  I don't want to remember these last 8 or 9 months with that much clarity.  I'd rather just keep the memories of the 51 years before that close to my heart and let these months fade...

Now that he's gone and the "going" part is done, I can share little stories, and remember times with fondness. 

To Wes and his transition into source - I know you're here and our love transcends all of this worldly stuff.  I'd say "we'll be together soon", but we ARE together.  I love you with every fiber of my being!