For eight years I worked for a man with MS in woody yet cultured Amherst, Massachusetts, and It was probably the best job I ever had. I would get up, make coffee, feed his cat, feed him, clean and dress him, get him up, put him back in bed, turn him back and forth, clean his house, and do his shopping; but mostly I would light his smokes.
While he smoked, he would talk. He used to be a musician, work in a hospital, and he loved to travel. He was a wild man in his youth, jumping trains across the country and playing in a band. Now he was stuck in bed with multiple sclerosis, unable to move in his mid 40's; still a young man in many respects. It was frustrating to him. Sometimes he would become angry; he would yell at his girlfriend and sometimes me. We always forgave him; he felt so powerless laying in that bed.
He turned me on to all kinds of music, Van Morrison, Cat Stevens, Tom Waits. We would watch "Star Trek The Next Generation", the "X-Files" and old Hal Asby films, like "Harold and Maude" and " Being There" He would send me out to get cigarrettes and scratch tickets, and talk about what he would do when his ship finally came in. When he got really high, he would tell me the same silly joke over and over again like it was the funniest thing in the world. " What do you call a fish with two knees"
His girlfriend was a card; she is one of those people who does not know how to end a conversation, so she just keeps going. I did not really mind that, because her tales were hilarious, and she was full of passion for life. She was, and hopefully still is, a magnificent cook, and a brilliant poet.
There were some bad times; it was obvious that somehow someone wanted to drive him out of there. This ridiculous home inspector would criticize the dust on the walls and one of his employees, without consulting anyone, took him to a mental hospital for an evaluation. Luckily, his parents got him out; but it made me furious; his only real wish for himself was that he would die in his own home. Another employee insisted he get a social worker, which he had been stalling on for years. He got a letter from a doctor saying he was on comfort care measures, and no one messed with him anymore.
Eventually I moved back to Maine with my mother, and he died a year later. I came back to visit him one last time before he died, right before his birthday, and lit him one last smoke. I was informed he passed away on his birthday, after a group of friends came to see him. When I found out, I was not sad; he had won.
Wow he sounds like a cool guy, must have been hard for him to give up his mobility after being so active. I have a similar situation with my mum although my Mum has ME, which is a bit different, I dont really understand it all anyway, but I help her out daily as she is so tired she cannot get out of bed much. She has the same kind of battle with authorities who dont seem to know what each other is doing. It can be a real mess and for someone who is so ill its immeasurably worse.
This is a really nice post, he spread some goodness in the world and I think its still going. He put you on to some awesome music and overall the post is positive, about looking forward but still being aware of both sides, a persons light and dark side, a light and dark side to life. He had a good effect on your life and in telling your story I think it has a good effect on others as well, it certainly has on me. Thats my take on things anyway :)
Sorry about you mother, so nice of you to help her the way you do. Yeah, he was a real character. He was always telling off color jokes and giving his slightly warped opinions on things; he watched Fox News way too much. I remember watching the second plane hit the World Trade Center on television with him. We were like; what the fuck! For the next two years we were obsessed with it; it was like it never ended.
Ugh sorrow I am off track, memory lane and all. He was definitely more light than dark, but he had a darkness thrust upon him by fate. They actually severed his nerves in the hospital to stop his convulsions; if you can believe it. Even if they came up with a cure he was not getting any mobility back.
Its given me a different perspective for sure.
This picture from the internet kinda shows how I feel:
She took care of me my whole life (still does in many ways) so its time to support her in her time of need :)
You are a good son.
sniff brings a tear to doggo's eye sniffing intensifies great story... now im sad lol heres a doggo meme to cheer you all up
Thank yous...
Oh this is a nice story
Thank you!!!!!
Wow men I defently in love with your art @twirble the way you capture the moment its magica. your paints remember to me as if they where painted from Edward Munch (skrik) or even Van Gogh
great work ;)
Thank you! I love Munch. My faces are kind of cubist- Sims lol
This is a great story, I also love the painting
Thank you:)
very touching post.
Thanks.
This was a great post Dania. Very well written. It was very poignant on my super bummer of a day. @twirble
Sorry KT, hope the bad feelings do not last to long.
REally nice writing style, Twirble!
Thank you. I just try to stay real.
keepin' it real :)~