How Did I Do?

In my last post, now almost half a year ago, I realized that that tables had turned, at least somewhat, on me and my Mom as I sat at the foot of her hospital bed. What I did not know then was that, while I did not expect it to be the beginning of the end for her, it actually was. I thought on more than one occasion of things I could write, but they never turned into anything worthy of sharing. So I remained silent for these almost six months.

So on Sunday, November 4, only two days from her 73rd birthday, she breathed her last breath after walking a downward path of failing health until the last three weeks or so were spent entirely in bed. Yesterday, prior to going to the funeral, I wrote the following. I’m sure that, had I taken more time, there might be better things to say, but this is what came out and I share it with you.

Turn of Events

About a week ago, I spent almost an hour sitting at the foot of a hospital bed while its occupant slept.

During the time, I was reminded of a time when I, as a 6-year old, spent four nights in the hospital for some surgery. Every morning, when I awoke, at the foot of the bed, sitting in a chair, was my mother. I really don’t recall a whole lot about the days there in the hospital, but I also don’t recall any of them in which she wasn’t right there in the room with me.

As that recent hour drew toward an end, the phone in the room rang. I got up and answered it, and as I talked briefly, my mother turned toward the phone and said, “Mike!” having assumed that the person sitting in the chair was my dad.

English is a Dead Language

I remember marveling (in horror) at the page-long sentences I was encountering while reading James Fenimore Cooper in junior high school. While we were able to understand what was written, that was the extreme, at least in terms the literature to which we were exposed. When writing our own essays and theme papers, the rules were “no short sentences” and “no ‘to be’ verbs.” In short, you needed just a little Cooper in your blood to successfully write to the satisfaction of the typical English teacher.

That probably sounds like the Dark Ages to some. While it is accepted that all languages change over time, the past 40 years, and more accurately, the last 10 years, have seen great changes in informal English, if not also in formal English.

It's Quiet

Even when they went back to their own rooms to listen to music, do homework, or whatever, there was always some noise – usually just hints from the sub-woofers on their computer’s sound system, but nonetheless, noise. Several years ago, it decreased a little when the first one went away to college. But with a change in majors coupled with the decision to change schools – back to the Metroplex – things returned to normal.

A year and a half later, the second, although already in college, decided to change to one out of town. Again, the house began to become quieter. Then he announced last summer that he would probably stay in Lubbock this coming summer and either take some additional classes or work on an internship.

Last week saw the biggest change yet.