It was so good to see Robert this morning. It’s always a great time to get together to share breakfast to share conversation to share our lives. Robert is one of the Tulsa triumvirate. One of three friends I met in the seventies during my first Tulsa pilgamage, and maintain a relationship with today. Robert, Brad, and Nancy.  Three friends that were in high school when I met them in the late 70s and now are just flat-out good good friends

Robert’s the one from out of town. So we don’t get to share face-to-face that often but I’m always blessed when we do.  Conversations about what we’re doing, what we’ve done, and what we might do. He’s always busy when he returns to Tulsa so our time together is precious and compacted and usually over coffee at a Starbucks but this morning it was at his hotel over the morning breakfast bar.

Robert and I are frequent conversants on Facebook and occasional conversations are made by the phone. Whatever time it is, it is treasure when we get together and get to spend time face-to-face.  Even when we occasionally annoy one another, our time is treasured.  And so it was this morning at the Hampton Inn South in Tulsa Oklahoma. 90 minutes of one-on-one time. And our first visit since I lost my beloved dog Tank Fulton. Robert has lost his longtime companion dog Bob named for Bob Newhart several years back. So he was familiar with the loss of a close fur friend Bob, been his dog since he was a Schoolboy.

We talked about my loss and I shared with him that I now understood what it meant when a person has and irreplaceable dog.   I was happy to have my other dogs but it’s true you can’t replace a dog that has been 13 year companion.

On a lighter side we talked about creative projects He was involved in.  Robert is an actor and has appeared in many movies you have seen and I have seen along with many national commercials. A successful character actor, a writer,  a confidante and so much more.

Coincidentally on this Sunday morning in the hotel breakfast area the television was tuned to CBS Sunday Morning. There were stories on the backdrop of the wall as we chatted, really none of them caught my eye nor my attention.  And then the story started about Art Garfunkel. Yes the Art Garfunkel of Simon & Garfunkel Fame.  The Art Garfunkel of my favorite pop Folk rock Duo the 60s and 70s..

The television was on low-volume so it really didn’t interrupt our conversation but I must admit it provided a distraction for that moment that I just didn’t see coming. A cutaway to Simon & Garfunkel performing one of my favorite songs “Old Friends”..

This was our song. Not Robert’s and my song. But this was the song of my dog journey with Tank Fulton.  It became our song one foggy morning at a dog park in Georgetown, Texas…. 2010.

Shared on this blog in 2013.

https://casacaninetulsa.com/2013/12/20/tank-my-friend/

Old friends sat on a park bench like bookends… Can you imagine us years from today, sharing a park bench quietly…..

And just like that the grief Came Upon me. It was at that moment I knew. No matter what else happened in my life. No matter how many other dogs I spend my life with and loving, Tank could never be replaced.

I would never look into his eyes. I would never smell him again. I would never hold him again. He would never lick my face. I was overcome by the realization of never.

It was at that moment that I realized that grief is my conveyance for navigating the Never.

Through my tears I said it out loud to my friend Robert. A person who cares for me and was ready to listen. And this is what I said.

Tank is irreplaceable.  Because no matter what happens in the rest of my life, the likelihood of me having a daily relationship with somebody for 13 years again is unlikely. Even if it were to start today.  And Tank was my everyday guy for 13 years.   Fred and Shelly have been with me for 4 years, check back in 9 years.  And regardless of when the next great companion comes along… on 2 legs or 4, there will never be the connection I had with my wife who died and who was the rescuer of Tank. I will never ever get to live in that connection again. And so today and every day going forward will just be different. Not bad, not sad, not horrible, not filled with regret or tragedy.  Just different.  And currently there are limited ways to visit this moment in time.

Today I learned how to navigate the Never.

Grief will be a vehicle for that Journey.

At least it was today.

People Die

Dogs Die

Living things Die

I saw my Father for the last time in October, 1990, I believe.  I shared some of my growing up pains and sufferings.  I spoke to him in a small way about his.  It was the first conversation of that kind I can recall.. I was 40, He was 70.  Three months later he fell, hit his head, and died within 48 hours, thousands of miles away.  At his memorial service I saw members of his family, including his mother–my grandmother, who I did not even know was still alive.  Along with his siblings who I had not seen in decades.  Uncle John.  Aunt Betty.

And when they die, I will no longer stare at the dead person and say anything to them, and get a response.  Whatever it is you want to say or do or express… do it before they die.  I had no idea that when I walked out of the house in 2009, I would return to find my wife dead, drowned in the bathtub.  I never spoke to Michelle again.  But I did speak with her family and friend.

I knew my Mother was about to die when I saw her last in 2013.  I said what I said.  I was clumsy and loving.   And when she passed I joined with family members in a celebration of her unbelievable life.

I love my life.  I am a believer that I am involved in an eternal process.  It is my hope that you might also understand your eternal options.  But for now this is about me and my life in the flesh, and what I do on “this side of eternity” as my Mom might say.  “We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.”  But now, for this time, it is a moment for the living.  And I believe that there are important things to do… maybe not for you.  But I want to do something that I deem to be important.

But I am going to die… don’t know when.  Pretty sure I will finish writing this…..but I do have a couple of projects and errands to run first.

I write often about grief.  For years I had NO idea what that meant.  I did not grieve when someone died… I mean I might get sad.  But grief.  I had no idea.  And I guess I thought it was a sign of weakness, or unnecessary, or—hell I don’t know.  I just know I thought it was probably a more serious sad.  And I would get sad about stuff, but rarely did I get my “third degree black belt” in emotionally challenged and prolonged sadness.  Not when my Dad died, or wife, or Mom.  And certainly not when a friend or someone else’s family member passed.

Death would come…I would at some point have to say something to some family member and I would comment “sorry for your loss.”  I do not judge that statement by the way.  But for me it was a band-aid.  A covering for my absence of feeling,  I could move on.  Sorry…for your loss.

I don’t know when this happened exactly.  I am good at remembering details.  I rarely am able to connect them to a timeline.  It happened sometime in the last couple of years… it happened after I moved to Tulsa and Casa Canine.

As many of you know, I am a believer.  I read the Bible.  I am not much of a preacher.  But I hope I a much of an exampler… (spell check does not like that word–sorry for your loss spell check, I am using it).

I believe I am created in the image of God… I believe we all are.  I believe if you want a picture of God I should get about 10,000 of us in a room and use a long selfie-stick to snap a picture.

So one day I see that God was grieved… What??   “How often they rebelled against him in the wilderness and grieved him in the wasteland! 41Again and again they put God to the test; they vexed the Holy One of Israel.”  God was not saddened… He was grieved.  And I am in His image.  And so I began a journey.  A journey in search of my lost grief.  If grief is good enough for God… well you get the drift..

I continue to search.  Grief is a life force.  I have written of this before.  It is Holy Ground.  I am just beginning to understand.  I am so grateful for this element.  And I will share more through the days.  And omg, I have experienced grief in my life now.

And sharing in grief is so important.  For me, and for those grieving.  So during my time of reflection and meditation, I asked for wisdom and words.  Words that mean something to the delivered as well at to that person I deliver to.  “Sorry for you loss” would cut it no more. But I did NOT want to be at a loss for words……

I wanted to do something important.  I want to say something I believe.  So many of my friends will see this phrase I share after I hear of a loss.

“I sorrow in your sorrow, I grieve with your grief, and when appropriate, I will smile with your remembrance.”

I am thankful I am a man of constant sorrow… I rejoice in this life.  May your grief ultimately bring you richness and peace.

It was the quinquennial gathering.  In the reunion infancy it would occur every 10 years, but since anniversary 25, it now is an every 5 year event.  Baby boomer Yellowjackets from around the country begin to energize and swarm, and for two hot August nights they swarm to Kansas City to experience a rebirth.  It is the return to the hive.  Like spawning salmon, we swim upstream, and return to remember, to laugh, to cry, to share, to relive moments of glory.  Who could ever have know when we sang these words together for the last time as a group, graduation night, June 5, 1969, that they would be so prophetic.   At least for me.

“Hail oh Center High School, We will all be true, to the colors high above us, Gold and Blue,  Memories everlasting through the coming years, we will always treasure them                Through Laughter and through tears”

And so it was this past weekend, the swarm of Yellowjackets, Center High, Kansas City, Mo. class of ’69

1969, We are the class of ’69.  We loved being able to say that.  Or at least I loved saying it. After all, those from the class of 1869, have long passed.  And the graduates of 2069, well they are not even a twinkle.  So we are the only living class of ’69.  The world should cherish us… I certainly do.  We were special, we remain special, just slightly older than we were, but we are constant in age as the class of 69..  I must confess I did look around the reunion room and wonder where all the “old folks” came from.  But boy did I love being with them for 2 days.

1969, the end of the 60’s.  That was who we were.  It is who we are.  So much I could remember… “Abraham, Martin, and John.”  Vietnam.   Man on the Moon.  The Beatles at Municipal Stadium.  The Chiefs.  The A’s.  So many memories… so many things forgotten.  And then it is reunion time and the stories revive and come alive.  Some stories grow as legends, some are just a reason to smile, and seemingly with each notch in the 5-year reunion belt there are more stories that might include tears or trigger grief.

One of my memories was of Saturday afternoons.. particularly as the weather would become more inviting for indoor activity.  I still hear the voice of Jim McKay, “Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of sport, the thrill of victory….the agony of defeat…the human drama of athletic competition.”   The thrill… the agony… it is a part of my lexicon.  And so it is magnified, or more correctly given renewed life and realized mortality with the passing of each reunion event.

Though many choose to join the event, there are so many who choose not to come.  They are actually missed.  I know because even the most “obscure” fellow graduates are included and welcomed and enjoyed.  People choose not to come for many reasons… I pray that feeling awkward in the group would not be one of those reasons to choose not to come.  This is one loving and inclusive group of “friends.”  Even if only for 2 days, every 5 years.

Through Laughter and through tears.

I must say, it seems that laughter does abound when we gather.  I am so joyful as I join to share moments with friends now, that have been friends for life. Friends that include though not exclusive too… Ric, Curtis, Joanna, Don, Sydna, Paula, Clay, Pat… folks and friends who have endured and supported my nonsense, my quirkiness,  and my love and my life for decades.

Through Laughter and through tears.   The thrill, the agony…….

And to see friends that I graduated with who were only acquaintances in 1969.  And now because of social media like Facebook, there has grown a special “love connection” It was beyond special to see some friends who have invaded my heart in only the last year or two.  Ann, Pam, Lynn, Gary… thanks for becoming a part of my present day joy.  (And Scarecrow, I love you most of all…. you know who you are!)

What a glorious time for me.  I am not much of a social butterfly, except in this moment.  “remind me who you are”  let us share our history.  As vaguely remembered as it might be, it IS remembered.

Because even if we had nothing else in common.  We had shared hallways and carhops.

Through Laughter and through tears,   The thrill and the agony…

So I have shared my laughter, and my thrill.   My laughter and the thrill…   What of tears and agony?

For the first time in my life I faced my sense of mortality.  Don’t get me wrong..  I have experienced the grief of my Mother’s passing in the last year.  I came home in 2009, to find my wife dead, drowned in our bathtub.  I know terrible and sad events.  I have just begun to  understand the grieving process..  But for whatever the reason… mortality never affected me… until this weekend.

On Saturday morning, between reunion events,  I visited the VA hospital in Kansas City.  I went to visit one of my classmates who had become a Facebook friend but had disappeared from my sight about 2 years ago.  I had know idea why.  Garrett is very ill.  I looked in his eyes.  We spoke for an hour.  He “was” me.  A seemingly healthy middle aged guy.  Now he clings to life in a 105 pound body.  Garrett is the first “me” I have ever looked in the eyes to reveal my mortality.  And I agonized for him.  Even if he did not ask me to agonize.   Because there but by the grace of God, go I.

And Saturday night, I wept openly and without shame at the reunion while I visited “the board”.  I grieved for my friends who could not choose to attend the reunion.  And so, “the board”,  the memorial board… I grieve for the passing of friends I will not see again on this side of the curtain.  I was a man of sorrow.  And I realize that in five years we will need a bigger board.

I am sorry I missed seeing you at this reunion Angie…

Memories everlasting, Through Laughter and through tears

The song lives on..

May you live on also.