Dateline: somewhere between neglect and insanity.
Yes, it has been a long time since I’ve posted. In fact, it’s been months. A lot has happened since then, particularly lately, so I thought I’d write something of an update post. My last post, “Living in Ecstasy,” about my landlord’s Rolls Royce was meant to have a follow-up post, and perhaps I’ll write that some day. But for now, here’s what I’ve been up to.
In early May, just after being more-or-less dumped by Cupcake Boy, I met a real man (>35 y/o), “Luis,” who I’ve been seeing ever since. On our first date, we hit it off. Without prompting, he announced he doesn’t own a TV, loves NPR, especially Terry Gross’ “Fresh Air,” which he knows from having lived in Phoenix for a few years, and is also doing “A Course in Miracles,” something I’m inching through myself. Though younger than me, Luis is at least within shooting distance. If you use a twelve-gauge, that is. We’ve been dating since we met, exclusively, and things are going well, though we’ve had a few ups and downs, as is normal.
Luis is an architect, a Chilango, though not by birth. When I met him, he was working on a complex public works project. At the end of August, his contract was through, and he decided to come with me to Boston, just to help me celebrate my birthday, get a chance to see the place, and generally hang out. As for me, I needed to return to my native soil to do various errands around the house, pay certain bills, and generally look after the place.
After a few weeks, Luis decided he loved Boston and wanted to find a job there. It’s not a tough sell. We can live together in my house, the city has a ton to offer, and with the collapse of the peso, even a crappy job in the USA pays literally multiples of what he could make in Mexico. And unusually for a Mexican, he claims to love cold weather. Add to that his eligibility for an easy-to-get “TN” visa under NAFTA for qualified professionals such as architects, and it’s something of a no-brainer. He hasn’t found a job yet, but we’ll see what happens. So I’ve basically been in Boston since late August, though still renting my apartment in Roma Sur, CDMX.
Soon enough, the holidays rolled around, time for my annual trip to Northern California to see my parents, siblings, and old friends. Since it was no longer just me, the calculus of the trip, where to stay, and a bunch of other things changed. What to do? I defaulted to my normal first-order decision-making process: procrastination. So we spent a lot of time talking about flights, whether we should fly to SFO then to Mexico City, or go back to Boston. Luis was also starting to waver about the wisdom of working in Boston, so that added yet another element of uncertainty. Meanwhile, airline tickets were rising in price and starting to sell out. Rental car rates also had approximately doubled from last year.
What if we drive? Compared with a trip to Mérida on a variety of Mexican highways and byways, a coast-to-coast drive on US interstates didn’t seem all that challenging. And on a cost basis, it compared very favorably to flying two people and renting a car. On the other hand, it also seemed a smidgen insane. While we would not have to contend with narco-gangs, we faced a much more certain danger: snow. The default Google map directions would have taken us through Kansas City, Denver, then west along Highway 80, through southern Wyoming, then into northern Nevada, before having us cross Donner Pass by Lake Tahoe and then descending into the Sacramento Valley. My initial thought was that this would be doable for a few seemingly-good reasons. It’s still early in the season. In Boston, at least, snow is rare before Christmas. The places along the way get plenty of snow, so they’re prepared to deal with it. I had images of hourly plowing and salt application, with messy, but passable roads.
As it turns out, all these reasons were pretty harebrained. A friend confirmed that west of Denver, there’re often debilitating blizzards that close the interstates. Some quick internet research confirmed this. I would also have been required to carry chains, something that I don’t own. Nor would they have fit. We decided to drive across country in my 230SLK, something the size of a Miata. As it turns out, every single square inch of trunk space was accounted for, and even then we had to gently force the trunk closed. Nope. I didn’t want to deal with chains. Or snow.
So we decided to drive the sensible, southern route. We left the morning of Wednesday the fourteenth, and over the course of a few days, passed through Hartford, Pittsburgh, Columbus, Indianapolis, St. Louis, Oklahoma City, and through the Texas Panhandle. We then spent the night in Shamrock, Texas, about 100 miles east of Amarillo.
From there, we drove west, hoping to pass through Albuquerque. Alas, the Goddess of the Road didn’t like that plan. As we reached Tucumcari, NM around 10:30 AM, we encountered a gate across the interstate. The highway was closed. No one seemed to know anything as to why, or when it might reopen.
Fortunately, it was early in the day, and we had come upon the gate probably less than a half hour after it was closed. So we turned around and went into Tumcumcari, had lunch, and tried to figure out what to do. At lunch, Yolanda, our waitress informed us that there was a 40-car pile-up beyond the gate. Given that the snow had been very light (less than 2″), and that we hadn’t seen a single cop in the entire state, we figured the road could be closed for a long time. We immediately booked a motel.
It turns out that was the smart move. As the day wore on, the town filled with trucks, truckers, trailers, and hapless automobile travelers such as ourselves. Motels sold out, and that evening (with the highway still closed) we found it almost impossible to get out of the Denny’s parking lot due to the enormous trucks everywhere we looked. In fact, it seemed like the entire town was full of big rigs.
The next morning dawned bitterly cold (-2°F/-19°C), but clear. Luis was happy that I had forced him to pack gloves and a hat. The highway had been reopened, but the traffic remained. But after we had packed and eaten breakfast, the worst of the jam was gone. So we continued on.
As we drove, we saw mangled trucks, crumpled cars, skid marks, and all the signs of past disaster. I was astonished that the authorities had allowed such mayhem to occur. Very little snow had fallen, but if the streets in the city were any gauge, someone was scrimping on salt and plowing. In all of Massachusetts, such a dusting would have hardly caused a fender bender. There, the authorities put down salt before snow even starts to fall, and then follow up every couple of hours as needed. But in New Mexico, laisser faire became a disaster.
Worse for me, while in New Mexico, I learned that my 88 year old stepfather was in the hospital, with a very vague diagnosis. His heart was weak, he wasn’t eating, and had swelling in his legs. Though it wasn’t shocking, the timing was a little surprising. He had sounded fine when I called on his birthday two weeks prior, and my mother had not mentioned anything unusual. His health had certainly been slowly failing for some years though. Tied to an oxygen tank, he suffered a constellation of problems common to some older folks: COPD; blood pressure issues; weak heart; several pacemakers; and the like. Indeed the fact that he had made it to 88 at all was something of a miracle. Suddenly, the need to get to California quickly became my dominant concern, and we pushed it, driving 700 miles or more a day.
After five days on the road, we made it to Redding, CA, where my mother and stepfather live. That was Monday the nineteenth. We hightailed it to the hospital. My stepdad didn’t look good, but he was happy to see me. I finally got to talk to his doctor. The prognosis wasn’t good. He had heart failure, which basically means the heart doesn’t pump enough blood. This leads to edema (swelling) of the legs, weakness, fatigue, and related symptoms. The doctor also said he likely had bladder cancer, definitely had internal bleeding, and the cancer had probably started to migrate to his pancreas. Not good.
Over the following days, various decisions were made. Surgery was out, as stepdad was too weak to survive it. Nor did he want any extreme measures to keep him alive. No fool, he had realized his time was coming, and he had put his affairs in order. After consultation with his own children, we all decided that he should come home, but under hospice care. We would try to make him comfortable, but would not treat him beyond that.
Friday morning, the 23rd, we took delivery of a hospital bed, and various other paraphernalia associated with home care. For lack of any other good place, the bed got set up in the living room. Stepdad came home a few hours later, but wanted to sit in his favorite armchair instead of being in the bed. His son came up from the Bay Area, and neighbors dropped by to visit. He even ate some ice cream, a small victory for us. Things looked like he’d have a few weeks to a couple months at home to slowly die and say good bye. Only days before, the doctor had given him 4-6 weeks of expected remaining life.
But the fates had their own plans. And maybe they were better than ours. Within six hours, stepdad had managed to slip out of his chair and onto the floor a couple of times. It was surprisingly difficult to get him back, as he had no strength of his own. He pulled out his oxygen line a couple times too. By 10:45, Luis and I were watching television with him when I noticed that he was unusually quiet. I went to look at him. His hands were cool. No pulse. No detectable breathing. Six hours after getting home, he was dead.
The next few hours involved various phone calls, a nurse visit to certify a natural death, and then a pair of creepy undertakers an hour later. My mother, who typically falls asleep in front of the TV by 8:00 PM was up until 1:30, utterly exhausted. We too were a little frayed, still recovering from the 5-day drive.
Now we’re all trying to deal with the new reality. I’ve told my mother that I’ll stay here at least six weeks. Beyond that, we’ll have to see what works for everyone. My mother is elderly too, 86, and I question how much sense it makes for her to live alone. For now, though, we are just grieving and recouping our strength. I’m fine, but my mother caught a bad cold and is still recovering. I’m doing my best to pamper her, cooking and cleaning, running errands, etc.
As for what the future holds, we’ll see. For now, we can thank the mysterious forces that conspired to make me drive here, leaving me with a car, flexibility, and an open-ended return.
Saludos and thanks for stopping by.
¡Feliz Año Nuevo!
P.S. If you comment, please keep in mind that my mother reads this blog.
Writing From Merida said:
Hello Kim, I have missed you online but I assumed (correctly) that you’ve had important things going on in your life.
Jorge and I send our condolences on the passing of your stepdad. But as you said, his end was as peaceful as it could have been. He must have been wanting to get home, and for sure, yours and Luis’ presence is what convinced the doctors to allow him to leave the hospital. Now your mother will have a lot to cope with, but she has you with her. That too must have eased your stepfather’s mind in his final hours.
I am happy for you (really happy) that you have found someone who loves you. It makes all the difference in the world. Please give Luis a big hug from all of us in Merida.
Now I am on to read the post you wrote yesterday… surely more commentary after that. Be well, my friend.
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Kim G said:
Hola Joanna!
Thanks for the kind words. I think you’re right about my stepdad; we all think he was hanging on until he felt like things were under control. Given everything, 88 was a long, full life for him. He’s given a lot, especially to me, and I’m missing him already. Saludos y un abrazote!
P.S. I’m not sure why you went to moderation. New credentials?
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Penny said:
Sorry to hear of all this! Sounds like you have managed in quite an extraordinary way! p
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Kim G said:
Hola Penny! Thanks. I’m doing my best. Saludos y un abrazo.
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Steve Cotton said:
Well, amigo, what can I say? Like me, you rely heavily on rationality, and use it as a very convenient cloak for the emotions that boil beneath. I cannot say I know how you feel, though. God has made each of us so individually that what we feel is what we alone feel. But I can wish you comfort. Losing someone as close as your stepfather is always a jar. No matter what we rationalize about death. And, as a friend, I am sorry you are now in that zone.
My brother and I had a long discussion about my mother’s future. At 88, she still lives alone, but we both noticed on this visit to Mexico that she is starting to have more difficulty dealing with life’s requirements. I will be interested in what you decide.
When you return to Mexico, you know you are always welcome here for a visit.
May the contentment of the new year be yours.
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Kim G said:
Hola Steve,
I think you’re right about my rationality, and at times it’s overwhelming for others who simply want to be emotional. That said, I cried a lot the Tuesday before stepdad’s death, so I processed through a lot of the emotion already. But he was an important person in my life, and I already miss him. My mother seems to be doing surprisingly well, at least emotionally. As for her ability to live alone, we shall see. I just want whatever’s best for her long-term happiness.
As for México, I’ll definitely be back; it’s only a matter of time. As for visiting you, it’s high on my list, particularly under “things to do in the winter,” haha.
Saludos y un gran abrazo.
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florentinogutierrezr said:
Dear Kim, Though it is very sad to hear about your loss, I think that you’re very fortunate that the angels made your trip to California safe and fast so that you could see your stepdad alive and be a strong, loving presence for your mother when she most needed to be comforted. I’m also very glad that you had the company of Luis all along, it sure seems that you guys are making each other the best of companies. I wish you the best for this 2017 and I wish we could meet. Let me know if you plan to come back to Mexico or if you pass by the Lone Star State. Hugs.
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Kim G said:
Hola Tino,
Thank you for the very kind message. I’ve mostly processed through my stepdad’s death, but of course still miss him a lot. He was a very important person in my life, so he will be missed. As for Mexico, I’ll definitely be back; it’s only a question of when. And when I do, I’d love to meet up. Saludos y un gran abrazo.
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William said:
Kim,
My condolences to you and your family on the loss of your stepfather.
Take care, and have a good new year.
Saludos,
Bill
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Kim G said:
Hola Bill,
Thank you very much. We are still working through things, but the healing process has started.
Saludos y un gran abrazo.
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Andean said:
My condolences to you and your family.
Te deseo mucho amor, salud, y felicidad en 2017!
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Kim G said:
Hola Andean,
Thanks for the condolences. I appreciate them and the comment. May you too be blessed with love, health, and happiness for a wonderful 2017! ¡Feliz Año Nuevo!
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tancho said:
Hola Kim,
Sorry for your families loss, fortunate that you were able to see him and bring him home to familiar surroundings. Peace and love to your family.
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Kim G said:
Hola Tancho. Thanks for the condolences. We are all trying to heal. Saludos and Feliz Año Nuevo.
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babsofsanmiguel said:
Wow! What an amazing circuitous journey you have been on since we last were in contact. Blessings that your step-dad has passed on with no more pain or suffering. I know it is hard for all, but again what an incredible thing that you were there and are there! It reminds me that I sometimes think there is a GRAND plan that we have
no idea is actually guiding us. Four friends of mine in your mother’s age range have moved to retirement homes and are, truly, having the time of their lives – their words. They no longer have to cook, can do anything they want and still have their own privacy with none of the angst of home ownership. My thoughts and heart are with you as you walk this road. IF I can do anything, please don’t hesitate to let me know. A gran abrazo to you and Luis………..
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Kim G said:
Hola Barbara!
Yes, I think the “grand plan” is what put me here in a car. As for a retirement home, I’d love to see my mother playing cards with friends in assisted living in Ajijic, enjoying the warm weather with new friends. But I don’t think that’s her fantasy. So we’ll see. Thanks so much for the offer of help. I might take you up on it. Saldos y Feliz Año Nuevo.
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Felipe Zapata said:
Good Lord! What a sequence of events. The old Chinese curse, May you live in interesting times, comes to mind. I send a cyber-hug to you, your mother and even Luis. May brighter days dawn in the not-too-distant future.
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Kim G said:
Hola Felipe,
Thanks for the cyber-hug. It was indeed a strange chain of events, but worked out remarkably well. Saludos y Feliz Año Nuevo.
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Barbara Lane said:
Hola Kim,
I’ve missed you here and was so happy to see you back this morning. When I opened your post the photo made me laugh out loud. Then as I read i was chagrined for having laughed. I am sorry to hear about your step-dad. When one goes quickly, particularly when a multitude of problems present and there is no hope to regain full, robust life, I call it drawing The Mercy Card. Still, such a heart wrenching thing. This once again proves timing is Divine and you and your family are blessed for this time together. I know you know.
Vaya con Dios to step-dad, and may you, your mother, and extended family find solace in this difficult time. How lovely you have Luis to comfort you. If you two ever get a hankering to come to San Miguel de Allende a welcome respite awaits.
I wish you and yours the best year yet.
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Kim G said:
Hola Barbara,
No worries about laughing. Life is full of absurdities, and laughter is indeed the best medicine. Stepdad wouldn’t have wanted us to be sadly moping about the house after his passing. And yes, I think he got the mercy card, as did we all. I was committed to staying here and caring for him, but the chair incident showed me just how difficult such a thing might become. I’m thankful he’s at peace now. So you’re now in SMA? Congrats. I wish you the best for 2017. Saludos.
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Barbara Lane said:
Si, in mi dream home. And you and yours are welcome anytime!
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Kim G said:
Hola Barbara, Wow! Congratulations! I’m ecstatic for you.
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Croft Randle said:
Kim, so sorry to hear of your stepfather’s passing. Timing wise it was good that you were there, exhausting drive notwithstanding. Your mother will be happy to have you around for a while. Have as best a Happy New Year as you can under the circumstances. – Croft & Norma
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Kim G said:
Hola Croft & Norma,
Thanks for the condolences. I’m indeed happy that it happened when I was here. I’m very thankful I could see him one last time. He was a big influence in my life, and I wouldn’t be the person I am today without his support and guidance. May he rest in peace. Saludos.
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Lee Steele said:
Your post today touches us in particular because we came back from Mexico just in time to say goodbye to my partner’s mother. She had stopped eating during our three-week long trip, but it was hard to know from afar if she had just given up living, or if she had lost her appetite. Then came the stroke, two weeks after we returned. A week after that, she was gone. She would have loved Mérida. I had the honor of writing her obituary for the newspaper, and doing so, it occurred to me how over the course of 20 years, I went from “not invited into the house” to bona fide family member. We had a long journey together. I’ll never forget her.
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Kim G said:
Hola Lee,
I’m sorry about your “mother in law.” But the more I experience these things, the more I think a fairly rapid decline at the end is the best way to go. My stepdad had a very gradual decline until about a month ago, and then it went fairly fast. It’s just another reminder that I really need to live life to the fullest today. Saludos and thanks for your comment.
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Fred V said:
Hi, Kim:
As always, your blog is always most interesting. You should write a book. You certainly have the gift of writing. I am sad to hear about your stepdad and glad you are spending time with your Mom. Am happy to hear you met Luis and are getting along well. Please remember that, on your drive back to Boston, should you need to take a break from driving, you are always welcome to stay here in El Paso for a few days. I have two comfortable guest rooms at your disposal. Winters here are mild and sunny. Please keep in touch. Happy New Year!
Fred
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Kim G said:
Hola Fred,
Thanks for the kind comment. In fact, let’s see about my return. Frankly, I’d LOVE to stop in El Paso to see you. Aside from that, I have very fond memories of the place from my college days. Saludos and Feliz Año Nuevo. (Y un fuerte abrazo)
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Fred V said:
Hola Kim:
This city has spread out immensely since the ’60s, including UTEP! The people are still warm and friendly.
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Kim G said:
Hola Fred,
I was last in El Paso in the late 80’s when I was studying in Houston and I’d pass through El Paso on my way back and forth from San Fran. The people there were always nice, and I had a lot of fun in clubs there. Saludos.
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