by Diane
by Rain Trueax
Oregon Coast at Yachats
There are things that a person just does not know how to write. Losses are among the hardest of those. Sometimes we prefer to let such times pass without words. Sometimes words are needed.
We have had a long time friendship with a couple that goes back to 1962 (we think) for one of us and him. Fisherman and Ranch Boss met as freshmen through a combination of working for a chemistry professor at the college and a fly fishing class. The class required taking some fishing trips. Twist their arms. From that time, they formed a friendship that lasted until he died this week.
In the fall of '62, I met what would be my future husband from my making up a dance class due to schedule change. We were pretty instantly attracted with dating, though not going seriously for a few months at least-- neither of us remember the exact date. I though, of course, met his fishing friend through him and later his girlfriend, Diane.
The relationships processed though the usual stages from engagements to our wedding in September-- theirs in June. That summer, we got together at their town apartment to discuss future plans since both men had applied at University of Arizona to work and study for a Master's Degree. In Tucson, we found an apartment complex that suited us all (can't remember who found it either).
From Oregon, we caravaned down the small roads of Oregon, Idaho, Utah, to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon where we shared a cabin along with our small black cat, Sheba.
Once in Tucson, life settled in very comfortable routine. They'd go to class and after a while, Diane and I would meet every morning at either her apartment or mine for coffee and to talk for a while on politics, culture, life, art-- not always agreeing but always stimulating. Then we'd break for the day while she painted and I wrote.
A painting Diane did down there and gave us for Christmas.
We each had a small patio, which they did theirs one way and ours another. The four of us played in the desert washes, even took an Easter break to rent a log cabin on the Rim (along with our black cat, of course), which led to this painting, which we have in Oregon.
Diane painted this one in the White Mountains on that trip. We bought it at a price she generously made possible for what we could afford.
Eventually, the four of us headed back north for jobs-- us first to Oregon-- later, them to Washington. We continued to get together as our babies were born. We shared interests and differences. It worked. Then he also got a job in Oregon which led to more opportunities to get together. For years, it led to sharing cabins on the Oregon Coast, going for hikes, and a lot of dinners together. And then he got sick and...
When you lose one half of a partnership like that, it's a hole out of your heart. You basically have shared your lives and done so much together-- always free to have other friends and other interests.We didn't expect it to end this way until we learned Fisherman had ALS. It is a disease that isn't easy to diagnose in the beginning. Later it meant an inevitable end. He fought it though as bravely as he did everything else. Finally it ended his life but not his spirit. He smiled to the end.
He was a good, strong friend. He contributed to the community by his volunteer efforts to help more people find joy in nature and fishing. He was a mountain climber, part of rescue teams, a scientist his whole life, and of course, always a fisherman to the very end as he shared its satisfaction and joy with others-- especially his family, which was always at the heart of his life.
Sometimes saying someone was a good man just isn't enough to describe all that means. He expanded his life with travel and always with his life partner, Diane, with whom he shared a long marriage from being virtually kids to old age. They were the kind of partnership; where he encouraged and helped her with her art as she did him with all his outdoor interests. To say he will be missed isn't to say enough. It's a loss but also a blessing to have had him in our lives.
I decided to create a small video of the photos we had with them. I don't have all the pictures I would have liked as most are still in Oregon but this represents part of a long friendship. Three of us go on, but he will always be part of who we are.
I love our home especially now. With Fisherman Hubby's neuromuscular decline, a two story house with stairs would be awful. Our rooms are large enough to accomadate all the necessary equipment to make him more comfortable. The house is small enough to be kept clean. The largest area is the kitchen dining area. Behind the table in the center of the wall is a bulletin board where I can pin up new work. Food alone does not nurish. Living with my paintings nourishes my need to be creative. Currently I pinned up two pieces on from my painting companions. The letter"T" composition is by an Oregon granddaughter's boyfriend. The letter "Q" composition is by the granddaughter from Utah. The Q could also be seen as the capital "A" on it's side. The two negative areas left by the letter "A" could be seen as one piece woven behind. Simplifying the landscape into letter shapes is not easy. I am proud of their process.
These are stressful times. Two of my own readers said that personal stress bubbled over with strong negative reactions to this blog when some topics angered them. Or they were not interested unless photos were accompanied with explanations. They just wished I would have a blog just about Fisherman Hubby and our ALS journey.
I made an attempt to recover from a UTI and post on a Word Press blog that I quit in 1914. It recognized me and I began to compose a blog but kept making blocking errors. So working another blog will be a learning curve.
Maybe next week I will continue updates on my Word Press blog and then for other topics I will post here.
Fisherman Husband is needing more care and again I am seeking help. If visiting Angels can not find help , I may try private individuals looking for work. Every day there is a change in his needs. We are accomidating so far with the help of many friends and family. We are blessed.
by Rain Trueax
September was a tough month for me with the disastrous fires in my home state. Some of my favorite Cascade Mountain areas to camp or hike were destroyed. People lost their lives. Small towns like Talent and Phoenix were burned almost to the
ground. My daughter said half the
children in those school districts had lost their homes. California has suffered the same devastation. It's hard to get your head around the misery,.
Then came October and I made a big mistake. Tuesday, we ordered a chicken enchilada dinner from a nearby Mexican restaurant. Delicious.I knew that for me there was some risk as I learned a few years ago that I am nightshade intolerant. I mentioned it in the last blog I wrote for here. When the symptoms hit you, it's one or two days after the meal. You have just taken something toxic into your body-- in short poisoning yourself. It got me Thursday which led to physical weakness, terrible headaches, throwing up-- in short, misery, a day mostly in bed as nothing helps-- well, except your partner sometimes also lying in bed to keep you company. Yes, misery does love company.
In researching nightshade intolerance, we did learn it's genetic and comes most to those who live or migrated from certain parts of Europe (happens to fit my ancestry).
Having invited a bout of it myself, always hopefully it won't be so bad, that basically meant another day or two, when the worst of the misery subsided, that I have little energy. I am hence going to use something I wrote in September for a group blog. The one plus I can say about such a miserable experience is first, it makes a person very sympathetic to people with longer lasting illnesses and second it makes one appreciate of feeling normal. It is something that it's easy to take for granted.
You might think what do you care about covers for books if you haven't written one yet, but you might someday decide to write a book of poetry, a memoir, the great American novel, book on nature, photography, painting, etc. The tips apply. The covers below will change for their title fonts (we bought some new ones to try), but my energy is depleted again. I'll write more about them next Saturday when I will have been a lot smarter about what I eat.
My infection is hardly noticeable but must continue taking the anti-biotic. I have more pep than I expected.
I am feeling unsettled, though, from having my worst fears materialize for our president. Early on in Trump's Presidency I wrote him pleading with him to set a good example and loose excessive weight. He didn't as far as I can tell. I hope he recovers without complications in the near future.
This evening we said good by to our visiting Utah daughter and granddaughter. Their stay uplifted our spirits. And painting with my granddaughter was priceless.
A selfie taken by one granddaughter of us and her sister
Monday, September 28
I thought surely I could do Yom Kippur fast and a virtual service. Wrong, today I was care giving for myself because I was certain I had a urinary tract infection. I tested possitive for a UTI. So have an antibiotic and am drinking a little more water. Some days I got so busy I didn't drink enough. This is a wake up call.
Yesterday Fisherman Hubby had to mow the grass with the riding lawn mower. So sad to see through three layers ( tee shirt, heavy sweat shirt, and fleece vest) every vertabrae was countable. Yet he has to have the joy of being outdoors and for him being outdoors means making the yard beautiful. He admits he was pushing it. The mower jerked him around in places and he stretched to open the barn style doors. As aconcequence he has sore chest muscles. Advil helps. He was concerned about a big bump but turns out it is his rib cage. He just doesn't see right away the result of not being able to eat because of the fluids and saliva and early satiation.
His appetite has improved some and I keep working very hard to please his taste buds.
The best part of this week is having my vision cleared of scar tissue. It is going to make a difference. Tomorrow between trying to get a respiratory therapist to check the adjustments to Fisherman Hubby's V-pap, I hope to paint with my sister-in-law while Don's brother does some yard work. Then in the afternoon one of our daughters and granddaughter from Utah are coming for a week.
With my urinary tract infection, I may not report so much about my art work. but instead write about the pros and cons of having a car. I am debating about selling it and hiring Lift or Uber.
by Rain Trueax
Something that isn't often discussed or at least I haven't come across it is how our body's ability to use food can change with old age. There are probably those who go on their merry way and can eat whatever they want to the end. But that has not proven to the case with me. Old age has made me sometimes almost afraid of food.
In the afternoon before the wind and rain hit us, a granddaughter and her boy friend joined me to paint in the garage. Their paintings are near completion and each reflect their own personality and are entirely different from my coy pond. Then we rushed off to my eye appointment where the scar tissue on my cataract replacement lenses was blasted away. Had not noticed my eyes were getting so bad.
Don was doing well so he stayed at home while I doctored. Then we ate Chinese pick up dinner and planned our next painting party. Hopefully the weather will be good enough to go back to the coy pond or other neighborhood painting attraction where social distancing can be carried out comfortably.
Thursday, September 24,
This is mixed media on watercolor paper and how it looked before my eyes were cleared of the secondary cataract . I am itching to get back to it so I can work on the coy eyes and accentuate the net before calling done. This one I believe is headed to being framed.
Fisherman Hubby so happy to be outdoors after the smoke cleared. I was very anxious about him wanting to ride his lawn mower but he did well and I am now happy for him. He has more energy and a better appetite now that his digestive issue is resolved the past few days. Plus now I am back to doing less than one laundry load per day.
Today Fisherman Hubby is stable meaning nothing. Maybe next week I can consider a true stability plateau. As I write he has a new issue. I realize that I do not know if during an excessive saliva attack is the right or wrong time to use a nebalizer. Will the saline in the nealizer improve his breathing?
Thank you Barbara for the gift of six canvases. I now have a large surfaces for my painting a tryptych , a diptych and a square canvas. So kind of her to give me some from her own stach. Finally this afternoon the whitest canvases have been covered with a tinted gesso.
Tuesday, September 22,
Have so much going, I did not get to paint gesso background tone on the whitest three canvases until this afternoon. What makes me happy though Is Fisherman Hubby's digestive system is doing well today and his appetite is improving.
Looking forward to tomorrow when one granddaughter and her husband are coming to paint a little. Maybe we will get an hour of painting outdoors before it rains. Afterwards my granddaughter will take me to get the catarac replacement lenses lazer treated for a film covering them. No more guess work reading drug labels for Fisherman Hubby.
by Rain Trueax
So, if you don't much care for politics, come back Wednesday or Saturday where they are unlikely to appear-- although politics are sneaky; so you never know for sure. They can crop up unexpectedly like you know in history subjects.
by Rain Trueax
Well, it's come around again-- our anniversary. This time it happens on a Saturday, which was the same 56 years ago. I remember a lot of the preparations that day. It was very much a family operation with flowers done by aunts-- except my bouquet, which my grandmother insisted on buying. The groom paid for my wedding gown as well as contact lenses so I could actually see my wedding. I did my own hair (as you can probably tell). Our attendants were two-- my cousin. She and i went shopping for her dress that she'd be able to use for her high school dances. I had no color requirement and she chose a soft green.
My brother was the best man, something that made him never want a wedding with all the trimmings. My mom sang before the service. Afterward, my father-in-law took the photos, except the one he was in. We had the reception back at my parents' small home with again family serving cake, coffee and punch-- no liquor as this was not a drinking family, and I wasn't 21 yet anyway.
I am getting joy arranging my paintings to advantage so our home looks beautiful for fisherman Hubby and especially me. Our family can choose what they like to try in their homes.
Fisherman Hubby's excessive secreations and loss of muscles makes drinking and eating difficult. He is still good at walking around the house inside. So sad to see him just sitting or just going to bed for another nap. Now I see elimination is going to be like an ongoing struggle, so I strive to make meals like they are his last real food. Foods are now chopped in the food processesor. My meals are more ambitious than the time I have to prepare them.
Tonight scoloped potatoes and ham were a tasty success. But the apple pie was not so good. the juice seeped out and carnelized instead of being the moist filling around the apples. The pie caused too much mucus and coughing.
I am getting tired and have mountains of laundry from the two loads today on my bed. I will take it all bato the table in the garage that I cleared this weekend. I am so thankful we both are down scaling. so we have more room for living. Some think that downscaling is emotionally hard but I think we both feel liberated and enjoy feelings of accomplishment when our things get to be enjoyed by our family and close friends.
Tuesday, September 15, is a catch up day. Caught up on a couple of hours of sleep missed from getting up with Fisherman Hubby in the wee hours of Monday. Folded yesterday's two loads of laundry. But dnuck a few minutes to take down one pinting and hang two more. Set up another table in the garage so I will have space to sort my art work on paper.
It is 3:00 PM snd I am making lemon meriang pie and maybe take up painting after dark.
by Rain Trueax
If the United States, we didn't have enough pain thrust onto us, fires have become a new attack on the West Coast. We got some of that early this summer when Tucson had the Catalina Mountains hit with lightning and then a long lasting fire that raced across the mountain and led to some evacuations-- as well as smoke that made being outside impossible.
Then came the California fires, also started by lightning to begin. That was followed to what is happening to Oregon with fires destroying small towns, homes and priceless buildings that even if they can be rebuilt, it'll never be the same. And as I write this, the conflagration is not over. More after the break---
Thursday, September 10, I looked at my yet to be finished memory painting started last February in Hawaii. I am just getting ready to dig into the center. Maybe tomorrow!
Between the smokey ash falling and the new equipment to help Fisherman Hubby's neuromuscular repiratory failure, plus sluggish digestive system, I could not work in another wonder ful painting hour with one granddaughter and her boyfriend. The lighting is so weird, and just trying to keep up with chores, I did not paint today. Instead I changed paintings in the house with paintings I hope will be calming.
Tuesday, September 8, felt disoriented and uneasy when the bloody sky kept getting darker between something like 6:30 AM and 7:30 AM. Not getting better until after 9:00 AM. The pavement still had streaks of bright copper tone. Then through out the day I kept looking through the window watching the dunes of ash swirling and building. I thought how wonderful it would be to collect the ash and see howit would color ceramic glazes or glass to commemorate when people learned that in this world we must prioritize the collective good before deciding what free wishes we can give ourselves without harming others.
To make us feel better I planned chicken and dumplings in gravy with peas.. Yesterday's gravy was less than I remembered and the bone broth in the pressure cooker would not be ready to make new gravy. so the gravy became chicken soup and the boiled chicken thighs were not as tender as could be. Fisherman Hubby graciously ate the soup except for the dumplings. With the last chicken in the freezer I promised him that tomorrow I will fry it in oil like he is used to eat since childhood.
Dear friends who have graciously asked what they can do for us, please make gravies every third day, Save Fisherman Hubby from baby food. He needs a gravy from supper strong bone broth without onions and pepper. This is a wonderful creative challenge. To make a tasty gravy without onions and much spice.
In our dining area I live with new evolving paintings of granddaughter, boyfriend, and neighbor children these past two Fridays!
Friday, September 4,
A granddaughter and her boy friend came to work on their paintings at neighbor's fish pond. They plan to come back Thursday, September 10. to maybe finish their paintings. I will stretch their paintings so it will be easier to apply salt effectively.
Monday, September 7, Labor Day
The scent of baking delightfully fills our home. Using our new convection oven and practicing to become a good cook, I failed - the first pie shell tossed.
Unexpectedly, I have more time to think paint and acrtually paint as Fisherman Hubby takes more naps. Thinking paint when I stir the blueberry filling. Thinking about paint when I do the endless laundry. While I do the mundane chores, my mind perks soaking in the beauty surrounding me leading me to new ideas to try in paint. Not so boring is looking through cook books for easy to chew and swallow ideas. I must change how I manage the time of preparation. Before cooking make step by step plans. I need to cook the sauce and potato even before the salad! Always running out of time to chop the meat even though the Cuisinair food processor works fast. My cooking is frustrating when Fisherman Hubby cannot eat what I prepare similar to when I am frustrated when a pain goes ill. Life for me is an art problem in need of creative resolution.
Should I return to a mini-art respitite series like my earlier one of topology knots. Every time I entered the studio decisions of what I should do every daywere limited?
We are told to be peaceful. We are told that nothing is going on and that the demonstrations are peaceful. Those who stick to mainstream cable news probably believe it. If they get all their news from the left and that includes public radio and television, they probably believe it. If they go for more diverse sources, local news, online magazines, and personal accounts, they know it's not that simple. Yes, the entire country is not on fire. Not all of Portland, Oregon has riots. But where they will be, nobody knows except maybe the ones coordinating, that which is not supposed to be organized.
Again, I am giving a break before I go onto cultural issues, which I know some don't want-- besides, not all who read here come from the US. So if it's not of interest, come back another day.
In addition to painting I needed a 15 minute nap at about 3:00 PM today after several nights of trying to be vigilant of Fisherman Hubby's frequent toileting on his own except for me running the soiled washcloths to the laundryroom and a little bleach.
Looking forward to bringing to our out door location some pencils, crayons, white ink and sandpaper to assist with our resolutions of the paintigns started last Friday. Can't wait to see what the young neighbor kids will do when they join us.
Fisherman Hubby is needing more help. I am getting a CNA to come once a week and the Hospice nurses have been here for us. Also, family and friends are giving us great support. And sharing memories. We are very, very thankful. It is a good life Fisherman Hubby and I share. I am so thankful I am able to offer him some comfort at this difficult time for us.
Why so tired? Was it just last Thursday we had a family discussion or was it Friday. Yes, it was Friday. Or was it two weeks ago Friday. Yes, time flies. Even when over and over I am disinfecting soiled wash cloths Fisherman Hubby prefers to too small flushable whipes. Alas, on Monday his impactment broke up. So nice and soothing to look at beauty everywhere - even the kitchen sink view..
It was last Friday that one of our granddaughters and her boy friend painted with me at a neighbor's coy pond. And will come back this Friday to finish our work. This was my start. It needs very very little to communicate coy in an infinate landscape with waterfall and distant vista.
