Round and Round

It’s been unusual at work lately.
http://thegazette.com/obituaries/reisner-harleth-harley/

He was a truck driver that dropped off stuff in the morning. He died in the bathroom at our office. It took awhile to get the steel door open, the bathroom door deadbolt doesn’t open with the key.

http://www.hagartywaychoffgrarup.com/sitemaker/sites/HAGART1/obit.cgi?user=879643Welter

At least she got a few years of retirement. My dad was a Letter Carrier and he managed to get 9 years of retirement.

http://wcfcourier.com/lifestyles/announcements/obituaries/michael-l-o-brien/article_5ec5ab14-2a8b-11e2-93b1-001a4bcf887a.html

I like Mike. He was easy going and had a good sense of humor.

Sometimes people end up bleeding when they die. Harley hit his nose when he fell. At least this time I didn’t have to clean up the blood. I have had to clean it up when people have been injured. At least dying at work spares your family of the trauma of finding you. Dying quickly doesn’t give your family time to say goodbye. Dying slowly makes your family watch you deteriorate.

Wild

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5 thoughts on “Round and Round

    1. wildoats1962 Post author

      I have been for a while now. I’m the youngest of six kids. One sister died in 02, and one was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer at Christmas {she waited until the new year before telling anybody}. I watch the obits for people younger than me. I think about the friends I’ve lost. I think about how to not traumatize relatives, {this is difficult because although they know I’m a perv, they really don’t know specifics but they will when they go through my stuff. AB wouldn’t be shocked, but that’s because it’s virtually impossible to shock her. {{I’ve tried}}, but she’s in a different state. Plus I’ve been worried about her too. She’s been having a problem with her toe. The thing is, the problem has persisted long enough to seem like there must be some underlying problem. And today I got on her case about morbid thoughts, she said she gets that from me. Which is true and I view humor as a positive sign.}. My mom always said we were supposed to speak well of the dead. I’ve always tried to do that even if I didn’t like the dead person. After she died my siblings no longer seemed to feel compelled to speak well of other dead relatives. I preferred not knowing, but you can’t un-hear or un-learn things. And you might as well speak favorably of the dead. There’s very little they can do to you after they’re dead, and whatever you try and do to them is quite literally like flogging a dead horse. I plan on losing weight after I die, shouldn’t take too long. I suspect my personal hygiene will suffer though. The gruesome details bother people, I think because it drives home the thought that the physical body is just a hunk of meat. Once you die the part that makes you a special unique individual is no longer there. Depending on which religion you’re talking about, determines where you think that something went. And people will get squeamish about the various things that happen to the body after death, like embalming, cremation, donating the body to a teaching hospital, organ donation, etc. I mentioned the blood because I didn’t get stuck with cleaning that up. I haven’t cleaned up blood from a dead person before, but I have cleaned it up after people were injured. It is surprising how fast it starts clotting, it looks different from any other liquid when mopping it up. And it always seems to look like there’s more there than there actually is. Several years ago a blind guy had a blood vessel in his ankle break while getting off the bus. He thought he stepped in a puddle, and it itched. He tracked blood through our public access areas, and since he was blind he would feel the wall with his hand {that he had been using to scratch that itchy foot.} and leave bloody hand prints all over. Fortunately I didn’t have to clean that up, Meri did. And Randy offered to go and help. When he saw the blood streaked hallway he promptly threw up. At which point Meri said, “That’s NOT helping!”

      Gee, my reply is longer than the post.

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      1. Mrs Fever

        Sometimes my replies are longer than my posts too.

        My family lost an entire generation this past year. Everyone on my dad’s side who was in their ’80s is now dead. I do still have one living grandparent. My biological father’s mother is in her ’70s, I think, and as far as I know, she’s still alive. I haven’t seen her in almost 25 years. She got married at 14 or something like that. Times were different then.

        I don’t really see the point in speaking ill of the dead, but I also don’t willingly sugar-coat the truth. Death doesn’t make someone a better person, so I tend to ~ as gently as possible, depending on who’s asking ~ speak openly about a person’s good points *and* their faults after they’re gone. But I do that with live people too, so at least I’m consistent.

        From the tone of your reply, it sounds like your sister’s cancer is terminal. Sorry to hear that. Hugs, Wild.

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    1. wildoats1962 Post author

      That particular sister has had breast cancer, bone cancer, colon cancer, and now mesothelioma. She’s also decided not to have chemo this time. I can’t really say I blame her. She’s been through it before and she doesn’t want to go through it again.

      My mom’s side is unique. So is my dad’s side, but it’s a totally different unique. The first line of Tolstoy’s “Anna Karena” comes to mind. “Happy families are all alike. Unhappy families are each unhappy in their own unique way.” I really like that line. My mom’s dad was older than her mother, but I’m not sure how much. I’ve seen a photo from about 1890 and he was an adult then. He looked a little like Jed Clampett and every photo showed him smiling. My grandmother, well, looked like a pissed off Neanderthal. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a photo of her smiling, and I don’t remember ever seeing her smile. All of my mom’s family were big boned and heavy, mostly tall, except for my mom and her twin. Twins run in that family. I was 5 inches taller than my mom and my fingers would not reach all the way around her wrist. They were very big boned. One of my aunts was a ringer for John Lennon. She was probably 30 years older than him, but looked just like him. Not trying to be unkind, but she was one of the prettier girls in that family.

      I think my dad’s side was physically better looking, but they did have a violent streak. They also had a much better sense of humor {probably necessary after losing fights}.

      I’ve been rather amused by Gummibear videos lately. A dancing Gummibear wearing underwear and singing {foreign language ones slay me} amuses me to no end. I’ll check out the link.

      Not to be a downer, but in a sense we’re all terminal.

      Wild

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