September 2011

Is usually one of my favorite months. The cooler weather is coming in, fall is approaching, Halloween is almost here. But this year, it has been a VERY rough month.

It started with Labor Day weekend. We had plans to have friends over and go to the Bedford Blues Festival and about an hour before everyone was to arrive, Tony's sister called and told me their dad, JB, was dying. Tony was not home, but due back any minute. I threw clothes in bags, called friends told them not to come and we hit the road shortly after Tony come back from the store.

We arrived at his step mom's at 1:30 in the morning. The house was locked up tight and everyone sleeping so soundly they did not wake up to our knocking. Thankfully the room above the garage was unlocked, so we trudged up the stairs and looked sadly at the hardwood floors. There was one very small mat in one corner so we went and robbed all of the cushions off the chairs on the porch and that became our bed.

The next morning, Tony was very hesitant to see his dad, so I went down first. Hospice has been involved, so he was in a hospital bed very frail and seemingly uncomfortable. He did not know who I was, but was comforted if you placed your hand on his forehead. He was alert for a few minutes and then would go back to sleep. Breathing was so erratic, I at one point counted 37 seconds between breaths. The night before when we got the call, Hospice measured his O2 levels in the high 60's if I remember correctly. So, we knew his time with us was short. He did not recognize any of us, except Jackson and called him by name. Jackson is his name sake and his initials are JB and we call him that frequently.


Martha was exhausted, Tony's sister was understandably devastated and watching your hero, your husband, your father in that state was awful to the say the least. Jackson knew Grandpa was sick and kept bringing him stuffed animals to keep him company. He asked why he couldn't go to the doctor and get better and I explained to him that sometimes Doctors can't fix everything and that Grandpa was going to go live with Jesus soon.

Tony and I decided we would go back home that Sunday as we did not know how long this would go on. Nobody knows how long the dying process will take. As we were saying our tearful goodbyes, Jackson said, "bye Grandpa Graham, say hi to my fish for me when you get to Jesus". Tony and I just cried. (a week before, Jackson's beta fish Skye died. We did the ceremonial flush, which is not such a good idea as Jackson wailed that Skye was swimming with poop. I told him he wasn't, that he was swimming in Jesus' pool.)


The next Thursday, September the 8th, JB Graham, was called home at 11:30 pm. He was 83 years, 7 months and 2 days old. We did not get the call until the next morning after Tony was already at work. I called him to let him know and then sent my friend Gayla (Grandma Geela) who works with him to give him a hug. She saw how sad he was and hunted down his boss who sent him home and gave him the next week off.

We went to the river house that night just to relax and then came home on Saturday and hit the road for AR later that night.

Visitation was Sunday and I was able to meet many of the Graham's that I had never met in person before. I had exchanged Christmas cards with many of them, but not met in person. There were also many of JB's buddies from the National Guard who were kind enough to bring pictures from that time. It was truly wonderful to see all the memories and hear the stories from what had to have been a rowdy, but fun group of guys.

JB Graham on the right

Funeral was Monday and I got my boys all dressed up. (Once again, I was reminded how smashing my husband looks in a suit.) Somber morning as we made our way to the funeral home. My step mom Martha has a neighbor named Summer who is a delightful 17 year old girl who has been a wonderful source of comfort and companionship to Martha over the years. It was my job to find Summer and make sure she sits with family as that is her rightful spot.


The funeral starts and not three minutes in, Jackson, "my tummy hurts". I look down and see that face, the one I am finally able to recognize, tuck him under my arm like a football and dash out. I think I stiff-armed some old man in the hallway as I am making a mad dash for the bathroom. We make it in time! He throws up, looks at me and said, "whew, that's better." We quietly re-enter the family room of the funeral sit in the back in case we have to leave again. I wanted to hold my husband's hand, but thought it more useful for me to make sure Jackson doesn't throw up on anyone. Fortunately, we make it through.

Tony's Mom, Syble, Tony, and Jackson

Jackson has been to a funeral, but not one he remembers and at graveside, I explained to him what all the stones were about. We had tucked his school picture inside the casket the day before and Tony wanted to write his dad a note, so we all said our good-byes and tucked it in the spot designated for that purpose. It was a tearful good-bye, but one that was worthy of the incredible, gentle man that he was. This earth is truly missing a good soul with lots of humor and laughter, kindness and generosity. I am incredibly grateful to have known this man.

JB and Martha's church made us delicious lunch and then we went back to the house. No more stepped out of the car and I got that look again from Jackson. Sent him to the grass and told him not to get it on his shoes. Again, he did his thing and said, "I'm good now." Jackson is not a nervous child and usually does not pick up on the emotions of those around him, but he has also never seen his daddy that upset. He also does not tend to throw up alot, so not sure what that was all about.

Leaving the next day was very hard, I did not want to leave Martha, but she seemed to be doing well. The anquish in her eyes was already subsiding. She said to me over the weekend her only complaint about her 30+ years of marriage to JB was that it was over. That broke my heart.

On the way home, we stopped and splashed around in the Ouchita river and then Tony finally let me dig for diamonds in Murpheesboro. It's a diamond mine (pphhhttt! whatever!) that allows the public to go search for diamonds. I have been begging for 15 years and now I know why he has never driven the 2 hours out of the way, round trip, to let me do it. It's a giant dirt field - start digging. I was done in 30 minutes. It sucks, don't do it. If its on your list, take it off, it sucks.

So we make it home and the boys go to the river while I stay home to finish the week out with work. Tony is doing ok, been on the grumpy side, but I understand and just try and give lots of hugs and kisses and reminders that I am on his team - the enemy is out there. Recovery and grief will take time.

Who was JB? He was an outdoorsman. A hunter, a fisher, a great lover of animals. He was kind, patient, quiet and with a sort of serious nature with a hint of tom-foolishness just bubbling under the surface. I have no doubt he had alot of fun in his life. Tony has told me lots of stories of riding motorcycles and hunting and fishing with his dad. He was married to Martha (he called her M&M) for over 30 years and always welcomed me into his home and later into his family. He is from a large family, I think there were 9 brothers and sisters. The sister I met at the funeral, Florene, had his same dialect and the same laugh as Tony and his dad. I have always known Tony favored his dad in many ways, but I didn't realize the Graham family had their own dialect, their own way of pronunciation until I met them that Sunday afternoon. Cousins came out of the woodwork. Sad day, but very nice to see all of these people I have only heard stories about.

He was a tall lean man who had a long stride and finally, someone who could keep up with me without complaining. He walked with a purpose, but often stopped to just look around to see if he was missing anything. Always, always, always, had hunting dogs. In fact, was buried with his hat that said "ole Jake" - his favorite bird dog. Enjoyed horses and kept two until the upkeep came to be burdensome on Martha with the advancement of his AZ. Their names were Sue and Sugar and were very nice, but nosey and scared me to death on more than one occasion since I am afraid of horses.

He played football for SCA (Southern College of Arkansas) and received a degree in Business (I think - Tony isn't for sure). We also think he played college baseball, but Tony wasn't sure on that either.

He was in the National Guard and was called to duty to Guard Central High in 1957. He never talked about it with me, so I am not sure how he felt about what he had to do.

Source: Wikipedia
On the morning of September 23, 1957, the nine African-American high school students faced an angry mob of over 1,000 White Americans protesting integration in front of Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas.^[5] As the students were escorted inside by the Little Rock police, violence escalated and they were removed from the school.^[5] The next day, President Dwight D. Eisenhower ordered the 1,200-man 101st Airborne Battle Group of the U.S. Army's 101st Airborne Division from Fort Campbell, Kentucky, to escort the nine students into the school.^[5][5] At nearby Camp Robinson, a hastily organized Task Force 153rd Infantry drew guardsmen from units all over the state.^[5] Most of the Arkansas Guard was quickly demobilized, but the ad hoc TF153Inf assumed control at Thanksgiving when the 327th withdrew, and patrolled inside and outside the school for the remainder of the school year. As Melba Pattillo Beals, one of the nine students, remembered, and quoted in her book, "After three full days inside Central [High School], I know that integration is a much bigger word than I thought." By the same order, the entire 10,000 man Arkansas National Guard was federalized, to remove them from the control of Governor Faubus.
My in-laws live at the top of a mountain and is a beautiful place. I could sit for hours on the porch and take pictures of the hummingbirds (which I did). Also managed some nice deer shots and one cute rabbit.

And then, I lost my Great Aunt Dorthy on September 13th. She was my Grandmother Parks' sister. She was a retired school teacher and the one of the nicest women I have had the pleasure of knowing. She died on her own terms from heart issues (asked treatment to be withdrawn) and I think that's an awesome way to go - pick your own path and in peace. God knows everything, so no doubt he was prepared, but the giggling going on in heaven between Aunt Dorthy, Aunt June and my Grandmother is keeping people up - I assure you.

Then, to round off this already crappy month, my favorite customer tells me they are leaving to go elsewhere. All driven from the new VP of Marketing who had her mind made up to re-create the wheel when she took her first step into her new office in February. I don't have anything else nice to say, so stopping here.



In summary...I love October!

PS - it's not hot anymore.