moving

While celebrating Obi-Wan's 93rd birthday at the hospital, I learned that he may be moving soon. Like me, he could be leaving the fair mother city forever.

There's even a good chance he might leave before I do.

In the words of his niece, this recent fall has really humbled him. He now knows he can no longer live alone. So arrangements are being made.

The current plan is to have Obi-Wan moved to a VA-run care home in Waco, the town his niece lives. And another relative of his works at this home so he will have a familiar face.

For months I assumed that my departure from Obi-Wan might involve one of us lying in a casket.

I guess both of us staring into each other's eye, shaking hands and departing the fair mother city in opposite directions is a better alternative from the CEO.

I don't know how I'm going to take that day.

brutal blow

About 7:30 yesterday morning Obi-Wan's home health care nurse rang our doorbell begging for the keys to his house. He had fallen and said it was an emergency. I handed her the keys and promised to be there as soon as I dressed. I also assumed this was yet another one of his routine falls out between the wheelchair and his bed. Wrong.

Sometime after 8p Friday Obi-Wan had fallen out of his wheelchair in his kitchen. Somehow he had gashed his left eye during the fall and thus lost tons of blood. His kitchen looked like a murder scene. Blood everywhere. He must have sat helpless on the floor for nearly 12 hours dozing in and out of yelling for help. And unfortunately, he doesn't remember the fall one bit.

His nurse called the EMT folks and he was rushed to the trauma center. He received several stitches above his eye. Thankfully, they admitted him in the hospital and is still there tonight.

He's doing well and in typical Obi-Wan fashion, he ain't going down without a fight. A major gash in his head isn't going to take him out just yet.

But truthfully, his health and abilities are slowing down rapidly these last few months...

farewell to the king

I had a Momo sighting the other day while cruising the fair mother city.

Yes, Momo, the king of the streets, was camped out in his standard beached-whale fashion in front of the old Hot Dog Castle. He's one of the top ten people in town I wanted to get a few minutes with before my departure. I did a quasi-legal U-turn on S 1st and joined him in the abandoned parking lot.

No major inspirational exchanges transpired. I got him to hug me. And about 95% of the conversation was Momo rambling about people he might kill after he gets his million dollar court settlement or something.

He's definitely someone I will never forget as long as I live. Due to years of glue sniffing, Momo's lost just enough brain cells to be slightly nuts. But he has enough brain cells left to use his "crazy homeless guy" persona as a manipulative weapon. I'm convinced half of his persona is an act. He deserves an oscar for his performances in front of the post office years ago.

Or like the time he took a shower at our ministry's facility and he'd go walking around the hallways half naked with a towel exposing a partial wet butt crack and asking for toothe paste or something. Classic.

I'm going to miss you Momo. May the lord bless you and keep you.

Junior and Johnny

Recently I have begun a new stage in my parenthood and undercover calling.

Our children are not yet school age. So they have yet to be thrown to the wolves that is "the world". You know, learning cuss words, peer pressures and such. Up until now their only friends were the children of mine and my wife's friends. And we know them well so we trust these kids to play with ours, etc.

Recently my son Agent Offspring #1 and his sister AO2 met a ragamuffin-looking boy named Junior playing with a kid next door. AO1 begged for me to let him and his sister play with this kid. Reluctantly I let them. But I stayed nearby on the front porch the whole time.

At first glance Junior seemed rowdy - climbing up our twig of a tree and jumping all over the bed of my truck (until I gave him a mild tongue lashing). I asked all the identification questions I could. Name age, school, etc. He's 8 and in 2nd grade. My kid hasn't started kindergarten yet. But my kid absolutely LOVED playing with Junior.

Junior seemed a little rough around the edges, but he was real nice to my kids and didn't belittle their childish ways. I learned that he had no mother but lived with his father in the rough looking house a block down our street beyond my jurisdiction.

A few days later we discovered Junior had a brother one year younger than him named Johnny. The two look like twins.

They came to our house today to play with our kids. Or at least, I figured their standing in the flower bed peeking in the window was their version of a greeting.

I guess when you don't have a mom, and dad works all day, there's no one there to teach you about door knocking etiquette. So I guess that's my job.

Junior and Johnny were wearing the same clothes from yesterday. But that didn't seem to bother them.

After my dog gave the newcomers hell, the kids all played in the backyard on the fort/swing set. They must have played for at least two hours or more. I sat in a lawn chair with my face buried in a book. My shades made it hard for them to know if I was paying attention to them or not. I over heard one of the brothers mention that he's seen these forts before, but never got to play on one.

Overall, they all played great together. The older boys were not the dark rowdy bad influences I feared. Or maybe my presence repressed that all together.

Shortly after Agent Wife made everybody lunch I sent the brothers on their way so my girls could take a nap.

I guess the outside world has introduced themselves to my kids. And it wasn't so bad.

last hurdle

Although I do not have a contract or any signed paperwork as of this writing, our home will be sold before we depart to the new assignment up north.

Almost a month ago the Jedi Master put me in contact with two business partners who are amassing rental houses for retirement income. They hope to one day have a total around forty houses. My investigations of public tax records show they currently have about nine or ten. I've met with them at least twice and they give me no reason to suspect that this deal would not go through, so I am planning my last two months in the fair mother city accordingly: saying goodbye to people, enjoying things locally and NOT remodeling my home. Thank you CEO!

Not to mention...we will now have a small wad of cash in the bank in hopes to purchase a home in the new location. Along with having no debts, money in the bank may be our only card to play in securing a new mortgage since we a) have no credit in Canada and b) no jobs (yet).

On the local front lines: Obi-Wan was in the hospital again recently. He had been suffering some major pains in his arm and shoulder. Friends worried that it might be a heart attack convinced him to call the ambulance. Thankfully, his problem was only Gout, so he returned home before nightfall.

Coincidentally, I had a dream last night that Obi-Wan had passed away recently and his funeral was already arranged. I find it wise to pay attention to dreams as they can often indicate communications from the CEO. But as we all know, dreams can be a bunch of nonsense as well. Who knows.

And Agent Wife has been hanging with Mandy a lot. In addition to her crazy health ordeals she is now facing serious marital ordeals.

We seem to have our hands full during our final weeks. So it goes.