The day began at 3 AM when the alarm went off. You can all imagine the flurry of packing, showering, cat-snuggling, and triple-checking that the stove was off, I’m sure
Gainesville airport – swank! The upgrades look nice.
Flight to Atlanta – Holy mother of Gawd, we were in a tin can with seats. Horrid turbulence towards the end. Happy to land.
Atlanta airport – what can I say; we’ve all been there.
Flight to Cincinnati – shorter than I thought it would be, and in a much larger plane.
Cincinnati airport – our bags were there right away, but then we had a few odd moments in trying to get a rental car. It took logging onto our laptop and reserving one online, but we got one. Chevy Malibu, for those that care about those sorts of things.
The condo Aunt Gay and Rusty are staying – here’s a view of the back yard, if that gives any indication of how nice it is. I can not thank the owner enough for letting my family have such a soft place to land at the end of a day that buffets them back and forth.
Unca Joe at the hospital – heart-wrenching (expected and planned for, so not overwhelming) but not nearly as horrible as seeing my dad, or Bill. He got his trach today (maybe yesterday?) and doesn’t seem to like it. But I’m glad that he doesn’t seem to like it because that means they’re cutting back on his anxiety meds and he’s slowly coming back up to the surface. He’s still on an amnesiac though, so won’t remember most of this. Also, I almost thought Aunt Gay had led me into the wrong room because HE HAS FACIAL HAIR. I haven’t seen him have a beard in years, and when I did see it, it was brown. Also trimmed. And cut in such a way as to leave his cheeks clear. NOW IT IS GRAY. AND SCRUFFY. He looks like a grizzled pirate, which I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear. Am I happy? Yes. Are things looking better? Yes. Are we out of the woods? Not by a long shot. Don’t smoke those celebratory cigars yet, it’s going to be a very long road and he will still need some more surgery. But I feel better having seen him, and this blog is all about me, after all.
Aunt Gay and Rusty – holding up, all things considered. Holding each other up, I should say. There’s just the right balance of laughter and teary eyes, which is what I would expect from my awesome family.
Dinner with a bunch of people – I debated talking about this or not, but fuck it; it’s my blog. I pay the rent here so I get to bitch in my own living room. Most of the people with whom we went to an SF group dinner with were absolutely lovely; funny and brilliant, and seemed to genuinely care about Uncle Joe’s health and how Aunt Gay is doing. But one person in particular made me feel more unwelcome than I have ever, ever felt at a dinner with people of my own kind. About the third or fourth time we were reminded that the table was so crowded was because there were so many more unexpected people; that if only word had been said (as an aside, it had been) that more people were coming we wouldn’t be so crammed in around the table… I almost got up and took my food to another table, because really, cram it!– but I held my tongue; the majority of these people have been wonderful to Aunt Gay and perhaps because I have been up since 3AM and have had a very long day and am worried about losing my last paternal relative that maybe I am being too sensitive and the continuous comments of being crowded was a way of saying that this person wishes they looked like a better host. ANYWAY. MOVING ON.
I’m tired, y’all. Tomorrow brings visiting with Unca Joe more, and maybe a trip to the Cincy Zoo. Giraffes!
PS. If you saw the photos I posted earlier, the flying pig was at the hospital. You know if I see A GIANT FLYING PIG PUTTING ON ZINC OXIDE, I will be photographing that shit. Word, y’all.