Saturday in San Angelo

Breakfast time at Casa Coye. Turns out that Kelly's youngest girl, Caitlyn, age 9, makes a pretty kickin' omelet. Me? I toasted a pretty mean pop-tart. Then forgot it and ate it cold.

Flew in last night to Dallas and drove down with Kelly and crew.

Quick thing about the flight:

Being recognized by the TSA guys at the baggage screening line has both it's upsides and it's downsides.

Upside? They know you, and they figure you aren't going to give them any trouble.

Downside? They know you, and they figure that when they pull you aside for the “random” full search, you aren't going to give them any trouble.

We're doing our part to keep the airlines in business. BH flew SW into Midland from Vegas last night. I flew SW into Dallas from St. Louis last night. Kim and Mya flew Delta/Northwest from Missoula last night. (Hey American... missed again. By the way, seen my luggage yet?)

Here at “Casa Coye”

life continues much as it was a week ago. Coye is surrounded by family. She will tell you that this also has it's upsides and downsides.

They have logs and schedules going for everything from meds to bowel movements (remember what I said about downsides?) Great Grandson Ian, age 4, has started his own log, keeping track of everytime Granny tries to get up by herself. He apparently overheard a piece of the conversation about Granny not being supposed to try to get up on her own, and a piece of one of the “we write everything down” conversations, and put them together. So, when he caught grandma standing up by her bed alone he dutifully made a little check mark on a piece of paper, and then ran and told on her to all the adults he could find.

And yet, despite all of the regimen, everything is pretty much “ok, what do we want to do next?” around here.

Family and friends seem to be coming and going, usually at a slow pace. Now and then it gets hectic or loud and the “hospital zone” police have to rear their heads. But, not often.

Nurses come by on schedule. Do their thing; ask their questions; make their notes and wander off. We have enough family in the business that I can tell you that the job of wandering in and out of seriously ill patient's houses, and dealing with the families, isn't usually a joyful event. I think it says something that the nurses who arrive solemn usually leave smiling.

The folks with Hospice have been really great. As noted earlier, Hospice moved a hospital bed into Coye's room about a week ago. She played with the buttons for awhile, but finally settled in.

She spent much of the past few weeks hanging out in a love seat on the front porch. But she's more tired, more often these days, and we've had to move things inside to her room. That involved, among other things, opening some windows that haven't been opened in a decade or so. This weekend we got them opened and the curtains set up so that she can sit up and watch folks come and go.

Remember Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window? She's come up with some interesting stories about the folks in the neighborhood. She has a theory that the guy across the street is burning rocks. He had a pile in the front yard, now he doesn't. It's a coin toss to decide whether this is a side effect of too much time on her hands, or this thing in her head.

This is also a good example of what's going on with her. The thing in her head has her seeing things from time to time. Go ahead, shudder and squirm a bit. It's ok. We did, too.

At first it was a bit disturbing. But then we, and she, figured out what was going on. Now it's kind of idle entertainment. She'll see something and know it's not there, or have a conversation with someone she knows has never been here. And she tells us about them. She knows they aren't there, but that doesn't mean they can't be interesting.

Maybe it's hallucination, maybe it's mystical. But it's being treated as what it is; A small side effect of the experience. We try not to give it anymore or less than it is.

It's kind of like this: We didn't buy the ticket, so we'll decide how we'll take the ride.

Along the way we gather and part, and gather again. We smile, we hug, we tell stories and laugh. And imagined sights and visitors are subject to the same rules as the rest of us. Be happy, be brief, be loved.