A Real Life Story by Glenn Hansen
The Complete Little Book
Dedicated to Sweet Judith, wherever you are in God’s universe.
CHAPTER 1
“Love you to the moon and back!” It was Judy’s absolutely favourite saying. Her wonderful heart willingly shared it with everyone she was really close to, including me. I felt fortunate to be a close enough friend to be a recipient of this caring affection repeatedly and gladly reciprocated so many, many times.
Death. It becomes us all in the end. But, this story is about life, the fight for it, and a celebration of sorts. On a particularly pleasant, sunny spring morning, with a faint fog lingering in the air, I was walking to Riverview Healthcare Centre again to visit my friend Judy. I parked for free on a side street with a two hour time limit. As I went to the centre often, constantly spending my limited resources on the paid parking lot right next to the centre was not a viable option. And, I didn’t have to be a marathoner to do the trek, which was actually good for me.
This is a unique, very special healthcare facility that offers expert, tender loving care to those battling critical illnesses. My visits were bittersweet. I loved to visit my friend and the incredible people who were caring for her. They repeatedly reinforced my hope in humanity in the increasingly toxic world I was trying to peacefully co-exist in. I also knew that with every visit, it was potentially one visit closer to the last one.
I’ve been around on this planet for awhile now. “I’ve seen good times, I’ve seen bad, guess I’ve seen it all,” to quote lyrics from a song I had written some years ago in my naive younger years. Not true. I now realize life constantly challenges you with unexpected occurrences and events you could never have imagined. They’re not all bad ones either. Quite to the contrary, good things can happen too. And good things can emerge from the bad ones.
From what I just stated, you may have discerned that I am a songwriter. It is one of my many endeavours over the years, a constant one from age eleven, when I first played in the junior high school band. In today’s streaming music world, it’s ridiculously hard to make money in music, period. Sure, I would like to have even some modest success, but, like any other person involved in music, it’s like sports; no matter how much money you make, or don’t make, you do it because you love to do it in spite of all the rigours and roadblocks. Yes, I have made a very small amount of money. Fortunately, I have other modest sources of income to keep me afloat.
So anyway, on this particularly pleasant spring morning, as I walked to the entrance of the Riverview Healthcare Centre, I passed by a number of windows at the facility and in one of them I noticed an older gentleman playing a large Roland keyboard. Roland, by the way, makes great keyboards. He was happily playing away. I could see this from the joy in his round face and by the movement of his body as he played. I estimated his age to be around sixty-four (thank you, Beatles). He was fair and smooth in complexion, had very thinning light hair with a few strands combed over the top, and wore glasses with medium redwood coloured frames. From the movement of his body, I could also ascertain he was playing the digital keyboard on a piano setting. I smiled to myself as I walked past him.
The large healthcare facility’s structure is a wonderful, welcoming building with smooth medium reddish brown bricking, soft beige grout and trim, and organic medium forest green structural features. There is green space everywhere. A large, beautiful treed park with winding walkways, benches and tables is perched in front. When the weather is nice, you can see numerous patients in wheelchairs accompanied by loved ones, family and friends, or hospital staff.
I have never seen so many wheelchairs like I have at this place. The patients in them vary in the movement they can achieve from fairly flexible to extremely limited. Many have oxygen tanks. As you cannot, of course, smoke inside the hospital, smokers go to certain areas outside. It’s vital that the smokers and non-smokers, especially those with breathing difficulties and oxygen tanks, never get near each other. While you may think there should be no smoking anywhere, you have to appreciate that all of these people are at various stages of critical illness. Days can be very long for them, so for smokers, it’s a welcome diversion. Granted, it’s not a good diversion, but, they are in difficult situations, so I have empathy for them. They are usually life-long smokers. Please be assured though there are rules. You have to be a minimum distance away from the building and smokers and non-smokers must and do stay apart. Everyone cooperates.
As you approach the main entrance, there is a circular driveway for picking up and dropping off. You often see ambulance and stretcher vehicles there. The pleasant security staff keeps things moving. Ambulances and stretcher vehicles have priority over private vehicles.
I then walk in through two sets of very wide, automatic sliding doors. The foyer between them is roomy. The pay station for the aforementioned parking lot is here and there is seating for people. There is a hand sanitizing machine, the first of many you will encounter in the facility, and I mean many. When you do get through the second set of doors, there is an open, bright table area awaiting you with security staff. These are some of the most pleasant and capable security people you will ever encounter. Another sanitizing machine is there.
Behind is a huge, bright and welcoming common room. I am going to the right to the west wing. The walk there is along a long, curved hallway that is warm looking and conducive to a positive atmosphere. Next thing I know, I’m at the large, special elevators which are designed to accommodate wheelchairs. No surprise there.
From the elevators I go left and left again and I’m at my friend’s ward. The atmosphere is relaxed given the nature of the patients, but the expertise and warmth of the various personal exudes everywhere. If I should find myself in a critical illness situation, (hopefully not, of course), this is where I would want to be.
And now, I’m at the wide doorway to my friend’s room.
CHAPTER 2
As I stand at the doorway, from experience, I am anticipating one of two scenarios. My friend will either be sitting up looking pensively positive, or she will be seriously “out cold” sleeping. In part, the “out cold” is due to the medications she is receiving. Judy is still pretty and emanates a pretty spirit, in spite of her advancing cancer, at least to my eye. I love her as a close friend. Is it a romantic love? I’ll never know because the circumstance of our relationship never allowed for that notion. She is connected to oxygen twenty-four seven.
As I gingerly step through the doorway, I can see she is “out cold” sleeping. Every time this happens I have a fast moving major debate as to whether or not to wake her. On the one hand, I know she loves our visits as do I, and gives me heck for not waking her up. On the other hand, we both know how important her sleep is, especially at this stage of her illness. I also consider the purity of my motivations. Why? It’s just the way I am. As I get older and understand more, I increasingly strive to be pure of heart. Is this a good thing? I believe it is. Ultimately, I always choose to not wake her.
I linger for a moment to look at her. Many different thoughts roll through my little brain like an old time news reel they used to show at the movies before my time. This was also where you would see the wonderful and brilliant Warner Bros. cartoons that are so familiar to many of us thanks to television and then streaming. I pull out a business card and on the back draw the “U with two dots” smiley face and sign my first name. I quietly place the card, message side up, on the adjustable table/tray next to the bed. I take one last look at her and then depart. I have mixed emotions about what has just transpired.
I make my way back downstairs, usually on the elevator, but occasionally down the adjoining staircase just because. Sometimes, to test myself, I will use the stairs to climb up to her floor to ascertain my current state of health. I’m older now, so I am a little more wary of my conditioning. I am determined to not drop into too much of a sedentary lifestyle. It’s at times like this I appreciate still having a youthful mindset. More experienced, but still youthful. I wouldn’t want to have it any other way. I still have hopes and dreams.
On my way out I again pass by the security table at the entrance which is now the exit, lol. As I stated before, the security people are very pleasant, which is a must in a special, caring facility like the one I’m visiting. I did take a special shine to one of them who I often see given the frequency of my visits, an exceedingly welcoming man in his thirties. So much so, that I gave him money for a coffee one time which he very reluctantly accepted. The next time though, he gracefully refused my offer. It was then I realized he was not supposed to accept any kind of gratuity and that he only took the coffee money the first time around to not offend me by rejecting it. His heart was in a good place.
As I somewhat briskly walked by the healthcare centre’s windows back to my car parked on the side street, I again saw the piano player in the window.
CHAPTER 3
As I sit behind the wheel in my car about ready to start it and zoom off, it occurs to me that some might not understand why someone with supposed fixed resources was giving money to a security person at the hospital for coffee. The answer is really simple. My heart sometimes tells me to do things like this, to make a meaningful gesture to someone to show I appreciate them. My head usually agrees with this concept. Sometimes you just have to do what you think is right.
I turn on the ignition, and the perky little engine in my ten plus year old small sedan quickly snaps to life. In many ways this car is the best car I have ever owned. It’s very roomy for a small car with a plush interior that is very comfortable for both me and my occasional passengers. It has numerous features like a sunroof and rudimentary sophisticated electronics that I never use. It is in great condition with low “clickage” relative to its age. I lucked out in getting this used vehicle. It was one of those right place, right time kind of things and the price was quite agreeable. Very soon, I will finally have it paid off.
I have always been amused by the names of colours given to vehicles. My car is no exception. For the most part it looks black, but the colour is actually called Kona Bean brown. This is named for the rich, pleasant tasting Kona coffee that originates in Hawaii. Sure enough, in the absolute right sunlight conditions, you can see that it really is a very dark, slightly metallic brown. However, it usually looks black.
It takes about a half hour of city driving to get to or from the healthcare centre and my home. Home, in my case, is a fairly roomy bachelor suite in a middle-aged, one storey apartment building. It’s roomy because I made the decision to purchase a twin bed as opposed to a queen sized bed when moving in. It was the right decision for a myriad of reasons.
I am grateful to be where I live. The rent is so very reasonable, especially in this day and age, and includes a number of perks that you would usually have to pay for in a typical apartment building. The building is in a park like setting with tree cover much like the healthcare centre. You regularly see deer and birds. I even saw a fox on one occasion. The structure is well-maintained and comfortable and there’s a sense of community among the tenants.
During the drive home I sometimes listen to music or ponder or both. I was glad to have made the trip to see my friend in the healthcare facility. It’s a trip I make four times a week. Occasionally I go a fifth time. It was disappointing to not be able to converse with Judy on this visit, but that’s okay. Just knowing that I made the effort and that she appreciates me coming to see her always leaves a good feeling. I was meaningfully contributing to her life and she to mine.
CHAPTER 4
I first met Judy when she moved into my apartment building at the beginning of the previous summer. She was in a wheelchair and needed oxygen, but I had no idea, and I don’t think she did either, as to how unwell she already was. She was very determined to get well and believed she would. So did I.
Judy was very well liked by everyone at the apartment building I lived in. Her caring essence, warm approachability and thoughtful intelligence made her very special. We were all drawn to her as we recognized she was a shining star in God’s universe.
We clicked from the very beginning. It started with four of us playing Scrabble. She was pretty good. I hadn’t played Scrabble in years, but it was nice to play in such a friendly group. While Judy herself could not partake from the occasional bottle of wine we sometimes shared, it added, dare I say, to the sophistication of the event. Okay, probably not, but we had fun.
Our friendship progressed very rapidly. It wasn’t a romantic relationship. We just connected on a very profound level. We were both creative types and for the first time in my adult life, with the exception of my son, someone really understood what I was about as an artist and encouraged me in my various artistic pursuits, especially the music, which was most important to me. She too was very talented artistically, especially when it came to her illustrations. I would watch her do an illustration and marvel how easily and gracefully it flowed from her hand. I was grateful I could return the encouragement.
We started to go outside two and even three times a day to talk about the arts, and then got into world perspectives, spiritualism, relationships and how people should be much kinder, helpful and compassionate toward each other. We wished people would help each other to achieve their goals instead of embracing the virulent aspects of human behaviour. Is this even possible? I refuse to give up on this hope, while acknowledging it’s not likely. We need to seek this though so that humanity does not totally self destruct. Can we do it? That’s the massive challenge we face. This, of course, is where spiritual beliefs come into play. For both of us, love is a key spiritual factor.
Our relationship flourished on this basis for about five weeks. Then, a health event intervened. In the middle of the night in early fall Judy called for an ambulance. Her back was causing her much discomfort and she was taken to a nearby hospital. I learned of this the next morning and immediately headed for the hospital to see what was happening.
It turned out she had two cracked vertebrae in her back. Thinking this was the only issue, I told her I would come and visit her every day at the nearby hospital. We figured she would be there for no more than two weeks. As it turned out, other health issues started to surface and two weeks turned into a month, then two months and finally it was over five months. Judy was becoming increasingly ill as time went on. This is when we learned that her cancer was no longer in remission. It was much more serious than I ever realized.
I had still been seeing her every day, and given the turn of events, more determined than ever to be there, but I finally had to take an occasional break. After all this time, I was starting to run out of energy and had to recharge from time to time. I couldn’t let my battery totally run out because then I would be of no good to Judy or the other important people in my life. Taking the occasional break was hard to do because I was so committed, but I understood the big picture.
During this time, at Judy’s request, I became her formal health advocate. I’m not at all an aggressive person, but, I have no problem doing what must be done either, and in this case it included talking honestly with her doctors in the hospital and getting answers about her treatments, care strategies and so on. For the past five months we had been working on getting her back home to her apartment first, then into an assisted living care facility, but neither of these scenarios was ultimately possible due to her worsening condition.
CHAPTER 5
In the five months of our daily hospital visitations, we did learn so much more about each other and our friendship continued to grow and flourish. There was so much I liked about Judy. Her intelligence, positive demeanor, strength of character, and her giving and caring nature, all in an increasingly difficult personal situation. She gave me encouragement, hope and strength in many aspects of my life. As I am one who struggles trying to find a way forward for humanity and determined to work toward a pure heart, she was golden for me. Often, after a visit at the hospital, I would find my spirit elevated.
I, of course, reciprocated by caring deeply for her, providing for her needs in any way I could; and talk about our shared optimism, spiritualism and the love and hope it provided. I also tried to use humour to take the edge off of the ongoing situation. I loved the feisty fun way Judy would sometimes respond. That was my dear friend Judy.
Fairly early on in my visits to the hospital, is when she first texted me “Love you to the moon and back,” in saying goodnight one evening. At first, I honestly did not know what to make of this. It was a nice sentiment for her to express to me, but what did this mean? I had never heard this before and didn’t realize it was a saying. While I do have some language prowess, I never encountered this phrase before.
On my visit the next day, I asked her about this. She said it was a familiar saying and that it was probably her favourite expression to share with people she felt close to. What a wonderful thing to say to someone. I had never heard the expression or what its context is before. It made me feel good and reaffirmed that what I was doing in coming to see her every day was the right thing to do. Actually, it was more than just worthwhile; on a profound level we had a special connection and it made me more determined than ever to visit her daily. My heart and head agreed on this.
It was in the hospital that another game came back into my life, cribbage. I hadn’t played this in years but I picked up the game and it became a featured element in our visits for quite awhile until Judy couldn’t sit up for an extended period anymore. We would laugh and make jokes about each other as it related to the many games we played. It turns out I was a cheater even if I lost the game. It was all part of my illicit long term game strategy. We enjoyed many hours of playing. It was an escape for her from the otherwise increasingly dreary, weary days that she was spending alone in the hospital ward.
After five plus months, her condition had seriously degraded to the point where survival became very uncertain. But then, God’s universe opened a door for her. It was on a Thursday when I was surprised to get a phone call from Judy. Texting was our main mode of remote communication. She was being transferred out of the regular hospital into a specialized healthcare facility, Riverview Healthcare Centre, tomorrow morning. She wanted to know if I could come in the morning to pack her up for the trip. I said, “of course.” The stretcher service was going to take her and her belongings to the new place. I decided to ask a young at heart dear older friend, Carol, for her assistance and she was happy to oblige. I remained calm and focused on the task at hand, but I wondered what was going to follow as a result of this new development. I know Judy did as well.
CHAPTER 6
On Friday morning, my friend and I went to the hospital to pack up Judy’s belongings. There were assorted clothing, gifts from various people including, of course, her family, and other odds and ends. Oh, and of course, we packed up the cribbage game. One other item that was of real importance to Judy was her Irish bodhran, a type of drum that could possibly predate Christianity in its original form, and certainly had evolved to some prominence by the nineteenth century. The bodrhan seems to have originated in southwest Ireland, although there are possible Scottish roots as well. You can play the drum with your hand or with a drumstick called the cipin or tipper. It’s a popular instrument in folk music.
At one point we did a performance together at the apartment building where we lived, Judy on her bodrhan and me playing guitar and singing, before a live audience. It was a treasured moment for both of us, although, I had my doubts about ever doing another performance together. Time would tell.
We packed up her belongings with precision and expedience. It was not yet determined what time exactly the transfer to the new healthcare facility was going to happen. We collectively decided my friend and I would leave and Judy would call me when the transfer was going to take place and that we would meet her at Riverview. While we were packing up, it was quite evident that Judy’s health was rapidly degrading right before our eyes. For now, there was nothing more my friend and I could do except let Judy rest. We would see here next at the new facility. And with that, we left.
It was, for me, an early morning. I liked to arise around “nine o’clockish,” 9:30 in Newfoundland. In case you’re wondering, the Newfoundland reference is a gently humourous reference to Newfoundland’s special time zone on the east coast of Canada which is a half hour out of sync with the rest of the Canadian time zones. What you should know about Newfoundland and Labrador is that they are Canadian geographical and cultural treasures. We went for coffee and a bite. And then we waited for the call.
The call from Judy came at around 2:00 p.m. She was already at Riverview. There was no opportunity to call us before then. Carol and I were on the road in a flash to go over there. I dropped Carol off at the front door of Riverview and parked on the aforementioned side street and then briskly walked to the entrance to meet back up with Carol. From there we quickly located where Judy was and anxiously made our way up to her room. When we saw her, she was looking very depleted and grim. We were then kindly asked if we could leave the room for a few minutes so the staff could get her settled in her room and do an assessment of her condition first hand. We, of course, obliged. What I noticed about the staff was their warmth and graciousness in making their request for us to leave the room. It was almost apologetically and with compassion. They said it would not take too long.
We went to the ward’s multi-functional common room and waited. When Judy was first admitted to the previous hospital, to my surprise, she listed me as a principal contact. While sitting in the common room, a front desk ward staff member approached me to confirm who I was as she had again listed me as one of the principal contacts, which I confirmed. This struck a nerve in me and a few tears welled up in my eyes. Who was I to be one of the principal contacts anyway? We only met at the end of this past summer. It demonstrated to me though how much our relationship had expanded, the trust we now had in one another. It also registered on a profound level now how serious and dire her health situation had become.
After a short while, we were able to go in and see Judy. She was very tired, and we talked briefly. Then we just let her fall asleep and watched over her with great, but still calm concern. After a short while, we departed and headed home. I was very grateful I had Carol with me that day to lend her invaluable support. It had been a tough day for me on many levels.
CHAPTER 7
After the move to Riverview, which was a fair distance from where I lived, it was not possible to go and see Judy every day, although initially, I did for a few days. Shortly after Judy’s admission to her new facility, I met her doctor when he came to talk with Judy, who indicated that my presence was desirable. Like the staff in the ward, he was amazing. The kindness, the warmth and the supportive approach was truly wonderful, and his special expertise with patients in Judy’s situation was remarkable. Judy and I became comfortable with him immediately.
The doctor had a comprehensive strategy to greatly enhance Judy’s health as much as possible. He wasn’t talking about curing her; he was talking about greatly improving her quality of life.
I realized that Judy coming to Riverview was a true blessing. This place was designed for people with critical illnesses. This is not a knock against the hospital where she had spent over five months. That hospital was designed for traditional healthcare and they did it well, but this new facility was exactly where she needed to be. While delivering care with expertise in critical illness situations, it was a positive, loving atmosphere, and there were many potential things a patient could do if they so desired and were able to. I quickly met many genuine and selfless people working there, more than one usually encounters in the outside world. The work being done here at Riverview Healthcare Centre was unlike any other type of health care facility I had observed.
When Judy first arrived, she was in a very grim place health-wise. I have to admit that on a few occasions, I thought I might be witnessing her last breaths.
CHAPTER 8
It was the start of a new day. This time, I was visiting early in the afternoon. The pleasant welcoming spring weather was still here. I knew the possible realities of my visits, but, as always, I tried to be positive in my hope that today we would be able to converse. That possibility always was encouraging and happening much more often.
Since Judy was first admitted to Riverview, under the guidance of her wonderful doctor and her whole new regime of prescribed medications; and supported by the warmth, humanity and proficiency of the various nurses and healthcare aides in the ward, Judy made a stunning rebound from the terrible condition she was in when first admitted.
I thanked God and His universe for this transformation as did Judy. How long these reclaimed days of her life would last was anyone’s guess, but we were making the most of it. After parking, as I walked to the entrance, there he was, the piano player in the window.
Seeing him play brought me surprising joy. It was because of the joy he was emanating as he played. Music is a wonderful thing, whether you’re a player or a listener. It is one of the most universal and civilized things human beings do regardless of culture or position in the world. Music is the bridge for all people. One of my t-shirts reads “Make Music, Not War.” If only it were that easy.
As I continued my walk to Judy’s room, I thought about what the circumstance might be for the piano player. Why was he here in this facility? He has his own story just like everyone on the planet. In going through life, we tend to be so self-consumed in our own lives, we forget each and every one of us has a story. Some stories can be happy. Some can be sad. Some can reflect goodness. Some do not. Some can harbour the spectre of a life that’s been lived selfishly, with meanness, and hate. My story is a work in progress in which I hope to elevate myself to become a better person and maybe set an example. I want to be a positive contributor to our world, but I’ve got a way to go.
And there I was, again, at the precipice of Judy’s door. What was the verdict today? I quietly entered the room and Judy was indeed up and ready to get in her wheelchair and go outdoors. She loved the outdoors and I loved taking her out. After our tender hugs (she was fragile now from the cancer), it wasn’t a simple matter of her jumping out of bed and into the wheelchair. It took the expertise of two hospital aides and an amazing contraption that looked like a very large exercise machine like you would find at a health club. After being tethered to the machine, she was hydraulically lifted from a sitting position on the bed to a standing position, and then swung around gently and placed down in the wheelchair. It was remarkable. Who knew?
From there, she was connected to a portable oxygen tank that gave us up to an hour and a half of together time beyond the room. I was always careful to regularly check the tank when we were out as I never wanted to cut it too close time wise in terms of running out of oxygen. We were now ready to go and what a lovely day it was to go outside. At first we went to the park all the time, but later when the warmer weather was here to stay, they opened up a very large and well appointed outdoor private courtyard for the patients, their visitors and staff. It was adjacent to the large window-filled indoor common room I mentioned earlier and looked out onto the courtyard. I revved up the engines on the wheelchair with a “zoom zoom” and started with a ridiculously fun little burst of speed with Judy providing the cornering sound effects. We would laugh and laugh as we did this. We did this many times.
Once on the main level off the elevator, we wasted no time getting to the main doors and going outside. From there it was a pleasant stroll into the park. We would chat off and on, or Judy would close her eyes to rest and feel the air. I always told her that it was quite okay to do this. We were here together, and that was the point. Nary a word had to be exchanged if she wasn’t up to it.
Being outside like this was reminiscent of our talks outdoors in the late summer and early fall of last year at our apartment building. At this point in time, Judy was physically unable to talk for long periods of time. We still greatly enjoyed our chats nevertheless. It was special as always.
This became our routine when the weather allowed. Otherwise, we would sit by the windows inside the common room and look at and be nurtured by nature. We enjoyed being together anywhere in and around Riverview.
Riverview Healthcare Centre also offered a variety of enjoyable programs. On our outings, when the time was in sync with my visits, we would partake of some of these programs. This included live music performances in the large indoor common room, and art presentations which featured an artist literally creating a sophisticated illustration right before our eyes in the “Kitchen”, the aforementioned common room that was a multi-purpose area in her ward at the centre. The artist was amazing. He probably excelled at playing the old board/drawing game Pictionary.
These were two of our favourite programs. Additionally, Judy liked to play bingo in the “Kitchen.” She didn’t need me present to play and it was a diversion for her from what I would call her long dreary days. Her increasing amount of rest and sleep provided some escape along with my and the visits of others.
Sometimes, in the later afternoon, we would have “dinner” in the common room by the windows looking out onto the courtyard. For a break from the healthcare centre’s meals, I would order food for us from the excellent restaurant service located in the Centre. “Dinner” was usually sharing some tasty fries along with a raspberry/cranberry fruit juice. Judy might eat ten fries at most with ketchup, but she really enjoyed having them. We would chat and laugh as we enjoyed our “meal” and this special time together. When “dinner” coincided with a music show or other events, we would laughingly call it “a show and dinner date.”
In the back of my mind though were always two thoughts: what is her oxygen level and the realization that she was critically ill and the prognosis was her life was coming to an end sooner than later. I wanted her to have the most enjoyable time possible.
CHAPTER 9
Throughout my coming and going to the centre, on numerous occasions I would see the man playing the piano in the window. On days when I did not see him, I could not help but think that maybe he was no longer here with us, given this was a critical illness facility. This saddened me. But, when I would see him on the next visit, I would feel relieved and good about that. His joy in playing had continued to have a positive impact on me. Who was this man of mystery anyway? I had to find out more some time.
On one visit to see Judy, I told her about the man playing piano in the window while we were sitting indoors in the downstairs common room as it was cool outside and raining lightly. She insisted she wanted to see where he played. While not dressed for the weather, she wanted to see where now. I thought about it for a moment and then said, “Okay, let’s do it!” (I give a nod to Nike here). We both shared a big laugh and off outdoors we went.
We laughed the whole time we were outside; “laughter in the rain” as Neil Sedaka sang a long time ago. It was a wonderfully juvenile thing to do. When we got to the window, the man was not playing, but now Judy knew where I was referring to. We made a hasty retreat back inside, laughing all the way.
CHAPTER 10
The internet and Social Media used to be a positive, engaging entity. You could reconnect with friends and make new ones on Facebook. You could read what’s on the minds of people on Twitter (now X). You could enjoy the offerings on YouTube. Add to this Instagram, Tik Tok, Reddit and many others.
Text messaging is a very useful tool. It was a way for Judy and I to communicate with each other without being intrusive at any time. In my overall daily life, texting is a wonderful tool. I don’t use it for things like, “I’m eating a salad right now” etc. I feel texting is intrusive when it’s an endless barrage of messages talking about what I or someone else was doing minute by minute. This is inane, and for me, irritating and a waste of time. I want to use it to convey what I felt was important and leave it at that.
Now though, some social media has descended into a toxic wasteland of lies and hate with an endless bombardment of deceptive advertising, often for dubious products and services. In particular I became very disenchanted with Facebook and Twitter (X). Facebook has unfortunately evolved from a great way to connect with people to a limitless stream of content chosen for you by algorithms. Now, unless they suggest a “Friend,” it’s actually difficult to find someone and connect. Meanwhile, Twitter (X), far from being the deliverer of truth on a global platform, has become so filled with lies, hate and propaganda, it has become deflating to engage on the platform much anymore. And again, algorithms rule the day.
Yes, the internet and social media are worthwhile, but humanity’s involvement and behaviour has long since moved them to a darker place where greed, hate, power and corruption has slowly embedded themselves. While there are so many good people in the world, there are those who have illicit and inhumane agendas. This is no surprise. It’s why we have wars. When something good comes along, it can be used to improve our lives, or it can be used by some for monetization and nefarious purposes. This is my concern about burgeoning Artificial Intelligence (also referred to as AI). Great things could be accomplished with AI, but, not so great things will rise to the surface as well.
Judy and I texted regularly. This was a vital connection in our two different worlds, mine being what was happening in the outside world, her’s being about what was happening inside her world at the Riverview Healthcare Centre. More importantly, it allowed me to easily communicate my personal thoughts about her to her at any time and likewise for her. This took many forms. Sometimes I would send her pictures of flowers or interesting subject matter and more, along with my warm words of caring to her. I always told her, in person and via text, that I was always thinking of her, and not to ever forget this. “Love you to the moon and back” had become an integral part of our communication and relationship.
Back when she was in the hospital I started to gently kiss her on the forehead after asking her permission the first time. As time went on, our embraces became increasingly warm and caring. Then at the healthcare centre, when we hugged, she started kissing me on the cheek or neck. We’re not talking romance here kids. This was genuine friendship on a profound level.
Believe it or not though, there were people who knew she was very ill, yet still thought something more might be going on. This was, of course, ludicrous. Among other things, I could hardly climb into the sophisticated bed with her that only accommodates one person. Then there’s the never ending stream of healthcare workers coming and going. But, people are people and can conjure up all sorts of ridiculousness. I realize it can be difficult for some to accept that a man and a woman can actually just be loving friends. This is why our culture’s media and celebrity obsession, accelerated now by social media, continues to increasingly spiral out of control in the race for sensationalism. More and more, truth is getting harder to find. It now takes much more discernment and effort.
I always wished her goodnight. Sometimes I would design a graphic to send her in the evening expressing this sentiment. We also developed an orange heart, red heart signature for each other. Such was the depth of our friendship. I knew that while she had an improved quality of life for now; thanks to her doctor, the nurses and the aides; this was only temporal. We made the most of this time.
As time marched on, Judy increasingly wanted me to stay longer and longer. I understood this and did my best to be as accommodating as possible. It was getting more difficult to leave at the end of visits. I sometimes even felt a little guilty, although I knew I shouldn’t. I dedicated a lot of my life to her right now, and was glad to do so and grateful for being able to do it. But, I had to be careful not to overextend myself mentally, emotionally and physically. I was no longer a young man. This was a reality. While I am still reasonably healthy, I have some health issues that are potentially going to impact my life sooner than I would like.
I also have a son, grandson, brothers and sisters, and their families, along with friends. It was important to me to not neglect them too much. On top of all this, there was the matter of just living life. Doing all the things you needed to keep moving forward on a day to day basis. Groceries, doctor appointments, paying bills, helping out others; these were necessities that had to be done. This is what makes a critical illness situation for the people surrounding someone who is critically ill so complex.
The hardest part was trying to make some time for myself to unwind, blow off steam and, for me, create. This is a vital element of life we all sometimes neglect and it’s so important to do this and the things we enjoy doing. It allows us to carry on.
CHAPTER 11
An interesting event occurred with regard to the piano player. One day, as I walked by his window, he glanced up and noticed me and nodded to affirm this recognition. I nodded back with a big smile. We continued to look at each other, and I raised my arms and used by fingers as if I was playing an “air” piano. Then I pointed to myself to indicate that I too played piano. His was excited by this and again nodded to me with a big smile. We had connected. We had an instant bonding moment.
Music connects us all, in this case two musicians that played piano. It was a wonderful moment for both of us. This once again demonstrated the power of music in bringing people together regardless of where they lived, their culture or circumstance. If only this attribute of human behaviour could be carried across to the rest of human communication, endeavours and behaviours.
I enthusiastically shared this encounter with Judy the next time I saw her. She happily responded to my story as if she felt this musical connection too. Judy is very much a thoughtful, naturally sensing person. She grasps any situation with tremendous intuition and insight.
Driving home from this visit, I felt very satisfied with the day. Judy and I had a wonderful visit and I knew it really uplifted her and that’s the whole intent on my part; and she uplifted me more than she will ever know. Add to this the connection I made with the piano player in the window, and what more can one ask for? I have so much: food, shelter, good people in my life, enough monetary resources. I don’t want the world. I want a peaceful, non-toxic existence in God’s world. Everything else is superfluous. I’ve never wanted or needed that big house, fancy sports car or other big, so-called status symbols; possessions are not really so big, if you think about it. You do need good health. It’s the key to everything.
Don’t get me wrong; I encourage people, myself included, to try and excel, make a decent living and seek worthy goals. There’s nothing wrong at all with trying to make money or run a profitable business. One of the problems though, is that from birth we get indoctrinated with how our lives should be. The same was true for my parents. We have to have “things” to find self-worth. It’s a big lie, but it sells products and services.
The other big problem is when that line is crossed between need and greed. There’s making an honest buck; and making money, the more the better, at any cost. This is toxic human behaviour, along with the lust for power. It destroys people’s lives, causes wars, fuels hatred and engenders so many other undesirable elements in our world. The band War sang, “Why can’t we be friends?” It’s true. Eliminate this type of behaviour and what a much better place the world would be.
I also stopped to gas up at a station along the route I took to and from the hospital. It often offered, by far, the lowest price on quality gasoline in the area. Today was no exception. Gas was at a great price. Nowadays, of course, when you purchase gasoline you usually have to pay up front, either with a credit or debit card right at the pump, or you go inside and pre-pay the amount you think will fill the vehicle. Like anything else, you get better at judging the amount you need through experience. As I gassed up, I could feel the warm spring sun and the fresh cleansing breeze. What a grand day. Even gassing up was an enjoyable undertaking.
When I did get home and finished dinner, I worked on recording some new music. My place is just a bachelor suite, but I have enough room because I went with the twin size bed and not the queen size. You would always find my keyboard, guitars and other gear efficiently placed. I basically have five quadrants in my suite: my bed; my adjacent music workspace with a computer that I also use for graphic design and communication; a small living room with a loveseat, television, bookshelves and a small dining table; a small but full kitchen; and, of course, a bathroom with full bath. Encompassed by all of this is the surprisingly roomy hallway entrance. I really don’t need much more and cleaning is easy. Even if I came into a good sum of money, I doubt I would move. On the rare occasions when I have one or two people visit, there is sufficient space to seat us all without being on each other’s knee. lol
Doing some recording after the great day I already had, was a wonderful way to celebrate. I don’t use sequencing, midi or other such types of gear, I play and record everything in real time. I enjoy the challenge of doing it this way. I have a terrific and versatile keyboard, good acoustic and electric guitars, guitar effects pedals, a nice studio microphone for vocals
and all sorts of other peripherals. I use a DAW (Digital Audio Workstation) as the interface between the instruments and my computer. It’s how they “talk” to each other. Enough of this boring stuff. What it all enables me to do is create music, my main creative passion.
Finally, around midnight I called it a day and turned on some soft music. As I lay in bed I reflected on this past wonderful day and felt so blessed. From there I went to oblivion confident I was going to see another day.
CHAPTER 12
My dear friend Carol and another friend, Dawn, started to accompany me on my visits about once a week back in the hospital before the move to Riverview. Both Judy and I appreciated them coming to see her. It added a welcome dimension to the visits. For a few weeks we were able to take Judy to the main floor lounge area in the hospital via wheelchair with a portable oxygen tank and play Scrabble. It was once a week like we had done back at the apartment building when Judy first moved in. It was big fun and a nice distraction for Judy and me too.
Unfortunately, we were only able to get four games in before Judy became too ill to play. Carol and Dawn still continued to come once a week with me and we had wonderful visits. I really appreciated their contribution and I know Judy enjoyed their visits with me immensely, and that was of paramount importance to me.
At the same time it became obvious that Judy’s health was declining at an ever accelerating pace. All three of us wondered where all this was going. For myself, I was at a point of realization for the first time that Judy may not ever get better. Nevertheless, Judy was strong of heart, mind, faith and soul, and determined she was still going to get better. She was a fighter indeed. I still strongly supported her in this belief, but now realized there is a possibility that recovery may not happen. I admired her strength and hope. Through all of this she remained the warm and wonderful Judy I had come to know. And we both had strong faith and believed in possibilities, even if they started to diminish a little bit. God and His universe was a place of eternal hope and love. Who knows what is truly going to happen? In life you can always expect the unexpected, sometimes bad, but sometimes good.
Over the course of my visits I met one of her sons and his wife and other family members. All of them were smart, engaging and quite friendly. However, when she received visitors like this, I would excuse myself pretty quickly and leave. Why? Because this was family and I did not in any way want to hinder their visits. As close as Judy and I now were, I was not family and I had previously decided to not stand in the way of family. I wanted them to be able to communicate with Judy freely as only family can. They would always insist I stay, but I would gracefully leave after a few minutes. This was their time.
Judy continued to decline. I was all in to support her, whatever it took. One night back at the hospital, as I was about to leave, I witnessed a medical event that, to be honest, was scary to me, and of course, even more so to Judy. Her heart started racing. One hundred and twenty beats per minute, then one hundred and thirty, and finally all the way up to one hundred and forty-four. The hospital staff dealt with the situation calmly and with expedience. They gave her some medication, and after what seemed to be an eternity, the medication did its job and her heart rate came down.
During this whole time, we held hands. For the first time ever, I thought, is this the end? Judy told me after things returned to normal, relatively speaking, the thought crossed her mind too. It was a horrible experience for her. This event occurred in her third month in the hospital. It did not bode well. I stayed with her for a good while after until we both believed that the medical event had passed and she was okay.
I had remained calm and focused while all this was happening as I wanted to reassure Judy that everything was going to be okay, even though I was far from thinking that. Once I said goodnight and got outside to walk to my car, I took more than one deep breath. The crisp winter air tonight felt good for a change. I was able to fairly quickly discharge my adrenaline driven angst. Now, I was just tired and drove home. And yes, I was fine to drive. If I didn’t think I was up to it, I would have called a cab or taken a bus, although bus service would not be great at this time of night. A long walk was on the table too. Like later at Riverview Healthcare Centre, for the same reasons, I parked on a fairly nearby street and even though it was winter, I usually didn’t mind the walk. Besides, it was good for me. lol
CHAPTER 13
Now, you may be wondering why, really, I was doing this for someone who I had basically known for only a month before the first medical event that sent her to the hospital. While I don’t have to explain myself, I will try to.
You see, I am trying to evolve as a person. I am seeking a better place for my life and I was getting there. I had worked to remove as much stress as possible as I found it to be pretty toxic and very damaging to me mentally, emotionally and physically. I’m sure there are many who can relate to this. Stress for me was particularly damaging.
For better or worse, I haven’t totally figured this one out yet, I try to be kind, helpful, have empathy and elevate others. I want people to cooperate with each other, which is why I struggle with some human behaviours. Can’t people see that by working together life for everyone will be better? Why does humanity keep being so self-destructive? It really does not accomplish anything. Avarice, the seeking of power, self-centredness, jealousy and so on; these are not good behaviours. We end up destroying each other because of our wanton wants.
I am what I am and I genuinely want to keep progressing as a person, and peacefully co-exist in this world. I have no problem with religion and spiritual beliefs. I have my own. The problem with religion is not religion; the problem is how people use religion. We’ve always used it to justify many of the horrible things we do.
I have sincere spiritual beliefs. However, I realize others may have different ones. I accept that, so we don’t have kill each over this. Live and let live. As long as my beliefs do not directly and adversely impact your life or your belief system mine, let’s agree to disagree, and live in peace and cooperate to make the world a better place for every human on the planet. I can make people aware of my beliefs as can you of yours, but I want to live in peace with you. No need to fight about it. In the end, we all will see where our faith takes us.
So, I’m striving to continually improve as a person. As I live and gain experience, I keep learning and I am convinced goodness, kindness, empathy, spiritual development and more are necessary ingredients to have a more fulfilling and successful life. But, like everything in life, it takes effort.
These are some of the reasons I chose to spend the amount of time I did with Judy. There is one other key factor. We profoundly connected in a way I had not really experienced before. In God and His universe, both of us found something very special in each other. My heart and my head totally agreed to take the path I was taking. It was intuitive and natural. I have never doubted my commitment to seeing Judy regularly like I do. Sure, there were some days I was very tired, but enough energy was always there when it came time to go and see Judy. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
CHAPTER 14
The now consistent warmth of spring allowed for the opening of the exquisite outdoor court yard at Riverview. It was a delightful place for Judy and I to go and spend time on my visits. She loved being outdoors. The texture of nature is embedded in her soul.
The court yard felt like a very nice, somewhat exclusive outdoor patio. It was big and provided an earthy, connected with nature feel, as it was encompassed by a variety of plants and trees. The round outdoor tables with bright sky blue and lively yellow centre umbrellas offered roomy seating for six. There were maybe eight of them. Other important amenities included a half oval raised area which had smaller tables and I have no doubt once summer was here, it would be utilized for live music and other types of events and activities. You could go for a short walk amongst the trees along a pathway adjacent to the court yard. If you had young kids, they could play in the playground area. There was no shortage of benches, chairs and rocking benches throughout the area. One of Judy’s favourite things was the little waterfall and pond that housed lovely looking Koi fish with their resplendent colours. Finally, there was a small, roofed, but open sided eating area with a very large Napoleon barbecue.
The court yard was a very special place at Riverview. I sometimes said to Judy when we were sitting at a patio table, to close her eyes and pretend we were at a high end, ocean side patio restaurant. What a wonderful moment of escapism for both of us together.
With Judy’s health starting to decline at an accelerated rate, this was the place for us to go now. The pretty park in the front of the healthcare centre was out of reach now given her further weakened status. We would chat, but there was less chat now and more rest. We still would have the occasional “dinner date” inside without the show. It still brought us the enjoyment of chatting over dinner. It was fun, and more that ever I wanted Judy to enjoy her time as much as possible. Her happiness brought me great pleasure, happiness and gratefulness that I have had her in my life no matter how long it was going to be for.
Judy enjoyed our short excursions along the court yard pathway and we did it many times.
One of the architectural aspects I enjoyed was the natural stately cedar fencing which enclosed the courtyard and indeed many other outdoor areas around Riverview. This fencing added immensely to the overall natural outdoor feel that abounds throughout the healthcare centre’s grounds.
It is no accident that this is how the whole complex is designed, this warm earthy feel. It’s to have a peaceful, healing and caring environment for the patients who find themselves here.
CHAPTER 15
Judy and I did have an opportunity to play music together again one more time with Judy on the bodhran drum and me on guitar and singing. I arranged for us to do a “show” in the “Kitchen” in her ward at Riverview Healthcare Centre for the patients in the ward and a few others. It meant a lot to me and Judy to be able to do this again. And what a grand time it was.
We played for a full hour to a very receptive audience who seemed to genuinely enjoy the performance. I learned later from staff that we could have played for another hour if we wanted to. Apparently, the patients on the ward loved to listen to live music.
However, after an hour, Judy had run out of steam. Besides, I had run out of my beverage (sorry, non-alcohol lol) by then, which was necessary for vocal lubrication. My voice needs all the help it can get.
Whenever I perform, I like to close with “Hey Jude” (a hugely famous Beatles’ song). It features a simple, easy to sing along with chorus at the end that can go on for as long as you would like. It’s the end sing-along aspect of this terrific tune that makes it an ideal closing song as people, whether or not they can sing well, can wail away at the top of their lungs. What a wonderful way to end a show, everybody happily singing along together.
This show was no exception. Everyone in the “Kitchen” whole heartedly sang along. We all left feeling good, if only for a moment. It was another treasured time for me and Judy. I will always cherish the picture of the two of us playing taken by my friend Dawn, who was at the show along with Carol.
CHAPTER 16
Speaking of music, it was around this time that I decided to try and find out more about the man playing piano in the window. We were now almost always acknowledging each other when he was there playing. I know, kind of hard to do so when he’s not playing. lol
At Riverview Healthcare Centre, there is a lovely, multi-denominational chapel at one end along with a patient hair salon and a beautiful solarium sitting room for patients and their visitors with massive coated windows so you could see and feel the sun directly without overheating. I came to realize that the other set of doors at that end accessed the ward where I saw my “Piano Man” (thank you, Billy Joel).
One day I decided to go through these doors to the front desk of the ward to try and learn about him. This is when I became aware that these were restricted access doors, so I could not open them without being accompanied by a healthcare centre employee. Curious, I thought. I decided to not pursue this further at this time.
A few days later, I again went to the ward with the restricted entrance. This time, I was able to meet up with an appropriate employee and asked her about why the doors to the piano man’s ward were locked. Like virtually every other employee I met at Riverview, she was very approachable, friendly, and helpful with a nice educational touch. She explained that the doors were secured for this ward because it housed patients with memory/cognitive issues (illnesses such as Alzheimer’s disease). She further explained exiting the ward was also secure out of concern for these patients wandering off unaccompanied.
I had heard of this type of secured entrance/exit before from my music performing experiences at seniors’ care homes. I occasionally went out and played and sang at these types of venues and I remember not being able to get out of the building after my first performance at one. One of the staff at the care home came and explained the secured door concept to me. There was an ever-changing code you had to enter in order to get out of the facility. Like at Riverview, it was to ensure residents with cognitive/memory issues could not wander off unaccompanied. It made perfect sense. Who knew?
A sense of sadness struck me. There was a pretty good chance my piano man suffered from some sort of worsening cognitive/memory issue. I was very sad for him. He loved to play, but maybe he had very little remembrance of his joy after he finished playing. I was also saddened to think that even though our connections were genuine in the moment, he may not remember them as well.
Life is arbitrary and unfair. This familiar phrase is so true. To be deprived of happiness and joy because your mind diminishes in this way is terrible. You get locked out from your own happy memories by your own brain. Add to this the declining cognitive function; it must be very frustrating to live with this affliction for both you and those around you. And to think you are aware of this happening until nearly the end must sometimes be exasperating.
We can think we are invincible when we’re young, some of us for most of our life even, but there is no shortage of ways for life to take a person down at any age. Yet, some of humanity is still afflicted with destructive arrogance. Don’t people realize how small we really are in comparison to the universe? We should be humble, not arrogant. This whole “life” thing is almost beyond conceptualization and appreciation. Maybe that’s why some turn to arrogance and bullying; to try and have some sense of personal strength and control over the world. But, it’s delusionary and it’s wrong. We need to respect and care about each other. The kind of caring I witness every time I’m at Riverview Healthcare Centre.
I was disappointed to realize the apparent plight of my piano man. Then I had a nice thought. Even if it was in the moment only, he still experienced some joy while playing and likewise whenever we connected through the window. It brought a smile to my face that maybe I was able to contribute to his life in a positive manner in some way. I was encouraged by this and determined to carry on with our relationship be it as it may.
CHAPTER 17
My visits with Judy continued. I was still happy and grateful to be able to see her on a regular basis. I knew time was running short as Judy’s accelerating decline was becoming even quicker. We did not converse much anymore. She was just too weak. We would sit outside in the court yard at Riverview and she would close her eyes and feel the breeze and life in nature.
From time to time, she would open her eyes, look at me in that special way, and warmly smile. We still had this wonderful connection, and we would always have it. I would nod and smile back at her with all my heart.
“Love you to the moon and back.” We shared this phrase with each other to the very end.
It was a Monday afternoon when I next visited Judy. It was a wonderful day to be outdoors. We had yet another very nice time together. We sat outside that day for an hour and a half until she was almost out of oxygen. I took her back to the ward in her wheelchair and we went into the “Kitchen.” She liked to hang in there. It was a good break from the long hours she spent in her comfortable room.
Her room was filled with family photos and mementoes, gifts, flowers, magazines and more. It was to give her a sense of “being at home.” This is yet another wonderful aspect of Riverview’s patient care, and her family had gladly and generously provided most of the items to create this “home.” It was lovely.
In the “Kitchen,” one of the health aides expediently changed her oxygen tank. Once she was settled in there, she knew I would be leaving. We hugged each other tenderly. I kissed her on the forehead. She kissed me on the neck. I quietly told her, “Love you to the moon and back.” Judy gathered what little strength she still had and replied, “Love you to the moon and back.” I told her I would be back on Wednesday. I smiled warmly and tenderly at her and quietly left, again, as always, thanking the staff for the care they are giving Judy as I walked past the ward’s reception area on the way out.
I had designed and had professionally printed a customized Thank You card which, along with some nice chocolates, I gave to the staff in the ward the previous week to show my appreciation for them and all that they were doing for my Sweet Judith. My heart and head had no problem agreeing on doing this.
As I drove back to my apartment, our close friendship rolled through my brain like an IMAX movie. While what was happening to Judy was, of course, very sombre and saddening for me, I recalled the numerous “good times” we shared in the midst of this difficult journey. I would not trade it for the world. I was a better person as a result, and know Judy is a true friend on a profound level that you rarely find in life. I also know how much she appreciates my genuine friendship and how much it means to her.
As I pulled into the parking lot at home on that Monday, I also realized Judy’s heart is still filled with her loving, caring and giving nature in spite of everything. What I did not know at the time is today would be the last time I would ever see Judy.
CHAPTER 18
On the Wednesday following that Monday, I received a phone call from the wife of one of Judy’s sons around nine o’clock in the morning. Judy had passed away last night. I immediately offered my condolences to her and the family and said if they needed my help in any way, please let me know. This is customary, but I really meant it.
My emotions were plentiful and diverse. I was so sorry Judy passed away, but I was happy knowing the pain and suffering she endured was over. I believe she’s gone somewhere much better than this planet into God’s universe. It is my faithful belief and hope that I too, when I leave this planet, will likewise move into God’s universe. Maybe I will even see Judy again in some way. This all is an unknown that will never be resolved on this planet.
Nevertheless, even though this was expected, you’re never ready for it. The sense of loss, however it reveals itself to you, is staggering and overwhelming. I’m still working through it and I don’t really know how long it will take. I will ultimately move on, but I must be patient. To be sure though, I will never forget and will always feel Judy.
I’ve been fortunate. I have never lost a sibling. I have lost both of my parents. I remember and love my mother, but it is my dad that I really miss to this day. He passed away quite some time ago, and while I have long gone on with life, he is never far away from my thoughts and being, and this is a good thing in so many ways.
I remember I was pretty stoic at first when he passed away. I concentrated on the tasks at hand which is my nature. But a few weeks later, as I was driving somewhere, the loss hit me like a ton of bricks. I started to cry and cry, so much so that I pulled over and stopped. This was “the moment.” There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The feelings had to come out. I learned this is necessary so that you can carry on in life. As time passes, you really will feel better again. Time heals. This was a seminal moment for me. While I don’t remember where I was going, I clearly remember where I pulled over. I also remember it was day time.
I was grateful to have received the phone call about Judy’s passing so quickly because they wanted to let me know first so that I would not hear it second hand. Her family recognized we had a special relationship for which I am thankful. I always stood aside though when it came to her family and their wishes. I was not ever going to be a hindrance to them. They were family. I also naturally presumed they would now let others know with expedience.
CHAPTER 19
Judy was a delight, an amazing person in the ways I have described, and a remarkable close friend. We touched each other in a profound way I will always treasure. I loved her as a friend and she loved me as a friend.
So, for better or worse, life goes on. I am, more than ever, committed to continue to grow in a positive way that is beneficial to people in my own small way. Love, caring, sharing, mutual support, respect; this is the path I want to continue to take in my journey. I think these characteristics should be most prevalent in human relationships; not hate, avarice, lust for power, war, jealousy and so on.
We supposedly have brains with the ability to reason. Well, we don’t do a good job utilizing this ability. Why can’t the world see we would be much better off working together in peace and harmony and accept each other as we are? We don’t always have to agree, but we can cooperate and civilly work disagreements out. What good does it do to harm or kill each other? Such is the conundrum that is our world. We can’t ever give up trying to do better. This is the path that humankind must take. This is where hope lives.
Judy, my dear Sweet Judith, I already greatly miss you and always will, and I am glad for this. When I think of you, it takes me to a very good and happy place. I will always remember the unconditional support we gave each other. And whenever I think of you I will think of: “Love you to the moon and back.”
CHAPTER 20
About a month before Judy passed away, I started working on a song called “Don’t Want to Say Goodbye (Moon Beams).” I started to write the music with the lyric line that is the title. However, while I recorded a piano track with some strings, I did not want to continue lyrically. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew what I wanted to say, but it was too much for me at the time. I left it as an instrumental, but did not release it to the music streaming services (Spotify, Apple Music etc.) to be publically played.
About a week and half before her passing, I woke up one morning and the lyrics poured themselves out of me. The words came to me so quickly and easily I had a hard time keeping up as I wrote them down. Now I understood why I did not release the instrumental. It was God and His universe’s way of telling me I wasn’t done with the song. I was glad about the way it worked out. I then recorded the vocal and added instruments to the arrangement and did the mixing and mastering. It was ready for the world now.
Following are the words to this song. I think it accurately captures my feelings for Judy and how I felt about her impending passing in a thoughtful way. You’ll have to decide for yourself though.
“Don’t Want to Say Goodbye (Moon Beams)”
The clock runs fast, or so it seems
Don’t want to say goodbye
We have become so very close
Our minds meet in the sky
Our universe connects as one
I do not question why
The clock runs fast, or so it seems
Don’t want to say goodbye
You light the world with your moon beams
Don’t want to say goodbye
I know we will meet once again
Somewhere beyond the moon
Just be patient, our time will come
We will reunite soon
The clock runs fast, or so it seems
Don’t want to say goodbye
Don’t want to say goodbye
Don’t want to say goodbye
Moon beams
By the way, my name is Glenn.
The World According to Glissando 