Gary Chronicles - He Broke My Car (Related Part 3)

So you have to read He Broke My Car in order to understand this.  However, his birthday was 2 days ago and he decided to make himself known.  Not that he hasn't right along.  He loved the kettle I have in the kitchen...the electric one that heats water to nuclear.  That has come on out of the blue.  No one near it.  No one, I said.  Random drawers open in my bedroom.  Whenever.  I close them, he opens them.  I close them, they open in the middle of the night.  Listen, believe what you want.   Ok...but that's not the story.

My friend will remember that one time I went out to listen to music with him and couldn't find my keys to my car.  I had to punt and take my roommate's car.  So my keys are an ongoing issue.  OK, I am the issue and it manifests most often as my keys.  They were missing for a solid 3 months before I found them.  But that's not the story, either.

I have a Ford Edge that I adore.  It came with 2 fobs.  You all prolly have them.  Lock, unlock, alarm, etc.  Once upon a time, when my brother, Gary, broke my car he INSISTED it was the fob.  It wasn't the fob then, nor was it when I had it fixed.  This story is because it was the fob this time!

I told him.  I told him the fob ran out of juice before.  My car tells me it's gonna happen.  A nice little message pops up and says the battery is getting low.  That very thing happened yesterday!  So tonight, I went and got batteries (2 batteries per fob) and decided it was best just to get it out of the way.  I proceed to take apart fob one.  I replace the batteries.  Of note, that little key inside, that was there.  Read He Broke My Car, it will all make sense.

Anyway, I replace the batteries and go to put the fob back together.  Luckily, I am having a day where I am patient.  I'm not even cussing!  I know!  So it's just not going back together.  It's apart in so many ways I can't explain but I am not able to figure out how to get it back together.  The little do-da that holds a keychain will not go back together.  I can't do without it because, keychain!  I work with it, patiently.  For a rather long time.  Pause...

My sister, Gary's sister, her brother...that one....Kristy and I are talking about something else.  Of course, by text.  I don't want to actually talk on a phone.  That's for alllll the birds.  Anyway, random conversation by text is happening.  Finally, my patience is taking a small hit so I tell her that HER brother is an asshole and I am trying to put the fob back together, because it really IS the fob this time, and he is fucking with me!  See, he made me start cussing.  She mentions that there seems to be a problem with Gary now being HER brother.  I didn't see how that is related, but whatever.

Now that I have cussed, him specifically, I am able to mind meld it and figure out what I am doing wrong and I put the fob right back together like it was never a thing.  All done.  I needed to cuss him.  He needed to know that I recognized that is WAS the fob, this time.  It was his birthday present, apparently. Ok already.  It was finally the fob.  Law of averages said it would be, sooner or later.

Both fobs now have 2 new batteries.  That should last them for a good long time.  Know what?  Next time it is the fob again, my car will tell me again, because that is what my car does!

To Kristy's brother.  You're an ass.  Love, Hopie.

Gary Chronicles - Event 16 - The Boat Batteries & Coffee Tables

Remember: $14K.......

So there was a boat.  A car, too but this is about batteries.

Remote control drones, remote control cars, remote control boats.  The boat.

The boat was pretty big and designed so it could be out on the water in the lake, obviously.  Guntersville Lake. (GO! It is beautiful.) It was pretty cool, I have to admit.  I am 5'3".  The boat was probably 4' long.  I didn't lay next to it for exact numbers.

NOW, the boat had been ordered and so had the remote control car.  This kid had reviewed the batteries and connections. The batteries I'm talking about are about 8" long x 1.5" thick.  This is an estimate I can't prove, but it's close enough for who it's for.  He decided that some of the batteries wouldn't connect and special batteries needed to be purchased.  Also, connection attachments to connect them.  He was right on a couple, but he was largely wrong about it. They nearly all fit.  Now he had a zillion batteries. I am betting this group of purchases were WAY more expensive than any legos.....

The boat came and the unboxing started.  It was my turn to be on the floor taking orders and putting things together.  Even the directions on how to put the boat together weren't needed. ...Ahem... G started pulling the boat apart.  The outer shell was taken off so he could get to the guts.  He thought THIS gadget was the one that regular batteries wouldn't fit. He works in his order, a combination of engineer and metastatic brain.  I just tried to follow along.

He started working the batteries and couldn't connect them.  See, he need the adapter.  Can I try, says the big sister who isn't mechanically inclined.  He hands it off, I turn the battery to change connection directions and it connects like butter. High five from the boy.  I feel I appear super smart at this point.  He's surprised I knew something, I feel certain.

Later, when we aren't on the floor anymore, the plethora of batteries and connectors needed to charge.  Remember, the boy likes everything around him.  Underfoot, around him.  Kristy comes back to start plugging in all the things.  NOW the boy was bent set on charging all of them and then organizing them somewhere.  What he really meant was to charge them and keep them somewhere they wouldn't loose charge quickly.

G: KRISTY?! Will you go get that little cooler that is in the garage?  The blue and white one.  

K: You mean the one that is Hopie's? 

G: is that your's Hopie? 

H: yes but you can use it.

As batteries charge, he put them all in a stack.  He asks for a couple freezer packs.  He then delicately stacks batteries, freezer packs, rinse repeat, until all the batteries are in the cooler.  The cooler has to be open though because it won't close, says he.  So I went over and closed it.  Big eyes, probably surprised that I am smart enough to judge the space well enough to know it will close. Smart two whole times in a row!

I put the boat in his office.  It took up nearly all of the space that was left to walk in the office.  It should be noted that in every story told, Meg's house is a jumbled mess where no surface is blank.  I am pretty sure she walks through the house looking only straight ahead so as not to start swinging an ax and kill every inanimate object in the living room.  She was ridiculously gracious to have the sisters in her house for 2 months.  Kristy and I were living in the guest room and couch.  Things get cluttered.  They coffee table was a mess.  Kristy and I even discussed that today was the day we needed to clean it off and start fresh again.

G had anxiety issues his whole life.  As you may imagine, his anxiety was slightly heightened with his diagnosis.  A little.  A smidge.

Remember that everything in the world is around his chair.  Tables, metal arms, monitors, drinks OH and dip cups.  How did I forget that?  Ick. Moving on, a cooler full of batteries and all of his blankets.  

If he was in his recliner, he was covered.  There were 3 blankets that had to be on him in a certain order.  The bigger thing about the blankets was he would get out of his chair and just let them fall to the floor and step over them.  They never tripped him.  I have NO idea how he avoided that.  The point of this is to tell you that the mess around him, regularly, in varying states of gross was profound.

I asked him if I could take anything away, put it away.  NO, he wanted all of it around him.  This turned into a mildly spirited conversation about the abundance of shit and blankets around him.  As he is "discussing" and walking through his obstacle course he starts this conversation.  Me not wanting him to trip and all.  I'm probably stupid on this one.

G: Hopie I've been anxious and you know what you could do for me?  

H: Sure. What?

G: The coffee table is really bothering me.  Could you clean it off?

H: (know that my voice will be increasing in volume) The table?!  The coffee table?

G: yes

H: The coffee table is the thing stressing you out?  You have every half done thing taking up space, sure to make you trip?  The coffee table is what's got you worked up?  The coffee table!?

I think I blacked out for a minute because I can remember the face he was making but I don't remember what else was said or whether or not smacked him.  I think the coffee table was cleaned off by Kristy and me and I think this is where I moved some things from around him.  I also figured out I hadn't smacked him.

I wanted to kill him but I didn't want him die from a fall.  That makes perfect sense.

And so go the stories of the lunatic on the floor with legos, can't put batteries in straight, tangled blanket having, running through the woods with cancer, $14K spending, smart ass. 

That's it.  The batteries and the coffee table.

Gary Chronicles - Event 15 - He broke my car (Related to Event 2 - the Fob)

Did your mother ever say you have busy hands?  Mine didn't.  She just smacked the shit out of them.

The Louk men have busy hands.  If there is a gadget, FOB, dial, shifter, computer, chair, do-da, thingambob,...blah blah blah, they have to touch and play with it and figure it out.

Remember the Fob?  Here is the back story of Gary breaking my car.  Which is why the car didn't start in Florida and it still wasn't the fob.

A perfect sibling car ride.  I, the oldest was driving.  Gary, the next was shotgun.  Kristy, little sister in the back.  Keep that picture in your mind, you'll need it later.

Maybe a 1/4 mile from Gary's house is a gas station and convenience store.  This isn't a convenience store story, this time.  Alabama sits on the surface of the sun so when I pull up to get gas and turn off the car.  I make sure the windows are down.  Gary is moving around a lot.  I peek in the driver's side and ask him if he needs anything.  No, Hopie, I am just looking at everything.  Busy hands.

I get in the car all filled up.  Foot on brake, push button to start. Nothing.  Not one thing.  No flash from the computer, completely dead.  I turn immediately and say LOUK, what did you do?  Nothing Hopie I was just looking at stuff.  (Here is where you need remember where we are all located in the car.) Just as you would expect the little sister from the back seat says HOPIE he pressed the start button like 25 times.  My teeth were gritted, for a visual.

We argue back in forth some, voice(s) raised, at lease mine.  Well, we obvious need to jump start the car.  Of course, we had to do the required, engineer girlsplain and the nurse mansplain. Little sister staying out of it.  She's a smart girl.  It comes to the flash point.

G says he has a little do-da that you charge up and it holds charge and you keep it in the car.  It's awesome.  I said, clearly I don't have that do-da. G says he does, back at the house.  I said, go get it.  Big eyes first.  G says there is a short cut through the woods,  I say, get going, we will be right here.

So 90 lbs soaking wet with a brick in his pock trounces through the woods.  You're probably thinking, she made her dying of cancer wisp of a brother go through the woods to walk home?!  Umm...yeah!  I sure did!  Just because he's dying he isn't any less a busy hands breaking shit.  You broke it.  You fix it.  Also, there was exactly ZERO guilt on my part. 

He rode back on one of his 4-wheelers and the do-dah jump starts the car.  Kristy and I go to Advanced Auto and whatever the other one that is popular. They read codes to see what's up.  I know what's up.  Busy GD hands!  That's what up!  Of course, by the time we got to either of these places the battery had a chance to charge back up a bit.  No codes thrown.  I knew he had shorted out the battery with his busy hands.  We were to leave for Florida the next day.  We would be driving all day and that would keep the battery charged up.  It did.

Anyway, Kristy and I get home from the places and G starts.  This back and forth with comments and questions. It wasn't a calm ask a question, give an answer....nope.

G: what did they say?  What codes came up?  I guarantee some code should come up.  There is a guy I know down the road and that sumbitch will put it on his computer and the right codes will come up.

Me: the battery had time to charge back up some.  No codes came up because of that.  They have the same machine as your guy, I feel certain it is the battery.....then I start to lose a millimeter of control and come undone....

I'm yelling in an escalating fashion: Is it so difficult to believe that perhaps, MAYBE, on an off chance, that you fucking around with it created this problem????  

I need for all of you to know...I was holding so much back.  I really was trying.  I wanted to slap him and shake him cartoon style.

While this is happening Kristy is backing out of the room, Meg takes the dogs and goes into her room and shuts the door.  I'm the only mama left and no one else can talk to him that way.  Poor Meg.  She has been the girl taking the brunt of his labile moods for 2 years. 

So we yell and then don't and then are fine.  Later he is talking to a friend on the phone and I am out of the room.  Kristy hears him say I guess I broke Hopie's car.  YOU SURE DID YOU LITTLE SHIT!

Busy. Hands.

Gary Chronicles - Event 14 - Lego's

Remember last event I mentioned $14K spent in a month?  30 days to be exact.  $14K

So, 6 sets of Lego's.  Apparently the boy loved lego's (this is the first Meg has ever heard of this in25 years) and had always wanted to build things with them.  Who even knows how much these sets contributed to the $14K.  Relatively little in the great scheme, probably.  Know how lego building kits come as a specific thing to build?  A dump truck, plane, tank, something or another Star Wars?  Anyway, 6 sets.

Next were doweled shelving and plastic bins for the lego's to be stored in.  I couldn't understand it.  I don't think the sisters (in-laws and out-laws this time) understood what he was doing either.  So to review we have so far:

    6 builder sets of lego's

    2 tall dowel shelving sets

    Multiple plastic bins

Keep up here.  There will be twists and turns, I promise.  We awoke one morning to find that he had ordered one of those standing tool shelving units.  You know the Craftsman ones with a smaller one on the top and a large one with casters on the bottom?  Those. They are only ancillary to the story, just know they were there.  There was a contentious moment between one of his friends, our sister Kristy and anyone else who was in the room where he wanted the upper tool shelf placed on one of his desks WIDTH length. 

He said long ways on the depth, people who were reasonable said it would hang partly over the edge because the desk wasn't that deep.  Anyway, it ended up the way he wanted.  Now back to our story.

Lego's.  Right.  Boxes were coming in every day.  The three women in the house were irritated on the regular about things coming in from Amazon, but there we were!  The lego sets started coming in.  We would start unboxing these for a few days and there would be these 6 boxes of lego sets.  He wanted everything around him.  Around the recliner that already had two tables with various arms and implements to bring a monitor directly in front of him, drinks in varying stages of waste, a small stand for his phone.  He was surrounded. He wanted the kits around him.  And so it was.

He decided one day that he would start unpacking them.  The outlaw and inlaw and I were having nightmares of little lego's everywhere and one of the dogs eating one and surgery and calamity!  He was still going to unpack them.  He told KRISTY?! to go and get the plastic bins.  She did.  He proceeded to sit on the floor with Kristy and start unpacking all of them.  Envision yourself with each bag of separated parts for you to pull from "a" bag for this part and "b" bag for that part.  You know, separated.  To build it more easily.  Separated.

He began to pull bags apart and start loading lego's into plastic bins.  The women in the room scratching their heads as he just opened each bag and cavalierly tossed them in this bin or that.  When he had done that for an entire building set, he pushed the box aside and opened the next.  THEN he started with the bags again and started pouring them into the plastic bins!  OK, WAIT.  None of the parts were being labeled and he was arranging them in the bins by like pieces.  Kristy had that "WTF are you doing" look on her face.  We asked, why in the world was he removing the organization of these kits and mixing everything up?  There was a good answer, he didn't want to make any of the things in the boxes.  He wanted to build his own things out of the lego's.  WHAT?  It should be said here that he was brilliant and a mechanical engineer.  In another time every woman in the room would have rolled her eyes, lamented his intelligence and walked away.  Right now, though...not so much.

While he and KRISTY!? kept unpacking parts, Meg would hide an unopened box and Kristy did the same when she could get away from the lunatic on the floor with lego's. He managed to get 4 of the 6 boxes open and taken apart before the hiding had concluded.

Those bins needed to be up in his office so the dogs couldn't get into them.  They took up residence next to the big read Craftsman tool box that was hanging off the edge of the desk because he got his way.  They couldn't be around his chair.  Thank the stars.  

Fast forward to me coming home after he died.  I was doing some straightening up.  I got the dust buster out for one reason or another and went to empty the collection chamber.  As it poured into the trash can a yellow lego came rushing out with the dust. The picture was taken and Meg and Kristy got their smile for the day.  That guy.....

Gary Chronicles - Event 13 - The Morning He Decided - Hospice House

My sweet sister just finally read through these.  She said she was back in the room.  We both go back to the room from time to time.

Kristy and I were gone from our homes for 2 months.  2!  That's a long time to not sleep in your own bed. Meg, Kristy and I danced around the question....Jesus Christ how much longer!?

No one wants to have someone die faster, usually.  This is the hospice lesson, questioning how much longer you can keep pace is a very reasonable question.  The whole village, it took all of us to take care of him.  He spent $14K in the last 30 days of his life.  He had brain metastasis meaning the cancer spread to his brain.  He lost sight in one eye.  His hearing was fine one day, for shit the next day, complete with turning the TV up so loud the dust wanted to leave the house!

Getting him to accept hospice was an uphill push.  He kept asking why I was so gung-ho about it.  So, I dropped it until he was ready.  Everyone who came by from hospice was very nice.  He wasn't a huge fan of the social worker.  I think, she thought that social working was social time.  She answered her phone for clearly non-work related calls and he was all done with her.  His consistent nurse case manager was excellent.  She had a great way of making things his idea and presented with options always.  (Married men, you should know that this is a woman skill that has been used on you, repeatedly, and will continue to be, because it works.  This or hearing it out of another man's mouth.) We talked about the in-patient unit for when he was ready.  He stayed resistant to the in-patient unit until he didn't.

On a Sunday, he was having increased pain.  We weren't able to keep up with it and he was frustrated.  We called the hospice and the nurse called us back to triage over the phone.  Luckily, it was his case manager who was on call that weekend so she called us back.  I stayed out of the way and the conversation. The nurse spoke to my sister (the go-between as assigned by Gary) about his pain and getting it getting worse and all the things.  Somehow I got the phone in my hands.  I asked the nurse if she would talk to him directly about the need for the in-patient unit.  She did and she convinced him.  I took the phone back and we scheduled the time we would arrive at the in-patient unit.

So I mentioned to everyone that our scheduled time in would be in about 4-ish hours.  You see, the boy couldn't do anything quickly.  He had to ease into the idea.  Then he had to ease into the idea of the idea happening.  Then he needed to ease into it happening.  Then he had to ease into it being done in a certain time.  Then he had to ease into the idea of getting ready.  You get what I am saying.... this was an amplification of him usually, it wasn't just after cancer came along, that just made it worse.  Ask anyone who knew him...Did Gary need amplification?.... go ahead, take your time, you'll come up with the answer.

Meg asked him if he would like her to pack his backpack for him and he said yes.  She knew what he would want, knew what to pack and did it.  In true Louk form, he then questioned every damned thing she could possibly put in it.  Headphones, pjs, phone charger, on and on.  I won't tell you about the computer equipment he thought he would need.  It's too much.

On the way there he wanted to stop at a convenience store.  Apparently, when he was traveling for work he would stop at these gas station convenience stores and buy an egg salad or tuna salad sandwich.  You know the ones that come in a little triangle package?  So those.  When I look at one of those all I can think about is the misery of a mayo induced case of food poisoning.  **shiver**. So he opted for 2 sandwiches, egg and tuna. I'm still shivering and almost gagging.

Once we arrived at the in-patient unit, Shepherd's Cove, he proceeded to eat BOTH sandwiches in the car before we could go in.  He was riding with Meg so I don't know the conversation around all that, BUT I bet Meg was just doing a lot of nodding.  Just nod and smile and get to the place.  Rinse...repeat.  2 sandwiches.  2.  This is the kid who couldn't drink a whole boost.  2 sandwiches.  Gross ones.  With mayo.  From the convenience store.  Down the hatch like a pelican with its beak strait up and swallowing furiously.  I don't know if he thought no one would ever feed him again or what but, 2.

Louk men are all the same.  They are fun, funny, infuriating, fun loving, infuriating, clever, infuriating, witty.  He walks into the Cove and struts up to the end of the hallway where the nurses station is.  Along the way folks have been telling him that is room is BACK that way.  We passed it. His reply was that he needed to get the lay of the land and find the exits.  **3 sets of eyes rolling**

Once we were in his room, he got settled, the staff came in to introduce themselves and HE told them all the rules.

He knew when he walked through the door he wasn't coming out.  The three of us knew it, too.

Gary Chronicles - Event 12 - Ativan and getting neat and tidy

I will be adding some more funny ones soon.  Promise. This one is but frustrating.

 

Gary’s 43 yo heart doesn’t know to stop.  It just doesn’t.  Also, Louk.  For the last few days he has been agitated.  His tailbone is taking a lot of pressure but he is just confused enough to not stay on a side to help relieve the pressure.  No skin is broken…yet.

 

G was started on Ativan a couple of days ago.  For all my nursing friends, we all know what it looks like when Ativan is NOT your drug.  Instead of being calmer and relaxed, he has been awake for about 12-14 hours a day.  Agitated, pleasantly, but agitated.  It’s like he has been catholic for a couple of days….stand up, sit down, kneel, stand up, sit down, kneel, …..  Yesterday while I was here (SIL and Kristy and I are alternating) and he was wiggly.  We were able to get the nurse in to see his tail feathers during one of his standing acrobatics episodes.  He either leans on me and puts his head on my shoulder or we stand forehead to forehead.  This time he was looking at me, while standing.  He’s been confused and wiggly with busy hands.  He puts his hands up to my shoulders and starts to straighten my shirt.  You know, how the shoulders get off balance and they need to be fixed before you can pull the shirt straight.  He smiled and continued to straighten.  By pleasantly confused you can see that was a pleasant moment between us.

 

A couple of hours later he wanted to stand again. This time we pivoted to the chair so we could straighten out the bed before putting him back in it.  He is sitting in front of me, I’m rubbing his back.  Well, his spine, you can’t go back and forth across his back because his scapulars stick out so far it is impossible to do so.  SO, if you are a pudgy girl, like me, when you sit down in a chair for a long time and you have shorts on, the shorts tend to bunch up.  Then you get up and straighten them up.  Sit down, rinse, repeat.  OK…back to the story.  He’s sitting in front of me.  I feel something on my leg and look down. He is straightening my shorts!  He looks up and says, silently, *wrinkled*.  So he got me all straightened around and back to bed he went.

 

This kid…..

So when you have family who stays with the patient who takes care of all the issues with the patient in the catholic exercise agitation, the staff don't have to deal with it.  The doc and staff here have been great.  They have been trying to get to the sweet spot, truly.  The Ativan was a wild card.  Anyway, I talked to the doc this morning and said we are leaving around 1p because we are all exhausted.  Just letting him know.  My SIL, Meg had been up with him allllll night.  Leaving him altogether wasn't really the plan BUT as Gary said, only lessons that cause a little bit of pain sink in.  The staff needs to feel the pain of the agitation going on in here.

As I said, the doc has been great and he decided to double up on medication to keep him calm.  Was it my convo or Meg's convo that did that?  I feel it was Meg's.  He had the orders and he was putting in while I was talking to him.  Looking across Gary at Meg's face and exhaustion made an impact.  Very articulate, is she and her face backed her up.  Gary told me once that Meg is way smarter than he is and he is a smart motherfucker.  Just like that.  No embellishment.

Hopefully the efforts made by staff and doc today will be effective. He needs the rest as much as we do.

Gary & Dad Chronicles - Kristy - Event 11

 "Kristy!" "Kristy!" "Kristy!"..... these men.

You should know that if there is a heaven anywhere at all, Kristy is going.  No question and no having to account for any transgressions.  Nope.

Dad got sick about 13 years ago.  He had an abscess on his spine that was operated on and cleaned out, twice.  The first one was 17 days from pain starting and after the man went to 5 different ERs.  Finally a doc admitted him to see what was what.  After that he went to a nursing home for some rehab.  He went home with Kristy after that.  Blah Blah Blah, second surgery (they told us it would likely be back for another wash out) to the nursing home on killer antibiotics.  Again, he went to live with Kristy.  Fast forward 12 years.  She had taken care of everything she possibly could.  Series of out-patient surgeries, stents in various arteries, neurology, VA doctors, kidneys, eyes, teeth....  I won't be able to name all of them.  Just know that it was the longest 12 years of her life, in my opinion.  The last few years he was alive were particular challenging with conspiracy theories and forgetting things and forgetting that he even was told something he shouldn't forget.  

The refrain above is the sound track of her life.  The voice of Dad, and now Gary, saying her name is laced with the same inflection, the barrage of orders, the impossibility of finishing one order before moving to the next.

As most of you know, Dad died on February 1.  Gary is slated to go pretty soon.  We have been in AL for about 6 weeks going into the 7th.

So these 2. Phew. Which way was better:

Dad.  He couldn't hear.  One ear in particular was troublesome. He was forever leaning in with...beg your pardon?....I'm sorry I didn't hear you?....come again?....  Consequently, everything he did was loud.  He would call for her and she would be on her way and he is calling for her again.  He woke our mother up at 0430 every damned day and said...Brenda, have you seen my keys?  I don't know why SHE didn't' kill him! I don't know how Kristy did it all those years, but for anyone who loved Wes Louk, you have her to thank for keeping him alive for another 12 years.  You're Welcome.

Kristy and I knew that Dad was not doing well on a couple of fronts, medically.  Of course, Gary was about 1.5 years in to a 2 year diagnosis with Colon Cancer.  We discussed the shittier situation that was facing us.

1.  Dad dies first - Shitty for Gary to lose Dad. BUT we would be able to concentrate on nothing but Gary and managing one Louk man would be quite enough for all of us. If they were both alive when Gary needed help, well I can't imagine how many people she or I would have killed by now.

2.  Gary dies first - Shitty because Dad would lose a child.  I can't possibly think of anyone to wish that on.  Dad wasn't super good with emotions.  He was good with a "love you". "you alright, baby". "it'll be fine, baby".  Losing someone in this way and having to deal with those deep emotions for himself would have been impossible.

So when you are trying to think about how every event should go, the option #1 was the better option. Selfishly, it made things easier to handle without Dad here.  I've already been short with Kristy and with Gary at one point, if Dad had been in the mix AND Kristy or Gary wanted to murder him,  I can't.

It is still shitty that Gary had to lose Dad in addition to all he is going through.  He is about as good as Dad handling hard stuff.  Gave us the opportunity to just be with Gary.

The beginning phrase of "Kristy!" "Kristy!" "Kristy!" started again when we got to AL.  Same inflection.  Same need for full throttle answers and actions.  Not sustainable.  She was here the last time we came down and I stayed for about a week.  Kristy stayed for a couple of weeks after I left.  She was wrung the fuck out.  I think she would have walked home rather than stay longer.

This phrase from Gary was her spine flashbacks of Dad.  Gary and Dad were alike in every way.  I'm not cutting this one thing out that was better in either of them.  Full tilt.  Her exhaustion was 12 years old already.  This time when we came back, I'm not leaving with out her and it will only be hours to days for Gary now.  This is shitty to everyone in every way.