The Caregiver’s Tales
Tiny essays on life, nature, grief and other things that catch my fancy in the Texas Hill Country. Here’s how it all got started.
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A Knock on the Window
A bird hit my window yesterday, it appears to be a juvenile goldfinch. It was fatal. It makes me sad when the birds die at my window while flying toward what they believe to be blue skies and trees.
Grief Again
A final bit on my grief story. My three children. They’ve all been supportive. They backed me on my decision to move their mother to memory care, and they’ve been there for me since she passed.
Passing On
Sunday. Yesterday. August 4 was the fourth anniversary of my wife’s death. It passed without much notice. Only a close friend and a cousin offered condolences. And I think that’s as it should be.
When Buzzards Come
Death came knocking beneath the trees. I was on my way to the workroom yesterday when I interrupted a gathering of buzzards at their meal between the north fence and the big oaks and the sage.
In the Beginning
I was born in July 1946 in New Orleans, Louisiana to a mother from Ohio and a father from Texas. I tell you this because we all start somewhere, and those initial conditions are important.
Dear Reader
I’ve been doing this for ten years, starting in 2014. Getting up. Almost every morning. Writing a few words. Posting them. First on Facebook. Then, in 2020, on my blog
More Post Op
There were days before my surgery when I was ready to run. To get away. To ignore it. Even when the surgeon came to visit me as I lay on the gurney waiting to go to pre-op, I was still thinking, no, I should wait.
Loss and Recovery
The death of my friend this week got me thinking about the death of my wife. A natural progression. It’s been three and a half years since she died.
If Memory Serves
If you’d like a good example of how faulty memory can be. I have an example for you.
Ordinary Days
There’s a nip in the air and frost on the ground. It’s early but the day has fairly started. The trash can is out, the cats are fed, and there’s a load of wash going.
Little Things
In the beginning, I wrote about the little things. The feel of a breeze. A trail in the grass. A star in the sky. Then one day. I wrote about the big thing.
The Funeral
We buried a mother, a daughter, a friend yesterday, Sky Jones Lewey. Figuratively and literally.
My Fractal Life 2
I’m going to talk about the pattern I’ve seen as I dealt with my wife’s death in August 2020 and how it came about. This isn’t a road map. This is my journey.
Easter
Easter. We tend to think of it as a single day, Sunday, but it’s actually a multi-day, multi-week contemplation of death and resurrection.
Yard Therapy
There is something be said for hauling around bags of mulch and spreading the contents about the garden. It’s this. They’re heavy and they’ll make you sore.
Farm Report
An unusually wet July and August have done wonders for the khaki weed harvest. Crop yields are way up.
The Anniversary
I thought I’d have something to say on the first anniversary of my wife’s death. Turns out I’m struggling for words.
A Gathering
Wow. Went to hear music and sit with friends yesterday. To celebrate we got pelted with rain. And then it rained again last night. Is this still Texas?
The Burden
Went with friends to visit my wife’s grave yesterday. We hung a little decorative pendant by the headstone. It was made by her Ya-Ya’s at their last gathering.
Oops!
I like these cool mornings and warm afternoons. The former is dedicated to casual yard work, while the latter is dedicated to riding activities, like mowing on the zero turn.