I've mentioned my friends, Eddi and Larry, before. They're my football buddies. They're an important part of my family of the heart. They're my dear friends.
You can't help loving them. Big ol' Larry has a perpetual buzz cut and a big beard -- not to mention a big belly he's right proud of. At one time, one of my grandsons thought he was Santa. He is a constant fund of jokes and light-hearted humor. Little ol' Eddi (nobody ever calls her Edna) is, as an old fellow I used to know would say, "No biggern' a bar of soap after a hard day's warsh." She has mother-henned more grateful people in this area for more years than you could believe. Both of them were previously married to others but they've been hitched to each other for 34 years, as of today. It's been one of those rare and wonderful True Love matches that renews your faith in romance and love and the incredible depths of the human heart.
As will happen, the years have gradually worn down their bodies and both have assorted physical problems that must be dealt with and endured. Eddi, especially, has been in fragile health for some years now and is on oxygen all the time. All of us who know her are especially careful never to go around if we're packing the slightest hint of the sniffles.
In spite of everyone's care and all the precautions they, themselves, take, Larry had to zip Eddi into the hospital at 3:00 this morning. She has pneumonia. Right now, she's so doped up, she's sleeping. That's because she has to have an oxygen mask on -- and she has claustrophobia so bad, she absolutely can't bear to wear that mask when she's conscious of it. Ain't that a stone bitch?
All of which means I'll be pouring on a flood of mucho major mojo for her. Let me define that. You can call it prayer or white light or whatever you want. In my mind, it's all the same-same -- an intense, focused, passionate flow of energy for healing, strength, whatever is needed. The labels vary. The process and intent are the same.
So Larry will be checking in with the hospital later this evening and, shortly thereafter, I'll be checking in with him to see how she's doing. And to see how he's doing because, don't you know, this is cruelly hard on him, too. And we'll tell each other funny stories about her and we'll talk football because we always do and we'll help each other through this for a little while. And tomorrow we'll do it again. Whatever it takes, for however long it takes.
Should any of you feel the inclination, please know your version of mojo for Eddi would be greatly appreciated. She's pretty special. Thank you, from my heart.
You can't help loving them. Big ol' Larry has a perpetual buzz cut and a big beard -- not to mention a big belly he's right proud of. At one time, one of my grandsons thought he was Santa. He is a constant fund of jokes and light-hearted humor. Little ol' Eddi (nobody ever calls her Edna) is, as an old fellow I used to know would say, "No biggern' a bar of soap after a hard day's warsh." She has mother-henned more grateful people in this area for more years than you could believe. Both of them were previously married to others but they've been hitched to each other for 34 years, as of today. It's been one of those rare and wonderful True Love matches that renews your faith in romance and love and the incredible depths of the human heart.
As will happen, the years have gradually worn down their bodies and both have assorted physical problems that must be dealt with and endured. Eddi, especially, has been in fragile health for some years now and is on oxygen all the time. All of us who know her are especially careful never to go around if we're packing the slightest hint of the sniffles.
In spite of everyone's care and all the precautions they, themselves, take, Larry had to zip Eddi into the hospital at 3:00 this morning. She has pneumonia. Right now, she's so doped up, she's sleeping. That's because she has to have an oxygen mask on -- and she has claustrophobia so bad, she absolutely can't bear to wear that mask when she's conscious of it. Ain't that a stone bitch?
All of which means I'll be pouring on a flood of mucho major mojo for her. Let me define that. You can call it prayer or white light or whatever you want. In my mind, it's all the same-same -- an intense, focused, passionate flow of energy for healing, strength, whatever is needed. The labels vary. The process and intent are the same.
So Larry will be checking in with the hospital later this evening and, shortly thereafter, I'll be checking in with him to see how she's doing. And to see how he's doing because, don't you know, this is cruelly hard on him, too. And we'll tell each other funny stories about her and we'll talk football because we always do and we'll help each other through this for a little while. And tomorrow we'll do it again. Whatever it takes, for however long it takes.
Should any of you feel the inclination, please know your version of mojo for Eddi would be greatly appreciated. She's pretty special. Thank you, from my heart.
7 comments:
You've got it, Mizz Dee. Mojo and prayers.
and hugs too...
...Sachet
Thank you, luv. 'Tis much appreciated. Huggles back atcha.
A) major mojo on its way.
B) Nice spot you got here! When did THIS happen - and where the heck was I?? Maybe it's in the 1600 odd message I had to 'set aside' this month? Anyway, you are now on blogspot! Same as my bemazing nephew! So I'll sign this the way I do his.
XOXO
As much mojo as I can muster is winging its way to you and your friends of the heart, Dee.
John
I'm beginning to think mojo rides the breaking wave of quantum entanglement. No dish to buy, but it helps if you have a lightning rod like the CBG...
Waimea-sized waves of mojo rolling towards Eddi and Larry.
God and Goddess willing and the creeks don't rise, I'll see you in a hundred days or so, Dee!
Surfin' Monkey
You bet. I can do this. Hugs to you too.
Have I mentioned that I love you people? I do, you know.
Mountains and lakes of gratitude upon you all, for your generosity of spirit.
I'll provide an update in tonight's entry, of course. Thank you for caring.
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