I guess history and the recollection of it begins on day two... I think I can remember back the late 40's when our family lived on Lexington Street in Grand Rapids. I have driven there since; about 7 or 8 years ago, to see if standing in front of the house; just down the block from the fire station, would jar or enlighten my fading memory of life there.. I wandered with the woman who lived around the corner as a child and we explored the back alley and her old front porch.. She and her twin brothers lived there with their parents... I lived with my older sisters Jane and Rebecca, and our parents.. At this moment I don't remember the girl/ woman's name, but know she goes by what sounds like a child's name to me now.. She is nearly 78 as I write this. I may later change her name as I recall it. There are times that a name; especially one from 73 years ago, is hard to dredge up..( I have it now; Lorraine Hoffman. She goes by Lorrie now).
I do rememember that even as a 2-year-old, I was a charmer of sorts. And children; at least this child, were allowed to wander around the neighborhood unbridled. And by neighborhood, I mean a block each way from house. On those treks I often turned the corner of Lexington and onto Fulton, a busy street with cross town traffic. I walked several doors past the Nelson's restaurant to Adams' Junk store (perhaps antique store without any pretenses).. I would look through the stuff he'd collected, but don't remember what they were or whether I ever took any of them home.
I do remember stopping at the restaurant and stretching up to meet the lips of the waitress who then rewarded me with a piece of candy,, I can't tell you if that cemented my attraction to kisses or to candy..

Jane, "Bec" and I shared an upstairs single room.. I don't remember the arrangement or division of space in that dark room. But, I remember one night we were talking and playing way past our bedtimes.. I was 2. Bec was 4, and Jane was 6.. Up the stairs came Dad who was intent on quieting us and punishing us for breaking the rules, I think.. In any case, I was clever enough to pretend I was sound asleep. The pure picture of innocense. And my sister's both got spanked.. As I remember it, this was one of the few times that age or perhaps gender played in my favor... 4 years later our younger brother Tom came along and all bets were off.

Is this the way it is?

Is this the way it happens? We grow older and the memories and skills that propelled us into new adventures and love; fade, turn gray and just blow away in the dust of time.  I see actors;characters kissing and holding hands on TV or in movies and I can't remember how that feels. Or smells. Or tastes.

I think I still have those senses. The ability to have feelings of love and affection... And to express that to others. 

Then why are they fading like so many first names that I can't put a face to or faces I can't greet by name? 

And why the Hell doesn't it just rain already....?

It happens to each of us. Alone or with our "loving family" surrounding us. We die.. And this reality hit home as I learned of two classmates landing on either side of the line that separates us from life and death. One was a sparkly, beautiful classmate who I have not seen in over 25 years.. She died last month in a town not far from home.. The other is a walking friend who I haven't seen in about the same number of years; maybe less. She is dying and wanted more than ever to just be left alone...
I visited a cousin, my age who is in the grips of the slow death we call Alzheimer's.. I doubt he knew who I was, but I saw a familiar sparkle in his still bright blue eyes; surrounded by his curly white air and cascading beard.. His wife loves him and is with him each day to comfort and converse...

I spent time last week also visiting the cemetary north of Lowell. That's the small midwestern town I grew up in.. My friend Sue and I spennt nearly two hours walking. Recognizing names, dates, and even a few faces on the stones.. Each time we saw someone we remembered from our lives, we lifted our gaze further to another name from the past; and walked ahead further.. I saw classmates, and paper route customers. We saw town founders and stalwart citizens who gave their all for the little town and its people. There were teachers, coaches, antique store owners, and a bowler of some renown... There were many family names on stones that represented a core of families that everyone knew.. Cousins, parents, grandparents, and children all with the same last name; seperated by years and the cause of death.
I found comfort in the assembly of people I'd known as a boy. I felt a connection I'd been missing. And the visit seemed to be the "Goodbye Tour" I'd promised to make this summer. Not across the country from Michigan to the westcoast. But, a visit to my roots and the ground from which they sprang.


And today my dog Cody and I visited our friends who live at the Memory Care Unit at the veterans home near here.. I carry his name on a card so they have a clue who he is, but a few seem to remember his even as 2 weeks passes before we return.. Most of the who are awake and not dozing after lunch brighen when I lead him to their feet.. They stretch from their stupor to touch and pet him.. And they smile and talk to him.. There is nothing like the comfort of touching a big soft dog. They both seem to lean into the touch.

The storm has passed and the sun has dropped behind any clouds to the west.. My dog and I are heading to bed... One more night of pure joy, calm, and love.. Good Night to you all,