Sunday, February 24, 2008

This Band of Gold


My Dearest Love,

Do you remember that song, the one by Greg Brown where he sings of "This Band of Gold?" I have thought about it a lot recently. Today especially.

When I was down at the Mayo earlier in the week for my biopsies, they were very concerned about the wedding rings. They make everyone who goes into surgery take them off. I explained that I had not been able to get mine off in over fifteen years because my fingers had grown fat ans sassy. We tried. Their secret ingredient was Windex as a lubricant. Try as I might though, I couldn't get mine to go. They said that I would have to go down "as is" and that the surgical team would decide whether to cut if off or not.

That was a sobering thought. So, since I have been home, I have decided to make another assault on the "everest" of rings. So this morning, I got out the Windex and started squirting and twisting. It took me several minutes and some not so polite words, but I finally forced the ring over a very complaining knuckle. It will not go back on that finger again.

I have placed it with your two rings in the secret puzzle box I brought home for you from one of my business trips. There they will remain, together until someone sets them free. That will be after I am gone.

With all my love,

D.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Mayogram

My Dearest Love,

It has been a while since I last sent you one of these. You will be happy to know your children continue to grow and amaze all around them. Your son turned 15 last month and has grown several inches over the past nine moons. He has his learner's permit for driving, but I won't let him get behind the wheel until he gets his grades up. He is tall and lanky. All arms, legs, and hair that hangs down in his eyes and which he uses to great effectiveness when he wants to irritate me. He has the shadow of a mustache on his upper lip and a few scattered dark hairs growing out of his chin. I hardly know what to make of him these days.

Your daughter turns 18 this Saturday and has become quite the young woman. She is full of imponderable thoughts and worries about the future. She is looking forward to her last season of track which will be starting up soon. College looms out in the foggy future beyond that. She stands on the verge of adulthood and I can hardly stand it. Our relationship has grown closer over the past year or so and I will miss her terribly when she goes off on her own.

As for me, I am embarking on a number of ventures with unknown outcomes. As I write this, I am at the Mayo Clinic - a place that I am sure you would loath to visit again. I am looking at participating in some Phase II trials that are going on down here and need to get some baseline testing done to see which trial might be best for me. Today I got poked and bled, scanned and visualized. Later this afternoon I will meet with the oncologist associated with the studies and a surgeon who will extract some needed flesh for the pathology lab to drool over. My only concern is the drive home tomorrow. I am on my own this trip and may need an angel to watch over me. Just thought I would mention it in case you were free and looking for something to do.

I went off in search of food after clearing the CT-scan process and checking into my hotel room. Do you remember the warren of tunnels that criss-cross under the Mayo? Well, I walked and walked, and zigged and zagged, trying to keep my sense of direction true. Then, like a prairie dog, I popped my head out and found myself right where I wanted to be. I was patting myself on the back so enthusiastically that I nearly dislocated a shoulder.

After lunch, I decided to try to find a bookstore, but to travel above ground this time. After meandering hither and yon for a good fifteen minutes, watching the lemming-like behavior of the skyway lunch crowd, I stumbled upon a Barnes and Nobels store and spend a happy half hour looking for something to entertain myself with later tonight. As I checked out and was paying for the book, the clerk asked for my telephone number to look up our membership. I gave it to her and as she punched it in, she got a strange and far away look in her eyes. She said your last name and as I was about to respond that I had tried to get that changed on the B&N account before, she turned and looked at me saying, "I used to work with your wife at the L____, S_____, & D______ firm." Small world we live in.

Now I am passing the time waiting for my afternoon appointment and writing to you. It's a clear, sunny, bitterly cold day outside the window - the last blast for the winter they are saying. I don't know if that is true, but I am ready for some warmer weather. Our septic system froze you know. Yep, the pipe from the tank to the drain field. I had to have the tanks pumped out last week to get the alarm to shut off. I am hoping that we can make it to spring thaw before we need to pump again. Even so, it was cheaper to pump a couple or three times than to get a crew in, thaw the ground, dig down to the pipe, cut it and try to thaw it from there with steam. Anyway, I am looking for warmer weather.

Well, I had better quit jamming up the ether with this chatter. I hope this finds you wherever you are. If you see my father floating around up there, say hi to him for me and tell him that the church was full to overflowing at his memorial service. A lot of old friends came to see him off and wish him the best.

As always, I send my love and that of our children. We all miss you (Sophie too).

Yours,

Me