John Dies Leaving Secrets

I get a call from a social worker from the hospital. Through the open door of John's trailer a neighbor saw John lying on the floor. They were having trouble keeping John in the hospital, he had tried to crawl out and had been restrained. He had given them my name and they had tracked me down. He trusted me to bring him his wallet and his money and check his trailer. Could I meet the social worker at his trailer? I agreed to meet her and we set up a time. But it was snowing that morning so I walked over and the social worker didn't come. I left a note on the door with my phone number on it for her to call in case she came later.

The next day Meals on Wheels called, would John be needing meals? They'd read the note on my door. The snow kept me home so I didn't visit John. Then it was Thanksgiving Weekend and we took the train to Portland to visit my mother. By the time I was able to visit John in the hospital, he could no longer speak. But the social worker hoped that I could get him to give permission for hospice care.  He was agitated when he saw me and wouldn't focus on the social worker so she left. Then he tried to get out of bed. He probably thought I could take him home. There was only an aide by his bed to help calm him down, so I left feeling unqualified to help him.


A couple of days later a social worker called me from the nursing home where the hospital placed John, and asked if I could sign John up for hospice. I was the only contact listed for him. I'd never been able to get any personal information from him so I didn't know anyone in his family who was still alive. The social worker told me she didn't think John would make it through the night and they wanted to offer him comfort. I finally told her, if I were the only one that could sign, I would. I couldn't let John die without comfort, but it would put me in an awkward position at work. She called back and told me I wouldn't have to sign. She talked it over with the supervisor and they would accept a not from John's doctor saying he would agree to hospice care.

The next afternoon a case manager from the nursing home John had been placed in called, John had died that morning, could I come and pick up John's keys and possessions? He said he could just turn them over the trailer park manager, I told him to call the case manager and give him the name and number. I also tell him John did have money and there is a file cabinet and probably the information he needs is in it. A nice young woman from the funeral home calls next, do I know how John wants to be buried? By now I'm wishing I could go over and take a few bills from John's hidden cache. No, but I know there is file cabinet in his home, if they could go there, they could look it up.

I went to Interfaith Clinic to leave a message for Chris, case manager who was kind and concerned about him. I forgot to bring in the last of the lancets so I go back out to my car. Chris comes running toward me and thanks me for letting him know. He also says, "don't feel bad, John lived the way he wanted to."

I wonder when I'm going to start living the way I want to?

One last note:  When I was in California on my way to my son's house over Christmas vacation I got a call from my supervisor who told me a cousin of John's had called the office and asked to speak to me.  When I called her back she wanted to know how John had spent his last few years. Who were his friends? I didn't have much to offer, I'd never met any. I asked her who had finally gotten a hold of her. She told me the man who owned the land that John's trailer sat on had finally gone to John's trailer to look at the files.  He also told her he was to meet a brother of the funeral home director and a friend there. When he got there the other two men had entered the trailer and the contents of his safe on the floor ! She told me she would fly over the Christmas break and see what John had. She would call me and let me know. She never called me back.

A final note: A couple of weeks later I was in the elevator visiting another client and the woman from Meals on Wheels who had delivered John his meals got in next to me carrying a bag of dog food. She recognized me and told me she had also visited John. When she was there the man in the bed next to his overheard them talking about John's dog, Jake, an old scruffy mutt, and offered to take the dog. For me that was the ending I needed to close John's chapter, someone caring about the old and scruffy.

Was Prom Like this for You?

Too complicated?

The boys in my daughter’s group find out if a girl will go with them before they are asked. So word was out that my daughter did not want to go to prom with Tyler. I don’t know how Tyler was told, but  he knew he wasn’t supposed to ask her. However, she did tuck him in to the back of her head as a last resort so she could go to prom. She was hoping Brian or Zach would ask her. No one goes Dutch, which I think would be a good solution rather than expect one friend to pay for both dinner and tickets. Although the boys all decided to go to Bob's Burger and Brew, which sounds inexpensive enough.  We don’t have enough money for my daughter to ask her desired date to her school's prom. An additional complication is that her desired date doesn’t go to her high school. So she really did have to wait for him to ask her to his prom.

Brian tells her he would ask her, but he’s going to a relative’s wedding in Alaska. And while he’s there he’s going heli-snowboarding, which as an option to prom, is a no-brainer.  So that leaves Zach. Her friend, Nick who is also Zach's friend, tells her Zach is going to ask her. But by now it's the weekend before prom,  Zach still hasn’t asked her and Tyler asks someone else so she tells Nick that she’s given up on going and not buying a dress. She tells me she is okay not going; after all it’s her junior prom. But she's going to start saving up now for her senior prom because she's going to go to it. But Nick keeps telling her Zach will invite her.

On Tuesday afternoon I get a call from my daughter, Nick has assured her Zach is going to ask her and she needs to buy the dress and we have to drive 20 miles to the next town because all her friends have been scouring our community (and Bellevue) for dresses and they haven’t seen any they like for her. Now I wish I’d put some time in looking with her. So I get home on this rainy afternoon, we eat leftovers to fortify us and head prom dress shopping. Emily has looked up a couple of places online that she wants to check out. In looking for one place, we find another, Davis Bridal Shop. We look through the clearance rack and find a lovely green dress. We also see the dress we’ve seen advertised that looks so cute in bright rosy pink with roses surrounding the skirt. She is a knockout in the moss green dress with her long dark hair and pale complexion, the color is just right for her. As she stands there, with the low cut of the dress and the way it drapes around her body and her flushed cheeks and red lips, I imagine her as Rose Red in fairy tales and the young woman she is turning out to be.  Later when she tells me all the girls are getting spray tans, I have no sympathy that I can’t afford it for her, her complexion is flawless and her coloring lovely. But the dress is a little snug under the arms, also it is too much to wear to a prom with a boy that she barely knows who waits so late to ask her. She doesn’t need to be a princess just yet; after all it’s her junior prom.

We find the other shop; it’s run by a Latina woman and the dress are fun, but a little too much for prom. So we head to the mall. We try Penney’s first because the prices are reasonable, but their slim selection doesn’t offer anything appropriate. We walk along the quiet mall peering into different stores that offer causal clothing. We end up in Macy’s and there we find a dress we both like. I’m surprised I like it on my almost seventeen-year old daughter; it’s black, and rather sophisticated with one strap. Straps are important. Once she went off to one dance in a strapless dress and she was uncomfortable all evening tugging up the front.  The dress is snug, but stretchy and she’s comfortable in it. It looks like a dress she can wear again, maybe out for a nice dinner. I open a Macy’s charge account to get 15% off.  It’s more than I want to spend, but reasonable for a nice dress she can wear again. So she' got the dress, but no date !

Do I Mean What I Say?

As the mom of a teenager I get confused about what I'm saying and doing as a parent. How do I know how to handle some of the situations my daughter brings to me?

Yesterday when she got home from tennis practice, she was all excited, Brian came to her school at lunchtime and left three cheery daffodils with a note asking her to his school's Tolo dance, which was my Sadie Hawkins dance; Tolo is also a resort town in Greece. The secretary commented that she thought girls were to ask the boys, Emily replied that since it was at his school, he could ask her. But one of her well-meaning friends had told Brian that Emily didn’t have any money to ask him. She disappears into room to start cleaning it. I’m looking forward to spending the evening together. We can talk over what she needs to do about college. Although as I look at the bathroom that she was supposed to keep clean after our last conversation, I wonder if conversation is enough.

 She told me that she doesn’t want to drive down to Seattle to the College Fair with an adult, by herself, because it will be awkward. The conversation about her going to the College Fair isn’t over as far as I’m concerned, but the sun in my garden is too captivating to discuss anything with her right now. Then she comes to the door and tells me there is room in the van for her to go to Seattle tonight. Knowing I shouldn’t really spend the money on a bus, I let her go, but ask her to make dinner so we can eat together. As I trim my roses and clean up my garden I start to feel better. Then she calls me to come in and have dinner, when I get inside she’s back in her room packing and no dinner in sight. So I start pulling food ideas out of the refrigerator and call her to the kitchen. Ten minutes later her friend bounces in. I go out to the van to find out how they have made room for her, the mom tells me their daughter is going to sit on the floor. My heart sinks, I wouldn’t let my daughter travel without a seat belt. But the mom reassures me that they do it all the time when they travel. Emily is smiling and chatting with the friend sitting next to her on the seat with her seatbelt strapped on. Zooey reassures me too. I don’t express my concern at their choice and wave cheerfully like I mean it as they drive off.