Where Art Thou, Romeo?

Yes, it's late. Or very early. Half empty, half full; you decide. Hubby's not home again and the grief tide is slowly but surely coming in.

We went to visit Neva yesterday. And Paul. Poor Neva, so lifeless on her death bed, just waiting to die. They said she wouldn't respond, couldn't respond, but I shall never forget how her eyes rolled 'round and she let out a tattered breath as I whispered in her ear, "Oh Neva, how lucky are you--you're going to see Jesus!" I fought back tears, thanked her for touching my life, stroked her thin, gray hair, told her goodbye and kissed her wrinkled cheek. It won't be long until she's gone, or arrives, or both, I suppose.

Until this past year, I would not have known how to treat a grieving person like Paul; his wife of 50+ years fading fast before his cloudy blue eyes. I am thankful for that lesson, for learing the ache of a grieving heart, as it can only be learned from experience; it is a very valuable tool to have handy. When speaking with Paul, Hubby kept trying to fill the awkward silence--oh, how I wished I could have put a sock in his rambling mouth!! A grieving person needs an open ear, not an open mouth. A grieving person needs a hand to hold, to see eyes that shed the same tears as theirs...not winded stories of relatives who've died. Argh.

People say the dumbest things when they don't know what to say...yet, they just keep on talking, completely clueless to the fact that their words only add to your grief...and they walk away ignorantly thinking, "I'm glad I comforted so-and-so." Yes, I also know this from painful experience, and it pained me to watch my own husband to do a hurting man what well meaning people have done to me.

...Just watched a movie, my little Dell gasping for breath every now and again. In my older age I do enjoy slowing down here and there to watch a movie in the comfort of my Select Comfort bed. (I'm gone up from 15 to 35. Perhaps tonight, err, this morning I'll spice things up a bit and settle in at 30.)

I asked the local Jack Black at the movie store for a good "chick flick," and he gave me his recommendation for Catch and Release. Interesting in a way, slightly funny, but not worth the $3.49. Of course, I am rather picky when it comes to films and rarely watch anything without content...which is getting harder and harder to find now days.

Whatever happened to a good romantic comedy without all the sex, alcohol and curse words? What a conditioning it is to watch these modern day movies. Has anyone heard of a two little words: plot and substance? Our advancing technologies have robbed our brains of their active imaginations. We have traded in stimulation for numbness and true humor for canned laughter. Oh, how tragic it is that we have lost dear Romeo and Juliet. Where is the Shakespear of our current age?

I did rent a documentary from the library which I wanted to watch, but the kiddos are camped out in front of the fire in the living room, and my laptop doesn't play VHS, so I was stuck with this ill begot DVD.

I have thought a time or two of the Mr. Jack Black Movie Store Man. Young man, I might add. Very early twenties at the oldest. He looks very much like Jack Black, and has the same slightly odd sense of humor; even has that crooked little smile. I'm not sure what his real name is, perhaps I'll ask the next time I'm in. He's a kid with personality. I do so enjoy good personality. It's very refreshing, much like mountain air after the rain or the taste of an ocean breeze.

The last time I went to rent a movie (The Nativity Story--very disappointing and a very hit-and-miss version of the original text), Mr. Jack Black was wearing shorts, boot socks, and a pair of army-like boots; topped off with his messy Jack Black hair and sloppy t-shirt with his slightly protruding Jack Black tummy. He was very candidly telling a story of how the previous night, as he was closing the store, a cow was moseying right on down the street which runs in front of the store. His animation made me chuckle. His eyes lit up as he described the creature, his face imitating the look a cow might have if it were free from the barn and taking a stroll down Lincoln Street. What imagination!

Anyway, I'll have to tell him that his movie recommendation was good for numbing the brain and ask him if he's ever seen the original Pride and Prejudice. I do wonder if he'd be able to stay awake through it. a Mt. Dew might do the trick.

Okay. Eyes are starting to droop, fingers are getting a bit achy. What an odd little word, "achy." Surely, it looks as if it needs an "e," but indeed it does not. Time to stoke the fire, feed the cat and slip back into my ever-so-comfortable bed.

Maybe I'll go out on a limb and be number 25 tonight...or maybe I'll just pass out. It's a toss up.