Adventure 432: The Story of George, 9

January 27, 2018

In real time today, George was dressed in his Sunday best waiting for Vina to come down for breakfast when we arrived around 7:30 A.M. He looked good, and though he forgot to take his morning pills, his energy, color, and awareness were good. He even talked about quitting using the walker he's been using lately and going back to the cane. He said he doesn't like to wait for the walker when he goes places. With the cane he can just get up and go. On our walk today, Judy and I were agreeing that compared to last week at this time, he's made significant gains. We've got him on two days per week of physical therapy and two days a week of home health nurse. We're getting him in the urology pipeline, and I'm still trying to get the documents together for his VA application. We're also beginning to talk with skilled nursing programs around town for when that time comes. Fortunately for us, the weather has been mild since we returned. February can roar in around here, but just as often lately, things stay mild until spring, which always brings its bone chilling wind and wet. I've always tried to convince Judy that there's no reason to be in Spokane in winter. That's not quite true this year, so hear, hear for a mild year!

George has a small tattoo on each arm. On one side are his own initials. G.E.W. On the other, the initials are B.M.K. The B stands for Bonnie, the M for Marie, and the K for Knopp. Apparently, she and George had enough of a relationship that he had her initials burned into his body for a lifetime. Anyway, she didn't wait for him while he was at sea. She took up with another guy. George was so broke up, he found another cutie by the name of Christine Ruden. I'm part of the rest of the history after that. I've been asking George questions about his youth in order to mine some stories, but my story of George is really the story of me. Once, I remember George and Chris arguing. Judy, my youngest sister, was a baby of that age between crawling and just learning to walk. Mostly, she crawled and then rocked back into a sitting position. The scene I witnessed was George came in the house. There was a short hallway that led into the kitchen. Judy was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. Chris was standing at the sink when George walked in. I followed George, but kept a little back. Arguing ensued. Suddenly, Chris took a step forward, picked up a salt shaker off the table, and flung it hard in George's direction. It was a poor throw. Really, it bounced once and skittered to a rest. Judy screamed, George ducked. I stood dumbfounded, but obviously marked for life. It was another blow my parents gave me without ever touching me.