Dear Beverly

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Good morning, just stopped by to say hello.

          You remembered me.

Always.

These last two days have been painful.

Sad days in knowing the truth.

I like to think about the good ones.

My life has been full of incredible things … this was one of those good days.

During the Thanksgiving weekend of 2008 my office phone rang.  It was Fran, she gave me the sad news that you had had a seizure at your friend Beverly’s home during Thanksgiving dinner.   You were rushed to the emergency room (Northridge Hospital) and would subsequently be transferred to Kaiser on Sunset Blvd, where you remained in a comatose state in their ICU.

Each morning Fran would call me before she left for the hospital and in the evening she’d call again with an update.   84 years old, but she would drive in from Newbury Park in the morning and try to get on the road home by four o’clock so that she wouldn’t have to drive home in the dark.   She loved you so much.

There was nothing new each day.  I told her that I would be in Los Angeles for an AIDS charity dinner on Monday, December 8th … we talked Sunday evening, Dec. 7th and made the arrangements for me to meet her in the hospital lobby the next morning.   She took me up to the ICU as “family.” 

Monday was the 11th day of your coma … you were in a small room on one side of the ICU, in a dressing gown with a feeding tube inserted in your mouth and oxygen tubes shoved up your nose.  You were pale; pasty.   Fran and I pulled “scrubs” on over our street clothes and went in to be with you.

I pulled up a chair on the right side of the bed, took your hand in mine and began to talk to you.  Fran pulled up a similar metal folding chair on the other side of the bed and we talked back and forth.  We would laugh and chat.  Periodically the nurses would shoe us out of the room to check on their patient.

I told you that you were loved and not alone.  I would stroke the side of your face and then from time to time I would lean over and whisper in your ear, “I love you.”   I would talk to you and then Fran and I would chat and sure enough we would be asked out of the room again for another visit from your caregivers. 

The process began shortly after ten in the morning and the two of us maintained our vigil until suddenly around one in the afternoon you opened your eyes, reached up with your hand and pulled the tubes out of your nose.

The two of us set there, first in stunned silence, then in frantic calls for the doctors.   “She’s awake!”  They came in, examined you, a new development — they chatted among themselves.  Fran and I hugged, there were tears in our eyes and smiles on our faces.

Over the next couple of hours we resumed our posts.  We continued to chat; continued to talk to talk to you.  You would open your eyes, they were glazed, and then fall back to sleep.  Awake and then asleep again.  Around three in the afternoon the doctors and nurses descend upon you and we were once again shoed out of the room.  They decided to remove the feeding tube that was down your throat to see if you could breathe better and perhaps take liquids on your own.

At four in the afternoon I kissed you on the cheek, said I was leaving with your mom and then squeezed your hand.  You SQUEEZED back!!!  

You were going to be OK.  The drive home that day for Fran was different than all of the others … the burden was lifted, it was a December day to celebrate. 

In the days that followed you made great progress.   You were transferred to a care facility in Orange, California to regain your strength.  I drove up to the CES in Las Vegas for the annual invitation-only DEG event on Monday January 5, 2009 and stopped by the facility on the way up.   I met Fran and we went down to your room.  You were awake, alert and the smile that came on your face was so beautiful. 

We kissed and hugged … you bitched and moaned about the food.   “I want to go for a walk.”  I helped you up, you were so incredibly weak, and we hobbled down the hall to the front of the facility and back.  We went outside and sat in the morning sun on the patio area just outside your room and talked.   Fran left to go across the street (supermarket, shops, etc.) and during her absence your daughter and her boyfriend showed up.   You introduced her to me.   Shortly Fran returned and for a brief moment there were the three of you — mother, daughter and granddaughter, together.

The next day I stopped backed by on my return trip from Las Vegas … I brought you two gifts to celebrate.  One was a stack of puzzle books (Sudoku, crossword puzzles, etc.) to exercise your mind.   The second was a Toby Keith jacket to keep you warm.  Funny, but I don’t think you gave the puzzle books a second thought.  This too was a good day.  It was also the day that they let you go home.   Home, to the safety of your mother’s home in Newbury Park.

I wonder whatever happened to that Toby Keith jacket?   In storage?   Goodwill?  

It is moments such as these that I will celebrate and remember.   Monday, December 8, 2008.   You squeezed my hand.

Got a tune for you today ... yup, your boy Toby.

           Smile.  Thanks Doll.

http://youtu.be/HxUuDPNbkJk 

We talk about your work how your boss is a jerk
We talk about your church and your head when it hurts
We talk about the troubles you've been having with your brother
About your daddy and your mother and your crazy ex-lover
We talk about your friends and the places that you've been
We talk about your skin and the dimples on your chin
The polish on your toes and the run in your hose
And God knows we're gonna talk about your clothes
You know talking about you makes me smile
But every once in awhile

I wanna talk about me
Wanna talk about I
Wanna talk about number one
Oh my me my
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see
I like talking about you, usually, but occassionally
I wanna talk about me
I wanna talk about me

We talk about your dreams and we talk about your schemes
your high school team and your moisturizer creme
We talk about your nanna up in Muncie, Indiana
We talk about your grandma down in Alabama
We talk about your guys of every shape and size
The ones that you despise and the ones you idolize
We talk about your heart, about your brains and your smarts
And your medical charts and where you start
You know talking about you makes me grin
But every now and then

I wanna talk about me
Wanna talk about I
Wanna talk about number one
Oh my me my
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see
I like talking about you, usually, but occassionally
I wanna talk about me
I wanna talk about me

You you you you you you you you youyouyouyouyou
I wanna talk about me

I wanna talk about me
Wanna talk about I
Wanna talk about number one
Oh my me my
What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see
I like talking about you, usually, but occassionally
I wanna talk about me
I wanna talk about me