Reset Your Password

Writers are a pretty weird bunch.

We all know that pulling words from your head doesn't come easily through the all the scrambled codes, but they are there, right where you never left them.

The following letter is or isn't an actual daily chat with one of our dearest friends, our ninety-one year old neighbor, Char.

Decide for yourself.

Good Morning, Char!

I sure do hope that you are doing well and having a better day than you did yesterday. After I helped Joe and Barb, Linda and I just went out for a burger because neither one of us really wanted to cook anything.

I am facing the daunting task (for yet another time) of putting together a slide show tribute as well as a speech for my old partner-in- crime, Duffy.

Seeing him last week in that hospital bed is an image that no one ever wants to see, but the inevitable truth of death is inhaled with our every breath.

Duff's wife messaged me this morning and advised that the hospice nurse said he may have weeks. To be honest, I was quite surprised. She also said that Duffy would like me to speak at his celebration of life.

I got the chills as I read it.

So now, it looks like I'm preparing to stare at a blank screen to compose not only a slideshow, but an outline for a speech, and I don't like doing either. I'm sure it will require a few breaks to stretch, smoke, doodle, and refill my coffee mug.

In the old days would have meant hours, even days, days of crumbling sheets full of the wrong words ripping them from my typewriter or spiral bound tablet. Today it's a whole different ballgame.

I hate this shit, I really do.

I'll start with the emotional process of pulling photos from an extensive collection on computer files, even though they only date back to 2007. Anything prior to that is upstairs.

So, I assume that later, I'll have to go into "the room," where there are forty-year-old photo albums in closet totes and with some still stacked from my last search to scan the pictures that I recently used for Sonny.

That room, as you know, is a jungle. Linda takes care of all the plants that include rubber trees, palms, orchids, and winter blooming cactus.

I usually only look at it through the french doors on a sunny day, which, of course, today isn't. I also think about putting some of the memories back in their hiding place and hanging the curtains that have been in there for over a year.

But I don't.

The sun ain't shining and it's the middle of January.

So much for what is stacked against me as I sit at the kitchen table with a sleeping dog below my feet. I watch the walkers and joggers go by with ear muffs, poop bags, and the kids bundled up waiting for the school bus to make way for the trash guys.

My speaker is blaring and John Prine's rocker, "We Are The Lonely" streams through. His reference to "single-mingle-happy-hour" reminds me all too much of my craziest years of being sick, sorry, drunk and repeated.

Duffy's "Meat Market Saloon," went on earn its well deserved secondary title "Cheers Gone Wrong."

There is also a writing challenge on "Vocal" which is a media outlet where I've shared some stories mainly for the peace of mind without much fanfare.

The challenge, "Reset Your Password," ends tonight at midnight. It looks like I'll use these words and take it.

Char, you have a really good feel for how much Linda and I cherish your friendship, and we are always here for you. I know that winters get rough, and some of us have a hard time with it.

As your clock ticks away and you settle for your nap in the chair, please remember that I'm always happy to drop what I'm doing and come to help or just visit.

Whatever you need, we're here.

I'll see you in a few hours, I know I'll need a shower. I have a shrimp, pasta, spinach and tomato dish from last night that I'm sure you'll enjoy.

Sometimes writing the necessary words and the act of just pulling them from my head is as laborious as cleaning up your flower beds and bushes.

Think Spring!

We're looking forward to helping you celebrate your 92nd birthday and getting that much needed dose of Vitamin D.

It's time to "reset my password" and open my eyes to the journey that lies ahead and learn to savor every breath.

Duffy is in good hands, Roseann makes sure of that.

I just can't help my brain from stopping with nearly every blink to glimpse at the memories of the past.

In the meantime, you got me, and this slumpy, grumpy, feeling will pass.

Your "Young" Friend,

johnlookin@seventydotbam!

Along with my missive, here's Char's response (fact or fiction) to the above correspondence. I can tell you one thing for sure, that friends are what makes the world go 'round.

"Dear John,

Sounds like a good password to me.

I'm sorry about your friend, Duffy. I'm sure you were a wonderful friend to him, as you and Linda are to me, too. Whatever you come up for for Duffy, I'm sure it will make him proud. I've really enjoyed your stories.

Charlene called me just after we talked to check in ad see how I'm doing. Eddie came in while we were on the phone and I got to talk to him, too.

Cheer up, my dear friend, and enjoy today because tomorrow doesn't very nice, and after yesterday's mid-January tornado warning, the coming snow at least seems tonormal.

I hope you realize that you and Linda are two very important people in my life and I thank you both for all that you do for me. I'm blessed to have you in my life.

Hugs,

Char"