Friday, August 10, 2012


It's becoming increasingly hard to go visit with friends. It's just easier to stay home.

I went to visit my best friend. He lives only three miles from me. His wife died a year ago. He and I have one of those "once in a lifetime" friendships that has lasted years. He was my Sergeant at one time, when we were both in law enforcement. Then he and his wife became my pastors. I dare say this man knows me better than anyone in the world and vice versa. His lovely wife died a year ago and I try to get over there several times a week. We discuss and argue the Bible. We tell law enforcement "war stories". We laugh. We plot. I've always been a person who NEVER let anyone see the REAL me. Except this pastor. He's the only person who has ever known the real me, flaws, faults and all. So I value this friendship more than I can tell you. But I hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks. Yesterday's visit was a good example of why it's easier to stay home.

As usual, we sat in the living room and started talking. Alan stayed in a chair for about 15 minutes because George had given his a coke and a couple of cookies. As soon as he finished those, he began to wander, searching for candy to get into. First into the kitchen. I could tell where he spied something.

"Alan stay out of things." He jumped and came back out. Wandering then into another area. "Alan stay out of things." Jump. Came back out. George and I continued visiting. Alan goes back to kitchen. "Alan stay of things." Jump. Wandered back to other area. "Alan leave things alone." While George and I visited, Alan never sat back down but continued wandering between the two rooms. I finally decided it was time to take him home.

Alan is fixated on candy. If he spies any in someone's home, he'll keep on until he gets it. It's worse than a kid. For someone who forgets everything else, he NEVER forgets where he sees candy.

If he can't find candy, he'll wander and get into other things. He has to be watched constantly when we're out. So it's easier to keep him at home where I have things locked up.

It's August and Alan caught me on the computer so he decorated for Christmas again. I went into the living room and my whole fireplace mantle was crammed full of my angel collection, looking like it was a flea market. "Alan get those off of there and put them back on the shelves." At least this time he didn't get the tree up before I caught him.

Obama has failed me. When Alan got on disability, the government removed his medicaid. Now I can't afford to get any respite care. So Alan goes with me. We're divorced and still joined at the hip. He goes to work with me, he visits friends with me and it's now impossible to attend my favorite 12-step meetings, because they keep candy on the tables and there's flaws in the table he can pick at until he digs holes in the table.

It says something for MY character that he doesn't have lumps on his head.

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