April's Real Blog

Friday, September 29, 2006

Dispatch from Michael

In case U were wondering abt how-all Michael found out abt Gramps this past Monday nite, he d-cided 2 post a comment last nite:
April,

Little sis. I decided that I have gotten tired of listening to you complain about memory loss in your Blog entries. Therefore, I will recount to you the story of how I came to learn about Grandpa Jim’s stroke.

It was a dark and stormy night. Deanna was dealing with the children as she normally does. Then the night was made even darker and stormier by a phone call from Mr. Archie Andrews about the deadline for some freelance work I am doing. The disadvantage to working at home is that people think they can call you at all times of the night to ask about what you have been doing. Mr. Andrews is one of the worst. “Do you know when the project is due, Patterson? I have to have those love sonnets ready for my date with Veronica Lodge tomorrow. If I don’t have them, then Reggie Mantle wins the contest and he gets to go out with Veronica.” I am tempted to respond, “I could get this project done, if I wasn’t constantly on the phone with you answering your questions about when it is due.” Of course, a Patterson would never say anything that rude, so I just said, “Yes, I know this project is due tomorrow, Mr. Andrews” over and over again. Fortunately for me, mom called to tell me about Grandpa Jim’s stroke, so I was able to get Mr. Andrews off the phone, by telling him I had to take mom’s call. I was reaching for our black telephone, when mom’s voice piped into the cell phone I already had up to my ear. I don’t know how she did that.

Mom said, “Mike? It’s mom. I have some terrible news. A prime rib dinner went to waste tonight. And it was a good one from Anne Nichols at the Empire Hotel. You know how good those prime rib dinners are over there? It is a tragedy. A complete tragedy.”
I said, “What?”
Mom said, “Oh, and your grandpa Jim had a stroke. We’re here at hospital.”
I said, “Grandpa Jim has had a stroke?”
Mom said, “I just said that. Are you repeating what I say back to me?”
I said, “Yes.”
Mom said, “Well stop it.”
I said, “Uh huh…”
Mom said, “And stop using those ellipses too. You’re not special needs.”
I said, “Uh huh,”
Mom said, “We are waiting for the inflammation in your grandpa’s head to go down, so the doctors can tell us just how much damage has been done. As soon as we find out, we’ll let you know how he is…”
I said, “As soon as you know how he is…”
Mom said, “Stop repeating me and stop using those ellipses.”
I said, “Uh huh…We will.”
Mom said, “Ellipses! Michael. Ellipses! “
I said, “And mom?”
Mom said, “Yes, Michael.”
I said, “…I’m so sorry.”

Mom was furious with my last ellipse, even though I was apologizing. It was worth it to slide it in. Even as I rejoiced in getting that joke in, my problems suddenly seemed so unimportant. So, I said it to Deanna, only I realized afterwards, I forgot to phrase it as a question instead of a statement. I’ve noticed our family has a difficulty with posing questions anymore, even when the sentences really should be questions. My beloved Deana sympathized with me, by placing her hand on my back. I thought about our Grandpa, suffering from the effects of a stroke. No longer able to get around very well. No longer able to speak coherently. Really not that different, now that I think about it. But it’s too early to tell. Deanna and I hope that Grandpa Jim has a full and complete recovery, and he is just as coherent and mobile as before, except maybe more mobile and more coherent.

That’s how I found about Grandpa Jim’s stroke.

Love,
Michael Patterson
Yeah, Mom is weird abt those ellipses. She thinx only she shd B allowed 2 used them cuz she thinx every1 else abuses them. Ellipse abuse! Mom is weird, yo.

Sgt. Royalson, I M not even sure what 2 b-lieve rite now, but when U post, U can click "other" and write in yr name insteada using the "anonymous" option. U know, if U feel like it.

Apes

10 Comments:

  • At 9:47 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    What does this mean, “And stop using those ellipses too. You’re not special needs”? People who aren't special needs use ellipses too.

    Love,
    Shannon Lake

     
  • At 10:17 AM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    I got a lovely call from my aunt Winnifred Kelpfroth this morning. She said to me, “First of all, Howard. Congratulations for finally learning your true last name of Bunt.” I said, “Thanks. But this means you are no longer my actual aunt.” She said, “Aunt by adoption still counts as an aunt.” I said that was true.

    Well, then aunt Winnie said, “The evenings around here are getting more and more exciting. The upstairs neighbour has completely lost control of her children. They scream and howlll at their mother late into the night.” I said, “I am sorry to hear that.” My aunt said, “Yes. It’s getting so that we don’t have to bang on the ceiling anymore. We just listen to the tortured screams of the parents and it is music to our ears. Their poor parenting techniques are finally paying off in dividends. The mother puts the kids to bed and they won’t stay in bed, and then she yells at her husband to get involved, but he is so busy on the phone with his clients even late at night, he can’t help. It’s just great. And the best part was when she used that robot.” I said, “What? A robot?”

    My aunt said, “It started at the beginning of the month. There was a giant box left in the hallway, right in front of our door too. We couldn’t get out. But the mother and her female friend from the other rental above Mrs. Saltzman, hauled it upstairs. I could hear them working on it and then they left. When the husband came home, I heard him say, “Oh. A present from Weed. He’s so generous. He must have gotten those computer chips inserted on Deanna, like we talked about. Let’s see how she works now.” Then all was peaceful and calm in their house. The kids were happy. The dad was happy. And we were happy, because, for the first time since we lived here, people were not making too much noise upstairs.

    But then we could tell something went wrong, right after the husband said, “Deanna. Here’s the manuscript for my new novel. Why don’t you read it and tell me how wonderful it is.“ Then the husband started running around and saying, “There shouldn’t be smoke coming out of your head, Deanna. Stop it! You’re scaring the children.” There was a lot of screaming and a little bit after that the real mother came home. It’s been a disaster since. The little girl comes up to her mother and says, “Mom? Mom! Mommy? Mom!” because she is not sure if the person in front of her is her mother or a robot. And the little boy, I am pretty sure, preferred the robot. The husband however is so self-absorbed, he believes what happened was the chips on his wife malfunctioned. He didn’t even notice his wife and her female friend from the other rental dragging a smoking robot out of the apartment. A person could have a heart attack or a stroke in front of him, and he probably wouldn’t notice.

    So, it’s noisy now, but it is so much fun. Melville and I don’t even need to turn on the television. We just sit back relax and listen to the chaos above.” I told my Aunt Winnie that was an interesting story. A robot, eh? I can’t say that I am surprised. I thought you might want to hear this story.

    Howard Bunt

     
  • At 11:26 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Mr. Patterson, my thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. Now that I know about the disturbing news you received on Monday night, it explains the poor quality of the so-called "love sonnet" that you delivered to me on Tuesday. You were clearly too consumed with worry over your Grandpa's health to be able to put 2 coherent sentences together. When I read your poem to the lovely Miss Lodge on our date, she busted out laughing and immediately dumped me for Reggie. Now I'm stuck with Betty Cooper, who everyone knows never puts out! Although I understand that this is a difficult time for you, I must insist that you either deliver an improved love sonnet in time for my date with Betty this Friday night, or refund my payment in full. This time, please refrain from using the phrase "Shall I compare thee to a Saskatchewan war bride", and from rhyming "Sheilagh" with "I wanna feel ya".

     
  • At 2:30 PM, Blogger Luann DeGroot said…

    Apes,

    I just realized that i met ur grandparents over the summer when i was working in the dining room @ the old folks home. i didn't make the connection b4, but Mrs. Horner pointed it out yesterday. ur grandpa was the 1 who was always staring @ the waitresses, with a faraway look like he was thinking about something else. i can see why ur grandma didn't realize there was something wrong w/him @ 1st.

    Hope u get some good news soon!

    Luann

     
  • At 3:11 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    I am so upset right now, I don't know how I'm going to type this, you know I can't handle stress well. But here it is, I called Paul last night, and I said, "Hello my current love, how are you?" and Paul got upset and said "What do you mean, 'current love'?" and I said "What do you mean, what do I mean?" and Paul said "Aren't I just your love?" and I said "No, you are my current love, that is to distinguish you from the other ones."

    Then Paul got very angry and he said "Just how many loves do you have right now?" and I said "Well if you really think about it, four serious ones," and Paul got really mad but then I heard himself say, "Get ahold of yourself, Wright. Breathe. Just breathe. This is what she's like" and then he said, "Okay, explain what you mean by that" and I said well here's a list:

    1) You Paul are my current love, the man I claim to want to be with right now;

    2) Anthony is my old flame who is still carrying a torch for me (get it? hee!);

    3) Eric was my first real adult relationship, and he was "The One" but that idiot didn't cooperate; and

    4) Warren is probably still hung up on me, after all, I chose the policeman over the pilot, and he still loved me from far away for a long time, so he probably still does.

    Then Paul said, "Three and Four don't bother me but if your friend Anthony still has a torch for you then why are you cuddling in bed with him?" and I said "Because I need moral support" and Paul got really quiet then, so I changed the subject and I asked him "So did you see Grey's Anatomy last night? I really like that Meredith character, don't you?" Then Paul said he had to go, we hardly had any time to talk, what kind of moral support is that?

    Liz

     
  • At 3:33 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Liz,

    Let me know if you need more moral support tonight, especialy if your parents and sister are away again at the hospital. BTW, I love the bath bubbles you use, they're lemon-fresh.

    I think it's sad that at such a stressful and chaotic time in your life your current love can't offer you the kind of support someone whose grandfather is in the hospital, with every chance of never recovering his sense of humor, needs. I can promise you, as a Rex Kwon Do Champion of Freedom and Justice, that I would never leave you without my devoted and athletic support!

    Please let me know about the moral support stuff ASAP. I don't know about carrying a torch, but I sure have a log.

    Anthony

     
  • At 4:23 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Anthony,

    If you have logs, bring them over, we can make a fire in the fire place and you can snuggle me for that moral support while everyone else is at the hospital, I even have some cocoa, and Candace taught me a great trick, where you put vodka and either Kahlua or Bailey's in it where it tastes really good.

    Liz

     
  • At 4:32 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Liz,

    Ummm, I've only got one log but I can show you where to put it so it's really hot.

    That cocoa sounds good but not so strong, okay? That Jim Richards Memorial tea & rum & cognac with a scotch chaser to commemorate his various postings in the war made me ralph all over my carseat and the service-prep guys at MMM are being real a-holes about the stains.

    Anthony

     
  • At 6:57 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    I just love poetry, as you know I read a lot of Yates in that Freshman English class they made us take at university, even though I told them I wanted to be a teacher, can you believe they still make you study every subject?

    Well I decided that whore Becky McGuire is not going to be the only one to perform at Grandpa's funeral, whenever that might happen, so I hurried up and wrote a poem today, let's see if you like it.

    Stop all the deadline clocks
    Get Mike off the telephone,
    Prevent the dogs from barking
    By Mom yelling "Pipe down!"
    Silence April's guitar
    And with Uncle Phil's trumpet
    Bring out Grandpa Jim's coffin
    Let the Pattersons and the Richardses come.

    Let Warren fly a skywriter overhead
    Scribbling a message for Milborough
    Grandpa Jim is dead
    Put some black clothes on to show your love
    Make the doctors wear black latex gloves

    He wasn't up North, he lived down South,
    In Milborough East, on Geezer Park West,
    I couldn't see him during my work week
    And on Sunday I need my rest
    (So I don't get depressed)
    Grandpa took lots of naps, he wasn't strong
    He took them at noon, at midnight, during Iris's talk and April's song
    I thought that Grandpa wouldn't be around forever, and I wasn't wrong.

    I was going to visit,
    but I didn't even make one.
    I just had so much paper grading to get done.
    I meant to go, I knew that I should.
    Oh well, he's gone, like Candace says we should just focus on the good.


    What do you all think, it's genius huh, I borrowed some of the ideas from a poem I heard in a movie, I think it might of been by Yates too. I worked really hard on it, I had to rewind "Four Weddings and a Funeral" about four hundred times to get it right.

    Liz

     
  • At 7:33 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Liz, it's so funny you should mention Warren Blackwood! My adoptive mom, Maggie O'Connell Mahaha, is a pilot, and she went to a Canadian pilots' convention in Vancouver recently. Coincidentally, one of the pilots at her table at the keynote dinner was Warren Blackwood. She so enjoyed chatting with him that she gave him a glamour photo of me, that she just happened to have in her purse. Then she "forgot" her sunglasses on the table after mentioning, "Marjee works at Sugar's Salon in Milborough." So guess what? Warren flew his heli to Milborough just so he could drop off my mom's sunglasses, and now we have a date tomorrow night! Isn't that romantic?

    Marjee

     

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