April's Real Blog

Saturday, September 30, 2006

Not Leaving

Mom told me abt trying 2 take Iris home Monday nite, Grandpa Jim's 1st nite there after the stroke. Mom was, like, "Iris, it's almost midnite. Let me take U home." And Iris was, like, "I don't want 2 leave Jim, Elly." Tho Mom sed, "I'll bring U back--1st thing int the morning. I promise", Iris went, "I don't want 2 leave Jim." Mom pressed on w/"He's sleeping comfortably. There'z nothing more we can do. Come and get some rest." Iris clutched at Mom's arm, blinked a lot, and sed, "I don't want 2 leave him!!" Then she grabbed Gramps's hand, blinked a bunch while gazing @ him, and Mom had the feeling that Iris was thinking, "And...I don't want him 2 leave me."

So, if U've read my fam's monthly letters for October, U know a bit more abt Gramps. He's not talking [yet?], we don't know if he'll B able 2 walk or what-all else. It's really bad, like I sed in my letter, I can hardly think of NEthing else rite now. Funny how Dad can still start his letter with obsessing on the teeny-tiny train house, and Mike can start (and make his mostly abt) the "Sheilagh" manuscript. Gah. Oh, I didn't link the pets' letter, in case U care. Y do we even do that one?!?!?!?

Be well,

Apes (not the kind of "apes" in Mom's letter, tho)

posted by April Patterson @ 6:53 AM  

8 Comments:

  • At 3:12 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Speaking of family letters I was glad to see your dad finally giving me some of the credit I deserve for turning MMM into the Canadian success story it is.

    A lot of people wonder how a 24 year old guy in his first job out of college is running a dealership, gas station, restaurant, and maintenance center with such flair and success. Some of Gordon's team, like Bill the Sales Manager with nearly thirty years experience selling vehicles, or Jack who runs the service center (he used to own his own repair business for almost twenty years, now he's cut back to 30 hours a week, trading his extensive experience so he can be with his family), or Kathy at the diner (eight years as a restaurant manager), or Donna, who is actually licesned by Ontario to do accounting, all have to report to me.

    It's because none of them have vision. They all sit there in their little cubes making sure cars get fixed on time, or loans go through, or that customers are helped, new inventory bought, day to day humdrum stuff that, if you think about it, doesn't matter much. Anyone can move a few million dollars in inventory in a year, or service thousands of cars of all makes and models, or run a SAP inventory. We've got a resume box filled with those inside-the-box types.

    I'm the hard charger who spearheads initiatives like adding a cinnamon bun case! Through December and the first week of January, I make sure there are cheerful sleigh bells on the doors! At Halloween I go "boo!" a lot! I delieverd the strip-o-gram to the sexual harassment policy meeting and keep the butterscotch candy bowl in th waiting room filled! It's that kind of innovation that brightens everyone's day and makes MMM the place that it is.

    Before I showed up Gordon was keeping the ready cash in a spider plant and doing the schedule in grease pencil on the staff refrigerator. I showed him how Donna could do it on a computer once she learned how to use the software.

    Anyway, I'm glad I'm getting the credit I finally deserve. Your dad is a stand-up guy.

    Anthony

     

  • At 3:32 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    i told my dad i don't really know what-all he sees in u, anthony, but he just rolled his eyes and sed sumthing abt teenagers being surly.

    apes

     

  • At 4:44 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    april, normally wen ur monthly letterz come out, if urs duzn’t have sum kinda insult of me n it, i am pretty happy. that iz not the case this tyme. n the past u sed ur mom edited up ur monthly letterz 2 make it seem like eva & duncan were 2gethah, but u hadda a whole paragraph n ur lettah this tyme. thass a lotta editing. it makes me kinda think the whole bizness w/u, gerald, eva & duncan @hiz fam’s cabin n july; & wut u supposedly didn’t say n ur last monthly letter ‘bout them b-ing 2gethah; & duncan puttin’ hiz hands on eva @skool; & duncan & eva totally h8in’ on rebeccah wen they’re ‘round u; r kinda like the truth & mebbe u knew eva haz been c-ing duncan the whole tyme she wuz c-ing me. it kinda hurts u know. i know girlz stick 2gethah & stuff, so i am tryin’ 2 unnerstand. neway it totally xxplainz y eva nevah carried a cell wen we were out 2gethah. she sed it wuz cuz a cowgirl duzn’t carry a loaded weapon on a d8, but now i figger she wuz just tryin’ 2 keep duncan frum callin’ her while we were out & findin’ out where she wuz.

    ‘bout the stuff on the skool halloween party, i wuz kinda disappointed u didn’t mention me w/rebeccah’s band, but i guess u were listin’ only the musicianz. rebeccah haz her own opinion ‘bout the othah stuff, but she iz prolly not gonna say it 2u, since ur goin’ thru a lot w/ur grandpa n hospital w/hiz stroke. sorry ‘bout ur grandpa. i hope he gets bettah, evn tho he ran ovah me w/the scooter that tyme.

     

  • At 5:41 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    jeremy, whatev mighta happed w/eva hooking up w/dunc, if she has, happed w/out my knowing. i don't even remember writing that para u r talking abt fr. the oct. letter, but 2 tell u the truth, since i have been so worried abt gramps, i don't remember writing ne of it. i'm not saying i didn't, it's just that i'm totally blanked on it. i read it an' it was like sum1 else had written it and i had 2, like catch up sumhow. i know that soundz totally krayzee. neway, i called dunc and he asked me not 2 say nething until he has a chance 2 post. then i called eva and she sed, "if dunc doesn't want u 2 say nething until he has a chance 2 post, then i'm not going 2 say nething either, cowgirl." then she started talking abt cowboy movies an' i got distracted and thankfully uncle phil offered 2 drive me 2 hospital 2 visit gramps again. i'm writing this fr. his room.

    apes

     

  • At 6:05 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    My planned fake wedding with Marjee Mahaha seems to have been aborted. She has spent night and day with Warren Blackwood, since he returned her mother’s sunglasses to her yesterday. I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands with my public presentation for my trial, and find a nice well-built man to fake marry instead of Marjee. So, I went into Pete’s Gym to work out. Pete was there, of course, with his bright orange shorts, and bright yellow shirt.

    I didn’t expect to find your father there working out, but there he was. He said, “Good to see you Howard. Looking forward to prison?” I said, “Not particularly.” Then he said, “Well it will probably be only a couple of months.” I said, “Probably more like a couple of years.”

    Then your dad said, “Wow, I am enjoying this fall weather! There is a certain smell that I love in the autumn. I think it is the smell of rotting leaves. I just love it.” I said, “Rotting leaves. You love that smell? That is a little unusual.” He said, “Well, it’s better than the smell of dirty gym jocks or sweaty nubile teenage girls rehearsing in our garage. When I loved those smells, it got me into trouble. Nobody harasses you when you say you like the smell of rotting leaves.” I told him that was quite true.

    Then your dad launched into a discussion of his future retirement house. I said, “I thought your wife had put an end to that idea.” Your dad said, “Nonsense. After a year with Elizabeth and April making her work like she is their slave, she will be anxious to move into a smaller house where there is not enough room for at least one and possibly both of them.” I told him that could be true. Then he told me the life story of George Stibbs, the current homeowner. I said, “So George was doing railroad repair on handcars before motorcars were introduced in 1944, eh?” Your dad said, “Isn’t that great? A man living right near me, and he’s going to give me such great ideas for a train layout.” I said, “So this means 62 years ago, he was working the railways. Is he like 90 years old?” Your father said, “What do you mean?” I said, “He had to work the railroad long enough to develop an opinion that motorcars were better than handcars. Assuming he was at least in his 20s, when the motorcars came into use, then he would be somewhere between 82 – 92 years old.” Your dad said, “I guess he could be that old.” I said, “Well, if he’s not, then maybe George is just telling you a story.” Your dad got a little upset about that. He pulled out his big book of trains and said, “George told me about using velocipedes, vehicles that looked like bicycles with a third wheel on the opposite track, that were used by the track gangs.” I said, “That article talks about them being used in the 19th century.” Your father said, “I don’t think I want to talk about this any more.”

    Then he said, “Howard. It must good for you being a young man. I am finding myself stiff and sore some mornings when I get up, especially after I have pushed myself to new levels with the exercising. That seems to be part of aging.” I said, “It should seem to be a normal part of working out. Remember to take a rest day in between working out muscle groups so the muscles have a chance to heal. If I pushed to a new level of exercising, I would be sore too.” Your dad said, “Interesting. I wonder why Elly told me it was because I was old.”

    Then he said, “Speaking of age, I got to help my partner Dr. Everett Callahan with a 3-year-old patient the other day. I just came in and explained what everything was for and why you use all the instruments. It worked. The child is looking forward to coming in next time!” I said, “I am very surprised.” Your dad said, “Yes. I started explaining things like how the Cone Socket Curette is a hygiene and/or periodontal instrument with screw in tips that come in carbon or stainless steel. The Cone socket screw in tips offer cost reduction & versatility and eliminates the hassle of sending out instruments for retipping. When a tip wears out, simply replace the worn tip with a new one yourself. With a wide variety of cone sockets to choose from, you can virtually make up any combination you want! And not long after that, the child was dead asleep and Dr. Callahan was able to finish easily.” I said, “That’s pretty clever to bore the child to sleep.” Your father said, “What do you mean?” I said, “Never mind.”

    Then your dad said, “My partner is finally going to be legitimate.” I said, “Elly is giving herself up to the law?” He said, “No. Dr. Callahan is engaged to get married.” I said, “To your dental assistant Jennifer?” Your dad said, “No. That didn’t work out. I’ve only met his fiancée once, but she’s pretty with short dark hair.” I said, “I could have guessed she would have short hair. Do you know anything more than that?” Your dad said, “She is a surgical nurse who specializes in joint replacements! Everett said, ‘I just tell her I need a new joint, man, and instead of going ‘Whoa! Get your own joint, dude.’ She replaces my joint.” I said, “That’s a very good imitation of Everett.” Your dad said, “Thanks. I practice. Until I met Everett’s fiancée, I did not know that nurses specialized, but apparently that's happening more and more, as they take extra training.”

    ”Then your dad said, “You should come over to the dentist office for a visit sometime.” I said, “I have an appointment in 4 months, but I am not sure how I will make the appointment when I am in prison.” Your dad said, “Just come over anytime. It would be like a social visit. People are so not afraid of dentists, they just come over for the gossip.” I said, “I seriously doubt this is true.” Your dad said, “OK. It’s for the free beer. A little business idea that came from none other than that brain of all brains, Anthony Caine. I am thinking about calling him Anthony Brain, he’s so smart.” I said, “Are we talking about the same Anthony Caine—the one who tweaked my ear last year?” Your dad said, “The very one. I have lately learned that a lot of the ideas that helped Gordon Mayes to be such a success actually came from Anthony, and Gordon just executed them.” I said, “Like what idea?” Your dad said, “The restaurant.” I said, “I am pretty sure that restaurant has been around for longer than Anthony worked with Gordon. Where did you get your information?” Your dad said, “It was in the mail. A lovely flyer which read, ‘Submitted for your approval, Anthony Caine as son-in-law.’ It listed all of his qualifications for the job and I must admit, it was quite educational, although I didn’t understand why it was listed as a part of the Rex Kwan Do method of martial arts.”

    Then your dad said, “I have taken up ironing.” And as he was about to launch into a discussion about that, your mother came in the gym and said, “You’ve been in here long enough. Let me take you home.” Your dad said, “I don’t want to leave the gym, Elly.” Your mother said, “I’ll bring you back--first thing in the morning. I promise.” Your dad said, “I don’t want to leave the gym.” Your mom said, “You’ve lifted all the weights. There’s nothing more you can do. Come and get some rest.” Your dad said, “No. Leave, Gym!!” Then your mom whipped out a frying pan and that was the end of that. I helped her carry your dad’s unconscious body to her Crevasse. She said, “Thanks, Howard. I’ll be thinking of you when you’re in prison.” I said, “You’re welcome”, but afterwards I wasn’t sure why I said that.

    Anyway, that’s what happened. I hope you find the story interesting.

    Howard Bunt

     

  • At 6:51 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    so apes, did ur bitch of a mom drag iris away kicking an' screaming, or what?

    like hello, dr. ted wuz saying that the way hospitals treat family visits is totally changed now, they think it is good 4 fams 2 b around an' that's y they will even bring in a xxtra bed 4 the spouse like iris sed in her letter. y wouldn't ur mom let her use it? duz she think she knows better then the drs?

    that's what dr. ted sez. he sed "i told those nurses that the next time that know-it-all, potato-nosed college dropout tries 2 run my hospital, 2 punch her rite in the nose." an' i sed "i don't think it's rilly ur hospital" an' dr. ted sed "actually i m 1 of the major shareholders an' the chairman of the board. so it kind of is." u better tell ur mom 2 str8en up or ted is gonna have her banned frum the hospital.

    also, he sed ur stupid sister-in-law is making problems 2. she has been calling iris an' lecturing her abt strokes. sum of the stuff she told iris is diff frum what jim's dr told her, an' she came in the other day all confused an' upset, saying that that dumb ho dee has been telling her 2 get reddy 2 b a full-time intensive care nurse cuz jim is basically gonna come home a total veg that's depressed an' laffing all at the same time. the drs sed she was super upset. they made iris promise not 2 talk 2 dee nemore. hopefully that will fix the prob but u should rilly tell dee 2 shut her fat mouth.

    wow, u can learn a lot frum ur philandering future stepdad, huh?

    becks

     

  • At 8:07 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    becks, my mom pretty much thinx she knowz more abt every1 else. dee kinda does 2. hm, mayB that's what attracted mike 2 dee, eh?

    apes

     

  • At 4:02 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    April,

    Little sis. Sometimes I am such a good father, I cannot even believe it myself. The timing of being a good father is so precise, I doubt that a lesser man than Michael Patterson could accomplish it without divine guidance. Of course, sometimes I feel like I, myself, Michael Patterson could give out divine guidance. Let me give you an example.

    Just today, my daughter and my son, I forget their names. However, for the point of identification, let’s say my daughter is the great purple one, and my son is the one dressed like he participates in a marching band, with colour-coordinated tuxedo pants and matching shirt and socks. Oftentimes the great purple one likes to chase marching band boy around our apartment, with the frightening threat of being touched. The great purple one usually has the speed advantage over marching band boy, because of her extraordinary full leg extension when she runs, and the fact that she can hover. Marching band boy also occasionally hovers, but usually only when he is about to get caught by the great purple one.

    It was all good fun until the great purple one showed marching band boy a sight that he had seldom seen before---teeth! I have to admit I was frightened by the sight too, but marching band boy was especially afraid and slammed a door on the hand of the great purple one, a blow so vigorous, not only did it affect the great purple one’s hand but the resultant explosive light was so powerful, it caused me, for a brief instant, to be seen as a silhouette.

    Now there are those who may say that if your child’s hand gets caught in a closing door, the first thing to do is call your doctor and see if the child’s symptoms merit going to hospital for an x-ray. But as mother has taught me, via her own attentions toward my children, that you do not act, unless you are absolutely sure you are needed. You have to wait for just the right moment to intervene or people will not appreciate you as much as if you are there with them all the time, like a certain mother-in-law I know.

    So, I waited. I waited as the great purple one gasped at the sight of her reddened digits. I waited as the great purple one gasped as she achieved a catatonic state and her eyes started to turn a slight shade of blue, as she appeared to be going in to some kind of shock. I waited as the great purple one opened her mouth as wide as it goes gasping for the precious air. And still, I waited. Then finally the moment came. The great purple one’s bulbous lips receded into her head and she cried a great “Yeeowww”. I took her in my arms and gave her the best medicine a father can give--- a great, big hug. As her tears went careening about around her, I thought to myself, “A big hurt needs a big cry.”

    But perhaps I should define my terms better:
    Tiny hurt: A bump. Needs a cry lasting 2-3 seconds.
    Small hurt: A scrape where the skin is broken. Needs a cry lasting no more than 15 seconds.
    Medium hurt: A deep laceration. Needs a cry lasting no more than 1 minute.
    Big hurt: Anything which would normally include a hospital visit. Needs a cry lasting no more than 3 minutes.

    The great purple one was still crying after the 3 minutes was up, and I told her that her time was up, but it did not matter. Yours truly had saved the day with my hug and I was once again, super father to my kids. I tell you little sis, some days it just pays to be a great dad.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     

Post a Comment

<< Home