Houston

So, we're in Houston now. Tuesday I was at the karate school, lightly taking a nap before class, when my dad called to tell me that his brother had died. I started calling students immediately and cancelling class, making preparations to head down here. Made sure I had relief at work, talked to my manager about picking up my check early, that sort of thing. And then I realized I was without anything to do, but thankfully one of my roommates suggested playing some Unreal Tournament 2004, so I did that mindlessly for a while.

Kenny was pretty bad off in the end. He was awake, nad had been for several days, which I hadn't known until Tuesday. He had really bad circulation, and his hands and feet were black from lack of blood. He would have needed them amputated even if he survived, as well as constant dialysis and 24-hour assistance. They took the respirator tube out about 3:30 Tuesday afternoon. He was dead within an hour. My mom said you could watch his heart rate slow on the monitor in the room. I'm glad I wasn't there.

My grandmother is taking it pretty hard at times. We watched home video footage she had taken of my wedding, and immediately following it was footage of my uncle opening presents. She started crying, and my dad started crying. I've rarely, if ever at all, seen my father cry.

Later on, she was showing us various photographs of her grandkids at various stages of growth, and she found some pictures of Kenny and her youngest son, Matt. She again broke down. What must it be like to outlive two of your children? She's started harping on my dad to quit smoking, so she doesn't have to bury him, too.

Of course my dad is fond of telling a story about this 90-year old musician who was told smoking would kill him. The musician replied, "You mean I'm gonna die? Do you smoke?" The questioner, I think my dad said it was Ed Sullivan, responded, proudly, that he did not. The musician responded, with a big smile, "Well, you gonna die, too."

So the memorial service is tonight, at 7. He's being cremated, and there will be no viewing of the remains, just a small service. The family would like no flowers sent, to instead make a small donation to charity, or just donate blood. I will probably do the latter, here at the hospital he was in.

Miss you uncle Kenny.

Objects of Newness

So there's the possibility of the ultimate blending of my two jobs. We've known for a while now that we need a new location for the karate school. The hotel operates a 2400 square-foot conference hall out in back, complete with air conditioning, a storage room, and two bathrooms. Sounds like a match.

Bad news, my manager/owner of the hotel rents the room for more per day than I pay for a month's rent at my current location. Still, I will approach him with a full proposal - the building is RARELY used on the days I'll be needing. It would be sitting there, earning him no money, while I could be using it AND paying him, albeit much less than what he normally makes. On the other hand, we won't be bringing food, or drinks, or loud music. So, hopefully he'll like the ideam and take into consideration that I've worked for him for longer than all of his other desk clerks combined.

Weariness

Figures my first real post here would be a bit dramatic...

7:20 AM - I get a call from the hotel where I work. My mother wants me to call her on her cell phone. This, of course, is immediate cause for alarm; with my uncle in the hospital and my brother becoming more and more th ever-rebellious teenager neither myself or my sister ever were, a plethora of morbid possibilities ran through my head.

The worst ones about my brother weren't true, thankfully. He's still alive, at least until I get my hands on him.

My uncle Kenny, though... is in bad shape. He's been the hospital in an induced coma for almost a month now. His liver has failed, and they apparently are unable to take him off of dialysis, meaning his kidneys are shot, too. I talked to my dad, briefly, and the doctors were going to be talking to my cousin sometime this morning - probably meaning they'll be taking him off of life support.

I've never been particularly close to my uncle. I've always enjoyed seeing him, and visiting him. My dad, though... this will be the second brother he's lost. His younger brother, Matt died when I was maybe 4 years old. I don't even remember him, which is what makes me the saddest. My dad used to be a professional photographer, carried his camera everywhere, so we have lots of pictures from that time, including my uncle. Looking at them makes me wonder what he was like. My sister can remember, although I don't know whether it's a real memory or one induced by being told the story many times, climbing on my uncle Matt while he was in the hospital. She was about 2. I don't even have that.

My family seems to be dying off in droves recently. My cousin Jason died in early 2001. It was a shocker, as we'd thought he was getting better, but not unexpected with a brain tumor. My grandmother died December 27, 2001 - I had talked to her on Christmas Day, and she sounded fine. She died during a routine dialysis appointment.

Her son, my uncle, died 6 months later, from a drug overdose. I was on vacation with my then-girlfriend-now-wife's family. Interestingly enough, my mom was on vacation in the same area, and we were scheduled to get together - of course, I didn't expect her first words to be "Uncle Kevin is dead." Kind of puts a dampener on things.

My grandmother's mother attended all three of those funerals. She died last year, though she lived far longer than anyone expected. I can remember one of the last times my mother visited Massachusetts with us kids she cried when we left my great-grandparents's house. She said this may be the last time she ever saw them. Her grandfather lived a decade longer, I believe. Her grandmother lasted 6 more.

Whew. So that's my stress relief for today.

Voa-voa and Voo-voo... miss you.