On the Road Again

I drove a round-trip total of 90 miles today to walk around Wal-Mart in my impractical new heels and blue hair. There is no almighty Super Wal-Mart with all you need to survive every stage of your life within Portland's city limits. And yet, Portlanders love theirselves some huge Fred Meyers, Targets, and at least 4 enormous malls. Wal-Mart must just be too gauche.

On the spur of the moment, I'm heading to Montana and Washington to visit relations. Lots of 'em are old, and might otherwise kick it before meeting the newest, brightest star in the constellation. I am officially chopped liver now that there is a Toby.

That's part of the truth, anyway. Really, I'm up for a challenge, some spice, a bit of a change of scenery. I would consider a tour with a crappy orchestra if I thought it would get me a hall pass field trip vibe.

Part of our trip will be visiting my uncle Tommy's wife. He is in the end stage of early onset Alzheimers. That is one dirty dark alley of a disease, and I can't believe he is going through it. More than that, I can't believe his wife is going through it. She has MS. Their son is profoundly retarded and has physical problems. And then this?

Tom was my favorite uncle as a kid. He was fun, sweet, boisterous, quick to laugh and slightly baudy. He could belch the entire alphabet- this, in my clan, brought him a certain status. His hugs were some serious loveliness. In my teenage years I thought he was Cool- he drank a little more, swore more and had more mainstream "life-problems" than my parents.

Tom and his wife used to be a volatile couple, and you never knew what to expect when heading out into public with them. They would argue passionately, they would send food back for being the wrong temperature and send secret messages to the waitstaff through their tips. His wife once called me a "little asshole" when she thought a cousin and I had been too noisy. Then, sometime in the late nineties, everything about them seems to have changed.

They softened, smiled tolerantly at crappy restaurants, they mellowed.

Today Tommy is in a hospital bed drinking his meals. Do you understand? This absolutely makes my shortlist of questions on my own personal d-day. I get that there's a fallen world, that we're all doomed. But so much tough stuff in one little family?

Anyway, I know, I know- I'll reread some Yancy and The Problem of Pain, the book of Job. I'm not being completely dark. It's just sucking right now.