My Rock

This was read yesterday 5/18/13 for my dad’s memorial service.

——————

Dad has always been my rock
Now he’s gone
and that hurts.

38 years together
66 years on the Earth
Married 42 years to my mom
4 1/2 years with brain cancer.

I wanted two more decades
We all wanted two more decades.

I am glad he is no longer suffering.
But would love to have years at Ferry Beach
and the ocean of Maine together.

Walking, laughing, being together and listening to jazz.

Dad has always been the rock in my life,
it hurts, it will always hurt.

I miss you dad.
Sadness comes in waves.

(c) 2013 Edmund Davis-Quinn

Almost Six Weeks Later

Have a had a rollercoaster of a time since my dad passed away on April 1.

A new poetry book, a wave of creative energy, full blast of mania.

Hospitalization, lithium, crash.

It’s been a heck of a ride.

Finally drove for the first time in a month today.

Glad that lithium crashed my mania hard, but wondering if 1200mg is too much, going to ask doctor about it on Tuesday.

Really wish I took short term disability at work. When it doubt say yes. We are making it through barely. Not appreciating Sallie Mae at all. When the country decided to make loans over grants for student aid it created a massive and frankly very mean organization. I really wish I could have ended it via bankruptcy. Madness in August, 2001 took a lot out of me. It took me a long time to get over. I ended up in London unmedicated, after leaving the Oxford Trade Program, never was medicated. The twin towers came down while I was depressed but still in a mixed state. I am only a month after mania cresting again hard and doing mostly really well.

I don’t think this one will take four years to get over, for that I am thankful. The last mania did I had to write a book during NaNoWrimo “No Filter: A Travelogue of Madness” to get over it that I wrote in November, 2005, many years later. Felt guilt about it for so long. Kept thinking in the past.

This time, my dad’s funeral is on Saturday. Sadness still comes in waves. I have been sleeping a lot since out of the hospital on April 26th. So thankful for my cats Lenny and Squiggy being near me. I learned more in that fortnight then almost any time I can remember in my life. Even got to experience how bizarre prison was for 3 days mostly in isolation.

And very happy to be going off to the Berkshires with my pagan community, Earthspirit for Rites of Spring. It has been a wonderful time for green, grounding and friendship since I have known my wife in 2003.

A lot to do until then. Glad I have been able to get some support from family, friends and most especially Lanna.

Think it may still be a while before I blog every day but it’s been a rich six weeks. Hoping the rest of this week is mostly good, the funeral will be tough.

Hoping Rites of Spring brings green and balance, I think I may need to meditate again this year.

Peace be with you. Don’t forget to tell your beloveds you love them.
Blessed be.

Edmund

Best Slam Team. Ever.

I love the Rhythmic Cypher slam team. In a typically male dominated format it’s ALL women. They are all great writers and performers. For me it’s all about the writing first.

Grand Slam Champion: Princess. Total rockstar. Black, big and proud. Best poem about boobs and big breasts ever. I love you. You are awesome.

T Love Smith: Love that your are on the team. The Rhythmic Cypher now that it’s at Dobra Tea I am sure is everything you dreamed it could be. Just beautiful. Safe space allows magic to happen. You are also a hell of a poet.

Robin Merrill: One of my favorite people in Maine and favorite poets. We are each other’s fans. She calls my Twitter (@rurugby) one of her favorites. Her “Jesus is a Feminist” poem makes me think that maybe that Jesus is the divine feminine and that God is a phallus. More of a balanced energy than the father/son of the Bible. I have always thought women make better ministers than men do. Women tend to be collaborative and are usually better listeners. I love matriarchal churches and the divine feminine. It’s one of the reasons I am drawn to pagan spirituality. I recommend you read Starhawk and Margot Adler for more on the divine feminine. You are an amazing poet, I am glad you are being recognized in the performance/slam community.

Zanne Langlois: I have always loved your wordsmithing. It inspires my writing. And I want to learn more from you where to walk and be away from the world. I am so thrilled that you will be part of RC. I love that all of you can help each other write better. The energy of female poets has inspired me since the first time I saw a Women of the World slam.

Sarah Lynn Herklots: 10th to 5th in the last round is a heck of a comeback. I love your humor and style. You have always made me belly laugh. And I have always been a fan. I think stand up is great training for performance poets. Going to Slainte on a Wednesday night for a comedy open mic though proves how much better poetry is. There is real honesty in poetry. Even funny poems come from an honest place. Your work is beautiful.

Everyone competing tonight was amazing. I am so looking forward to what group pieces and other pieces Rhythmic Cypher comes up with. What a beautiful group of women. I love you all.

Edmund
ed2d2

Colleen Hoover Tribute/ Inside Back Cover of Embrace The Geek Chapbook edition. My first chapbook and book #1 in my writing career.

My friend Colleen Hoover started her writer’s journey with me as a self-published author in January, 2012. I was one of the first people to read her amazing debut novel “Slammed”. She is a major tribute of my first book. Here it is as part of book #0 of my poetry writing career to 100 copy limited edition chapbook of “Embracing the Geek: A Writer’s Journey Selected Poems 2010-2013″. A better edited true bound edition of the work that will probably be around 75 pages (chapbook is only 45) will be coming out near the end of the month details on that soon. Here is my tribute to Colleen and buy her book, please. The poem “Write Poorly” is previously published in Colleen Hoover’s book “Point of Retreat” that was both self published in e-version through Kindle and other e-readers. It is also published by Atria publishing, and imprint of Simon and Schuster. I encourage everyone who loves poetry and a good story to read Colleen Hoover’s “Slammed” series. The first book is Slammed, second book is Point of Retreat, and the third book “This Girl: A Novel” is due out in ebook form on April 30th and print form on August 13th.
Colleen Hoover’s story of a social worker getting by, who writes a book after hours is inspiring. She lost sleep in order to write “Slammed” a young adult romance novel that involves slam poetry, and released it on eBook in January, 2012. And a few months later she was able to buy her first house, and become a New York Times Best Selling author. It’s the American dream and it happened because of the eBook. Although eBooks are still not great for poetry. You can’t keep the line formatting when you expand the text.
Thank you for buying my book, and I hope you enjoy it. You can contact me via, Facebook, Twitter, or my e-mail address. Let me know you bought my book and would love to friend you on Facebook at Edmund Charles Davis-Quinn. My twitter is @rurugby. And you can reach me by e-mail at edquinn@gmail.com. I would love any feedback and thank you so, so much for enjoying my writing, my poetry and my art. Make art, it’s good for the soul.
Edmund Charles Davis-Quinn
Westbrook, ME
April 11th, 2013.

Embracing the Geek: A Writers Journey Selected Poems 2010-2013. My first book.

My first book called “Embracing the Geek: A Writers Journey Selected Poems 2010-2013″ is almost ready to be available in PDF tonight.

I need to type in one poem that is still in journal, and then do formatting with my wife tonight.

The goal of the book is in the wonderful quote by Kurt Vonnegut in my 2nd favorite book of his (to Slaughterhouse-Five) “A Man Without a Country”:

“If you want to really hurt you parents, and you don’t have the nerve to be gay, the least you can do is go into the arts. I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possible can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”

So make something, anything. A pot at a pottery store, it may not be symettrical, it may crack, it may not hold water and need to be used for pens, but it will be your cup, that you made, with your hands. And it will be art.

Or like me and Lanna Lee you could blog every day. If you average 100 words a day it’s a novella, 250 words a day a full modern novel (365 pages). And the post can simply be “today f**king sucks. Ow!” That’s a blogpost you kept up your writing journey. And you will keep improving and if you use a blogging program like WordPress easily archive your work.

It’s also about gratitude to my writer’s journey. From 2nd to 4th grade I wanted to be a writer. I learned to create my work on a computer and let it flow. Then in 5th grade, I had a terrible, horrendous, not very good English teacher that thought me being on a computer was an abomination of his narrow worldview. These terrible teachers have tenure, and continue to infect students for decades. Meanwhile the amazing, creative teachers who inspire art, creativity and writing are on 1 year contracts and not hired on. There is both my amazing 4th grade Language Arts/English teacher and some of my friends I am thinking of here.

The book starts with the Vonnegut quote and then has a very long acknowledgment. If you are listed on it, congratulations! You have earned a free PDF copy of the book. I only have 100 copies of the book, signed and numbered so if you want one assigned (there are about 35/100 books unclaimed before even PDF release) please let me know on the blog, or my e-mail address edquinn at gmail dot com (to avoid spam), my Twitter feed at @rurugby or my Facebook at Edmund Charles Davis-Quinn.

Here is the acknowledgment:

This limited edition chapbook is designed for all the people who have helped me in my writing and poetry journey. So if you have made this list of people who are awesome, you have earned a free chapbook. I would love to do trade for the poets in the room, and to pass the gratitude forward for those who are not. And maybe even inspire you to write.
I first want to dedicate this chapbook to the love of my life, the wonderful, fabulous and amazing Lanna Lee Maheux. She is my rock, my partner, and makes me life immensely richer. I love you.
Next I want to dedicate this book to the radically inclusive and safe space, Rhythmic Cypher. The 2nd poetry slam from the amazing small city of Portland, Maine. This was a dream and vision of my good friend Tina “T Love” Smith, and had a difficult birth in an imperfect space. Now that it has found its true home at the amazing Dobra Teahouse in Portland, Maine at 7pm on Sundays, it’s one of the best poetry slams in America. A place where genderqueers, gays, lesbians, freaks of all size, shapes and colors, and those afflicted with madness can feel safe. Where a 16 year old with panic disorder can read a beautiful and amazing poem about her condition and feel safe. Where Toben Tilgenman can make an amazing poem about what it means to be a man who was born in a woman’s body. Where music backs the poets, and the poets back each other. It is a spectacular success and I am so happy it is part of my community.
Next I want to thank New York Times bestselling author Colleen Hoover for first creating her wonderful young adult romance “Slammed” that used the power of the poetry slam to make the beautiful story of woman loses dad, woman loves boy across the street, boy across the street has no parents so transcendant, thank you. My friend Gennyfer Hanley sent me a link with the free eBook of slammed, and I loved it wrote a positive review on Amazon saying I was a slam poet and how much I love the book. She followed my blog at ed2dq.com and we became friends.
While Colleen was writing the follow-up to Slammed this time ahead in the story and from Wil (the boy’s perspective) called “Point of Retreat” she happened to see my blogpost/poem “Write Poorly” about simply writing and turning off the editor. She printed it off, put it up by her computer and looked at it whenever she felt discouraged or needed to remember to just write. I plan to make my second chapbook called “Write Poorly” with 500 copies. It is amazing to me that my little poem on my often not that read blogpost that often gets less than 10 pageviews a day inspired an author so much. So much that she put it in her book “Point of Retreat” that is a bestseller that has been read and loved by hundreds of thousands of people. Her 3rd book “Hopeless” is the number two eBook on Amazon so far in 2013, behind only behind Nicholas Sparks’ “Safe House”. Bemazing. That fact is surreal and amazing, that I may have more page reads in 2013 than the absolutely incredible and amazing Andrea Gibson who was the number one seller of the best slam poetry publishing house in America, Write Bloody Publications in 2012. Just ridiculous, if you haven’t read Andrea Gibson’s work yet and live in Portland, Maine go to Longfellow books and get a copy of her work, it’s outstanding.
Next I want to thank the Port Veritas writing, slam and poetry community for showing me love, giving me a place to read, and encouragement. Wil Gibson is a force of nature, and him saying “Write Poorly” is the best thing I ever read meant a lot. I have seen Port Veritas go from Acoustic Coffee, to the much beloved North Star Café, to Wil’s House, to the Mayo Street Arts Center, to Blue, to the wonderful restaurant Local Sprouts, and to it’s current location at Bull Feeney’s upstairs every Tuesday at 7:30pm.
I would be incomplete without talking about the amazing contributions of Tricia Hanley to Portland’s poetry scene and craft beer community. Her little bar, Mama’s Crowbar in Munjoy Hill, has some of the best craft beer you will ever drink in a wonderful small place. It would be my regular if I lived on the hill, but alas I live in Westbrook. They also host a reading hosted by Ryan McLellan that is unmiked, and at 9pm on Mondays. I do wish the reading is earlier so I can attend more. Unfortunately, I wake up at 4am most Mondays. It’s a great place to read.
Next I want to thank the heroes, friends, and compatriots of my journey towards embracing my inner geek. My recently departed father, Henry Edmunds Davis who passed away very recently on April 1, 2013 at 66 years old to brain cancer. You are one of the nicest men and fathers any son could wish for. I expected you to live so much longer, as did my wonderful mom Christine Davis. Their marriage is the great love I have seen through my life and it’s so sad it’s over after 42 years. Mom, I love you.
I also want to thank my wonderful and insanely intelligent sister, Melinda Davis Layten, who is ABD (all but dissertation) in computational biology and SUNY – Stony Brook. Dad’s illness I think took a lot out of my sister and brother-in-law Robert Layten, and I hope my dad’s journey away from pain, suffering and cancer allows her to become the brilliant scientist she is meant to be.
Next I want to thank the people who I have known the longest growing up in Montgomery Township, New Jersey north of Princeton. This chapbook may have the longest acknowledgements ever and I will just name some of my good friends that made feeling like an outcast in school easier: Greg Seidel, Bill Dyer, Conrad Saam, Anthony Schubert, Ben Dalbey, Eva Hanna, Kayt Sukel (who has an amazing book called “Dirty Minds” about the neuroscience of sex and love), Beth Cooper, Laura Hahn, Susan Flora …
Teachers including: Cheryl Watson, Jay Prag, Mr. Juliano, Mr. Harry Brobst, Ms. Williams and so many others.
And of course fellow poets including, who are mostly performance poets. I am about 20% a performance poet, and 80% a writer. Many of these excel at both and include: Heidi Therrien, Greg McKillop, Beau Williams, Jen Jacques, Toben, Emma Bovril, Paulie Lipman, Rachel McKibbens, Andrea Gibson, Billy Tuggle, Ryk McIntyre, Tony Brown, Melissa May, Sam Sax, Denise Jolly, Zanne Langlois, Robin Merrill and the fabulous Nancy Henry.
There are so many others I can mention but this is already an over 1,000 word acknowledgement to a chapbook. To all the friends I have made in the amazing city of Portland, Maine. Twitter has been an amazing way for this geek to meet people so I must thank Chyrstie Corns, and .. for creating them.
Also want to thank my Twitter heroes and friends like Alex Steed, Alexis Lyon, Keith Luke and so many others who make Portland a jewel of American cities.
I can’t name all the people who are part of my journey towards acceptance, but thank you all so much.

The last line of the book is “Make art, it’s good for the soul.” And it is so true.

Thank you and with much love,
Edmund Charles Davis-Quinn

Blessed be.
Make art! Suck!

My Dad’s Soul is Free NaPoWrimo 3/30

My mind reawakened
My dad’s soul free
My mind free of worry
Sometimes the slow struggle of death exhausts us.

No worries about illness
Not seeing his suffer
Seeing my dad out of pain,
the slow death of brain injury and cancer gone.

I miss him.
I wish I had 20 more years.
But it wasn’t meant to be.

He had a beautiful life.
Was an honest man.
A wonderful friend, amazing husband, great father.

I feel my creative soul re-awakened.
Like it’s time to go all in with poetry.
It’s time to go all in with poetry.

First feature last Friday,
2 slams this week.
2nd feature on Saturday,
April is so full of poetry.

My heart does hurt,
writing about his death makes me cry.
It also makes me glad,
of time together, working together especially as a young adult and teenager.

Of times with the piss jug in the back of the cube van.

Of always buying more equipment, but not always maintaining the old stuff.
Too much rent,
too many terrible employees,
but a business and going concern.

Great relationship with his customers,
maybe sometimes being too nice,
too trusting. Cheated by employees several times.
Not looking at costs and overhead in charges.

Had a Ph.D. in Agronomy ie Weed Science.
The occasional prank calls with his business the Weed Doctor.
Knew the entire map of greater Princeton and Montgomery in his head.
Even asked for run for city council a few times.

Active guy.
Loved the outdoors.
Love the desert of the Coachella Valley, California where he grew up.
Grew to love the midwest of Madison, Wisconsin and Columbus,
and the rolling hillsides of Montgomery Township, New Jersey.

Wanted to thru hike the Applachian Trail but then came the cancerm
then came the cancer,
then came the cancer.
Literally planning to lead a hike in the Poconos at UUMAC, the Unitarian Universalist Mid Atlantic Conference on the day he went to the hospital in July, 2008.

Brain cancer, long wait for surgery, long time in Neuro ICU.
One of the only responsive people there, kept saying “Jailbreak, Jailbreak”,
couldn’t get surgery because of blood condition.

Eventually found a bloodless brain surgeon at Pennsylvania Hospital in Philadelphia.
Able to get the tumor out.
Completely.
a clinical trial, 4 years mostly cancer free.

Came back in August, 2012.
First hospital didn’t want to do surgery, gave him 2 months.
Back to Pennsylvania Hospital.
Surgery was “successful” he removed the tumor, but it affected his left side greatly and a stroke on the table.

Another stroke a few months later.
Rehab, Nursing Home/ “Skilled Nursing”
Home Hospice just before Christmas.

Mom as caretaker,
when she is used to dad taking care of so much.
Not just lawns and lawn care, but her spirit, a lot of driving, just listening to hear talk so, so fast.

Both huge readers,
both consumers of knowledge,’
always tons of books in the house and lots of paper.
Still have the fetiish to keep papers until I read them far too often, Lanna my wife knows it too well.

Loved his jazz music to the end. Straight ahead jazz, be-bop, Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie, Billie Holliday, Ella Fitzgerald.
The iPod shuffle I got him sustained him in hospital, rehab and nursing homes.

Late in his life became a gun nut.
Even asked for his guns while his brain was falling away,
watching too much Military Channel,
too many shows of survivalists on the National Geographic Channel.

Getting in more pain,
having less cognition slowly,
on steroids, eating so, so much raisin bran.
Obsessed with his poop.

Pain management,
Oxycontin,
steroids,
anti-psychotics,
nursing aides,
caregiving,
couldn’t get up, couldn’t use the bathroom.

Almost no eating last 2 weeks,
his beautiful light brown/blonde bushy hair
going from flecks of gray,
to white.

Lost 20 pounds last 2 weeks,
still a big gut after all those steroids
and raisin bran.

A death gasp,
and gone.
Pain gone.
Worry gone.
Caregiving gone.
Dad gone.

Now time for me to move on.
Time to create.
And write.
And write.
Wanted to be a writer in 2nd grade,
4th grade,
working to be a writer and poet again.

Art is not the way to make a living,
but is how to make a life.
I miss you dad,
and this goes out to you.

Henry Edmunds Davis, RIP
October 23, 1946 – April 1, 2013.

A Constant Struggle, A Constant Worry

It’s been a tough 4 1/2 years since I heard my dad had cancer. Weeks in the Neuro ICU waiting for the blood results to get better to operate on a grapefruit size tumor in the frontal lobe. The worse kind of cancer glioblastoma multiforme (GBM). It was a hematology issue and as good as the nursing staff at Lehigh Valley Hospital is (it’s exceptional) they had a hematologist of the day, which did not work.

My sister Melinda found a doctor who does bloodless surgery for Jehovah’s Witnesses at the Pennsylvania Hospital in Philadelphia (the oldest hospital in the US near Independence Hall). Dad was finally able to have surgery, and it was successful and complete.

Later my dad was able to be part of a vaccine study at the University of Pittsburgh that was very successful and kept him mostly cancer free for the next 4 years. He was the star of the study. Someone with glioblastoma multiforme who lived far, far past the 12-18 month life expectancy.

Then in August my dad came home driving with the left side of the car scraped up, and the left mirror almost off the car. My mom took him to LensCrafters to get his vision checked and it turned out that we was missing a big chunk of his peripheral vision. His license was pulled, and time to see the Oncologist again. Turns out the tumor was back it was big and in the difficult to reach right thalamus a control center of the brain.

Back to Lehigh Valley. Where they said they couldn’t operate and it would be 2 months. The same doctor at Pennsylvania Hospital was able to operate again. The surgery was successful, but there was a stroke on the table and removing the thalamus also effected his motor skills. My dad was not able to move his left side.

Later came a few weeks of rehab, a month in the nursing home, and 3 months in hospice. Almost 6 months without able to get up. Craving nothing more than a shit, shave and shower. Wanting to get up. Wanting to be active. Not able to. Only got up out of bed with the help of physical therapist. Using the Hoyer lift at home was too difficult. Tried once to bring him to the dining room for dinner, but just far, far too much.

Dad kept forgetting he couldn’t use his left side. At rehab, he was coughing blood and back to Lehigh Valley HSP. He may have had another stroke there. I was called back to Pennsylvania, not long after leaving him after about a month off from work.

He thought mom was holding him up from getting out of bed. Said if I could get him out of bed with a stool, it would be okay. Unfortunately, okay was passed. He was stuck in bed. Hospice, pain management, preparing the soul to be released from the body. The body broken down. My dad was only 66 when he died. His mom lived to 90, his dad to 86. Mom expected 2 more decades I did too.

About a month ago, I was called back to PA for 2 weeks expecting it to be soon. Dad still had some cognitive ability. I found a copy of the amazing and seminal jazz record “Kind of Blue” and watched the documentary about how it was made with him. Dad loved jazz. Always loved jazz. Took me to see Dizzy Gillespie when I a toddler and made happy noises.

Loved jazz while I got him an iPod shuffle at the hospital, with some of his favorites like Miles Davis, Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, etc. Kept hearing stories about jazz, often the same stories. I know the music helped him. Reached a part of his brain directly that wasn’t the same.

It was a slow decline, but much worse after the surgery. And much, much worse the last month. Dad looked so much older in just the last 3 days we spent together. His light brown hair touched with gray, became white. The death rattle came. Moved him to his side, gave his lips water, and left the room for a second and he died around 3:45pm on April, 1st 2013.

It’s just Monday. I may be crying more writing this post now than I have since Monday. There was a sense of relief. My dad’s soul was released from a body broken down in pain. If you ever experience the miracle that is someone passing firsthand, you can see how the soul is in the body, then gone. My dad wasn’t there after death, just like my father in law.

So much pain in the last 14 months, my father in law’s sudden illness starting on President’s Day Weekend, 2012 and dying 6 weeks later. My dad doing pretty well, driving to see Walter in early March, 2012 while he was still doing pretty well and entertaining his vast extended family. Dad drove to the Unitarian Universalist General Assembly in Phoenix, AZ this summer and then up to Boise, Idaho to see my mom’s best friend, Mary Hester in an RV. He loved the idea of the RV, me and my mom thought it was a PITA. A good month on the road in mid-summer. A few weeks later not able to drive at all a new brain tumor.

I guess it was meant to be their last trip together. After 42 years. The last long trip was something else entirely. After my dad went to home hospice just before Christmas, mom almost never left the house. She wanted to be close, wanted to manage his medications. Tried the best he could to be a caretaker. The aides were there once a day to change him and clean up the bed. The nurse came once or twice a week, and was on call. Being a caretaker of hospice is so challenging. Humans make so much mess without a bathroom. So, so much mess. Nothing brings humility like changing your dad’s diaper and wiping his ass.

I’ve been back since yesterday afternoon. Did my first poetry feature last night, it was wonderful and affirming. At a bodybuilding competition all day today, a friend competing. Amazing but exhausting. Going to a poetry reading in Westbrook this morning, hearing that Alice Persons would like me to submit to her Animal Spirits poetry book sequel.

I feel like a weight has been lifted. I have been worried for the last 4 1/2 years when cancer would return. Since late August, I have been worried it would be soon. The surgery may have killed my dad. That may have been a blessing in a way if it did. I have missed 6 weeks of work in the last 6 months. Read less, wrote less, still blogged every day.

Got called back 3 times expecting death could be soon, on the 3rd time it was. Dad was almost unresponsive and hardly there. Whatever your beliefs of the afterlife, and as a UU theist I just don’t know, I am glad he is rid of his pain and his suffering. I felt his suffering in my heart. I felt in my soul. That worry is gone. That suffering is gone. Dad’s no longer here. I did expect him to live longer. But it’s a blessing I had these 4 1/2 years. But I need no more death for a long, long time. I have had too much in the last 15 months. Two beloved and close family members, two entirely different experiences.

To all those who are suffering brain injury and loss I offer my sympathy and prayers. To all those family members dealing with illness I offer my prayers. To all those seeing the slow death of Alzheimer’s, I offer my prayer. I offer my energy and intention. To get better with cancer. To get better with Alzheimer’s. To understand the brain more. Seeing your beloveds slip away slowly is one of the hardest things I can imagine. Whether you are 2 miles away or 400 miles away.

Being a caretaker is so challenging. Blessings to the aides that cleanup. The friends that listen. The parishioners and friends who pray. Blessings to nurses who listen. Doctors who try their best.

We have to get better, we must get better. I miss my dad. I’m glad his soul has been able to leave his broken body.

Peace. Rest in Peace.

Blessed be.

Edmund

Here is me as a baby, and me with my dad as a toddler. I have a huge head.

Me and my dad.

The Day After

My dad is no longer with us. Today I have mainly felt numb and napped a lot. There is a relief that he’s not suffering. And of course and absence he is no longer there.

So I live my life one day at a time. Don’t feel like going right back to work but good to take it easy for a few days.

Mainly I am feeling tired. I think naps are in my future tomorrow too.

And I do appreciate all the support everyone is giving online. It means a lot.

Rest in Peace

My dad Henry Edmunds Davis passed away at 3:45pm today.

It’s been a long and winding road. He got sick in Summer of 2008 with brain cancer and survived a very long time with a glioblastoma malforma (GBM) brain cancer. The first four years were very good, he did really well. But then it came back in August with a vengeance in the left thallmus. The surgery did remove the cancer but there was a stroke with it and he did change a lot after it. His left side didn’t work, and he couldn’t get up without help the last 6 months.

He has been home since December 21st which has been mainly a good thing. It’s a lot of work, a lot of changes, diapers, pads, changes. Humans make a lot of mess without a bathroom and a shower.

He has been frustrated, often bewildered, and hating that he couldn’t move on his own. Dad had a lawn care business and was used to being outside most of the time, and very active.

So it’s over now. It’s a relief in a way but I am numb right now. It’s good to be here and it’s one day at a time. My dad is no longer with us … a year and 8 days since I lost my father in law, it will get easier. It’s not easier now. And it’s strange to not see him in the room and just see an empty bed.

I am very glad I got him a iPod shuffle with some music. It helped him a lot before and after surgery, in rehab, skilled nursing and at home. Although the TV was on here. Was good to have Pandora to listen to on the Roku.

My dad is no longer among the living. I am lucky. He was a fantastic father, friend, husband and man. I couldn’t have done much better.

I do worry about mom, but she seems relieved in a way too. She no longer has to be caretaker. She can move on. This time without a partner.

But my theme song for this sickness has been “For the Good Times” by Johnny Cash. Thank you for your support.

And some classic Miles Davis “So What” from his amazing Kind of Blue album, because my dad simply adored jazz.

Rest in Peace, and forever be in our memories. We love you dad. Blessed be.

There, Not There

In Pennsylvania.

Dad is alive. But he is hardly there. It’s just a matter of time. Still planning to go back to Maine on Wednesday. I just can’t afford to be here very long.

Not working gets expensive quickly. As does travel.

Good to be here. I am not sure if my dad knows I am here. He is drinking a little, and eating very little. It’s soon, I still don’t know when.

Good to be here. Hard to be here. It’s all too soon, much too soon.

Do wish I could eat some lamb today but both my wife and my brother in law don’t like it, so having a downgrade to pork roast. So it goes.

Life is an odd adventure. You just have to roll with it. It’s a tough time time right now. Not sure if I will feel better or worse when it’s over. It’s been a long road, and it is not over yet.

But my dad is still with us, but he is hardly conscious. Hard times. Tough times. Death is not easy no matter how it comes. Especially to those it leaves behind.