PARTING OF THE WAYS!

Whilst the world was going about its business this week, and the 'new' year was starting to get into full swing, we had some very sad news.  My brother-in-law passed away.  It was not expected by us, although I am not entirely sure he did not know that his end was near.  He was, to me, apart from being a gentleman in every aspect of the word, generous to a fault, and always delighted to see us, the epitome of the southern American.  Although not born in Dallas, he lived there for many years, and could have come straight out of the television series bearing the same name.  His 'turn of phrase' would often have me smiling as he referred to 'momma' and 'daddy' just as did J.R Ewing, of whom he was the exact opposite.  I remember the first time I met him, thinking, 'This is Texas!'.  Therefore, despite the deep, and heartbreaking sadness, I am able to smile at the memories.

The week did not start off sad.  All the signs of life seemed to return and more people came back to work in our building.  New Year felicitations were repeated to those who had not been in last week, and swapping of yuletide adventures were once again the topic of conversation.  It was quite chilly, and I was able to walk the catwalk in my winter wardrobe, much of which I had brought with me from England.  The seldom worn attire is still in pristine condition.  

After the holidays in November, and short weeks in December, most were rather exhausted, having had to work a full week last week!  I encountered more than one person who would have happily sung the lyrics to the Boomtown Rats' hit, "I don't like Mondays", despite not quite understanding to what the words referred!  However, our Monday was more like the Bangles, in that it was 'Manic'!  

My knowledge was sought and rejected, and then sought again.  "Have the letters arrived in Mexico yet?" asked a client.  I responded that if they were sent on Friday, Monday would be far too soon for them to have reached the border, and they were probably basquing in the California sun, before heading south.  As my opinion was being mulled over, and deemed 'incredible', I checked the website for updates.  Dana was reiterating my oft verbalised rhetoric, that once a piece of mail, no matter what tracking is attached, heads south of the border, the likelihood of ever seeing it again is slim. It normally gets to its destination, but the return receipt is hardly ever seen. Of course, I would not go so far as to cast any distrust on the postal systems of other countries, but the little pink cards rarely make it back to our office.  As the conversation was ensuing, the website revealed that the piece of mail was indeed where I said it would be.  "It's in Los Angeles", I shouted through the glass.  "It's at the sorting office".  Of course, I could not answer why it was there, and why it did not go on a direct course south, rather than across and then down, but I knew the route.  "If it goes north, it has to go through New York, and if it goes south, it goes through California.  East and West, you got me.  Probably the same sorting offices.  New York East, California West. I don't know that I have sent anything East or West", I continued.  It sounded good!  Citizenship does not mean complete knowledge of one's postal system!  

With my residency, or should I say tenancy coming of age this year, I feel a little more confident in stating what I know.  I was having a 'to and fro' with my friend, (and neighbour,) this week, and stating a few points of law and statute! 

"I've won", said Samantha, as she entered my home on Tuesday. "What have you won?" I asked, wondering what I had entered on her behalf.  "Ticket's to a cirque", she responded.  She had been checking on a previous prize, and found another email in the inbox.  "When did you enter that?" I asked, tongue in cheek.  "Dunno.  You will have to ask my mother", she said, equally as sarcastic!  The performance was for Saturday afternoon, and I was already wondering if this would impact our usual routine!

Midweek came around and I left the house on Wednesday morning feeling rather drained.  The sunrise had been spectacular, and the sky looked like it was on fire, but there was something wrong. I was unsure as to why, but there was something amiss.  I told Dana when I got to the office, but said I could not put my finger on it! He shrugged and said he could not think of anything that could be wrong.  It was later in the day, when he came home, that he told me about his brother.  He said that he would probably have to travel to Dallas after work on Friday, and I insisted that we go together.  Weekend routine disruption paled into insignificance.  

Unfortunately, for me, (and perhaps those around me,) I deal with devastating news inappropriately.  Samantha was on facetime when Dana came home, and asked me what was wrong.  When I told her, it took all my strength to not laugh. In fact, I felt a fit of the giggles coming on and had to hold my breath!  This, I am told is not uncommon, and years ago was attributed to the fact that ones sad and happy 'emotions' are very close together, and it is a 'shock' element that causes the laughter.  Now, experts have decided that it is because the person is 'suffering' from some form of acute condition, which although does not make you a sociopath, could possibly indicate that you are in that 'arena'.  I think I will stick with the former, as it makes more sense to me!  However, I digress.  Although I have met most of Dana's family, I have still to meet his second brother, and he would be coming to Dallas on Friday.  I had visions of the initial visit, with the usual 'pleased to meet you' hand shake, or perhaps hug (as Rick had greeted me on the first occasion, making me feel a part of the family) and then expressing my condolences, laughing like a hyena! It was not a pleasant thought!

The news had sunk in on Thursday morning, and we were all a little more 'strategic' in our thinking.  Dana's sister was driving from her home to Dallas, and their brother was flying in on Friday.  They chatted about what had to be accomplished, on a practical level, and once she was at the house, she would know more of what needed to be done.  I was doing fine until I tripped over the box of 'goodies' he had sent at Christmas, and the tears started to roll.  I reminded myself of the good memories, and the man who was the 'epitome of Texas'. It did bring a smile to my face.

I convinced Dana that driving on Friday night was probably not a good idea.  If we left straight after work, we would arrive late, and not really be in much of a state to do anything until morning.  He agreed that an early start of Saturday would make more sense.  However, upon talking to his sister, it was further agreed that there was not really a lot of point in us going at all.  With both her and their elder brother there, we would probably be more of a hinderance than a help.  She asked if we could be 'on call', and we agreed.  They would sort out the immediate needs, and return at a later date. I felt somewhat relieved, but then guilty that I would feel relieved!  My husband often reminds me that he comes from a military family, and whilst they are loving, and caring and would do anything for each other, they were very practical.  My husband's emotional breakpoint was when he received messages from Richard, Steph and the boys. I told him that is how my family do things!  

Samantha, Edward and two of their friends enjoyed the 'cirque'.  It was a water circus, and although I am not sure as to what that actually means, it was very entertaining by all accounts.  As the winds were very high, and they were going to be out for a few hours, we offered to look after the dogs on Saturday afternoon.  I was glad that they had the opportunity to go to the show, and her friend asked, "How do you get these tickets".  My daughter's response was, "My mother goes in for contests....".  When asked if they had been to many of these 'cirques', she said she had, and her friend asked how she knew about them.  She responded, "Well, my mother goes in for contents....".  

The weekend did not completely come to an end today as tomorrow is Martin Luther Day.  The first 'bank holiday' of the year.  I am not sure as to my plans at this moment.  I know I shall not be sunning by the pool!  We will be at home.  Going to Dallas for the weekend was always an amusing concept for me, as for years it was always so far away, and perhaps a 'bucket list' item.  However, going to Dallas for the weekend will not be the same again.  No doubt, I will meet my other brother in law, sooner rather than later, but the initial shock will have worn off and I will not behave inappropriately!  Time will tell and it will definitely be ..... another story!