It's been 5 years since Tom passed. They have been some tough times. I fell from a second story in August of 2013 and broke my left leg, hip, elbow and wrist. In December of same year, Mom had a stroke. Finances continue to be a problem.
I've basically been disabled since my fall. Plates, pins, rods and screws hold me together. It's painful every time the air pressure changes. On rare occasions, I have a good day and get around really well. Otherwise, I have a big limp and have problems even standing some days.
Mom recovered quickly from her first stroke. Eight months later she had another major stroke. She's brain damaged now. Hasn't been able to walk since July 2014. I took care of her for a couple of years but she went to a nursing home in Austin in Feb 2017. She's bitter and believes everything she dreams. She's hard to handle.
I don't have a job so I rely on small trades, selling things I can make or sometimes friends have helped me out. I don't get disability, Denied! Taxes, maintenance fees and bills are constantly a problem to keep paid. The struggle is real.
Read on....I chronicled many things about Dad before he died. Some of the stories are funny and some amazing. All are factual!
The Legend of Tomjtexas
I was the man everyone wanted to be!
The unofficial biography and anecdotes of tomjtexas. Stories are in random order and posted as I can remember them. He passed away on January 17th 2013.
former HEALTH UPDATES are here!
(scroll to the bottom as they are in chronological order)Archived updates are
here
My Own Nickname For Dad
My dad had his own nickname for me. He called me "Pasquale." (pass-kwall-ee) He called me that because I learned to speak some Italian from talking to Italian neighbors. I learned the gestures and talked with my hands as well. I don't know where he came up with the name, but he called me Pasquale until he couldn't speak anymore.
I wanted my own nickname for Dad, something that only I was allowed to call him. I was reading an Archie's comic book, Archie called his father 'Pops' so I stole that idea. I told people that he didn't like it so I would be the only one allowed to call him that. I basically lied just so it would be special for only me. 40 years later, it seemed like everyone had adopted calling him Pops. He liked it. He knew it was a nickname he earned out of love and respect.
I'm actually glad that other people used that nickname for him. They could see how much I admired and idolized him. Even strangers called him Pops!
(My aunt Nete was the one who started calling me by my initials, she already had a son named Tommy) Too many Tom's in our family!
I wanted my own nickname for Dad, something that only I was allowed to call him. I was reading an Archie's comic book, Archie called his father 'Pops' so I stole that idea. I told people that he didn't like it so I would be the only one allowed to call him that. I basically lied just so it would be special for only me. 40 years later, it seemed like everyone had adopted calling him Pops. He liked it. He knew it was a nickname he earned out of love and respect.
I'm actually glad that other people used that nickname for him. They could see how much I admired and idolized him. Even strangers called him Pops!
(My aunt Nete was the one who started calling me by my initials, she already had a son named Tommy) Too many Tom's in our family!
Life Support?
My Dad specifically told me many times that he did NOT want to be on life support. He didn't want to give up either. Twice he was intubated and we had some great conversations after he got better the first time. He didn't think that anyone would want to be kept alive by a machine. He was thankful that he survived with the help of a machine, but he didn't want to be relying on one forever. He improved after he was intubated the first time...but the second time, he never recovered.
On the doctors recommendation, we decided that enough was enough when he couldn't go on without a machine helping him survive. Blood pressure medicine and air from being intubated were just keeping him alive. He couldn't speak, but he definitely responded...his mind was not toast.
I don't regret "pulling the plug" on my best friend...I'm responsible, I did it according to his wishes. I wish we were more informed and knew what to expect but we were shooting from the hip and praying for the best. Even near the end, I didn't think he was on "life support" I just thought we were doing everything we could to get him back home and better.
Five months after he died, I had an accident that required intubation too. I wasn't awake for five days and didn't realize that I was on "life support" as well. Even after being awake in the hospital, I had no idea what the hell was going on. I was medicated, big time! I have no idea what I did or said to the friends who were around me...gathered in my time of need.
I'm still not sure of the definition of "life support" but I wouldn't be here if it weren't for the same machines that I helped decide to stop for my father. Not the same age or situation, but I would prefer to be without a machine too.
What's your opinion?
On the doctors recommendation, we decided that enough was enough when he couldn't go on without a machine helping him survive. Blood pressure medicine and air from being intubated were just keeping him alive. He couldn't speak, but he definitely responded...his mind was not toast.
I don't regret "pulling the plug" on my best friend...I'm responsible, I did it according to his wishes. I wish we were more informed and knew what to expect but we were shooting from the hip and praying for the best. Even near the end, I didn't think he was on "life support" I just thought we were doing everything we could to get him back home and better.
Five months after he died, I had an accident that required intubation too. I wasn't awake for five days and didn't realize that I was on "life support" as well. Even after being awake in the hospital, I had no idea what the hell was going on. I was medicated, big time! I have no idea what I did or said to the friends who were around me...gathered in my time of need.
I'm still not sure of the definition of "life support" but I wouldn't be here if it weren't for the same machines that I helped decide to stop for my father. Not the same age or situation, but I would prefer to be without a machine too.
What's your opinion?
Gifted
On my 15th birthday, Dad had a great idea, he got us a ping pong table. At the time, I thought it was pretty lame. He brought it home in a box and insisted that I help put it together. We clowned around while building it and I remember it being fun, rather than a chore.
After we had it assembled, I found out that my Dad was pretty darned good at ping pong! He learned to play while he was in the Navy. His paddle had no cushion and was covered in sandpaper. If he barely tapped the ball, it shot away like a rocket. He taught me about putting spin on the ball to make it curve...basically like he had taught me about "English" on pool balls. He showed me how to stand up the other side of the table to practice and hone my skills. It took a while before I could even compete with him, but I got there.
Every night when he got home from work, he would scarf some dinner and we played ping pong until I had to go to bed. We both had a great time talking trash and spending time together. I didn't realize that our time together was actually his gift. He didn't bring his work home or the problems associated, he came home and had fun with me. That ping pong table wasn't an expensive gift but it was one of the best I ever received!
After we had it assembled, I found out that my Dad was pretty darned good at ping pong! He learned to play while he was in the Navy. His paddle had no cushion and was covered in sandpaper. If he barely tapped the ball, it shot away like a rocket. He taught me about putting spin on the ball to make it curve...basically like he had taught me about "English" on pool balls. He showed me how to stand up the other side of the table to practice and hone my skills. It took a while before I could even compete with him, but I got there.
Every night when he got home from work, he would scarf some dinner and we played ping pong until I had to go to bed. We both had a great time talking trash and spending time together. I didn't realize that our time together was actually his gift. He didn't bring his work home or the problems associated, he came home and had fun with me. That ping pong table wasn't an expensive gift but it was one of the best I ever received!
Anniversary Day, That Merits Another Good Story!
Today it's been 2 years since Dad passed away. Time has helped to heal the wound of losing him but the pain still lingers. He was my father, mentor and friend too. He's on my mind often lately so I thought I might share another story.
Dad loved to go fishing on the coast and he was an old salty dog of the sea. He had been in the Navy and I thought he naturally just knew everything about being at sea. It was 1983, I was eighteen and he decided that we needed to hit the coast because there was a hurricane coming and he thought that was when the fishing would be awesome! I had complete faith in Dad and was convinced that his fishing knowledge was the best I had ever seen. Let's go fishing!
We arrived at Port Aransas the day before hurricane Alicia was to arrive near Houston. We loaded up the gear and got the boat ready while everyone else was taking their boats OUT. That's when I realized that maybe we weren't being too dang smart. I started asking questions and Dad reassured me that he knew what he was doing.
We rode out 25 miles into the Gulf with full tanks of fuel, calm seas, fishing! We caught a few fish and then it just stopped. We weren't catching any fish so I suggested that we head back to shore and avoid the bad weather. Dad reluctantly agreed, so we started back. The wind and rough seas arrived right after we were heading back. The waves got really big in less than an hour, then it got scary.
The wind picked up after big waves arrived. We were in an eighteen foot Bayliner boat, no radio and getting hammered by eighteen foot waves. I got really seasick and couldn't do anything but hug the rail and throw up. With each swell that came, we rode over the top and dropped to the bottom of the next swell...shaking the boat fiercely. "BOOM!" After a few hours, I crawled into the cabin with a bucket, vomiting until I had the dry heaves. Dad fought the wind and waves by himself for the entire day and into the evening. I was useless.
When he finally could see land again he called me out to help him spot a place that we could get off the dang boat. No landmarks, just get the hell away from the water! We found a pier and tied up the boat and we rode out the rest of the storm with some people that took us into their home. We were lucky and Dad admitted that he didn't realize the power of a hurricane. That's when I realized that he didn't actually always have everything handled, that I wasn't always safe just being with him.
Somehow, we always survived his adventures....he certainly kept life interesting! Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Dad loved to go fishing on the coast and he was an old salty dog of the sea. He had been in the Navy and I thought he naturally just knew everything about being at sea. It was 1983, I was eighteen and he decided that we needed to hit the coast because there was a hurricane coming and he thought that was when the fishing would be awesome! I had complete faith in Dad and was convinced that his fishing knowledge was the best I had ever seen. Let's go fishing!
We arrived at Port Aransas the day before hurricane Alicia was to arrive near Houston. We loaded up the gear and got the boat ready while everyone else was taking their boats OUT. That's when I realized that maybe we weren't being too dang smart. I started asking questions and Dad reassured me that he knew what he was doing.
We rode out 25 miles into the Gulf with full tanks of fuel, calm seas, fishing! We caught a few fish and then it just stopped. We weren't catching any fish so I suggested that we head back to shore and avoid the bad weather. Dad reluctantly agreed, so we started back. The wind and rough seas arrived right after we were heading back. The waves got really big in less than an hour, then it got scary.
The wind picked up after big waves arrived. We were in an eighteen foot Bayliner boat, no radio and getting hammered by eighteen foot waves. I got really seasick and couldn't do anything but hug the rail and throw up. With each swell that came, we rode over the top and dropped to the bottom of the next swell...shaking the boat fiercely. "BOOM!" After a few hours, I crawled into the cabin with a bucket, vomiting until I had the dry heaves. Dad fought the wind and waves by himself for the entire day and into the evening. I was useless.
When he finally could see land again he called me out to help him spot a place that we could get off the dang boat. No landmarks, just get the hell away from the water! We found a pier and tied up the boat and we rode out the rest of the storm with some people that took us into their home. We were lucky and Dad admitted that he didn't realize the power of a hurricane. That's when I realized that he didn't actually always have everything handled, that I wasn't always safe just being with him.
Somehow, we always survived his adventures....he certainly kept life interesting! Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Are You Stupid??
A few years back, I was hanging some gutters and found a 1X6 about 6 feet long in Dad's workshop. I grabbed it and headed out to use it for fascia. Luckily, Dad spotted me before I used his lumber. He came rushing over on his scooter and asked what I was doing with his board...so I told him while he shook his head. I just thought it was a spare that he stored inside to keep it from warping. He asked, "Does that board seem heavier?" Yeah, it did. "Does it look straighter than most wood we have?" "I guess so." "Son, that is an oak board that's been planed, jointed and ready for a real project. It's not junk. Are you stupid or just don't know any better?"
I didn't know any better. I understand now.
I didn't know any better. I understand now.
Screwed!
After I left the Navy in 2000, Dad and uncle Skip (Bill Herring) took me to a bar in Bastrop Texas...Mary's Cantina. We got pretty lit and were playing pool all evening. Uncle Skip is a great pool player and we had control of the pool tables all night.
We were having a blast, slamming whiskey and cokes and shooting pool on everybody else's dollar. I kept ending up playing pool with one guy that had an attitude. He had been just released from prison and thought he would give me a bunch of shit. He wanted to argue about every shot and Dad decided it was stopping. So Tom threatened the guy and told him that he would "stick his hook through his guts" if he didn't leave his son alone. Amazingly, the guy just left.
Everything was going fine again and I started dancing with a gal, repeatedly. She was a cutie with short blonde hair, blue eyes and a solid figure. I wouldn't even call her chunky...just solid, healthy looking. Anyway, the bar was about to close and I asked her if she wanted to go to the river with us. She exclaimed, "Great!" and went to get her purse. So I decided to let the family know what was happening and told uncle Skip and Dad that I had a woman accompanying me to the cabin. She gathered her stuff and came ready to go! As Dad drank the last of his drink, he looked at her and said, "You're too damn fat to go to the river with MY boy!" She turned around without saying a word and stormed out.
I hate to tell you, but there wasn't a thing wrong with that gal....Dad just screwed me! We laughed about it for years, but he sure saw to it that I didn't have a gal that night! Fucker.
We were having a blast, slamming whiskey and cokes and shooting pool on everybody else's dollar. I kept ending up playing pool with one guy that had an attitude. He had been just released from prison and thought he would give me a bunch of shit. He wanted to argue about every shot and Dad decided it was stopping. So Tom threatened the guy and told him that he would "stick his hook through his guts" if he didn't leave his son alone. Amazingly, the guy just left.
Everything was going fine again and I started dancing with a gal, repeatedly. She was a cutie with short blonde hair, blue eyes and a solid figure. I wouldn't even call her chunky...just solid, healthy looking. Anyway, the bar was about to close and I asked her if she wanted to go to the river with us. She exclaimed, "Great!" and went to get her purse. So I decided to let the family know what was happening and told uncle Skip and Dad that I had a woman accompanying me to the cabin. She gathered her stuff and came ready to go! As Dad drank the last of his drink, he looked at her and said, "You're too damn fat to go to the river with MY boy!" She turned around without saying a word and stormed out.
I hate to tell you, but there wasn't a thing wrong with that gal....Dad just screwed me! We laughed about it for years, but he sure saw to it that I didn't have a gal that night! Fucker.
Still Going...
A year and a half after Dad died, I still get overly emotional and cry because he's gone. I never understood the power of grief over a person's mind or how long it could envelope your thoughts. I am simply amazed that it still can render me useless at times. I cannot function properly when it takes hold of my brain.
Lately, I've had dreams about him zipping around the yard on his scooter, overseeing all the progress we've made improving his place. I don't picture him using his oxygen bottle, just his beaming smile as he would appreciate tending the garden. I miss having him tell me, "Son, I need some help..." because I would always drop what I was doing just so he could accomplish whatever he wanted to do. We were a team.
I know that some of my friends think that I should just "get over it" but they don't understand that I can't. In his last ten years, my Dad and I became best buddies. During those ten years, we formed a bond more like brothers than father and son. We respected each other and genuinely enjoyed being around each other all the time. If I went to do a job somewhere, he called daily to see how it was going and asking when I would be home. He missed me too.
In secret, I wanted to die before my parents. I knew the grief would be horrific...and it is so far. I created this blog to reflect back on times shared with him. I share this so others can understand why I loved him so much. Dad was wonderful to me and especially so in his last years. I miss you Pop!
Lately, I've had dreams about him zipping around the yard on his scooter, overseeing all the progress we've made improving his place. I don't picture him using his oxygen bottle, just his beaming smile as he would appreciate tending the garden. I miss having him tell me, "Son, I need some help..." because I would always drop what I was doing just so he could accomplish whatever he wanted to do. We were a team.
I know that some of my friends think that I should just "get over it" but they don't understand that I can't. In his last ten years, my Dad and I became best buddies. During those ten years, we formed a bond more like brothers than father and son. We respected each other and genuinely enjoyed being around each other all the time. If I went to do a job somewhere, he called daily to see how it was going and asking when I would be home. He missed me too.
In secret, I wanted to die before my parents. I knew the grief would be horrific...and it is so far. I created this blog to reflect back on times shared with him. I share this so others can understand why I loved him so much. Dad was wonderful to me and especially so in his last years. I miss you Pop!
Father-Son Motocross Race
In 1980, I joined the NMA and started my campaign to be a motocross champion. The NMA at the time was a chance for amateurs to compete on a regional and national level. We traveled all over Texas to qualify for the national race in Ponca City Oklahoma. I can't remember how many races we attended but the last one was in Conroe Texas.
At the last race of the season, I won both stock and modified in my division for the Texas-Louisiana region. After the races had finished up, they had a father and son event planned. The race was four laps beginning with the sons. After completing each lap, the fathers and sons would "relay", or swap out riders onto the same bike.
Dad and I had a dilemma because he only had one arm. On a bike that Dad rode, we would swap out the front brake and clutch cable so that he could use the clutch with his right hand. We set up a bike so he could participate but I wasn't able to ride well with the clutch on the "wrong" side. NMA officials decided that we could ride separate bikes, and I would just have to tag him for his lap to begin. We were going to get to participate!
The race started and I was in 3rd place at the end of lap one. We tagged and Dad took off like a bat out of hell. He rode exceptionally well and passed the other two fathers. before the end of lap two, we were in 1st place. He tagged me and I sprinted around and extended our lead to about 5 seconds. We tagged again and Dad was off again, riding his heart out! Near the beginning of his last lap, Dad was going too fast and blasted right through a big berm, going off the track and into deep sand. While he struggled to navigate back onto the track he was passed by another father. He rode like hell to catch up and pass the guy back. Dad passed him just after the finish line and he thought we had won.
It was the only time my Dad ever raced motocross and he put in a valiant effort! It was the most fun race I had in my life. I'll never forget it. We got second but it wasn't from his lack of effort. He had a blast and we got to compete together as a team. I couldn't have been more proud of my Pop!
At the last race of the season, I won both stock and modified in my division for the Texas-Louisiana region. After the races had finished up, they had a father and son event planned. The race was four laps beginning with the sons. After completing each lap, the fathers and sons would "relay", or swap out riders onto the same bike.
Dad and I had a dilemma because he only had one arm. On a bike that Dad rode, we would swap out the front brake and clutch cable so that he could use the clutch with his right hand. We set up a bike so he could participate but I wasn't able to ride well with the clutch on the "wrong" side. NMA officials decided that we could ride separate bikes, and I would just have to tag him for his lap to begin. We were going to get to participate!
The race started and I was in 3rd place at the end of lap one. We tagged and Dad took off like a bat out of hell. He rode exceptionally well and passed the other two fathers. before the end of lap two, we were in 1st place. He tagged me and I sprinted around and extended our lead to about 5 seconds. We tagged again and Dad was off again, riding his heart out! Near the beginning of his last lap, Dad was going too fast and blasted right through a big berm, going off the track and into deep sand. While he struggled to navigate back onto the track he was passed by another father. He rode like hell to catch up and pass the guy back. Dad passed him just after the finish line and he thought we had won.
It was the only time my Dad ever raced motocross and he put in a valiant effort! It was the most fun race I had in my life. I'll never forget it. We got second but it wasn't from his lack of effort. He had a blast and we got to compete together as a team. I couldn't have been more proud of my Pop!
Unfair!
It simply doesn't feel like Father's Day without Pop around. I mention him in my daily conversations because I think about him constantly. I created this blog to share some of his stories and also so I could reflect back about our time together. I had the privilege of spending his last ten years with him nearly all the time.
It's unfair that I lost him to illness but I'll never forget him and hope to someday be as wonderful a person as he was.
Even if you never met Tom, I'm sure you will enjoy reading about him. He was such an interesting character with vigor, determination and a heck of a great sense of humor. If you have time, read about his life...it's worth the time!
It's unfair that I lost him to illness but I'll never forget him and hope to someday be as wonderful a person as he was.
Even if you never met Tom, I'm sure you will enjoy reading about him. He was such an interesting character with vigor, determination and a heck of a great sense of humor. If you have time, read about his life...it's worth the time!
Just Another Day
Today is Friday. It's October 25th 2013. The start of another typical weekend for most of us. Just another day...
For me, it's a big deal. Dad was born on October 25, 1933. Today he would have been 80 years old. I understand that it's only a date and it doesn't affect hardly anyone. However, I feel a sense of loss that doesn't ease with time. It's been nine months and one week since he passed away, yet I still think about him every day. I try not to bring up the subject during conversations but memories of Dad are constantly on my mind.
For me, it's a big deal. Dad was born on October 25, 1933. Today he would have been 80 years old. I understand that it's only a date and it doesn't affect hardly anyone. However, I feel a sense of loss that doesn't ease with time. It's been nine months and one week since he passed away, yet I still think about him every day. I try not to bring up the subject during conversations but memories of Dad are constantly on my mind.
I'm tired of your ass!
Darwin "Dum-Dum" Matthews was a good friend of my Dad's. Back in the day, guys would borrow shotguns and shells from each other at the trap shoots. Dad was at a trap shoot and was also using a borrowed gun, trying it out because he was considering purchasing it. Everyone kept shells in their vests and Darwin had a few that he had specially loaded for a prank. Dad was shooting in the finale and ran out of shells and asked Darwin for a couple of shells. Darwin reached for a few that he had loaded with nothing but black powder. As he handed Dad the shells, he slowly backed away. "PULL!" Dad took aim and shot. Nothing but a big cloud of black smoke. Everyone cracked up because Dad was just snookered by Dum-Dum! Dad was stuck with cleaning a borrowed gun because Dum-Dum had pranked him...and he swore his revenge.
A couple of weeks later, Dad and I had been loading shells in the basement, getting ready for another big event. He had a shotgun sitting on the table with another special load. We heard a knock on the back door and Darwin came in still chuckling about his prank on Dad. He came down the steps into the basement and just as he got into the basement, Dad shouted, "I'm tired of your ass joking around!" grabbed the shotgun, pointed it right at him and fired! He blasted him with confetti as Darwin shuddered.
I had long forgotten this story until I saw Dum-Dum recently and he re-told the story while reminiscing about Dad. We had a big chuckle about it and I'm grateful to be reminded about Dad's sense of humor. Good times and good pranks!
A couple of weeks later, Dad and I had been loading shells in the basement, getting ready for another big event. He had a shotgun sitting on the table with another special load. We heard a knock on the back door and Darwin came in still chuckling about his prank on Dad. He came down the steps into the basement and just as he got into the basement, Dad shouted, "I'm tired of your ass joking around!" grabbed the shotgun, pointed it right at him and fired! He blasted him with confetti as Darwin shuddered.
I had long forgotten this story until I saw Dum-Dum recently and he re-told the story while reminiscing about Dad. We had a big chuckle about it and I'm grateful to be reminded about Dad's sense of humor. Good times and good pranks!
October 25 1933 - January 17 2013
Tom passed away at 1:16 pm this afternoon. He left us with Mom, Becky and I at his side. The grief I feel will pass in time, but for now, it's heartbreaking.
My father was a very special person who was loved by so many people. Even in illness, his courage to fight on was truly legendary. He fought a drug resistant infection for a month and a half only thinking of being able to take care of our family. Although his heart stopped several times last month, he fought through it.
I still plan to add more stories about my time with him. There are so many to tell. I was fortunate to get the opportunity to spend a lot of time with him. He took great care of me and I took the best care of him I possibly could. He will live in my heart and mind forever.
Peace to you and your families...my father lies at peace and rest.
My father was a very special person who was loved by so many people. Even in illness, his courage to fight on was truly legendary. He fought a drug resistant infection for a month and a half only thinking of being able to take care of our family. Although his heart stopped several times last month, he fought through it.
I still plan to add more stories about my time with him. There are so many to tell. I was fortunate to get the opportunity to spend a lot of time with him. He took great care of me and I took the best care of him I possibly could. He will live in my heart and mind forever.
Peace to you and your families...my father lies at peace and rest.
The News
This morning I arrived at the hospital hoping for some good news regarding Dad's condition. We've been hoping and praying for a miracle that hasn't arrived. Upon arrival, his infectious disease doctor stepped in to speak with me."I need to be blunt with you. His infections are only getting worse and his wounds will not heal. He's severely swollen due to fluid buildup and his kidney functions have worsened and the situation is hopeless."
It felt like someone hit me in the chest with a sledgehammer. I choked back tears and said "I understand." Right after I spoke the words Dad, opened his eyes and shook his head trying to focus. The doctor asked if he recognized me and he just stared at me. She told him to blink if he recognized me. He blinked twice slowly and deliberately. The doctor said she would give me some time with him and quickly exited the room.
I talked to him about the situation and he kept his eyes on me the entire time. I explained that I can't stand to see him suffer much more as I kissed him on his forehead. By this time, the tears were flowing heavily. Dad's eyes also welled up with tears. He closed his eyes again as he faded back to sleep.
I immediately came home from the hospital and had to have the talk with Becky and Mom. It's a difficult decision to let anyone go. We all can't bear to see him keep suffering. Tears have flowed and we are preparing for his death. A nurse told me that they could remove the ventilator and stop the propofol so that we could speak to him and he will be able to focus. We're about to go and say our final goodbyes.
We went to tell him goodbye and Dad had told the doctor to keep him alive as long as possible. His struggle continues....
It felt like someone hit me in the chest with a sledgehammer. I choked back tears and said "I understand." Right after I spoke the words Dad, opened his eyes and shook his head trying to focus. The doctor asked if he recognized me and he just stared at me. She told him to blink if he recognized me. He blinked twice slowly and deliberately. The doctor said she would give me some time with him and quickly exited the room.
I talked to him about the situation and he kept his eyes on me the entire time. I explained that I can't stand to see him suffer much more as I kissed him on his forehead. By this time, the tears were flowing heavily. Dad's eyes also welled up with tears. He closed his eyes again as he faded back to sleep.
I immediately came home from the hospital and had to have the talk with Becky and Mom. It's a difficult decision to let anyone go. We all can't bear to see him keep suffering. Tears have flowed and we are preparing for his death. A nurse told me that they could remove the ventilator and stop the propofol so that we could speak to him and he will be able to focus. We're about to go and say our final goodbyes.
We went to tell him goodbye and Dad had told the doctor to keep him alive as long as possible. His struggle continues....
New Strategy
Dad still has a severe lung infection/pneumonia. Speaking to the doctor today, he told me that they are going to try a different antibiotic because the strain that he has is antibiotic resistant. So they are going to load him up on steroids again and hit him with a rarely used antibiotic. Doctor Sharpless sounds optimistic about it. It will still take a couple more weeks but Dad should be able to get over this.
Dad was also talking about checking out of the hospital and just coming home and trying to fight it on his own. The doc told me that he would definitely die if he does that. Dad quickly revised his idea for an extended stay at the hospital.They may move him to another smaller hospital around the corner but he will still be under the same doctor's care.
Dad was also talking about checking out of the hospital and just coming home and trying to fight it on his own. The doc told me that he would definitely die if he does that. Dad quickly revised his idea for an extended stay at the hospital.They may move him to another smaller hospital around the corner but he will still be under the same doctor's care.
Hospital Care
When Dad decided to go to the hospital we were getting desperate. His primary doctor at the VA had been on vacation for nearly a month and he has had pneumonia for nearly two months. He decided to go to the Conroe hospital because he likes the same doctor that cared for his mother. Dr. Gary Sharpless, who was a part of Sadler Clinic which went out of business because they would double charge and even triple charge for the same treatments.
Dad checked in and improved for a week. Dr. Sharpless changed all his medications and now he's on a downward spiral. I'm not sure if there is just nothing that can be done or if they're running up a bill. At this point I'm getting angry because I'm not sure what to do..stick with these people that Dad trusts or move him back to the VA. My heart is telling me to get him out of there.
I just want to hang on to Dad as long as possible. I want to enjoy his company again for Christmas.
Dad checked in and improved for a week. Dr. Sharpless changed all his medications and now he's on a downward spiral. I'm not sure if there is just nothing that can be done or if they're running up a bill. At this point I'm getting angry because I'm not sure what to do..stick with these people that Dad trusts or move him back to the VA. My heart is telling me to get him out of there.
I just want to hang on to Dad as long as possible. I want to enjoy his company again for Christmas.
Fluffy
Back in the 80's, Dad was working for a lady who wanted to get rid of two Lhasa Apso dogs. One was named Tippy and the other was Fluffy. Tippy was a scared little dog and she came to live with my family. Dad brought home Fluffy to his house.
Fluffy wasn't a typical Lhasa Apso....she was shaved. Fluffy was not fluffy at all! She was also apparently pissed off about it. Fluffy growled and tried to bite everyone. Dad attempted to make friends with her but she would lunge and attack at every chance. Luckily for Dad, he could just put his prosthetic arm out and the dog would attack it. Dad worked for a couple of weeks trying being kind to Fluffy to no avail. She would attack at every opportunity. That dog would chew his metal hook until her mouth was bloody.
Crystal was just a little kid and she wanted to be able to pet and hold that dog. Fluffy wasn't having anything to do with anyone unless she could bite them. Fluffy met her maker one day after chewing on Dad's hook until she was a bloody mess while Crystal was at school. Dad finally shot the dog, disposed of the body and opened the gate to make it appear that Fluffy had escaped.
Fluffy wasn't a typical Lhasa Apso....she was shaved. Fluffy was not fluffy at all! She was also apparently pissed off about it. Fluffy growled and tried to bite everyone. Dad attempted to make friends with her but she would lunge and attack at every chance. Luckily for Dad, he could just put his prosthetic arm out and the dog would attack it. Dad worked for a couple of weeks trying being kind to Fluffy to no avail. She would attack at every opportunity. That dog would chew his metal hook until her mouth was bloody.
Crystal was just a little kid and she wanted to be able to pet and hold that dog. Fluffy wasn't having anything to do with anyone unless she could bite them. Fluffy met her maker one day after chewing on Dad's hook until she was a bloody mess while Crystal was at school. Dad finally shot the dog, disposed of the body and opened the gate to make it appear that Fluffy had escaped.
Opening Season
Dad has been excited about deer hunting season for a couple of months. It's opening weekend here in Texas and Dad has just returned home from another hospital trip. This morning when I first went to check on him, he was fighting for air again. He asked me to make him breakfast, a bacon and egg sandwich. So I got busy in the kitchen and in a few minutes returned to tell him that his breakfast was ready. He needed help to walk to the kitchen. (about 50 feet) He was shaky and unsure of his footing, clinging to my arm like a toddler learning to walk. When we made it to the table he immediately grabbed his nebulizer. At that point, I realized that Dad's hunting days are probably over.
The last few years it's been great to be able to make his yearly hunting trips happen. He loves waking up before daylight, patiently watching and waiting to spot a big buck. He gets a big kick out of the little yearlings playing on the hillside right outside the window of the cabin. The cabin has one obstacle that always causes him problems, a spiral staircase. I'm unable to help him up and down those stairs because they are steep and so close together. It's a shame that his motor skills are beginning to fail him. If he could climb those stairs, I think we would be hunting right now.
I can't imagine struggling every day to make it to the next with nothing to look forward to doing. Aging is a cruel reality that cannot be escaped. I've enjoyed these years spending time with Dad, helping and caring for him. I haven't given up on him and I try daily to make things easier for him. He still enjoys challenging himself to do as much as he's capable of doing. Although he struggles sometimes, he always knows he can depend on me to help if he isn't able to accomplish a task.
Watching your hero slowly succumb to health issues is the most intense challenge I've ever faced. I refuse to sit idly by and simply let it happen. We're in this fight together and Dad is no quitter. My respect, admiration and love for that old man is immeasurable. Those who don't understand why I would dedicate the last 10 years to his care just don't my family ties. It's made me a better person to learn my fathers approach toward others and how to look at the good in everyone. I'm thankful that I've had the opportunity to get to know Tom Tinner the way his friends see him. I sure hope he improves and is able to go hunting again this year. Good times!
The last few years it's been great to be able to make his yearly hunting trips happen. He loves waking up before daylight, patiently watching and waiting to spot a big buck. He gets a big kick out of the little yearlings playing on the hillside right outside the window of the cabin. The cabin has one obstacle that always causes him problems, a spiral staircase. I'm unable to help him up and down those stairs because they are steep and so close together. It's a shame that his motor skills are beginning to fail him. If he could climb those stairs, I think we would be hunting right now.
I can't imagine struggling every day to make it to the next with nothing to look forward to doing. Aging is a cruel reality that cannot be escaped. I've enjoyed these years spending time with Dad, helping and caring for him. I haven't given up on him and I try daily to make things easier for him. He still enjoys challenging himself to do as much as he's capable of doing. Although he struggles sometimes, he always knows he can depend on me to help if he isn't able to accomplish a task.
Watching your hero slowly succumb to health issues is the most intense challenge I've ever faced. I refuse to sit idly by and simply let it happen. We're in this fight together and Dad is no quitter. My respect, admiration and love for that old man is immeasurable. Those who don't understand why I would dedicate the last 10 years to his care just don't my family ties. It's made me a better person to learn my fathers approach toward others and how to look at the good in everyone. I'm thankful that I've had the opportunity to get to know Tom Tinner the way his friends see him. I sure hope he improves and is able to go hunting again this year. Good times!
79 Years Old Today!
Tom has had a nasty cough throughout my entire life. He worked in a plant that produced DDT when he was a young man, that's where he says he developed his trademark cough. When I was just a kid, he would cough so hard that his face would turn red and he would nearly pass out. I didn't think he would ever make it to 60.
Today at 79, his mobility isn't all that great but he still gets around. He diligently works in the garden daily. He rarely sleeps more than a couple of hours and he drinks more scotch than he should. Each morning he gets up and drinks a pot of coffee, has breakfast and gets busy. He zips around the yard on his scooter watering and tending to his plants all day long. His sight and hearing have mostly failed him and he runs out of breath quickly. He's had a few minor strokes, heart surgery and replaced a couple of arteries yet his mind is still sharp. Through all of his hardships, he still wears a smile most of the time.
It's difficult to paint the portrait of his care and generosity toward everyone else unless you know him. He's been my role model for life. He taught me how to run a business, great work ethic and to live up to your word. I'm fortunate that he's my father. He forgave my faults and guided me even when I didn't live up to his expectations. He's moved beyond being my parent and became a true friend. I speak so fondly of him because he earned my respect and admiration. I wish everyone knew him as well as I....You're missing out on a wonderful person that fills my heart with happiness.
I kinda like that old geezer!
Today at 79, his mobility isn't all that great but he still gets around. He diligently works in the garden daily. He rarely sleeps more than a couple of hours and he drinks more scotch than he should. Each morning he gets up and drinks a pot of coffee, has breakfast and gets busy. He zips around the yard on his scooter watering and tending to his plants all day long. His sight and hearing have mostly failed him and he runs out of breath quickly. He's had a few minor strokes, heart surgery and replaced a couple of arteries yet his mind is still sharp. Through all of his hardships, he still wears a smile most of the time.
It's difficult to paint the portrait of his care and generosity toward everyone else unless you know him. He's been my role model for life. He taught me how to run a business, great work ethic and to live up to your word. I'm fortunate that he's my father. He forgave my faults and guided me even when I didn't live up to his expectations. He's moved beyond being my parent and became a true friend. I speak so fondly of him because he earned my respect and admiration. I wish everyone knew him as well as I....You're missing out on a wonderful person that fills my heart with happiness.
I kinda like that old geezer!
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Great Shot!
Dad was reminiscing about previous hunting trips while we were at the cabin the other day. He told me a story about hunting with two of his cousins and the results of that trip.
Wilburn Kirkland and Jack Kirkland were notorious for gambling against each other about miscellaneous things. While they were hunting together they spotted a big buck that was a very long distance from them. (Dad guesses about 500 yards) Jack bet Wilburn that he couldn't get the deer. Wilburn said, "Oh I can get him for sure!" Jack told him that he would clean the deer and process it if Wilburn could make the kill. Wilburn accepted. He lined up his shot and squeezed off a round. Just as he shot, the deer turned to walk away from him. By the time the bullet got there, it hit the buck right in the butt! The buck went down and Wilburn had made the kill. True to his word, Jack cleaned the deer and took it home for processing.
Months go by and Wilburn received a gift from Jack. He had the butt of that buck mounted with the bullet hole in the butt intact. Wilburn still has it hanging on his wall despite his wife Betty's objections.
Wilburn Kirkland and Jack Kirkland were notorious for gambling against each other about miscellaneous things. While they were hunting together they spotted a big buck that was a very long distance from them. (Dad guesses about 500 yards) Jack bet Wilburn that he couldn't get the deer. Wilburn said, "Oh I can get him for sure!" Jack told him that he would clean the deer and process it if Wilburn could make the kill. Wilburn accepted. He lined up his shot and squeezed off a round. Just as he shot, the deer turned to walk away from him. By the time the bullet got there, it hit the buck right in the butt! The buck went down and Wilburn had made the kill. True to his word, Jack cleaned the deer and took it home for processing.
Months go by and Wilburn received a gift from Jack. He had the butt of that buck mounted with the bullet hole in the butt intact. Wilburn still has it hanging on his wall despite his wife Betty's objections.
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Reunion Benefits
This year the Kirkland family reunion was beneficial for Dad. I think he's realizing that he has got to do more for himself and quit relying on everyone else all the time to do every little thing for him. He saw that his brother Richard is doing way better because he's making the effort to do more things for himself.
Dad had a couple of rough nights up there but for the most part, I saw improvement from him. He didn't sit on his ass and wait for someone to make his plate during meals. He obviously enjoyed playing cards with the guys too.
This morning he got up acting very chipper and excited. If he plans to go hunting this winter, he's going to need to improve his dexterity and get some exercise. He hasn't been able to do much in the hundred degree weather but now that it's beginning to cool off, maybe I can get him interested in doing some things to get him active again.
Dad had a couple of rough nights up there but for the most part, I saw improvement from him. He didn't sit on his ass and wait for someone to make his plate during meals. He obviously enjoyed playing cards with the guys too.
This morning he got up acting very chipper and excited. If he plans to go hunting this winter, he's going to need to improve his dexterity and get some exercise. He hasn't been able to do much in the hundred degree weather but now that it's beginning to cool off, maybe I can get him interested in doing some things to get him active again.
The Answers
Today I'm wondering what's next? The adventure of taking care of an elderly person grows daily. I don't have formal training or anything, I'm doing it by the seat of my pants, with lots of help from my sister and mother.
Last night Dad got dizzy and fell in the bathroom. He cut his hand, wrist and bicep apparently on the corner of the cabinet. He passed out and nobody knew it happened for a while. He wasn't drunk, he hasn't changed medications yet so I don't know what the hell happened.
The doctor sent him new medications yesterday but he hasn't switched yet. At this point, he has so many different inhalers and meds that I don't know exactly what he is supposed to stop taking to begin his regimen of new stuff. I won't be able to contact his doctor until Monday.
Whenever there's an emergency, they all run to me..like I'm an authority or something. Guess what..I don't have all the answers either! I may seem calm but I'm freaking out too. I get angry in frustration when he gets hurt and Dad always thinks I'm mad at him. During a crisis, I do get angry..that's how I get focused immediately. I'm angry at the situation, not the people involved.
Last night Dad got dizzy and fell in the bathroom. He cut his hand, wrist and bicep apparently on the corner of the cabinet. He passed out and nobody knew it happened for a while. He wasn't drunk, he hasn't changed medications yet so I don't know what the hell happened.
The doctor sent him new medications yesterday but he hasn't switched yet. At this point, he has so many different inhalers and meds that I don't know exactly what he is supposed to stop taking to begin his regimen of new stuff. I won't be able to contact his doctor until Monday.
Whenever there's an emergency, they all run to me..like I'm an authority or something. Guess what..I don't have all the answers either! I may seem calm but I'm freaking out too. I get angry in frustration when he gets hurt and Dad always thinks I'm mad at him. During a crisis, I do get angry..that's how I get focused immediately. I'm angry at the situation, not the people involved.
Wear a Brain Bucket!
In the late 1970's my Dad worked hard and we played hard too. He had a rail dune buggy that had won the Baja 1000 race. We had multiple motorcycles and he had some 3 wheeled vehicles that had 70 HP Kohler motors on them. We went riding/driving every weekend.
The 3 wheelers weren't really made for off road use. I've never seen anything like them before or since but they were very fast! They had a bucket seat and you sat in front of the big motor. On pavement, if you didn't spin the tires, they would easily beat our motorcycles. Dad loved those vehicles!
We were out at Miller Springs (just below the Belton Dam) and Dad was on his 3 wheeler and I was following him around on my motorcycle. He decided to take off at a high rate of speed and go flying across a wide open area. The grass was tall so you couldn't see obstacles that you came upon until it was too late. We had been punishing his 3 wheeler climbing hills and riding over rocky areas. So we're zooming across this prairie at about 50 mph and I'm right on his tail. Suddenly I can only see a dust cloud in front of me and nail the brakes. The wind carries away some of the dust and I see Dad is upside down still strapped into the 3 wheeler. I ran over to help him and find that he's OK. I got him unstrapped and he climbed out from under the beast, his helmet was scratched almost all the way through. I asked what happened and he had no idea, there was nothing around that he could have hit to make him wreck. Upon further inspection, the 3 wheeler frame had broken and it had fell and planted into the ground catapulting him upside down and sliding through dirt and gravel. If he had not been wearing a helmet..it would have scratched the top of his head completely off.
After seeing that crash, I never even drove the dune buggy without a helmet. It pays to wear safety equipment! More riding/racing stories to come...
The 3 wheelers weren't really made for off road use. I've never seen anything like them before or since but they were very fast! They had a bucket seat and you sat in front of the big motor. On pavement, if you didn't spin the tires, they would easily beat our motorcycles. Dad loved those vehicles!
We were out at Miller Springs (just below the Belton Dam) and Dad was on his 3 wheeler and I was following him around on my motorcycle. He decided to take off at a high rate of speed and go flying across a wide open area. The grass was tall so you couldn't see obstacles that you came upon until it was too late. We had been punishing his 3 wheeler climbing hills and riding over rocky areas. So we're zooming across this prairie at about 50 mph and I'm right on his tail. Suddenly I can only see a dust cloud in front of me and nail the brakes. The wind carries away some of the dust and I see Dad is upside down still strapped into the 3 wheeler. I ran over to help him and find that he's OK. I got him unstrapped and he climbed out from under the beast, his helmet was scratched almost all the way through. I asked what happened and he had no idea, there was nothing around that he could have hit to make him wreck. Upon further inspection, the 3 wheeler frame had broken and it had fell and planted into the ground catapulting him upside down and sliding through dirt and gravel. If he had not been wearing a helmet..it would have scratched the top of his head completely off.
After seeing that crash, I never even drove the dune buggy without a helmet. It pays to wear safety equipment! More riding/racing stories to come...
Tough Times
Most know that Dad hasn't been doing very well for quite some time now. He has avoided making a will and getting his affairs in order like the plague. This week he decided it's time...I'm hoping that his sudden sense of urgency on this isn't a sign that he's ready to give up. Hopefully, he just finally decided that it would be smarter to have that stuff ready in case something goes awry.
He's been down in the dumps lately because the heat has prevented him from doing much outside. He hates being cooped up! I'm sure that his next project is going to be to see how many people he can get to go to the family reunion in September. Several years have passed since he truly believed that it would be his last reunion. He just keeps hanging in there! The joy that he gets from attending that event and hunting season is his driving force.
I'm lucky to still have both parents and thankful for that. It's been gratifying to see our family pull together to protect and help each other. I plan to post more of the fun stories including Mom and Becky. Check back because I'm trying not to inundate my friends with all my blog posts.
He's been down in the dumps lately because the heat has prevented him from doing much outside. He hates being cooped up! I'm sure that his next project is going to be to see how many people he can get to go to the family reunion in September. Several years have passed since he truly believed that it would be his last reunion. He just keeps hanging in there! The joy that he gets from attending that event and hunting season is his driving force.
I'm lucky to still have both parents and thankful for that. It's been gratifying to see our family pull together to protect and help each other. I plan to post more of the fun stories including Mom and Becky. Check back because I'm trying not to inundate my friends with all my blog posts.
Flyfishing
In December of 1978, Tom's friends took him flyfishing on the Colorado River down by Lampasas Texas. He had a good time but he came home and planned with me for a week of how we could do it better. He bought an automatic reel that would retract the line when there wasn't tension on the line. We worked hard to figure out ways for him to be as effective as the other guys with both hands.
The following weekend we were ready and went back. The white bass were starting their trip up the river to spawn and he planned to catch as many as possible. They do this in December and January of each year. After dark, we went wading into the river and looked into the water with a flashlight, the riverbed was literally covered with white bass.
The next day we hit the river with waders and fly rods. Dad and I had rigged up a way to use two flys at a time on leaders. Every time we would cast we caught at least one bass. If you waited for a few seconds after the first hit, we were bringing in two at a time. We had stringers tied to our waist and every couple of hours we would have to go back to shore to empty the stringers.
At the time Dad was driving a big dually pickup. At the end of two days fishing we had the back of the pickup level full with fish and ice. One of Dad's friend's that was with us owned the Hunan Restaurant in Temple. We went back to Temple and his cooks cleaned fish all night long. His freezer was well stocked with fish from just two weekends of fishing. I've never seen anyone catch that many fish before or since. One of a kind fishing trip! If I hadn't been there, I would have never believed it. Just ask him, he loves to talk about it!
The following weekend we were ready and went back. The white bass were starting their trip up the river to spawn and he planned to catch as many as possible. They do this in December and January of each year. After dark, we went wading into the river and looked into the water with a flashlight, the riverbed was literally covered with white bass.
The next day we hit the river with waders and fly rods. Dad and I had rigged up a way to use two flys at a time on leaders. Every time we would cast we caught at least one bass. If you waited for a few seconds after the first hit, we were bringing in two at a time. We had stringers tied to our waist and every couple of hours we would have to go back to shore to empty the stringers.
At the time Dad was driving a big dually pickup. At the end of two days fishing we had the back of the pickup level full with fish and ice. One of Dad's friend's that was with us owned the Hunan Restaurant in Temple. We went back to Temple and his cooks cleaned fish all night long. His freezer was well stocked with fish from just two weekends of fishing. I've never seen anyone catch that many fish before or since. One of a kind fishing trip! If I hadn't been there, I would have never believed it. Just ask him, he loves to talk about it!
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