Sunday 3 June 2018 Pensacola 1.0
Can't help but be hopeful for the US-NKorea summit even if NK has proved deceitful, tricky, treacherous in the past. Talking is better than killing, delaying than bombing as, instead of dying, another generation gets to go on with life: who has seen pictures of North Korean children knows they are as innocent and lovable as American children.
Sunday morning's eastern sky is brightening outside our Hampton Inn window that looks out beyond Pensacola International Airport. We've not yet been to the hospital, Kristen overnighted with her mother and knows we'll be there between eight and nine o'clock. Looks to be a reasonable day, humid with maybe half a chance of some rain. We hope, without having seen the doctors, that Malinda may be moved to a regular floor today.
Friends and loved ones keep reminding us to look after ourselves not only so that we cope with this family crisis without destroying our own health, but also because a worn-out body and soul are of no use to those who need us; and so we are mindfully doing. Supper last evening with Walt and Judy, relax and enjoyed beyond words. I would love to have my brother living close, no longer so far away, I almost sob when I see him! and all the more so these days, seeing him happy.
Still on line with taking care of ourselves, all being positive with Malinda, we mean to drive to PC tomorrow, a carefully quick trip over and back. As mentioned here once, "ICU Psychosis" sets in even for loved ones when in crisis mode and mood for days, weeks on end, we simply move back and forth between sixteen hours in hospital, eight hours in motel, and unpredictable days of the same to come.
Along a corridor of Sacred Heart Hospital is a gallery, pictures of "old Pensacola," including many places I knew as a boy and remember.
The Blount Building at Palafox and Garden, isn't that where I went to the orthodontist, rode over by bus Saturday mornings when I was fourteen and fifteen, maybe sixteen, stopped in the Chrysler Plymouth, Ford, DeSoto Plymouth dealerships and sometimes over to Pensacola Buggy Works that was the Chevrolet dealership as I walked from the bus station that is now our diocesan headquarters to see Dr. Bell, then sometimes went home to 1317 E. Strong Street for dinner with my grandparents, or they came and took me to Laritz Cafeteria (later Morrison's) before I caught the bus home. Or walk a couple blocks down Palafox to 10 East Intendencia to my grandfather's pawnshop where I knew I was loved.
And a picture from all the way downtown to the waterfront, of E E Saunders & Company, for whom my other grandfather was a manager for a while and my father at Pensacola High School where he met my mother, stealing the girlfriend of an earlier boy named Tom.
Mom & Pop and family lived here a while before returning to St Andrews, what, about 1928? Gina knows.
Sunday. Let us bless the Lord.
Thanks be to God.
Go in peace.
T
Sunday morning's eastern sky is brightening outside our Hampton Inn window that looks out beyond Pensacola International Airport. We've not yet been to the hospital, Kristen overnighted with her mother and knows we'll be there between eight and nine o'clock. Looks to be a reasonable day, humid with maybe half a chance of some rain. We hope, without having seen the doctors, that Malinda may be moved to a regular floor today.
Friends and loved ones keep reminding us to look after ourselves not only so that we cope with this family crisis without destroying our own health, but also because a worn-out body and soul are of no use to those who need us; and so we are mindfully doing. Supper last evening with Walt and Judy, relax and enjoyed beyond words. I would love to have my brother living close, no longer so far away, I almost sob when I see him! and all the more so these days, seeing him happy.
Still on line with taking care of ourselves, all being positive with Malinda, we mean to drive to PC tomorrow, a carefully quick trip over and back. As mentioned here once, "ICU Psychosis" sets in even for loved ones when in crisis mode and mood for days, weeks on end, we simply move back and forth between sixteen hours in hospital, eight hours in motel, and unpredictable days of the same to come.
Along a corridor of Sacred Heart Hospital is a gallery, pictures of "old Pensacola," including many places I knew as a boy and remember.
The Blount Building at Palafox and Garden, isn't that where I went to the orthodontist, rode over by bus Saturday mornings when I was fourteen and fifteen, maybe sixteen, stopped in the Chrysler Plymouth, Ford, DeSoto Plymouth dealerships and sometimes over to Pensacola Buggy Works that was the Chevrolet dealership as I walked from the bus station that is now our diocesan headquarters to see Dr. Bell, then sometimes went home to 1317 E. Strong Street for dinner with my grandparents, or they came and took me to Laritz Cafeteria (later Morrison's) before I caught the bus home. Or walk a couple blocks down Palafox to 10 East Intendencia to my grandfather's pawnshop where I knew I was loved.
And a picture from all the way downtown to the waterfront, of E E Saunders & Company, for whom my other grandfather was a manager for a while and my father at Pensacola High School where he met my mother, stealing the girlfriend of an earlier boy named Tom.
Mom & Pop and family lived here a while before returning to St Andrews, what, about 1928? Gina knows.
Sunday. Let us bless the Lord.
Thanks be to God.
Go in peace.
T