Christmas in the Trenches

As I talked with the customer service representative from ATT, she innocently asked, "And how was your Christmas?" A rush of thoughts flooded my mind. My son is states away and I didn't get to see him this Christmas, but I know I will see him soon.

Yet Christmas 2008 will always be known as the year we lost Janet.

My brother Brian's wife, Janet has been a joy to know and inspiration to me (though I know she hated being called an inspiration). Just several weeks ago Brian, Janet and myself went out to eat at a local coney island restaurant (the kind that seems to be everywhere in Metro Detroit). Janet's spirits were high and she was witty and engaging. On Christmas Eve, I shared the room with a different person. Janet was in a hospital bed in the living room. I couldn't tell if she even knew I was in the room. Barbara, Janet's mother had prepared Spaghetti, which was apparently a family tradition. Sometime when I had just about finished my first serving of the angel hair pasta, Janet stopped breathing.

Both of my grandmothers died of breast cancer. My father's mother died of the disease before I was even born. I think of all that Janet will miss, but most importantly I think how less rich my life would be, without my sister-in-law, Janet.

The visitation is tomorrow (Sunday) and the funeral will be a local Catholic Church. Information on the funeral is at Griffin Funeral Home. Contributions in Janet's honor can be made to the Young Survival Coalition.

I keep thinking of the tagline she created a few months ago: "F*ck Awareness: Find a Cure." (You can still buy the stuff online). Yes I get her point the pink ribbons seem a little trite when you are facing death.

God, I miss Janet tonight.

Frick Awareness: Find a Cure (redacted by the editor)

You know, when I was growing up, I always wanted a sister. Yes, I imagined the nice things they would say to me and perhaps most importantly, help to fix me up with their friends. But alas, the Goddess gave me 2 brothers. But then their are sister-in-laws. I would never put the F-word on my blog without the great excuse that I'm just supporting my sister-in-law, Janet.

See Janet and me (like many bloggers) are naturally introverts and blogging gives us a chance to "say" the things, we sometimes can't in real life. Though the blogging world is real, I think.

So, in honor of Janet and in the hope that she gets rich on her great design. I'm putting a plug out there for her movement to Frick Awareness: Find a Cure. (Janet, I hope I am not violating your trademark, if so, please contact my attorneys. Yes, after going through a divorce, I have too many). Love, Your Brother-in-Law, Todd

PS: What would the minister who did you wedding say about you using the F-word? Oh yeah, that was me. He thinks it is pretty cool.
PPS: Just so you have the links clear: Janet's Great blog. Her Store.

And Now An Update on Mr. Baxter Pugsley--Crossposting Dog Edition

Of course, the entire blog-a-verse knows about Baxter Pugsley. Ok, maybe not. But the readers of Janet's Blog know about the great dog, the only and only, Mr. B. (Janet is my wonderful sister-in-law who out does me in blogging greatness and having the coolest collection of science fiction stuff that anyone would be proud of.)

Well, I have been alone today with Baxter while Brian has been at work. And we have had a nice time. We took 2 walks and only had 1 little accident, which perhaps "Daddy" aka Brian will not know about.

I am Baxter's "Uncle" at least in dog-laws. Though for some reason, the Elkins nieces and nephews call me Tio Todd. Scott's girls speak Spanish, their Uncle, I mean Tio does not. But I love the alteration of Tio Todd.

Now, I want to believe that Baxter's Spanish is worse than mine, but I'm not testing this dog. He is a good boy and makes his Tio proud!

Beware of those who ban books! (And other truisms)

A wiser woman than I has created a wonderful site that catalogs many of the banned books that someone has deemed "dangerous".

Toy assault guns at Target. Not a problem! Books. Careful. (And to be fair, they are probably right that the books are more dangerous than the silly little piece of plastic shaped as a gun).