Coffee Break - Return to the Metro

Folks, I need to take a little break. As can easily be seen, I got a little carried away and went all out to say something about the birth of my second grandson, Jobe Atene Hess. I began the process in a state of sheer exhaustion and I am sheerly exhausted right now. I spent much more time on it than I could afford to, so now I have to back partly away from this blog for awhile and devote my time to other tasks - ones that might actually bring in some revenue.

So here I am, taking a break at Metro Cafe, where I shot this image, Through the Metro Window, Study #4.7, which I am certain will surely be hanging on the wall at MOMA in New York no later than early next week, just as soon as the folks there get a chance to log onto my blog and marvel at the sheer magnificence of this image.

"It's brilliant beyond superb," the MOMA Chief of Masterpiece Acquisitions will exude. "I want it in our museum, now!"

"It's downright piquant," her chief assistant will gush. "I will jump in the Learjet and dash off to Wasilla right now and I will acquire it."

The subjects of the study are, in the reverse order: Jessie, Doug, Jennifer and Brittney. Carmen said that Jessie came in the other night and helped her clean up. Or maybe it was Doug who helped her. Anyway, one of them did.

Remember last week, just before the birth of Jobe, when I mentioned that the dollar bill that I had given Carmen as a tip had blown away in the wind and as I retrieved it, having already shot a Metro Window study and with another car pulling up to the window behind me, I heard Carmen say, "It's those cute girls!" and then I looked and saw some beautiful Alaska Native girls running excitely from a pickup truck to the shop?

I had to move on, but did so in the hope that one day soon I could make those girls the subject of a Metro Window study.

Talk about Deja Vu! I looked in my rearview mirror and there they were, running toward Metro again. Only they were not coming from a pickup truck. They were coming from their home further up the road. Maybe I misinterpreted the other day and they only ran past the truck.

Or maybe someone just drove them the short distance from their home to Metro, because they were enroute to another place.

Anyway, here they are - or at least three of them: Melissa, Allison, and Jennifer in Through the Window Metro Study #538. Carmen says they come in every day, as regularly as I do. They buy smoothies. Sometimes they hang out and even help out around the cafe.

MOMA will have to battle the Louvre in Paris for this one, so it might not hang on the wall of whichever the of the two museums wins until maybe two weeks from now.

So that's it for today. 

You can expect brief posts for a few days to come.

Birth of Jobe Atene Hess, Part 5 - final: We bury the placenta and umbilical cord

It was Sunday, February 14, and Margie had gotten up earlier than me, in part because I had been up until the wee hours working in this blog and in part because she needed to buy certain food items to prepare for the gathering that we had planned for early afternoon.

Finally, I got up, about 9 - 9:30 AM and, before I started to microwave my oatmeal, walnuts and frozen berries, staggered out here into my office to see what had happened on my computer after I had left it a few minutes before 4:00 AM.

I was surprised to find these tulips on my worktable, along with these five little dark chocolate hearts.

Margie had bought them for me while she was out shopping.

Not only was it Valentine's Day, but it was our anniversary.

In theory, it was our 36th Anniversary - but I know that this cannot actually be true, since I can not possibly be much older than 40.

It was an exceptionally nice thing to find sitting on my table, surrounded by fish, with a map of Alaska above.

When we had left Jacob and Lavina's house Saturday night, they were uncertain as to what time they would arrive at our house to bury the placenta and to eat frybread and beans, but they thought it would be fairly early, because they were certain that certain little people would not let them sleep late, no matter how tired they were.

Margie had started soaking the pinto beans the day before. Now, at a fairly early hour, she began to cook them. After that, she mixed up the ingrediants for the frybread.

But nobody showed up. Hours passed.

About 3:00 pm, I sent a text message, asking Jacob and Lavina if they were still coming.

Jacob called back to tell me their car wouldn't start. The battery was dead. Melanie was on her way over. She would give them a jump and then they would come.

About half-an-hour later, I received a text message from Lavina. If Caleb was awake, she wondered if I could have him go outside and shovel the snow down to the ground, right next to the spot where we had buried Kalib's placenta.

Caleb was asleep and I did not want to wake him. I told her I would do it myself.

"Don't hurt yr shoulder" she texted back.

I wasn't worried. I went out and cleared the snow away.

I didn't want to swing a pickax, though, or try to thrust a shovel into the frozen ground.

It was well after 4:00 when they arrived. I feared the ceremony would not take place until after dark.

Charlie and Melanie arrived about the same time, so Charlie came out to help.

It has been such a warm winter that the frost was only about one foot deep. Even so, our ground is hard to dig in, even when there's no frost at all. It was hard work and it took time.

Whenever one would tire, the other was there to spell him.

When the hole was dug to the same depth that the little shovel that Jacob holds is long, about three feet, Melanie came out to sample the dirt. That's part of what she does at work - test dirt and soil from construction sites all over the state.

She told Jacob that she was impressed to see him work so hard. "Usually, you stand around and watch other people work," she teased.

There was truth to the statement, because that is part of what a civil engineer does - goes and watches over the work of others to make certain everything is up to code and that they do not get shoddy.

I have seen Jacob at work in the field. He is very serious about it.

Even though it was another horribly warm day, warmth is always relative. Before the ceremony, I wanted to take a picture in the house, but I knew that if I took my cold cameras inside with nothing to protect them, they would fog up.

So I stood on the back porch to shoot a couple of images through the open door. As you can see, after about two seconds, my lens began to fog up anyway, so I had to stop.

Now it was getting darker - darker than it looks in the picture, but if I let it the picture look as dark as it actually was, readers would find it to be very annoying.

As I stated in an earlier post, it is against Navajo spiritual beliefs to discard the placenta and umbilical cord as waste. These have been the living instrument from which life has been transferred from the mother to the baby and as such are sacred and must be put away with respect, so we set out to do so, according to Lavina's instructions, just as we had done with Kalib's. Navajo belief also says that the mother cannot be present for the burial of the placenta, so Lavina had to stay inside the house.

I will share the essence of what Jacob said as he spoke and in his way offered a prayer. In part, this ceremony is meant to forever tie the baby to the land where the placenta and umbilical cord is buried. Jacob said that the thought of Jobe and Kalib having a strong tie to this place pleased him, because he had grown up here and it had been good.

He had been loved and cherished and it would be good for his sons always to be able to come here and to feel that same tie, that love and care.

We live on such a ragged financial edge that I am forever wondering how long we can hang onto this house. In fact, Margie and I have been thinking about having a realator come and take a look at it sometime after the snow melts and the ground dries, to see if maybe we could sell it for enough to pay off our debts and then get us a tiny hut somewhere where I could just sit and write.

How can I do that now?

And with all those animals buried further back towards the boundary of our property?

After Jacob finished speaking, the placenta was passed to each of us who stood there and all of us said something. We ended with Caleb, who we got out bed at the last moment.

It was quite dark by now. I had my ISO cranked up to 6400 and my shutter speed down to 1/4 of a second.

My eyes could make out everybody's shape and basic features but not much more.

And then we buried the umbilical cord and the placenta through which Lavina had nourished Jobe. We each took our turns, filling the hole first by hand and then by shovel.

Yes, it reminded me of all those times that I have done the same at a graveside.

Yet, this was a happy time. This also brought solemnity to it. It reminded us too of life's ultimate destination.

We then went into the house and ate our frybread and beans. Some of us made Navajo/Apache tacos, some ate the beans from the bowl as soup, with frybread on the side.

Either way, it was excellent - although the frybread was a little harder than normal, because Margie had started the dough so early.

Then we all just visited - and we enjoyed the little baby that had been nourished and strengthened through that flesh that we had just buried.

This is he: Jobe Atene Hess. Half Navajo, one-quarter Apache, one quarter the Euro-mix that is me.

And he has relatives on the other side of the world - Indians. India Indians. Hindu.

We are all family.

This is the nature of our world these days.

Here he is, held by his loving mother.

And here is Charlie, holding the ailing Royce. 

When it came time to feed the fish, Kalib and Gracie charged to my office. My screen-saver slide show feature is attached to a folder full of photos of the original cats. Sometimes, Kalib can sit in my chair for a long time and just watch those cat pictures drift across the screen.

Now he shouts to Gracie, to point out the magic of what is going on. 

The cat on screen is The Whole Kitten, Kaboodle - our original cat, the one who started it all, the one that Lisa would not let me cook for lunch, the one who taught me that I did not really despise cats but that I actually loved and admired them.

Gracie watches as Kalib feeds the fish.

A bit later, I heard some commotion in the back, coming from the room where Jacob, Lavina and Kalib had lived during the year-and-a-half that they spent with us.

I went back and found this - not good for mattresses, but good for a little boy and girl. That is what matters.

Not long afterward, a mad game of "Run Up and Down the Hall 200 Times" broke out. I will highlight this game in a later post.

Then they bundled up little Jobe, secured him in a car seat and left.

Ceremony of baby's first poop

In my Monday post, I wrote about how Melanie had gotten an important picture that I had missed. I told how, not long after Jobe had been born, I saw and heard Jacob and Lavina check with great interest to see whether or not he had pooped for the first time.

I thought they just wanted to be certain he was functioning as he should. Then later, as Margie and I neared their house where we were desperate to lie down and nap after being awake for over 30 hours, my iPhone rang and I handed it to Margie so that I would not crash. I heard her say to Jacob, still at the hospital, "there's poop on your face?"

Again, I misunderstood for a bit and thought that some kind of weird mishap had happened.

So I missed this picture.

This also is a Navajo tradition, although nobody thought of it when Kalib was born so he missed it. Before anyone gets too horrified, remember that a baby's first poop is clean. It does not stink.

The mother and father apply some of the first poop to their faces. This causes the dark spots under the eyes to leave earlier and helps to guarantee a smooth complexion.

I feel badly about missing it, but I am glad that Melanie was there to capture it on her iPhone. She later emailed this image to me.

Although she chose to develop and pursure other, more intellectual and academic talents, Melanie was born with a photographic gift.

You might suspect that it came from me, but I must tell you that her natural, raw, talent is superior to mine. Mine is more developed and practiced, but her's is superior.

All this got Margie and I to wondering. What were the Apache baby traditions that we overlooked when our children were born? Why didn't anyone tell us? Why didn't we think to ask?

I think it probably has a lot to do with the fact that we were still going to church at that time, making certain that we did everything for the babies that the church mandated we do. The church didn't know anything about Apache ways and it didn't care. It was greatly interested in Apaches, but that interest was to baptize, indoctrinate and assimilate - not to learn from.

Yes, we went to all the Apache Sunrise Dance ceremonies that we could, but we didn't ask what we should do for our babies in the Apache way.

It never occurred to us to ask.

I feel kind of bad about that, now.

Birth of Jobe Atene Hess, Part 4*: Little Jobe comes home to meet the big furball Muzzy; Kalib struggles a bit, but gets some good romping in

The night after the birth, Margie and I got a bit of sleep but woke up in kind of a pleasant stupor. I'm not quite certain what we did between then and when we got in the car and headed to Anchorage, but it must have been something, because several hours passed.

We then arrived at Jacob and Lavina's even before they did, as it took them longer to get out of the hospital than they had anticipated.

Soon, though, they came home. Soon after that, little Jobe was in the arms of his grandma, her hand resting upon his chest.

Not long after that, little Jobe's feet came out. They are mighty cute feet.

Kalib, however, did not seem to want to have much to do with his new brother. When Dad lifted Jobe up for Kalib to admire, Kalib turned away.

Muzzy, however, was mighty interested.

So Jacob introduced the two. I believe they have bonded now. As all this was going on, Martigne, the calico cat came walking by but showed no interest.

Her curiosity failed her.

If she had been Jim or Royce, she would have been interested. If she had been Pistol or Chicago, she would have wanted to stay as far away from the baby as possible.

People often stereotype cats and dogs, but each is an individual, just as each human is.

Muzzy, for all his size, is a dog with a gentle and soft heart.

Yet, I don't believe it would be wise for anyone to mess with this baby - or with Kalib - with Muzzy around. A hard spot would quickly appear in that soft heart.

Ha! Kalib I caught slyly checking his little brother out!

Then Jobe was in my arms. Jacob and Gracie played on the floor.

Kalib did pay attention when it came time to change Jobe's diaper. He seemed a bit disgusted by the whole idea - and yet, he still wears a diaper himself.

His eyes got distracted by the video, Ice Age.

He joined his Dad and Gracie to watch a few scenes from Ice Age. Soon, he wanted to go out into the ice and snow himself.

So off he went to a nearby park with his Dad. Soon, he slid down the slide.

Kalib loves the slide.

The stop was a bit abrupt. He would repeat the process, many times.

Gracie and Laverne showed up. Gracie followed in Kalib's butt path.

Gracie bumped her head at the bottom. Mom gave her some comfort.

It began to grow dark, so we headed back. Melanie had arrived by then. She peered out the window at us.

Soon, Melanie was frolicking with the little ones.

If I but had ten percent of the energy... I could write a novel with as many words as War and Peace.

It would be a great novel, too, one that would be loved by students of literature the world over and in outer space, too.

I think I would title it, Peace and War.

But I do not have the energy of little people.

So I guess I won't write Peace and War.

Charlie came with Melanie and got his first glimpse of the baby. "That's one fine baby," Charlie praised. "I sure hope he grows a beard someday soon."

Maybe that's not an exact quote.

I can't remember for certain.

It kind of sounds like Charlie, though.

"I think that baby needs a cat," Charlie added, seriously.

Or maybe he didn't.

But I'm certain that would be his sentiment.

Caleb also arrived during the romp in the park. Once again, he got into the role of uncle, just like that. He was already talking about getting Jobe his first set of golf clubs, so that he can start swinging even before he learns to crawl.

When Kalib saw his Uncle Caleb being an uncle to Jobe and talking golf, he rushed over to make certain both knew who the practiced golfer in the family really is.

We had a bite to eat and then Lavina tied Jobe into the white buckskin-clad cradle board that Margie's sister LeeAnn had made for him.

Kalib then wanted the cradle board with the baby in it, but he couldn't have it.

He cried, and his Uncle Caleb picked him up to see if he could soothe his hurt feelings. Yes, Kalib has always been the baby and now he is dislodged.

This is a natural thing and I am not worried about it.

Lavina rocked Kalib to sleep.

It was time for Margie and I to return to Wasilla, so we did.

*In part 5, the final installment of this series, Jobe will make his first visit to his grandparents home in Wasilla. There will be a ceremony to bind him forever to this place and to us.

We will eat frybread and beans.

Birth of Jobe Atene Hess, Part 3*: Little Jobe is introduced to big brother Kalib, who, up until now, has had his parents' affections to himself

At the moment when I take this picture, Jobe and Kalib have not been in the same room together since Jobe exited his nice, warm, secure, place in his mother's womb, nearly 13 hours earlier - but this is about to change. Less than five seconds after I snap this image, the door to Lavina and Jobe's hospital room swings open and in walks Kalib.

Kalib does not seem at all surprised to see his little brother being held in the arms that, the last time he had seen his mother, had been exclusively his - except, perhaps, to give a little hug to Gracie and other little ones now and then.

Of course, those arms would also go around Dad, but that was different.

I had wondered if Kalib had comprehended that a new baby was coming to the family. Now, I am certain that even before he came through the door he understood that a baby brother was going to be waiting for him. How will he react? For a few moments, Kalib just stares at his little brother.

Then he reachs out towards Jobe.

His grandma picks him up to give him a better look. Knowing how rambunctious her eldest son can be, how he can suddenly dive onto people lying on beds and couches, his mother lifts her arm - just in case.

Kalib studies his little brother.

Then Kalib points at Jobe.

Next, he reaches down to touch him on the chest.

He smiles, then reaches out and touches Jobe on the nose.

Kalib then settles in alongside his mother and drinks his milk.

He stares at the ceiling as his mother tends to his little brother. Do you remember how fascinating the ceiling lights in a place that you had never been before looked to you when you were tiny?

I don't know for certain, but I think this is why Kalib is staring at the ceiling.

His mother wants to be certain that Kalib knows that his position at the center of her world has only moved the tiniest bit - just enough to allow another tiny person in. She asks him if he wants to take a little walk.

He does. So Lavina hands Jobe to Grandma as Kalib begins to get up.

Kalib hits the floor and dashes out of the hospital room into the nearby hall before his mom can follow. Then he looks back to see where she is.

Then they take a little walk. A very short walk. But it is just the two of them together. Even grandpa takes only a few pictures, then leaves them to themselves for a few minutes.

Soon they are back in the room and Kalib is in the arms of his Uncle Caleb. I see a potential picture that I think will be very nice - namely, if all those on the other side of the bed were to look affectionately at Jobe at the same time. I am certain they soon will, because Jobe is so beautiful, how can they not?

But none of the males will look at Jobe. Their eyes are riveted upon the TV set mounted high on the wall. It is the opening day of the Winter Olympics. Nodar Kumaritashvili of Georgia has been killed while practicing for his luge event. His death is being broadcast to all the world.

It is a horrible thing to see, but now we have all seen it.

There are six Alaskans competing in this winter Olympics, including Yup'ik/Iñupiat snowboarder Callan Chythlook-Sifsof, originally of Dillingham, now of Girdwood.

I cannot tell you how badly I want the Alaskans to win medals and I will find it especially nice if Chythlook-Sifsof does. Even if she doesn't, she has already brought an elevated level of pride to this state among both Natives and non-Natives. She has also made it just a little bit harder for non-Natives who are so inclined to stereotype Natives.

Now Kalib's dad takes Jobe from his grandmother and pulls him over. "Look, Kalib," he says. "It's your little brother, Jobe!"

Kalib does not want to look at his brother now. He demands instead that he go to his mother.

From his mother's arms, Kalib turns to look at Jobe.

Kalib may have some reservations about this whole little brother thing.

*Well, I have completely given up on the idea of packing multiple posts into a single day so that I can catch up with the birth of Jobe and surrounding events and then move into the present, which I can never do, anyway, because as soon as I catch it, the present always turns out to be the past.

So I will continue to make just one post a day until I complete this series, which I believe will total five parts.

Tomorrow, in Part 4, it is my hope to highlight Jobe's second day of life - the day that he checked out of the hospital and came home to meet the dog, Muzzy and to be ignored by the cat, Martigne.

Part 5 will be dedicated to the little ceremony for Jobe that we had here at the house on Sunday.

Birth of Jobe Atene Hess, Part 2*: Little Jobe enters a hard world, wrapped in love

This is the very first picture that I took of my new grandson, Jobe Atene Hess and a strange thing happened to me when I first pulled it up on this computer, blew it up to a much larger size than you see here and took a look at it.

I began to study the image, feeling calm and pleased, but a sudden, completely unexpected sob formed deep in my chest and then burst out of me. I wept, hard, for about five seconds, maybe ten at the most. Then it stopped, although my eyes stayed watery for awhile.

Yes, some of that was the natural joy that I felt, but some of it was also sorrow. I saw how tiny, little, soft, helpess, dependent and red he was and I thought of this world - this wonderful, exciting, beautiful, challenging, yet often hard, harsh, brutal and indifferent world and how he is going to have to make his way through it.

We will all do our best to get him off to a good start, but sooner or later he is going to have to deal with it on his own. We will all be memories.

Just as all those loving ancestors, each and everyone, who brought me into the world and watched over me dwell now only in memories.

Once he was out of the womb, and as of yet still unnamed, the first step was to get him cleaned up, checked up and wrapped up. Lavina had done much hard and painful work to get him here and has much work yet ahead, so the nurse kindly stepped in and took care of this part.

Soon, the nurse had him cleaned up, checked up and wrapped up.

His dad took him now, looked him straight in the face and then suddenly began to sob himself. I could see that the sobs caught him completely by surprise.

Jacob with his second-born son, whom he will soon name, Jobe, pronounced, Joe-bee. Atene came from Lavina. It is a Navajo name and if it has a meaning beyond the sound of it, she does not know what it is.

Lavina named Kalib and agree to let Jacob name their second baby.

Jacob does not know where the name Jobe came from. It just came. He liked the sound of it.

Mom, Dad and baby Jobe.

They laugh with joy.

This gives me hope that my little granddaughter will yet come.

The mom and dad are not the only ones who want to hold little Jobe. Soon, another hand reaches out for him. Whose hand could it be?

Why, it's his Auntie Laverne.

And now he's in my arms. I am photographing him with the pocket camera.

As I hold Jobe, others admire him.

Little Jobe.

Now his Uncle Caleb has him. Caleb has been an amazing uncle to Kalib - just as uncles are supposed to be in both the Navajo and Apache cultures from who Jobe descends - plus from me, of course.

I'm not really certain what role uncles were supposed to play in my culture. I grew up in places where I had no uncles, aunts, or cousins nearby.

I did spend one summer working on my aunt and uncle's cattle ranch in southern Idaho. That summer, my cowboy uncle did teach me a great deal.

Jacob carries the placenta away to a safe place. This will be better explained three posts from now. Simply stated, Lavina is serious about the spiritual ways of her Navajo people - the Dine and has imparted that seriousness to all of us. To the Dine, the placenta is not something to be disposed of as waste, medical or otherwise.

It is sacred and as such must be put away in a sacred manner.

Jacob took Laverne back to the house to stay with Gracie, picked up Margie and Kalib, dropped Kalib off at daycare and then brought Margie to the hospital.

Finally, she was able to hold her grandson.

This dear woman - she loves her grandchildren deeply.

She would throw herself in front of a train to save either of them, or be consumed in a flaming building if it meant she could toss them to safety.

Of this I have no doubt.

I never did and still don't deserve her, but I got her, anyway.

The hand of my wife touches the hand of my second grandson.

Jobe's little hand. For some reason, the instant I see this picture, I hear the voice of my own mother, when I was very small. She is singing, "I have two little hands folded snugly and tight, they are tiny and weak yet they know what is right. During all the long hours till daylight is through, there is plenty indeed for my two hands to do."

Yes, there is plenty indeed ahead for this one's tiny hands to do.

Now Jobe is held by his Uncle Rex. You can imagine that this moment is both wonderful and hard for him. It is for all of his, for he married a woman who he deeply loves and even now wants no one to speak ill of or think unkind thoughts toward but asks only that we love her, despite the horrible pain that her departure has inflicted upon him, upon us all.

I will say only this - I know my son. He is sensitive, kind, highly intelligent, greatly creative, hard-working, compassionate and he deserves to have children of his own. Expectations, dreams and ambitions are not met overnight, or even in years. It takes a lifetime of hard work, sacrifice, commitment, patience and forgiveness, a million times over. Love endures it all and does not abandon. May such love yet bloom in his life.

Tavra.

That's Iñupiaq for, "that's all I've got to say on the matter."

A few hours after the birth, a nurse placed Jobe in this little cart. Jacob then wheeled him to the "D" Tower elevator and up we went to the fourth floor, room 465.

There, the love and adoration continued. Caleb photographed Jobe with his iPhone.

Lisa arrived during her lunch break. As she sat here, holding Jobe, surrounded by her brothers, I pictured those same brothers as young boys, gathered around her mother as Lisa suckled at her breasts.

As Natalie massages her shoulders, Lavina gives Jobe some air.

As soon as she was able, Melanie arrived. A very special moment would happen not long afterward, but I had failed to understand and so missed it. I thought Lavina and Jacob were curious about whether or not Jobe had pooped for the first time just because they wanted to know that he was functioning fully.

And later, after Margie I got a bite to eat, picked up Laverne, dropped her back off at the hospital and then were nearly back to Jacob and Lavina's where I felt desperate to collapse upon their wonderfully nap-able L-shaped couch and my iPhone rang and I handed it to Margie because I had already almost run over two jay-walking pedestrians and did not want to talk on the phone and drive and I heard her say, "you've got poop on your face?" I just thought some strange mishap had happened.

I did not know that it was a special event that had been forgotten about with Kalib but remembered now. I did not know that I should have been there to photograph it.

But Melanie was there and she did photograph it.

Three posts from now, I will share her image and explain the important thing that Margie and I missed.

Natalie, with Jobe. Frequent visitors have undoubtedly noticed the great plethora of toys that Kalib had at the house when he was living with us, and now at his new house.

Many of those toys... many, many, many... maybe most... came as gifts from this woman.

I have never heard the title applied to her, but she is kind of like a God-mother to our two grandchildren.

As the sun began to sink toward the end of Jobe's birthday, we awaited the arrival of one more, very special, visitor - Kalib. His dad had gone to pick him up from daycare, where some special activities that no one wanted him to miss had happened.

As we waited, a helicopter appeared outside Lavina's window.

This told me that someone had probably either been hurt very badly or had fallen critically ill. Hospitals are at once places of joy, places of pain, places of sorrow, of relief, of healing and ultimate grief.

I thought of my previous experiences here in Providence. The first was for Kalib's birth. Happy, joyous. 

The second happened when I dropped in to visit a friend whose own baby had been medivaced to this place in critical condition. She was comatose, wired and tubed up, but my friend and his wife were clinging to all the hope they could pull up from their souls. 

Then a doctor walked in with a form that he hoped they would sign. There was no hope for their baby, he told them. Her brain was already dead and her body would follow. If they would but sign this form, they could keep her alive long enough to harvest organs for transplant to others who could then get a chance to live.

They agreed, signed the papers, the doctor left and then the mother sank to the floor, and there lay weeping as her husband bent over her, seeking to comfort and to find comfort where it felt to me there was no comfort to be found.

The third took place after the Lear Jet ambulance that my insurance company refused to pay for, despite the promise the saleswoman had made when she sold me the insurance, dropped me off at the airport after the flight from Barrow and a regular ambulance had brought me here, to undergo emergency surgery.

That was an experience of pain. As was my fourth trip in, which happened just one week later after the original surgery failed and they took away my natural shoulder and gave me a titanium one.

That, too, was an experience of pain - yet in both cases, I felt the love of family and that was a good thing.

My fifth experience at Providence - this happy moment.

Such is the nature of hospitals.

*Up next: Kalib meets Jobe.

Just like last night, I had hoped to post this before I went to bed, but we have had a big day here at our house in Wasilla. All of our Alaska Hess family were here, along with Laverne and Gracie Begay. A pick axe was swung, shovels bit into the frozen earth, there was ceremony, feasting and two little people ran up and down the hallway at least 100 times. I think more than that. Maybe 200 times.

Enough times to wear me out, that's for sure.

It was all I could do to get this post up. I am exhausted, worn out, can hardly keep my eyes open. I must go to bed. I will post the meeting between Kalib and Jobe sometime Monday.

Sorry to keep post-poning things and making excuses, but I've got a huge amount of material here to work with.