In this presentation, the kind folks at Plano East dedicated one of the AEDs to my late nephew, and another AED to the memory of a man who passed away from a sudden massive coronary, and whose family kindly purchased an AED in his memory.
I don't spend much time in high schools these days. This one looked just like a high school to me, which is somehow reassuring. We sat in plastic chairs in the school cafeteria, while they made the presentation. Several dozen people came, which seemed to me a kind compliment given that it was five p.m. on Valentine's Day.
It is now a bit under six hours shy of the time that a year will have passed since my mother passed away. This seems to be a day of memories for me. Yet memory always comes admixed with the here and the now. My wife took our new dog to training tonight at a suburban commuter university called Pappy's Pet Boarding, where, apparently,the
tuition is cheap and the faculty world-class. I dined on dragon roll,filled out a Valentine's Day card, and gently remixed "Thorncrown Chapel", the folk song a kind fellow, Steve McNeill, did of one of my poems, so that I could post the song on the CCMixter remix site. I paid attention to our dog Ted, who enjoys the compliment of attention--of being given commands, and following them.
When my wife and young Bea got home, I threw the ball for Bea, watching her run and fetch, fetch and run. The ball flew from my hand,and cascaded against the door. Bea fetches the ball, brings it over, sets it down. The sun rises like a yellow ball. The sun sets with a bounce off the woodwork. I'm left with memories, a sense of loss, and the sight of a small dog bouncing as she leaps to catch the ball.