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Crossing The Mississippi

After 10 long says in Texas, finally back in Tennessee. 3 hours to go.

The Funeral...

...begins in about 20 minutes.

The Reitmann Clan

...dining on Tex-Mex at Chuy's in Dallas.

Visitation

He's looking a far sight better than the last time we saw him. And suddenly I have a whole new appreciation of all those episodes of "Six Feet Under" we've watched.

From The Drama of The Dying...

..to the drama of the living...

I think the numbness of the past few days is just sort of settling in.  It's weird.  On the one hand, there is a great relief in the knowledge that the spirit that was Jack Reitmann has shed his mortal coil and gone on to whatever reward awaits on the other side (although Jack was pretty much an atheist and would likely have disputed the notion of "the other side" or any kind of life-after-expiration...). 

On the other hand, we now anticipate the drama inherent in the family that remains.  The who-gets-what, the scheduling the funeral, and what looks like another five days of mostly waiting around.

Unfortunately, once the drama shifts from the dying to the living, the people I'd be tempted to write about are still alive, so best I probably keep my thoughts to myself...

RIP John Henry Reitmann 1920-2008

John Henry Reitmann b. June 21, 1920 in Red Wing, MN to the late Mary Buchholtz and John H. Reitmann, died September 2, 2008 in Dallas, TX.  Preceded in death by Francis Dean Reitmann.  Survived by their three children, John David Reitmann, Jane Kass-Wolff (Don), and Ann Stout Schatzkin (Paul), & "adopted" daughter Cindy Anderson; 5 grand-children: Chris Kass, Robert and James Stout, Tim Reitmann, and Brooke Naegele (Matt); and two great grandchildren, Grant and Reese Kass. A sailor, bridge player, traveler and photographer.  A graduate of U. of Minnesota. Medical School and U. of Cincinnati.  Captain in U.S. Army Medical Corps, three years of service in Germany after WWII.  Resident of Dallas since 1961, practicing psychiatry at Timberlawn and private practice.  Member of AMA, Dallas County Medical Society, North Texas Chapter,  American Psychiatric Assoc.; faculty at UT Southwestern Medical School Psychiatric Dept; after retirement at age 86, a volunteer docent at Dallas Arboretum.  In lieu of flowers, contributions to American Cancer Society or Dallas Arboretum.

Hospice Central Time

So I took some time off -- now there's redundant statement, under the circumstances -- this afternoon and went across the street to the AMC Theaters in the Northpark Mall and watched "Tropic Thunder."  Pretty entertaining, at least the first half.  And Tom Cruise very nearly redeems himself with a cameo performance as a deranged (fat, bald) studio head.  The character also drinks Diet Cokes, so I suspect it's based on my old camp Kennebec bunk-mate Jeffrey Katzenberg, now a Hollywood mogul and known to be even more of a terror now than he was when we were 11.

After the movie I returned to the hospice.  No change. I'd post another picture but... what's the point?  It's the same as it was this morning, same as it was yesterday, and the day before.  There is only one thing that can change.

Meanwhile, I received an e-mail from my friend Sharon, who has worked at the Alive Hospice in Nashville as a social worker (I think -- at least, not as family of a patient). She says that this place we're in.. is its own time zone:

Thinking of you guys – you have been in the hospice time zone – it’s a zone that only those who’ve been there know of – totally distinct from Central, Mountain, etc.  And you’re right, that level of non-work – “just sitting around” is exhausting on ALL levels.

Sounds like she knows precisely whereof she speaks.  "Hospice Central Time."  That's a good name or this black hole we've been wandering around in. 

Vigil, Day 5: Look Familiar?

We sorta slept in this morning after leaving the hospice at about 10:00 last night.  Well, Ann slept in. I was up at 6:30 as usual, Ann didn't get up until 8:00.

We arrived at the hospice around 10:00 AM, and found Jack pretty much as we left him last night.  He hasn't taken food or water for two and half days, and his blood pressure is down to 80/60, and really all he's doing at this point is breathing. 

Yesterday was Jack and Fran's 64th Wedding Anniversary.  We were all sort of hoping that Jack had something of a poet left in him, that Fran would be waiting for him  and they'd celebrate their anniversary together on the other side.  Didn't work out that way.  Now all we can hope for is... soon. 

Vigil, Day 3: Jack Gets A Visitor

Actually, Jack gets "another" visitor. 

At one point last night I think there were about 8 of us in the room:  Ann and I, brother Dave, sister Jane, friend Anne, friend Cindy, friend Sarah, a nurse, the attendant Anna Marie and her son, and another nurse. 

This morning Jack got a visitor from Lisa, his 12-year-old schnauzer.  Lisa's not in such good health herself.  12 is what in dog years, 84?  That makes her almost as old as Jack.

The irony, of course, is that when Lisa's time comes, she will have a far more dignified passing than what is being accorded Jack at this point.  What's the name of that old movie...."They Shoot Horses, Don't They?"  ?

Free Pizza

It's not exactly like having the "event" catered, but in addition to the Panera Bread Co. across the street there is also a Buca diBeppo Italian restaurant. 

There were six of us in the room at the time.  Ann's brother drove up from Austin yesterday, her sister flew in from Denver this evening, and a couple of other close family friends.

So I ordered two pizzas, and when Rich the manager learned what it was all for, he offered one of them "on the house." 

Unfortunately, the guest of honor did not partake of any of the pizza.  Or anything else, for that matter.  He has not eaten all day.  He's just...gurgled.