Pirates for Hire

Sunday morning I was on call and the workload was mercifully light which allowed me to head home just after the noon hour. At home I was presented with the daunting task of “entertaining” Elias (which basically means keeping him out of trouble) while simultaneously helping J get the house together for the family Christmas get-together that we are hosting for the first time in our 10 years of married life. You can see the challenge I was up against.

Elias helped by picking the theme early, pirates. I dug through my chest-of-drawers to find two old bandanas that we could wear and he located his belt and sword along with a sweeper attachment that he gave to me for my “little cannon”. Now, here is where the parallel tracks of play and work needed to run through the course of the day. Our first task was to dig through a large box full of unpacked framed photos from our previous house with a plan to hang some of them so it looks like we actually live in the current house.

The epiphany came when Elias stumbled upon a small glowing monkey globe that had somehow found its way into that box, a glowing jewel, a treasure if you will! So, boxes were now treasure chests. It was a short leap from there to the idea that our house was a vast pirate ship requiring repairs and other forms of maintenance to keep it sea worthy. The upstairs became the rigging, the downstairs became the main deck, and the basement became the hold. Elias began to really get into this new idea with strange nautical terms and was helping me unpack dishes, carry boxes up and down the stairs, and put books on shelves.

The one bone that I had to throw him periodically involved shooting people that were bullying him with my “little cannon”. I really chafed against this kind of senseless violence, but it seemed a small price to pay for all the work I was getting out of the little guy. He would say something like, “that boy just pushed me down, Daddy Pirate” and I would have to immediately draw the cannon from under my belt and blow the imaginary kid away with a loud explosion sound. All in all a very productive day despite the terrible sight of imaginary bloody kid parts strewn throughout my house.

I Thought I saw the Theotokos

I thought I saw the Theotokos
walking the halls of the hospital
where I work,

her face dark, warm, and
glowing with an inner light,
hair bound up in a colorful wrap,

a veil draped over all
cascading down and
getting lost in the folds

of her ankle-length gown.
Someone told me she was
from the Somali community

here in our Midwestern town,
but I think I saw the Theotokos today
and it made my heart glad.

***

The Country Shed

The Country Shed
Originally uploaded by []Aaroneous Monk[]

Some time in the mid 90’s the so-called “bypass” in Marion Indiana was being widened to accommodate a growing amount of traffic. It was originally built to bypass the downtown area which had grown stagnant and made getting from A to B in a timely manner difficult. Over time it began to attract a multitude of chain businesses. With this kind of proliferation came increased traffic and traffic lights which eventually made it a not very efficient way to get from A to B. A casualty of this widening was a small unassuming brick building known as "The Country Shed”.

It was here that Indiana Wesleyan University students could experience some local-color-realism by breathing in substantial amounts of second hand smoke and eating off of greasy plates while sitting conspicuously isolated from the usual patrons. Kevin grew up in Marion and had befriended many of the unseemly types that frequented the Shed. My impression from the few opportunities I got to hang out with Kevin and the Shed regulars was that they didn’t exactly know what to make of him, but found him strangely compelling and over time even came to love him. At some point Kevin convinced three of these folks, a woman and two men, to allow him to create a painting of them sitting around a table talking and smoking.

I can think of few better expressions of letting someone know they are precious and unique than spending the time and effort to capture them in a fine art piece. And the fact they sat there for such a long time while Kevin worked at his canvas, feeling somewhat conspicuous or at least a little silly as they must have, said a lot about the reciprocal nature of what was being shared.

Before the painting could be finished the Country Shed was closed in order to be torn down for the bypass expansion. Kevin was able to convince the owner to loan him the table and chairs along with glasses, salt & pepper shaker, sugar dispenser, and ash tray. He had them set up in the middle of his small studio apartment so he could invite the three former patrons over to talk, smoke, and joke while he painted. The one man I remember meeting at Kevin’s apartment was likely in his upper 50’s with greasy combed back hair, beard, and a penchant for chain-smoking. He reminded me a lot of the Vietnam vets I would later go on to meet and treat at a Behavioral Health Clinic in Washington DC.

***  

Kevin was a “fool” in the sense that Prince Mishkin was an “idiot” in Dostoyevsky’s “The Idiot”. His straight forward naiveté in loving and accepting others unconditionally was likely incomprehensible to many who only knew calculation, mistrust, and hurt in their own hearts and lives. Now that Kevin is gone I wonder if there are those who now say “didn’t our hearts burn while we were with him?” And by those less gracious, “he eats with publicans and sinners.” May his memory be eternal.

The Haunting

30 April 2009

This past week I’ve been in the process of clearing from Ft. Campbell in order to begin a new life sans military. It is a strange place to be, no clinical duties, no set schedule, like a homeless person or ghost flitting about the base. As a ghost who haunts the places he once knew I have been eating lunch and spending my in-between-clearing-appointments time at the Adult Behavioral Health clinic. It’s nice to continue to connect with my soon-to-be former colleagues and answer the occasional lingering treatment question for patients that will be transitioning to someone else now that I am technically out of the loop.

Today I dropped in and was told that Dr. D’s office was available if I wanted to hang out there. Dr. D is our Clinic Chief and a civilian. We worked together in another building prior to the new clinic being built which now sits half demolished about a block away from here (see photo). Due to his long experience and the need for continuity (military personnel come and go frequently) he was made Chief when we moved into the new building. Almost two months ago he shared in the weekly staff meeting that he had been diagnosed and was in treatment for cancer, but did not want to make it public until now. The reason he wanted to let us know was due to the fact it had spread significantly which meant he would be missing some days for more aggressive treatment and he anticipated there might be complications arising over time.

Soon after that announcement I found myself filling in for him more and more frequently as Chief. The last two weeks of my clinic duties he was not here due to catching a cold of some kind which had progressed to something more incapacitating. Today I read an e-mail from one of the other clinicians who had just visited him at his home and reported that he was doing very poorly. As I write this I am sitting in Dr. D’s chair surrounded by many of the things that made up his life: pictures, books, graduation certificates, a very old “Two Way” radio from General Electric, and multiple post-it notes with various reminders. Despite having terminal cancer he continued to do his job in a very stressful environment helping transition our clinic to a more efficient and effective place of treatment for the huge number of soldiers returning from deployments. He will be sorely missed.

“Lord, Jesus Christ, Who suffered and died for our sins that we may live, if during our life we have sinned in word, deed or thought forgive us in Your goodness and love. All our hope we put in You; protect your servant Dr. D from all evil. We submit to Your will and into Your hands we commend our souls and bodies. For a Christian end to our lives, peaceful, without shame and suffering, and for a good account before the awesome judgment seat of Christ, we pray to you O Lord. Bless us, be merciful to us and grant us life eternal. Amen.”

-from the Orthodox Prayer Book