Florida: 1

The past two years have brought event-like trips, and with them a series of bloggings that apparently some people like to read.  I don't know, I suppose there's some value in documenting the adventures of this fair family.  Or perhaps more accurately, the meanderings of my mind.  

But this year offers no such trip.  Yet, there is plenty of travel to come.  So what is this weekend blogger supposed to do?  And what of that devoted following?  Well, if thirty out-of-order thoughts weren't different enough, I thought I'd veer in a completely different direction this year and simplify.  And by simplify I mean documenting all the travel for the year.

It seems an inauspicious start to begin the year with a trip that didn't happen.  It might happen.  But, just not right now.  

As you might have guessed from the title, I was supposed to go to Florida.  Just myself.  No fellow travelers.  And for a singular purpose: Papa Doug.  Ooh, that seems so heavy seeing that there in type.  Frankly, that's probably apropos.  

I'd rather not spend 2000 words rehashing the past two weeks leading up to this, but context is necessary.  Papa Doug of course is dying.  It's been this way for five months since he was diagnosed with acute leukemia back in August.  But of recent, things are worse.  Or so I've been told.  But, are they really?  

Well, if they are, I felt a strong desire that I should go see him.  But, I'm not.  I'm sitting here writing instead, mostly trying to figure out what the hell is going on.  Both with him, and with me.  

After getting the Heisman those closest to him, I eventually retreated and raised the white flag.  Instead of getting on a plane this afternoon for a quick, weekend, trip down to Naples, I threw up my arms and said "fine, if no one wants me there, I'm not coming."  My dad has recommended I don't come, he won't tell Nana because he's afraid she'll flip out and in no such uncertain terms, Papa Doug doesn't want to see any of his grandchildren.  It's complicated.

I could on about why, but I want to get to the crux of the matter.  I'm no psychologist, but man, it seems he's one angry dude.  Or afraid.  Or completely out of his element...which makes him afraid...which makes him angry.  Seems like a vicious cycle that has led him to not wanting to see his grandkids and get crabby (to put it kindly) with his kids and generally pissing people off.  

But what of it.  Why should I care?  I suppose I should care because he's my grandfather.  The only one I have left, and as the end nears, the time I have left to spend with him lessens.  But then again, this isn't a man who I've spend some grand amount of time with in my life.  I certainly have a lot to thank him for, but no different than any of my grandparents, I've never developed any sort of deep relationship with him.  So, will I be sad when he goes?  Sure, but the time comes for everyone and he's led a pretty full life.  

So, again, why would I want to see him now.  Some seem to think it's to say goodbye.  I'm not so sure.  It's never struck me that I want to walk into his room at the nursing home and make peace with the situation with some parting words.  I'm not sure what I'd say anyway, and I'm not sure what use saying "good-bye" would do anyway.

What I keep coming back to is just sitting there talking to him.  It's been something I've enjoyed since moving back to Minnesota several years ago and having the opportunity to hang out at his pool and shooting the breeze.  His stories are great and he's been through so much that there's never any shortage of things to learn.  So what would I do with one last time.  Or do I even think about it as "one last time."  Maybe I do in the sense that I might not see him again.  But I don't in the sense that my intention isn't to say good-bye.  

Be that as it may, he's not making this easy.  In fact, I've decided he's making this hard.  He's pushing people away and pissing people off.  Any correspondence with my dad is full of frustration and anecdotes of Papa wanting this to end yesterday.  And if Doug doesn't want anyone to see him, and gets snipping with those who do, why would he be any different with me.  And if not any different, what kind of conversation would I get out of him.  

But, being of his lineage, I think I'm different.  I have this small thought that I can somehow break through.  Arrogance is like that you know.  

What do I do?  This trip has come and gone, so there's no immediacy.  Except that he might die tomorrow.  I think I'm sick of trying to coordinate this with anybody down in Florida.  There's too much baggage, frustration, heartache and whatever else is making everyone tell me not to come.  If it happens, it's got to be on my own.  And for my own reasons.