Speaking of Mr M

from August 14

Which we weren’t, but here’s an update nonetheless.

Mr. M’s volunteer returned from her vacation, and I stopped visiting. Nothing against Mr M, I thought he was adorable, but I needed some time to take care of some business things, and I was running myself ragged. That, and his volunteer came back from vacation. Otherwise I would have kept going, of course.

A couple of weeks passed by, as weeks will, time which included the Great Northwest Heat Wave of 2009, a time which burnt out a few of my brain cells and left me, afterwards, stumbling about in a parody of myself as I tried to remember what I’d been doing before my only mission in life became survival.

And I thought of Mr M, and wondered how he was doing.

The other night charming husband and I drove up to a Starbucks with the intention of grabbing some sort of drink (for him) on our way home. And there out in front of Starbucks was, not Mr M, but the hospice chaplain.

“Charlean!” I squealed, in a paroxysm of joy. I like Charlean.

And Charlean had news for me. Mr M’s sisters had flown out from Boston to see him. In person! After years of being estranged from his family, isolated, homeless and alone out here, his sisters flew to see him. And now they’re looking into finding a facility in Boston to move Mr M too, and our hospice is willing to send someone along to help him get there, he being in the condition he’s in. One of Mr M’s sisters is a nurse, which is also fabulously helpful of course.

Isn’t that great? I am so happy that his sisters have so willingly accepted him back. I don’t know what happened between them before, and now, it doesn’t seem to have mattered. Maybe he just drifted away, as people will sometimes do. His son seems to be a bigger issue, but hopefully that’ll work out too. I hope so. Life’s too short, isn’t it?