Nellie Moser

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Chernobyl got his name from Andris Grundstiens, the Latvian owner of an apartment I rented in Chicago. Chernobyl had six toes… I came to call him Noble more often than not or Noblissimo or Nellie Moser.

When I left Chicago he came with me.

He was a huge Jerk when I first met him and retained the ability to transform into a huge Jerk all of his life. On one overnight visit to the vet the vet tech told me “That is the meanest cat we have ever had in here.” Immediately after this he met me with a trill and a loving nuzzle.

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Patres Familias

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<((Extended Family))>

My new Brother in law, Sergej Trifonov is a fantastic guy. He married my wife’s sister Jekaterina Bojarkina on august 8th, 2009 in Visaginas Lithuania. The wedding was idyllic; the weather was gorgeous, the guests enjoyed themselves thoroughly and the bride, whom I am really fond of because she is a great person, told me it was the best day of her life. I could not be happier for them as they seem to complete one another in a wonderful way.

Sergej is a furniture maker and carpenter in his own right. He is smart and resourceful and I am happy to say one day soon will be joining us here in the states. Sergej and I have decided to combine our talents in the family business. The burgeoning Junction Home Services will expand its horizons to include built in and stand alone furniture. We are very excited and will keep you posted.

<((A Wedding and a Funeral))>

A couple of days back I wrote about a frightening incident where my wife was choking uncontrollably. As the incident occurred a day or so after the Bojarkina/Trifonov wedding my wife told me that as blackness closed in around her the saying crossed her mind “A wedding and a Funeral”. Today that saying came true with the death of my father in laws father in Kazakhstan. My deepest condolences to Yuri and the entire Bojarkin family. I never made it to Kazakhstan to meet father Bojarkin but I heard his voice just last week as skype made the other side of the world sound like the other side of town. My own father told me the other day at the hospital that he had gone to have a spot on his lung biopsied and that he will not have results for nine days. Our future points at the compass, the calendar and clock and whispers: “ready or not, here I come.”

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Nuclear Family

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Four people in a hospital room are the closest of relatives. It is the first time they have been alone together in more than a quarter century. There is plenty to say and avoid. 

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The view outside the window is 4 stories of solid brick wall. 

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I bring up the pony which get’s my father into trouble. I tell him if he wants to get me back he should bring up the rabbit. 

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Mom says that we kids got all of our good traits from her and our bad from him. Dad says he believes she might be right. 

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My sister calls him daddy and I call them Ma’ and Pop respectively embracing my inner Jersey. 

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For the first time in 35 years there is nothing wrong with this picture. Everything is as it seems. It is a perfect moment and no matter what happens next I will eagerly add this snapshot to my album.

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Back to Dover

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Yesterday my sister had excruciating pain in the area of her appendix. She visited her doctor who arranged an appointment for Wednesday with a surgeon. The pain failed to subside and she was taken to the emergency room. By 4 in the morning they had operated on her for acute appendicitis.

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Several years back, while building my first house, I noticed that almost every morning in the beach resort town of Ocean View, Delaware there was some form of emergency that sent sirens wailing off into the bright morning sun. I imagined a myriad of possible emergencies playing out under a deep blue summer sky. I imagined the Jaws of Life peeling open a car and letting in the smell of tanning lotion.

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I remember the first time I realized just how fast an accident happened. It was like an amazing glimpse into the nature of time. Suddenly, I understood something about being alive that I had never known before; Time is different for each of us.

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While in Lithuania I went to our guest room in my in laws apartment and lay down. The trip had been exhausting and my body had yet to catch up with me. As the fog of sleep fell, I heard in the distance my wife choking uncontrollably. I raced to the kitchen to find her mother striking her back and P. buckled over convulsing. I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her. The crepe that had caused the irritation dislodged itself. Last night she told me that during the episode everything had begun to go black. In her solitary time of emergency she had mused that it was somehow fitting that she had traveled all the way across the ocean, back to her hometown, to die in her childhood kitchen.  

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