My friend Ralphie Tebbe died on Saturday morning, exactly one week after his first stroke. It is scary to think it was so fast from beginning to end. Diane, who now calls herself the Widow Tebbe, is bouncing between lucid moments and hyper moments.
If I were in her shoes at this moment, I would not have many lucid moments.
She told me today that they had just come back from spending her birthday in their beloved Smokey Mountains. Their goal was to retire there. He loved his kitties too, they always had 3 or 5 around underfoot. So I will send some money to the cats in his memory. And an hydrangea will be delivered to the funeral home tomorrow. They loved to putter on their property and care for the plants.
They will have an Irish Toast for him on Tuesday night, I am still debating if I will go or not. Of course Frank is out of town and it is about an hour and a half away. Not sure I want to be driving by myself at night. I will decide that tomorrow.
glen: sleep, my sweet friend, sleep the sleep of the good.