Magical Quiet and Deep Sadness

Yesterday in that magical quiet time between when my family peeps have headed off to school & work and while my work peeps are driving in, I had my hot glue gun out heating up. A small little fun project before starting into the thick of it.

I was checking a few e-mails and heard what I mistook for gunshots. Coming from behind me.

I jerked around in time to see the fan/light turn off. Smelled that lovely little ozone smell and thought WTF!!!

A phone call to THE MAN assured me if I left the breaker off all day that nothing bad would happen and we could figure out exactly what almost caused a fire later.

Around 10am the house phone ran again.

In a small voice THE MAN told me that Joe had passed. Not much else to say except I love you and are you OK and all that.

The rest of the day was a bit of hell after that. I mean, he had been sick for ages and ages. We knew they were holding out hope his family would make it home for Easter and one last visit.

It's still bullshit. And I hate the cancer that ate him and took him away from us.

He was my Dad's age and one of those people that was an endless source of awesome knowledge and just plain cool. He was one of those major figures growing up in THE MAN'S life and then mine later as I have known him since senior year in high school.

I made a layout of just Joe back in early February because I had heard he was on a natural treatment that seemed to be helping. It was a small little ray of hope.

I think I will give my page to Marilyn when I see her this next week. I kept writing my blog some days just for her. She has been playing nurse for Joe and said that she read my blog in the early morning quiet and it made her happy.

See, Marilyn is a world class crafter/artist. Not one in blogland, but in real life. You give her some art supplies and a few minutes and you are ending up with something cool. Might be a scrapbook page, might be a glass ornament, might be something painted. She had the attic of her house wired up with great lighting and a black and white tiled floor. Joe made that for her to she could work.

See, Joe was an electrician. Worked with wires and electricity all the time.

When THE MAN came home, he used a tester that Joe had given him and shown him how to use to diagnose my problem.

Hot glue gun had short circuited.

I think it was Joe's spirit flying in for one last little goodbye.