Post by Mahnarch on Feb 11, 2009 1:07:20 GMT -5
Tonight I mourn the loss of my driver, my right hand man, my friend James' mother - aged 92.
We found out around 6pm tonight that she finally went into a short coma before succumbing to the cancer she's been fighting for the last two years.
I never met her. But, I've heard great, and not so great, things about her over the past few years.
She was a trooper.
All this aside: I'm pretty mad at James, tonight.
When I'd heard about it I sent James home - I tried to send James home.
He wouldn't hear of it.
He said he would drive to Port Huron (the other side of the state - 6 hours) tomorrow.
So, I gave him a few simple things to do around the warehouse as, I didn't want him driving a semi with this fresh news.
I had two other guys in my left pocket to cover his run.
Finally, James finishes the light work I gave him and I sent him home again, before I have to do my nightly run.
He agrees and gets into his car as I'm closing my trailer doors.
I leave.
4 hours later I come back.
.....James had fooled me...he stayed after I left.
Without his]/b] work to do, he finished some of mine (all that he knew how to do [loading trucks for the morning - but, no paperwork], anyway).
Stubborn Ol' Mule!
You only get one mother. Whether you know she's sick for a long time or not - when she passes, go home.
I'm not really mad at him.
If I were him, I'd do anything to keep my mind busy until I could do/be something/where.
Personally, whenever I hear of someone passing or hurt, the first thing I do is put my shoes on; even if it's been hours after the fact.
It's my thing. If I already have my shoes on, I feel like I have to put on another pair over my first ones. It's my fireman instinct.
I need to help that person and, if I can't, I pace around the house massaging my hands.
My family makes fun of me for this; "Better tell Doug to put his shoes on...." (only "laughing funny" years after the facts).
James leaves for Port Huron tomorrow morning at 5am.
I'll hug him when he gets back next Monday.
We found out around 6pm tonight that she finally went into a short coma before succumbing to the cancer she's been fighting for the last two years.
I never met her. But, I've heard great, and not so great, things about her over the past few years.
She was a trooper.
All this aside: I'm pretty mad at James, tonight.
When I'd heard about it I sent James home - I tried to send James home.
He wouldn't hear of it.
He said he would drive to Port Huron (the other side of the state - 6 hours) tomorrow.
So, I gave him a few simple things to do around the warehouse as, I didn't want him driving a semi with this fresh news.
I had two other guys in my left pocket to cover his run.
Finally, James finishes the light work I gave him and I sent him home again, before I have to do my nightly run.
He agrees and gets into his car as I'm closing my trailer doors.
I leave.
4 hours later I come back.
.....James had fooled me...he stayed after I left.
Without his]/b] work to do, he finished some of mine (all that he knew how to do [loading trucks for the morning - but, no paperwork], anyway).
Stubborn Ol' Mule!
You only get one mother. Whether you know she's sick for a long time or not - when she passes, go home.
I'm not really mad at him.
If I were him, I'd do anything to keep my mind busy until I could do/be something/where.
Personally, whenever I hear of someone passing or hurt, the first thing I do is put my shoes on; even if it's been hours after the fact.
It's my thing. If I already have my shoes on, I feel like I have to put on another pair over my first ones. It's my fireman instinct.
I need to help that person and, if I can't, I pace around the house massaging my hands.
My family makes fun of me for this; "Better tell Doug to put his shoes on...." (only "laughing funny" years after the facts).
James leaves for Port Huron tomorrow morning at 5am.
I'll hug him when he gets back next Monday.