Family

As the six month anniversary of her passing came upon me, I told myself that I would sit before this keyboard and write of how I felt — about what it’s like to have a friend of thirteen years ripped away without much of a warning.

But I can’t — I can’t decide if it’s because I lack the courage to write what I feel in my heart or if it’s because I still can’t put it into words.

Last night, I was sitting on the couch watching some television when I caught a faint movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a white object about the height of her ears would be if she was waltzing through the living room to join me on the couch.

But, of course, it wasn’t.

It was just a piece of paper being blown across the room from the fan.

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wonder where she is — even in bed sometimes, my mind tells me there’s a shuffling at the foot of the bed, and I’ll think it’s her cleaning.

And then I’ll remember that she’s gone.

I still mourn her.

I suppose that I always will.

Earlier this morning, around 2:10am, my beloved thirteen year old cat Galadriel passed away.

She had become ill this past weekend and spent a few days with the wonderful staff of the University of Minnesota Veterinary Medical Center where she received fantastic care. I was able to bring her home two days ago and spend some good quality time with her… I’m glad that she was able to come home as her passing was somewhat unexpected.

Miss G came into my life as a six week old kitten when I was just a junior in college at Indiana University. A co-worker of mine at Target in Columbus, Indiana, where I was working at the time, had a cat who had just birthed a litter of kittens – and one of them was Galadriel. Ever since she was a little runt kitten that could almost fit in the palm of my hand, she’s been with me.

We’ve lived together in Indiana, Maryland, Ohio, Massachusetts, and now Minnesota. Thirteen years, five states, four apartments, and two houses – she’s been the only pet that I’ve ever had as an adult.

She was named for the Tolkien character Galadriel, a female elf who lived in the woods of Lothlórien. I had named her long before the Lord of the Rings movies made her character as well known.

In the movie, Galadriel was played by Cate Blanchett who created a hauntingly beautiful vision of Galadriel.

To me, that’s what she was. Beautiful.

She is going to be incredibly missed.

Friday night I took a spill down the stairs after tripping over my own damn feet. Having caught my big toe on the way down and bending it in a way that it wasn’t meant to be, I was startled to find when I landed that my toe didn’t feel so hot.

Being the stubborn male that I am, I thought I had merely sprained it. So some ice here and there, foot up in the air for a day on the coffee table. After all, I was getting around pretty well…

Worked from home yesterday (a highly productive day, mind you, more so than most) and then made the trek into work today for a full day.

Big mistake.

More foot pain and a larger bruise by mid-day.

By 1:00pm I’d had enough – went home and off we trekked to the ER.

Quick service, only an hour, X-Rays and all…

Spiral fracture of the “great toe”.

Great toe.. because big isn’t good enough.

In Texas for the sidekick’s sister’s wedding on Saturday. First vacation in quite awhile that wasn’t related to packing, unpacking, preparing the house for sale, or moving in. And yay for that.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post called “Oh WTF.. you deserve what you get..”, now that some time has passed I can tell the story.

My father is probably the most honorable man that I have ever known. One of the middle children of his parents, he grew up in a small town in Indiana with two older half brothers, an older brother, a younger brother, and a younger sister. To say that this family was a bit dysfunctional is an understatement. Although overtime all have reconciled, my father was the only one of his full siblings to lead a straight and narrow life. An Eagle Scout, he was never arrested, never served time in jail, no drugs, and doesn’t abuse alcohol. His siblings are a different story, but that’s for another time.

My father joined the Navy during Vietnam shortly after high school – during that time he lost friends, his father died from a heart attack at a young age, and became a man. After getting out of the Navy, he married my mother, began working on the railroad, and shortly thereafter had me.. then my brother, and life was good.

The railroad is a heavily unionized work environment. My father, as a member of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers, went out on strike a few times while I was growing up. And that was the nature of the labor environment at his place of employment.

Men of honor are often natural leaders – and thus it is that over time my father became President of the local park board, the founding scoutmaster of my Boy Scout Troop, and eventually Local Chairman (the same as Local President in most unions) of Division 100 of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers, a position he held for well over a decade. As time went on, he began to run for and win election to higher office within the union – eventually serving on several committees at a regional (or general committee) level.

It’s important to note here that the BLE is the oldest labor union in the United States – they are well into their second century and predate every other labor organization in the United States – even the Teamsters. The BLE merged with the Teamsters a few years back but remain a semi-autonomous group under the Teamsters umbrella…..

In 1997, with my brother out of high school and on his own, and me established in Baltimore in my first major move away from home after college – my father ran for Vice General Chairman & Secretary Treasurer and won. This office represents the entire Midwest and my father would be responsible for the finances for all of the offices and men in that area – a huge responsibility.

The responsibility was even greater at the time because the union was rocked by scandal. While I won’t go too far into the details here, suffice to say that there was a large sum of money missing, and after a federal and a union investigation, the International President asked the officeholders in the General Committee office to resign. They did, and we all thought that was the last we had seen of them.

A few weeks ago, my father ran for re-election for the third time. This last term would have taken him past his retirement date, and his intent was to serve out of term and retire.

His tenure through two terms has been nothing short of a great success. The union has significant cash resources – rebuilt after the scandal. Their bookkeeping and records have been immaculate and without error – and more important my father represented the interests of his men in fulfillment of the measure of trust that men place in those that represent and lead them.

And then, at the election, the man that had been at the helm during the scandal ran for the top job in the office and won. And then his crony won the number two slot. And then the election for my father’s job deadlocked twice.

The next morning he lost.

And so my parents, after nine years in Florida, are headed back to our family home in Indiana – my father to return to running an engine until his retirement in a few years. And thus our lives go on.

After the other two were elected, we all acknowledge now that it is best that he lost – because a person of my father’s integrity simply can’t work with those who long ago lost the trust of the men that they represent. But it still stings for him to go out this way.

I think about the times that I’ve seen my father upset to the point of tears. At my uncle’s funeral.. at the funerals of my mother’s parents and that’s it.. until this election.

So at this point they turn their backs on this whole union experience – and let the corrupt idiots have their way. But if I was a member represented by that office, I’d be watching the money.