As much as I tried to keep my mind occupied, there was no escaping the fact that today would have been Clyde’s 21st birthday. And yes — Clyde was a cat — but anyone who’s ever loved an animal knows they aren’t “just pets.” They’re routine. They’re comfort. Their presence. They’re family.
The fact that today was cold, rainy, and just flat-out miserable didn’t make it any easier. It felt like the kind of weather made for staying inside, listening to the quiet… and noticing who’s missing.
He’s been gone a little over two months now. And there are days I think things are getting a little easier. Then a memory pops into my head out of nowhere — the sound of him moving across the floor, the way he looked at me, the little habits he had — and it nearly drops me to my knees. Today was a good example of that.
Grief with a pet is strange. They’re woven into the smallest parts of your life. Feeding times. Favorite spots. Empty corners. You don’t realize how many pieces of your day belonged to them until they’re suddenly not there.
I used to think time was supposed to make this hurt less. I’m learning instead that time just teaches you how to carry it. Some days it’s light. Some days it’s heavy. And some days — like today — it feels like the full weight of 21 years.
So tonight, I’m letting myself miss him. I’m letting it be a tough day. Because Clyde wasn’t “just a cat.” He was a constant. A companion. A small life that left a huge space behind.
Happy 21st birthday, Clyde. You are still loved. And you are still missed.
It’s hard to believe, but I’m coming up on my 12th anniversary of being diagnosed with CML (Chronic Myeloid Leukemia). My most recent lab work showed my cancer as undetected—which is always good news… with an asterisk. In my case, “undetected” can be a little sneaky. It can be undetected on one visit and pop back out of range on the next. I wish I could tell you why there’s such a swing, but I don’t do anything differently from month to month. Same diet. Same routine. Same bad jokes. The only thing that really changes is what the numbers decide to do.
I will never forget the day I found out. Or the days leading up to it.
I had gone in for a routine six-month checkup when my GP called and asked me to come back in for more lab work because something looked “off.” Then on February 14, 2014—Valentine’s Day—my wife and I were getting ready to meet one of my daughter’s newest boyfriends. He was coming to pick her up for a high school date, and I was in the important stage of fatherhood known as trying to find the right words to mildly terrify a teenage boy.
That’s when my phone rang.
Keep in mind, this was late on a Friday afternoon, when most doctors’ offices are already mentally in their cars. The nurse told me my white blood cell count was extremely high and that they wanted me to see an oncologist.
At that moment, I had never heard the word “oncologist.” I didn’t know what kind of doctor that was.
During the phone call, my wife quietly looked it up and said, “Tim… that’s a cancer doctor.”
Needless to say, my carefully rehearsed intimidation speech for my daughter’s boyfriend completely left the building.
My appointment was scheduled for the following Tuesday at 10 a.m., which made that weekend the longest weekend of my life. A thousand scenarios ran through my head. I didn’t sleep much. I just wanted Tuesday to get there so I could talk to someone who actually knew what was going on.
Tuesday morning arrived with snow and ice. I kept calling the office. No answer. The hospital sat on top of a steep hill, and the road was iced over. No one was going up it, including me.
Later that day, the temperatures rose, someone finally answered, and my appointment was moved to 2 p.m.
I’ll never forget meeting my oncologist. He made a lasting impression. My wife decided that day she didn’t like him from the start.
I had a thousand questions loaded and ready. I opened my mouth to ask the first one. He held up a finger and said, “I’m talking. When I’m done, I’ll answer your questions.”
And just like that, I realized I was not in charge anymore.
He’s an older doctor, and sometimes I worry that one day I’ll walk in and find out he’s retiring. I’ve been with him nearly the whole time—nearly because there was one stretch when he tried to pawn me off on another doctor at another hospital because my numbers wouldn’t behave. But that’s a story for another time.
The time after my diagnosis was one of the darkest periods of my life. I slipped into a depression I had never known before. I truly thought CML was a death sentence. I was afraid to buy anything because I figured it would just have to be sold or given away. There were days I stayed home—not because I was sick, but because I didn’t want anyone to see me fall apart.
And honestly… at that time, I didn’t care.
Through some very serious conversations with my wife, my parents, and my oncologist, I slowly crawled my way out of that hole. It didn’t happen quickly. It didn’t happen neatly. But it happened.
They say laughter is the best medicine, and while my insurance company may disagree, I’ve found it to be pretty true. If you go back and read some of my early posts, you’ll notice they don’t carry the same humor as the ones I write now. There’s a reason for that.
I still have days when the weight hits harder than others. I still have moments of fear, frustration, and fatigue. But I’ve learned that sometimes it’s better to laugh at life’s situations than to let them crush you. Humor didn’t remove cancer from my life—but it did give me a way to live with it.
So here I am, almost twelve years in. Still showing up. Still rolling the dice on lab work. Still grateful for “undetected,” even when it comes with an asterisk. Still learning. Still stumbling. Still here. And still trying to laugh whenever possible… because some days, laughter is the only thing in the room that reminds you you’re still alive.
If you’re reading this and you’re walking through cancer, or any other terminal or life-altering diagnosis, let me tell you something I had to learn the hard way: don’t give up. Don’t give up on tomorrow. Don’t give up on joy. Don’t give up on the people who love you. And don’t give up on yourself.
There will be dark days. There will be scary appointments. There will be lab results that knock the wind out of you. But there will also be days you never thought you’d see. Conversations you didn’t think you’d have. Laughs, you didn’t think you were capable of anymore. Life doesn’t end when a diagnosis begins. It just changes.
Hold on. Ask questions. Lean on the people God has put in your life. Celebrate the good days. Endure the hard ones. And if all you can do on some days is get out of bed and breathe, then that is more than enough for that day.
Almost twelve years ago, I thought my story was coming to an end.
It turns out that it was just the beginning of a very different chapter.
And as long as there’s breath in your lungs, there is still a reason to keep turning the pages.
I wrote in my last post about how crazy our weather has been. Apparently, the weather department took that as a challenge.
Last night, it decided to toss in another curveball — a cold front pushing through, dragging thunderstorms along with it. We spent most of the day and evening under a tornado watch. By bedtime, we had already picked up nearly three inches of rain, and the storms were still rolling in. The thunder wasn’t rumbling anymore; it was auditioning for a demolition crew.
Before going to sleep, I set my phone alarm for 5:30 a.m. so I could get up and get ready for men’s Bible study at 8. Responsible. Mature. Clearly overconfident.
Sometime later, I heard an alarm and woke up. I didn’t question it. I just accepted my fate. I took a long, hot shower, shaved, got dressed, and headed to the kitchen. I started the coffee and even remember thinking, “Tracy should be getting up soon. It’s got to be around six.”
The first pod finished, and I glanced at the stove clock.
4:10 a.m.
I stared at it, waiting for it to blink and say “Just kidding.”
It didn’t.
I checked my watch. Same time. That’s when it hit me — I hadn’t been woken up by my phone alarm. I’d been summoned by the weather radio.
I sat down in my recliner with my coffee and pulled up the radar. Sure enough, the National Weather Service had issued a flash flood warning at 3:45 a.m. That alert was the “alarm” that launched me into full morning-person cosplay.
So there I was — clean, dressed, caffeinated, and absolutely betrayed — living in a time slot meant only for bakers, farmers, and people who lost a bet.
There was no going back to bed. And even if I tried, I’d probably sleep right through the real 5:30 alarm just to complete the joke.
Moral of the story: I don’t need an alarm clock. I need a personal meteorologist who knows when to mind his business.
I’m not sure about the rest of you, but I’m really looking forward to seeing what this new year will bring. Last year was challenging… but if you’ve read any of my posts, you already know when I say that, I mean “I’ve survived worse, and I’m still standing… mostly.”
The weather around here lately has been acting like one of my twin daughters staring at a menu she’s seen a hundred times. Same menu. Same choices. Still no decision. We haven’t seen the sun for any meaningful amount of time since New Year’s. The past couple of days, we’ve been under a heavy fog advisory with a misty rain added in, just in case anyone was feeling too cheerful.
And then there are the temperatures. Not long ago, we had lows in the teens and highs in the forties. Then, suddenly, the last two days decided to identify as spring — mid-seventies during the day and fifties at night. At this point, I don’t dress for the weather anymore. I just step outside and let it emotionally surprise me.
My friend and I decided to take advantage of this identity-crisis weather and go fishing.
I’ll admit, I was a little apprehensive. After my accidental plunge a few months back, my brain now treats water like it’s part of a criminal organization. Sure, the air was in the 70s, but the water temperature was still in the low 50s. Just imagine taking a dip in fifty-degree water. That’s not swimming — that’s a full-body system reboot.
We got to the creek around 8 a.m., and I didn’t catch my first fish until a little after 1. For five solid hours, I was throwing a lure another friend swears by. He told me he caught six fish on it last week. By noon, I was starting to think he either lied… or I’m not his favorite person. So I switched back to my old, reliable lure and, shockingly, the fish remembered who I was.
I hooked four fish and managed to get two of them into the kayak. Both were good ones, though. One was just under two pounds, and the other nearly three. Not bad, considering the fish and I had both been ignoring each other most of the day.
The last few times I’ve gone fishing, the wind has been absolutely brutal. And remember — I’m in a kayak. Wind in a kayak isn’t weather. It’s an unpaid CrossFit class. Yesterday, though, the wind never showed up. From about 8 a.m. until nearly 5 p.m., it was calm, quiet, and surprisingly peaceful.
No sun. No wind. A couple of decent fish. And I stayed in the boat the whole time.
I’m calling that a win.
I really hope and pray that everyone has a blessed year.
A shelf I built for the kitchen but ended up in the garage
Life has been so stressful lately and I guess I eat more when I’m stressed. I thought when I retired my life would be less stressful but lately, it hasn’t been the case. I’ve tried to stay on my diet but that hasn’t worked out so well. The good news is that I’m back on it and I’ve already lost six pounds. I’ve set mini goals and I’m about four pounds before I reach my first ten-pound mini-goal. My twin daughters will be graduating from college in May. They want to go on a cruise in June so this has given me an incentive to lose about twenty pounds before the trip. I really hope I can do it.
As I’ve stated last time I wrote, I had applied for Social Security disability. I had my hearing and I got a favorable decision. I’m still waiting on my backpay as well as my first check. This whole process has me concerned somewhat. I’m not surer If I can explain it or not but it makes me feel inferior or worthless. I’ve worked all my life and over thirty-two years at my last job, not they’re telling me that I can’t work. I feel like I can do something but I’ve got to be honest with myself, I do have trouble breathing when I do anything. No one will hire me at my age with all the issues that I have. So I guess I’ll just have to get over it.
The last two days have been dry and I’m glad it has because the few days before that it rained at least four inches in less than two days. The next four days we’re supposed to get at between six and seven more inches. There will be a lot of flooding and trees down. Let’s hope that the severe weather that is projected for Wednesday is not too bad.
Tomorrow will be a hard day for me. One of my friends worked for Kimberly Police department and was shot and killed the other day while on duty. He will be buried tomorrow. If you’re a praying person please pray for Nick O’Rear’s family.
It’s spring down here in the deep south. At least for now. Cooler temps along with some rain expected next week. For those that are keeping up, my to-do list is slowly getting shorter; and I do mean slowly. Being that the weather has turned a little warmer, I’ve taken advantage of it and I’ve been doing a lot of work outside. My back yard is slowly showing itself again. I’ve spent several days cutting Privet and dragging the limbs to the street. My back yard has a slight incline so after cutting the limbs I have to climb this incline so I’m easily winded and I have to take a lot of breaks. A person in good health would have already finished with this project and moved on but it’s taking me a little while longer. I’m still not finished with it. The limb collector only picks up once every other week so I don’t want a pile of limbs just sitting there waiting to be picked up. So, I’ve been working on doing some painting in the meantime.
Like I’ve stated on an earlier post, I’ve started using a task list to help me stay on target. I must say that it’s making a huge difference. The weather has a lot to do with what task I work on but as long as the weather stays nice for a few days I’m able to get quite a bit accomplished. If the weather is cold or rainy I’ll stay inside and concentrate on doing some housework or do some woodworking projects.
Cooking has always been something I like doing so since I’ve retired I make it a point to help the wife with the cooking. When both of us worked, it was difficult for my wife to create dishes that were both healthy and quick. She is tired most days when she gets home so her choices for dinner was usually something unhealthy. Now that I’ve retired, I do most of the cooking during the week. I do a lot of grilling, very little frying and some slow cooking in my crockpot. Most of the items I cook is new to both me and my wife so it’s made dinner very interesting.
As I write this, we are experiencing a severe thunderstorm. This system has caused several tornado’s in the state of Mississippi but has weakened during its path over to our neck of the woods, in which I’m very thankful for. Looks like it may be a wet Saturday for us.
My cat, Clyde, hates thunderstorms and is sitting next to me on the floor looking for protection. He’s not a lap cat and hates to be picked up and will not sit with you or me or anyone else as far as that goes. But during storms, he seeks my protection and my protection only. He just heard a loud clap of thunder and off he goes behind my bed. He will not return until all is quiet again. Funny, cowardly cat.
Not much reaction to my video that I posted the other day. I guess that might my last one. I don’t know, I may try one more to see how it goes. I’ll give it some time though.
After I made the video, I went back to youtube and watched some video’s from the Leukemia Society. They had posted several videos of patients with CML as they described their weeks up to being diagnosed. They included bruising, Feeling tired all the time, headaches and wanting to sleep all the time. I never experienced any of that. On one video, the guy was saying that when he was diagnosed back in 2014, his white blood count was over 260. Mine was caught before it got that high. At the time of diagnoses, mine had gotten as high as 138. Maybe that’s the reason I didn’t experience any of the side effects; my numbers just wasn’t as high as his. I also read that one lady, who also was diagnosed in 2014, got her numbers down and was taken off all of her meds. She still get’s tested every six months but she no longer takes meds for her CML. That’s encouraging.
I hope everyone has a chance to get out and enjoys the weekend.
The weather here in the deep south has been less than perfect for bike riding for me. The last two days it’s been a rainy, dreary day. Today the temperature hardly rose above the mid 50’s mark. Tomorrow is forcasted to be warmer but not until mid afternoon. My plan is to either get a twenty mile in on Saturday or wait until Sunday when I should have more time.
My last ride broke the 100 mile mark. That’s pretty good considering that only six months ago I was considering selling my bike because of my health. I’m looking forward to much healther days along with miles and miles of riding.
Thankfully we were spared most of the damage. We had 200 road closures throughout the state either by flooding or by the roads being washed out. We had two tornados hit within miles of where we live and although there is still an ongoing search for some missing people, there hasn’t been any confirmed fatalities and I’m praying that they are found alive.
We’ve had two tornadoes that were in close proximities of where we live. One in 1998 and the other in 2011. The one in ’98 hit a town not far from us and traveled to within a mile to the left of us. There were over 30 fatalities and hundreds of homes destroyed. The other was in 2011 with 13 dead and again, hundreds of homes destroyed. This one hit within a half mile to the right of us and practically destroyed the city in which I live in. I might add that in both cases I was not at home at the time the tornadoes hit. The first, I was in a night class not far from home. The other, I was with my son on a band trip headed toward Orlando Florida. Both times I left my wife alone with either one kid or alone with two girls. Either time was difficult for me to get over.
I woke up to the sound of thunder this morning. As I lay in bed trying to go back to sleep I could hear the rain as it hit the damaged gutter we have out back. It was a steady rain, not too hard but at least the weather wasn’t supposed to get bad today. Or so I thought.
For the first time in many years I got up before the kids did. I woke up with a headache so I went to the kitchen and grabbed some pain killer. As I walked passed the front door I noticed that the streets were wet and was still raining a good bit.
Once the kids got up we had our Christmas, had our breakfast, everyone had their showers, got dressed and out the door to the in laws. Once we got to the in laws the rain had stopped but it was only for a short time. As we were leaving the in laws the clouds had darkened and thunder could be heard in the distance. We hadn’t made it home but just a few minutes when we heard the tornado sirens going off in the distance. Seriously? The weather radio was soon going off and downstairs we went into our safe place.
Since then it’s been nothing but wide spread flooding, roads being washed away and people being rescued. It’s been the wettest Christmas I can ever remember. Rain is in the forecast for the next several days. We probably won’t dry out until sometime next year.
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