Roz Brown, 1962 I’m sitting here looking at a photograph in the “album of childhood memories” my mother collected and sent to me 40 years ago, a permanent reminder that she often had good intentions, though her execution wasn’t the best. There are two women on a brick front porch of an older house, on their knees holding up two very young babies who obviously are too young to stand on their own. A boy and a girl. They’re smiling at the camera, neither exactly certain what’s happening.
This has been a day of love, memories and sadness for you Tom. I was reading about lies in politics; American fascism; how the communications revolution feeds into it all, including the extreme, right Republican fringe undoing of the House of Representatives this week. Looking up at my computer screen, I saw THE NEWS YOU HATE TO HEAR. More communication, this time a piece more human and personal than what I had been reading.
Your mother and I thought of my mother. Your oldest friend and I thought of my mother. Roz has Alzheimer's Disease, so did my mother. No good reason to say where else my mind went.
I have returned to be with you, Tom. You are dear, very dear. Thank you for coming here tonight. Thank you for being with us. Our hearts of full of love for you and Jurate.
I am sorry about Roz, TC. It's a good thing you two reconnected. Sometimes, life just sucks, like when one of my lifelong friends didn't wake up one June morning. He was literally a pillar of the community, and funny as all get out. He was such a positive person, and now his wife, a dear friend is making her way without the love of her life. Sometimes life just sucks.
I am so sorry Tom. I hold you in my heart. All of the day to day crap goes on as it always will. But the people we hold dear to us are what really matters and makes us whole. In my profession I’ve seen the heartbreak of Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s. The full impact didn’t hit me until experiencing them with my family. My brother-in-law has Parkinson’s, and my Mom has Alzheimer’s. Mom remembers that I’m a nurse but not always that I’m her daughter. I’m with you on the god BS. And since I’m not great with words I will let George Carlin speak for me. Take care Tom and give Jurate a hug for me, even though she doesn’t know me, I’m more real than the guy in the sky.
“But I want you to know something, this is sincere, I want you to know, when it comes to believing in God, I really tried. I really, really tried. I tried to believe that there is a God, who created each of us in His own image and likeness, loves us very much, and keeps a close eye on things. I really tried to believe that, but I gotta tell you, the longer you live, the more you look around, the more you realize, something is fucked up.
Something is wrong here. War, disease, death, destruction, hunger, filth, poverty, torture, crime, corruption, and the Ice Capades. Something is definitely wrong. This is not good work. If this is the best God can do, I am not impressed. Results like these do not belong on the résumé of a Supreme Being. This is the kind of shit you’d expect from an office temp with a bad attitude. And just between you and me, in any decently-run universe, this guy would’ve been out on his all-powerful ass a long time ago. And by the way, I say “this guy”, because I firmly believe, looking at these results, that if there is a God, it has to be a man.
No woman could or would ever fuck things up like this. So, if there is a God, I think most reasonable people might agree that he’s at least incompetent, and maybe, just maybe, doesn’t give a shit. Doesn’t give a shit, which I admire in a person, and which would explain a lot of these bad results.”
I too have felt the deep pain and burning anger that brought you to write, “I know there is no ‘loving god.’ If there is a god, he’s a sick fucking insane psychopath who likes to stick pins in people just to get off on being a sick fuck.” My heart goes out to you, Tom.
Damn that really sucks, I’m sorry your burden just got a little heavier, after the crazy week we just witnessed, that was probably the last thing you needed. Your steadfast attitude inspires me Tom, and I know that I’m not alone, my guess is that most of us that take the time to read and comment on all of these different substack posts are inspiring others, I hear that from friends. So I think it’s important that you share your truth, it’s like a stone thrown into a still pond, it’s ripples continue long after the stone has found the bottom, they may be subtle but they are there if you look. I too find the idea of prayers to be a hollow platitude but not my thoughts 💭, know that you are in my thoughts 🙏
💔 Oh, TC. What an honor? To become the memory, the place holder and the diarist for another, for a childhood friend and for a wife. An honor in one way. A huge responsibility as you get to create the tapestries that others get to see, to rely upon in order to recall, and to keep each of those lives alive and true in other's memories for a few more years. You will do this well, I think. Not sure many of us would volunteer to do so as fewer of us have the skills and empathy needed to do so. Roz and Juarte are fortunate in you.
Understand that. Privilege, was another term given how rarely those who try feel they succeed but do not walk away or regret having invested the time and personal energy to be the living memory. TC's writings suggest he is one of those rare talents to succeed.
Thank you TC for sharing the wonderful story of Roz's connections and reconnections with you -- what a creative and adventurous person-- as only you can tell stories. Wonderful that a you reconnected. So important to renew those old links, no matter how old we are. Her loss, and your need to remember for her, is part of the human journey, sad though it may be. I feel your pain and loss, having been along this path with others and my late wife (Lewy bodies). I have said more than once, that we are here to help each other get through life. You are the memory that will "get Roz through"--but you'll do more than get her through---you will enfold her with love and with memory. Be strong (which is more easily said than done some times). Love to you, Jurate, Roz, and, of course, the cats this evening.
Michael Peter Smith wrote a song called The Dutchman, it's about a senile man whose wife, Margaret, remembers his life for him and reminds him of it out of her love for him. Part of the chorus:
"Long ago, I used to be a young man
And dear Margaret remembers that for me"
Remember for your friend.
My dearest friend, whom I cannot remember not knowing, died last year. She loved music and she was the one who brought The Dutchman to me. I miss her like the dickens and regularly find myself thinking that I want to share something or other with her, but then I remember that she is gone. It's jolting. I'm so sorry your friend is slipping away. Love her and share with her as long as you can.
P.S. One of my children has been living in Walsenburg for a few years. Small world.
Advice to female readers. Never have mascara on when you read TC. So much touches the hearts of those whose hearts have not turned to stone.
I had such a friend, had not seen him in 44 years, but when he found me and asked if we could be friends again, it was like we had talked yesterday. I still grieve his death after seven years. It is indeed a different kind of friendship.
Having just buried the best man I have ever known, after caring for him for the 15 years he suffered from Alzheimer’s, there are no words of comfort. I’m sure you already know that. Thank you for sharing this grievous news and the story behind it with us and the world. Such stories matter, such connections matter…
I can not speak for a God I have not met. I don't think this has anything to do with a God. I know this is very personal, I miss my Dad terribly. He hasn't been gone that long, but I was losing him years before he died. I would love to have one more conversation, even if he continued the same loop over, and over, until I asked him a question that led him down another favorite story. You see TC, this is about you, and your loving nature, not a lesson you need to learn. You have already learned the lesson. I have only been reading you few weeks. What kind of man goes to an animal shelter looking for a Stray that is not his lost pet, but rather, a cat that he had seen homeless in his yard.
This kind heart you have managed to keep open and giving, is what this is all about. You bring more solace than a God that may, or may not exist. There is love, or there is fear. You are one of the bravest people I have ever come across in this space of, life in little boxes. Rest, and take care
As someone once told me, "life sucks and then you die". I wish I could remember more of the context to that statement, but I grew up remembering only punch lines. I'm sorry about Roz. Having a faulty memory is bad enough. Knowing that you might lose it all has got to be hard for everyone.
In a way I'm sorry about God too. I get where you & George Carlin & others are coming from and at times I'm envious of those true believers.
Hugs to you TC. Take care of yourself as well as you take care of others.
I used to be envious of those “true believers,” No more, after this current crop has told us what most were all along. I won’t paint all with the same brush, but Dorian Gray seems to be the picture.
TC, I’m feeling lucky. My husband had dementia, not Alzheimer’s. But it’s so hard to see a man who had a patent for the cryogenic fuel lines to the Atlas missile not be able to install a windshield wiper on a car. Thinking of memories, I will say that in remembering for Roz and your wife, you also are remembering your life. It’s so important to remember the WE -- for both of you -- that were a part of any particular memory. I do have faith that there is some sort of higher power that we humans have named God. I just don’t believe that that higher power has any say in what happens in our lives. I can’t believe in a God that “knows how much pain we can bear”!
Hugs and love to you, your wife, and Roz. Personally, I believe the people that form this community and those that surround you in life form the God that supports you and loves you.
I am so sorry, TC, for Roz and for you and for your beautiful wife. At this stage of life there is just more loss than we can sometimes bear. I like that you shared these memories here. Now that we know a little about her we can remember Roz along with you. My two best women friends no longer know me because of Alzheimers. Like you, I feel it is my privilege and responsibility to carry them along with me in life through my memories of them.. Thank you, TC. You are a gifted writer.
This has been a day of love, memories and sadness for you Tom. I was reading about lies in politics; American fascism; how the communications revolution feeds into it all, including the extreme, right Republican fringe undoing of the House of Representatives this week. Looking up at my computer screen, I saw THE NEWS YOU HATE TO HEAR. More communication, this time a piece more human and personal than what I had been reading.
Your mother and I thought of my mother. Your oldest friend and I thought of my mother. Roz has Alzheimer's Disease, so did my mother. No good reason to say where else my mind went.
I have returned to be with you, Tom. You are dear, very dear. Thank you for coming here tonight. Thank you for being with us. Our hearts of full of love for you and Jurate.
Thank you, Fern.
I am sorry about Roz, TC. It's a good thing you two reconnected. Sometimes, life just sucks, like when one of my lifelong friends didn't wake up one June morning. He was literally a pillar of the community, and funny as all get out. He was such a positive person, and now his wife, a dear friend is making her way without the love of her life. Sometimes life just sucks.
It does.
In the Quaker manner, I hold Roz - and you - in the Light. I really do…….
Thank you.
Alzheimer’s is a fucking thief. It takes all the valuable “stuff” and trashes things on the way out. I’m so sorry this is happening to Roz, TC.
Exactly right.
I am so sorry Tom. I hold you in my heart. All of the day to day crap goes on as it always will. But the people we hold dear to us are what really matters and makes us whole. In my profession I’ve seen the heartbreak of Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s. The full impact didn’t hit me until experiencing them with my family. My brother-in-law has Parkinson’s, and my Mom has Alzheimer’s. Mom remembers that I’m a nurse but not always that I’m her daughter. I’m with you on the god BS. And since I’m not great with words I will let George Carlin speak for me. Take care Tom and give Jurate a hug for me, even though she doesn’t know me, I’m more real than the guy in the sky.
“But I want you to know something, this is sincere, I want you to know, when it comes to believing in God, I really tried. I really, really tried. I tried to believe that there is a God, who created each of us in His own image and likeness, loves us very much, and keeps a close eye on things. I really tried to believe that, but I gotta tell you, the longer you live, the more you look around, the more you realize, something is fucked up.
Something is wrong here. War, disease, death, destruction, hunger, filth, poverty, torture, crime, corruption, and the Ice Capades. Something is definitely wrong. This is not good work. If this is the best God can do, I am not impressed. Results like these do not belong on the résumé of a Supreme Being. This is the kind of shit you’d expect from an office temp with a bad attitude. And just between you and me, in any decently-run universe, this guy would’ve been out on his all-powerful ass a long time ago. And by the way, I say “this guy”, because I firmly believe, looking at these results, that if there is a God, it has to be a man.
No woman could or would ever fuck things up like this. So, if there is a God, I think most reasonable people might agree that he’s at least incompetent, and maybe, just maybe, doesn’t give a shit. Doesn’t give a shit, which I admire in a person, and which would explain a lot of these bad results.”
Carlin as always is great and right on. Thanks!
Good luck to you with what you face in your family.
Thank you so much, and my best to you as well.
I too have felt the deep pain and burning anger that brought you to write, “I know there is no ‘loving god.’ If there is a god, he’s a sick fucking insane psychopath who likes to stick pins in people just to get off on being a sick fuck.” My heart goes out to you, Tom.
Damn that really sucks, I’m sorry your burden just got a little heavier, after the crazy week we just witnessed, that was probably the last thing you needed. Your steadfast attitude inspires me Tom, and I know that I’m not alone, my guess is that most of us that take the time to read and comment on all of these different substack posts are inspiring others, I hear that from friends. So I think it’s important that you share your truth, it’s like a stone thrown into a still pond, it’s ripples continue long after the stone has found the bottom, they may be subtle but they are there if you look. I too find the idea of prayers to be a hollow platitude but not my thoughts 💭, know that you are in my thoughts 🙏
Thanks for the thoughts Dick.
Your participation is inspirational to others, many times even me.
💔 Oh, TC. What an honor? To become the memory, the place holder and the diarist for another, for a childhood friend and for a wife. An honor in one way. A huge responsibility as you get to create the tapestries that others get to see, to rely upon in order to recall, and to keep each of those lives alive and true in other's memories for a few more years. You will do this well, I think. Not sure many of us would volunteer to do so as fewer of us have the skills and empathy needed to do so. Roz and Juarte are fortunate in you.
What a wonderful way to view these trials. Thank you.
I always had trouble with people calling it an honor. It is hell, but it’s where I chose to be
Understand that. Privilege, was another term given how rarely those who try feel they succeed but do not walk away or regret having invested the time and personal energy to be the living memory. TC's writings suggest he is one of those rare talents to succeed.
Thank you TC for sharing the wonderful story of Roz's connections and reconnections with you -- what a creative and adventurous person-- as only you can tell stories. Wonderful that a you reconnected. So important to renew those old links, no matter how old we are. Her loss, and your need to remember for her, is part of the human journey, sad though it may be. I feel your pain and loss, having been along this path with others and my late wife (Lewy bodies). I have said more than once, that we are here to help each other get through life. You are the memory that will "get Roz through"--but you'll do more than get her through---you will enfold her with love and with memory. Be strong (which is more easily said than done some times). Love to you, Jurate, Roz, and, of course, the cats this evening.
Michael Peter Smith wrote a song called The Dutchman, it's about a senile man whose wife, Margaret, remembers his life for him and reminds him of it out of her love for him. Part of the chorus:
"Long ago, I used to be a young man
And dear Margaret remembers that for me"
Remember for your friend.
My dearest friend, whom I cannot remember not knowing, died last year. She loved music and she was the one who brought The Dutchman to me. I miss her like the dickens and regularly find myself thinking that I want to share something or other with her, but then I remember that she is gone. It's jolting. I'm so sorry your friend is slipping away. Love her and share with her as long as you can.
P.S. One of my children has been living in Walsenburg for a few years. Small world.
P.P.S. My friend was an ardent atheist.
I hadn't thought of that song in years, and I don't know if I ever thought about its meaning. It is such a sadly sweet song.
Advice to female readers. Never have mascara on when you read TC. So much touches the hearts of those whose hearts have not turned to stone.
I had such a friend, had not seen him in 44 years, but when he found me and asked if we could be friends again, it was like we had talked yesterday. I still grieve his death after seven years. It is indeed a different kind of friendship.
Having just buried the best man I have ever known, after caring for him for the 15 years he suffered from Alzheimer’s, there are no words of comfort. I’m sure you already know that. Thank you for sharing this grievous news and the story behind it with us and the world. Such stories matter, such connections matter…
I can not speak for a God I have not met. I don't think this has anything to do with a God. I know this is very personal, I miss my Dad terribly. He hasn't been gone that long, but I was losing him years before he died. I would love to have one more conversation, even if he continued the same loop over, and over, until I asked him a question that led him down another favorite story. You see TC, this is about you, and your loving nature, not a lesson you need to learn. You have already learned the lesson. I have only been reading you few weeks. What kind of man goes to an animal shelter looking for a Stray that is not his lost pet, but rather, a cat that he had seen homeless in his yard.
This kind heart you have managed to keep open and giving, is what this is all about. You bring more solace than a God that may, or may not exist. There is love, or there is fear. You are one of the bravest people I have ever come across in this space of, life in little boxes. Rest, and take care
As someone once told me, "life sucks and then you die". I wish I could remember more of the context to that statement, but I grew up remembering only punch lines. I'm sorry about Roz. Having a faulty memory is bad enough. Knowing that you might lose it all has got to be hard for everyone.
In a way I'm sorry about God too. I get where you & George Carlin & others are coming from and at times I'm envious of those true believers.
Hugs to you TC. Take care of yourself as well as you take care of others.
I used to be envious of those “true believers,” No more, after this current crop has told us what most were all along. I won’t paint all with the same brush, but Dorian Gray seems to be the picture.
Betsy, you have won my gold medal for the best line of the day and my gratitude for a wonderful chuckle, "I grew up remembering only punch lines."
Thank you
TC, I’m feeling lucky. My husband had dementia, not Alzheimer’s. But it’s so hard to see a man who had a patent for the cryogenic fuel lines to the Atlas missile not be able to install a windshield wiper on a car. Thinking of memories, I will say that in remembering for Roz and your wife, you also are remembering your life. It’s so important to remember the WE -- for both of you -- that were a part of any particular memory. I do have faith that there is some sort of higher power that we humans have named God. I just don’t believe that that higher power has any say in what happens in our lives. I can’t believe in a God that “knows how much pain we can bear”!
Hugs and love to you, your wife, and Roz. Personally, I believe the people that form this community and those that surround you in life form the God that supports you and loves you.
This is what Substack is for. Excellent.
I am so sorry, TC, for Roz and for you and for your beautiful wife. At this stage of life there is just more loss than we can sometimes bear. I like that you shared these memories here. Now that we know a little about her we can remember Roz along with you. My two best women friends no longer know me because of Alzheimers. Like you, I feel it is my privilege and responsibility to carry them along with me in life through my memories of them.. Thank you, TC. You are a gifted writer.