This week, I haven't been very faithful in keeping documentation on events updated. It is Friday evening. I am in Humblik's apartment. I have been in Lincoln since Wednesday evening. But to get updated (briefly)...

On Monday, bouncing, mom, and I went to the grocery store to pick up some groceries for grandpa. I also tried to find some spinach, but ended up not looking closely enough and got bitter-tasting turnip greens instead. Oops.

Notes about Lombard, IL grocery store in comparison to Colorado. (Specifically, Osco Jewel, the predominant chain in the area.) Produce -- slightly more expensive, and of poorer quality. Deli meats -- ridiculously CHEAP. As in $3.99/lb for smoked turkey at regular price. Lines -- f-ing long. Insanely so. Just early afternoon had people backed up into the aisles. WTF? Self-checkout -- a screwup of gross proportions. Maybe I'll elaborate later.

Prognosis: If King Soopers or Safeway expanded into Illinois, they would wipe the floor with these jokers, despite having higher meat prices. I ain't kidding.

OTOH, another store, not exactly general enough to be classified as a grocery store, was very nice. Trader Joe's. It's kind of like a health food store, but without the ridiculously high prices. And it has some other interesting items as well.

After buying various items, we went and ate at grandpa's condo, and the four of us had a pleasant lunch. It would be the last (and only) meal of the trip during which we would all eat together with grandpa. It consisted of sweet corn on the cob, italian bread, tomato and red pepper soup, fresh tomatoes, baby spinach, and orange chocolate for dessert.

We talked for a little while afterwards, and grandpa wasn't feeling well, so he retired to his room to sleep. (He was also beyond exhausted from months / years of taking care of grandma, and, of course, undergoing grief of a magnitude that is almost beyond my comprehension.)

During the twilight hours, I spent a fairly significant bit of time exploring the town of Lombard on foot. It was a worthy walk. Playlist:

• Nightwish - Wishmaster
• Garbage (self-titled)
• Indicia (self-titled)

When I returned, grandpa was still asleep. (Or rather, he had been before I rang the buzzer at the condo, for which I felt immensely guilty. Though it was before 21:00 localtime, I decided to be far more careful about it in the future.) Mom informed me that bouncing had wandered off to see a movie. This sounded like an immensely good idea. Since he had just left, I attempted to reach his cell phone in hopes that we might make a joint venture. The attempt failed, so I decided to mount my own expedition.

After an excessive amount of driving around (which further acquainted me with the geography of the area), (And no, I did not look up anything. No addresses, maps, showtimes. Nothing. I just started driving with the idea that I might hit a theatre eventually, and it might have a movie I would be interested in seeing, starting at at time shortly after I arrived. Blind luck. And it was fun.) I happened across an AMC multiplex, which just happened to have Shrek 2 scheduled to start shortly. It also featured something I hadn't seen previously. A digitial projector for the pre-movie trivia slides and ads, allowing for animated logos and other such random nonsense. (I would have been annoyed if they had tried to use it for the feature because I could see the pixels, but it was amusing fer the pre-show stuff.) The film itself was also most amusing.

Back at the hotel, bouncing had managed to find X Files on tv. He watched it while I prepared for bed.

Tuesday. Grandpa (1) Wasn't feeling well again, (2) had business to take care of that none of us could help with, (3) wasn't in much of a mood for talking or socializing. Mom, bouncing, and I decided it would be best to just let him have some time alone.

We went to a Starbucks drivethru (their idea, but I did order a non-caffeinated sweet drink), wandered around a park, and visited a local arboretum. Probably due in part to the heavy-but-not-very satisfying breakfast I had consumed complimentary at the hotel (sausage, donuts, biscuts, etc), I felt faily sluggish for most of the day. Like a brick in my stomach, and I was sleepy too. Mom bought stuff at the gift shop arboretum.

At the end of the day, grandpa still wasn't feeling well, so mom, bouncing, and I ate on our own at a nice Italian place that we saw by the road.

We all went to bed fairly early, because we were planning to get up for the ceremony in the morning.

"Ceremony" in this case was not going to be a full blown funeral. Neither of my grandparents had wanted that. Instead, it was to involve a drive to a grave site several hours away where grandma would be buried. Family only. (Well, and a pastor and a few morticians or something.) The plan was to be ready to leave at 8:15 am.

Wednesday, at around 7, mom called. The ceremony had been called off. Grandpa's stomach and heart problems were still acting up, and he wasn't up to the journey. Pictures of her burial would be sent back, but that is all.

There was a bit of discussion as to whether it would be worthwhile for us to stay any longer. The conclusion was no. Not really. Mom decided she would stay for a few more days to take care of some other business with grandpa, and to try and make sure he would be alright. But the continued presence of bouncing and myself was... well... What could we really do?

Grandpa still didn't feel like eating. Mom, bouncing, and I ate the last breakfast together at a nearby restaurant. (At least here, the heavy food I ate actually tasted good.)

Before checking out of the motel, we all gathered at grandpa's condo again for a last visit. Sitting on the couch, grandpa broke down into tears. He had really wanted the grave side ceremony to happen, but his health condition just wouldn't allow it. He expounded about what a wonderful woman grandma had been.

There was an awkward moment or two. After talking about what a great Christian woman she had been, he looked me and my brother both in the eye, and strongly recommended that we seek the "path of salvation." Followed by a semi-rhetorical question about whether we could see how the world is coming to and end, and Jesus will be coming soon.

Long pause.

Neither bouncing nor I could say much of anything. I could not, in conscience, lie and say that this religion is anything other than a pile of bullshit to me at this stage of my life. But it would have been even worse to exacerbate this poor, kind old man's grief by essentially delivering a message that -- to him -- would mean his grandsons are heading straight ho hell.

So we sat, mostly in silence, nodding vaguely and perhaps grunting just a little until he went on.

I also came to the realization that I want to keep in better touch with grandpa from now on. Even if it just means writing more letters and sending cards. Something, anything. I've been slacking off in the grandparent care department. Though that's not good, at least up until now, they've at least had each other to look after and keep company. But now, grandpa will be living alone. I must do my part to help him, not because of some silly sense of obligation, but because my basic sense of humanity demands it.

(Of course, that doesn't mean I can share my whole life with him, because there is much about me he would probably be horrified if he knew. Some things that would hurt him must be kept from him. The same as it is with my parents, but with a much longer radius.)

On the way out of town, I stopped again at Trade Joe's to buy some road snacks. While I was there, I also picked up something I had spotted earlier, but wasn't going to buy in front of mom, much less grandpa. Outmeal stout. From a local microbrewer. I have never had oatmeal stout before. Couldn't resist. I bought a 6-pack. Now I'm going to have to find somebody back at home to share it with. (scottgalvin.com seems like the most likely candidate.)

There was a part of my brain that wanted me to feel guilty for purchasing beer on the way out from what essentially amounted to my grandmother's funeral. I did not allow those thoughts to dominate me. The dead must not stand in the way of the lives of the living. Besides, I was only buying it there as a practical matter. It would be consumed later.

I fired up my cd player, and began the journey westward.