Happy Birthday Jay!!! We miss you!
Yup, it's midnight and I'm still at it.
I've been running around in circles, with not enough Pete to get everything done. We have decided we need to hire someone to help out. There are days where I spend 6+ hours on the phone, and that doesn't leave much room for getting shop work accomplished.
If I just had someone to pack boxes and prep things to ship it would go a long way. When shipments come in, there is plenty of work to be done then as well. If there were someone to just wipe off the excess grease when logging in new muskets it would really streamline things.
Over the past week I have spent an insane amount of hours doing paperwork stuff. We incorporated for this year, so for the first time Wendy and I will actually get a salary. To do that, however, we need to address all of the same legalities that would apply to hiring someone off of the street. I.E. workman's comp insurance, unemployment insurance, a separate bank account for the Corporation, Federal Tax I.D. number etc etc. In the middle of all of that, I did our taxes.
So there I was, kind of burned out at the computer and for reasons unknown to me, I decided to turn on the various IM software that I used to amuse myself with. MSN Messenger, AOL-IM and ICQ.
As soon as I turned on ICQ, a little birthday reminder popped up telling me that "Jim" has a birthday today. How could I have forgotten that? For those of you who don't know, Jim (in the family, we called him Jay) was my older brother and business partner. He died of respiratory illness and assorted other things in October 2003. I haven't been the same since.
He would have been 47. That is, on the 13th, when I started typing. Now it's after midnight so it's the 14th, Valentine's Day. Today is his wife Sharon's birthday. If I recall, she would have been 49 today. She died maybe 10 years ago. She dropped dead of a massive heart attack on a Sunday morning at age 39. Her death ruined my brother. I had never seen two people more perfect for each other. They had been together for 7-8 years, but married only a year. He moved out of their large apartment and into a tiny cavelike basement apartment. Eventually he pulled himself together and went back to school to learn computer repair. By then, his heart and lung problems were bad enough to keep him from passing the DPU physical, so he couldn't do a "driving" job anymore.
He had been born with badly clubbed feet and there weren't too many jobs he could do. For years he had been a courier/cab driver/dispatcher/school bus driver. Those were jobs he could do without being on his feet. Never once did he (or my Mom, also handicapped) ever sit back and say "poor me". Never would they allow themselves to be "victims".
Getting into computers really gave him a new purpose. It was an amazing thing. He had more online personas that I could count. And he made friends. Friends who could understand his grief over losing Sharon. The interesting thing is that only a select few of them seemed to know about his physical limitations. Out in cyberspace, there were no limits, no crutches, no oxygen tanks to carry around, no medications. (well, not that he took his medications here on terra firma, that's why he's dead...) Out hitchhiking on the Information Superhighway he was free to blossom into the person that our society wouldn't let a handicapped guy be. He had friends all over the world. When we had to clean out his apartment, we found cards and letters from them. It was too short of a life.
We were closer than I realized. I talked to him either on the phone or online nearly every day. He was the guy who was building our website. He know nothing about muzzleloaders, but wanted to be involved. Over the years, I took him to a couple of reenactments. He was on my cannon crew a few times. He was supposed to come to Rendezvous once, but it didn't happen because he ended up going to the hospital with heart trouble instead.
We had talked about moving out of the city. He contemplated it, and thought it would be a good thing. All he needed was a little cabin, as long as it had an internet connection. One of the biggest failures of my life is that I wasn't able to get him to that little cabin. He died in October of 2003, and we moved to New Hampshire the following July. His ashes are in a little cardboard box on top of the file cabinet across from my desk. I still am unsure what I am supposed to do with them.
His guitar is leaning against my desk. When Don the furnace repair guy was here to fix the amazing chimneyless furnace he picked it up and played part of "Stairway to Heaven" on it. I couldn't belive the emotions that came over me. Like everyone who learned to play in the 70's, OF COURSE that was one of Jay's favorite songs to play. It was like his soul was set free through those six strings. I almost cried in front of Don, but managed to contain myself.
There are many days that I miss him so much that I can barely function. I know that he is with Sharon now, and unencumbered by his broken body. I should be happy for him, but I feel too alone. It's like I lost a part of myself.
So when ICQ popped up and gave me a reminder that it was his birthday, I honored him the best way I could; by sending him an instant message over the system.
"Happy Burpday" Jim, wherever you are...
I've been running around in circles, with not enough Pete to get everything done. We have decided we need to hire someone to help out. There are days where I spend 6+ hours on the phone, and that doesn't leave much room for getting shop work accomplished.
If I just had someone to pack boxes and prep things to ship it would go a long way. When shipments come in, there is plenty of work to be done then as well. If there were someone to just wipe off the excess grease when logging in new muskets it would really streamline things.
Over the past week I have spent an insane amount of hours doing paperwork stuff. We incorporated for this year, so for the first time Wendy and I will actually get a salary. To do that, however, we need to address all of the same legalities that would apply to hiring someone off of the street. I.E. workman's comp insurance, unemployment insurance, a separate bank account for the Corporation, Federal Tax I.D. number etc etc. In the middle of all of that, I did our taxes.
So there I was, kind of burned out at the computer and for reasons unknown to me, I decided to turn on the various IM software that I used to amuse myself with. MSN Messenger, AOL-IM and ICQ.
As soon as I turned on ICQ, a little birthday reminder popped up telling me that "Jim" has a birthday today. How could I have forgotten that? For those of you who don't know, Jim (in the family, we called him Jay) was my older brother and business partner. He died of respiratory illness and assorted other things in October 2003. I haven't been the same since.
He would have been 47. That is, on the 13th, when I started typing. Now it's after midnight so it's the 14th, Valentine's Day. Today is his wife Sharon's birthday. If I recall, she would have been 49 today. She died maybe 10 years ago. She dropped dead of a massive heart attack on a Sunday morning at age 39. Her death ruined my brother. I had never seen two people more perfect for each other. They had been together for 7-8 years, but married only a year. He moved out of their large apartment and into a tiny cavelike basement apartment. Eventually he pulled himself together and went back to school to learn computer repair. By then, his heart and lung problems were bad enough to keep him from passing the DPU physical, so he couldn't do a "driving" job anymore.
He had been born with badly clubbed feet and there weren't too many jobs he could do. For years he had been a courier/cab driver/dispatcher/school bus driver. Those were jobs he could do without being on his feet. Never once did he (or my Mom, also handicapped) ever sit back and say "poor me". Never would they allow themselves to be "victims".
Getting into computers really gave him a new purpose. It was an amazing thing. He had more online personas that I could count. And he made friends. Friends who could understand his grief over losing Sharon. The interesting thing is that only a select few of them seemed to know about his physical limitations. Out in cyberspace, there were no limits, no crutches, no oxygen tanks to carry around, no medications. (well, not that he took his medications here on terra firma, that's why he's dead...) Out hitchhiking on the Information Superhighway he was free to blossom into the person that our society wouldn't let a handicapped guy be. He had friends all over the world. When we had to clean out his apartment, we found cards and letters from them. It was too short of a life.
We were closer than I realized. I talked to him either on the phone or online nearly every day. He was the guy who was building our website. He know nothing about muzzleloaders, but wanted to be involved. Over the years, I took him to a couple of reenactments. He was on my cannon crew a few times. He was supposed to come to Rendezvous once, but it didn't happen because he ended up going to the hospital with heart trouble instead.
We had talked about moving out of the city. He contemplated it, and thought it would be a good thing. All he needed was a little cabin, as long as it had an internet connection. One of the biggest failures of my life is that I wasn't able to get him to that little cabin. He died in October of 2003, and we moved to New Hampshire the following July. His ashes are in a little cardboard box on top of the file cabinet across from my desk. I still am unsure what I am supposed to do with them.
His guitar is leaning against my desk. When Don the furnace repair guy was here to fix the amazing chimneyless furnace he picked it up and played part of "Stairway to Heaven" on it. I couldn't belive the emotions that came over me. Like everyone who learned to play in the 70's, OF COURSE that was one of Jay's favorite songs to play. It was like his soul was set free through those six strings. I almost cried in front of Don, but managed to contain myself.
There are many days that I miss him so much that I can barely function. I know that he is with Sharon now, and unencumbered by his broken body. I should be happy for him, but I feel too alone. It's like I lost a part of myself.
So when ICQ popped up and gave me a reminder that it was his birthday, I honored him the best way I could; by sending him an instant message over the system.
"Happy Burpday" Jim, wherever you are...
posted by MVTCoPete | 3:59 AM
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