A funeral. A birthday. A baby.

What a week.  Drove 1145 miles to Enid, Oklahoma so my mom could be buried in the family plot near her mother.  Actually, she was buried in Goltry, a small and sad outpost on the windswept and desolate Oklahoma panhandle.  I believe if you look up the word depressing in the dictionary you can see a picture of Goltry.

The day of the funeral was windy (as I expect everyday in that godforsaken land must be) and bitterly cold.  Mom wanted a simple graveside service and that is what she got.  My Aunt Pat (of fruit salad fame) led the service and the grandkids present each gave a moving tribute as to what Grandma Bonnie had meant in their lives.  Tears were shed and then it was done.

Well, we had a family gathering at the Western Sizzlin’ (apparently one of the finer dining establishments in Enid) and then those of us who were so inclined retired to the Ramada Inn bar.  The eight of us then proceeded to wash away our sorrow (at least temporarily) through massive quantities of beer and various other alcoholic beverages.

My nephew Jason and his wife Rosie brought out a guitar and sang “Upward Over the Mountain” in honor of my mom. It was an incredibly beautiful song and an appropriately moving moment that seemed to give each of some measure of closure.  I know mom would have loved it.

By unfortunate coincidence, the funeral day was also daughter-in-law Lauren’s birthday.  We did a toast in her honor.  Although Lauren was toasting us with fruit juice.  Because she found out that morning that she was pregnant with my son’s first child.  Apparently after quite some time trying.

Kevin revealed that in one of his final conversations with mom she had asked him to promise to take his son to church on Sundays.  He told her “grandma, I don’t have a son”.  She said “just promise”.

Renee is convinced that the first thing mom did in heaven was to pull some strings.  I don’t know about that.  But it was a day of days for sure and I wouldn’t put anything past my mom.

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Life moves on

Things seem really different around here in the absence of mom’s presence.  I’m equally torn between relief that her suffering is over and enormous sadness that the life she loved so much is gone.  But I guess that’s really the way it works out for most people, isn’t it?

She wants to be buried next to her mother in Goltry, Oklahoma.  It’s a tad over 1100 miles from here and I’m in the mood for a road trip.  So I’ll be hitting the Interstate on Friday.

Last night I played darts for the first time since I’ve been “home”.  Found a nice little Irish pub with three boards named The Puddlin’ Duck.  I joined the “league” which amounts to a weekly blind draw double elimination tourney.  There were fourteen of us throwing tonight and I felt warmly welcomed.  So, I’ve got Wednesdays covered at least.

Played so bad though even Jee Yeun was embarrassed for me.  I overheard her telling my new mates that I really wasn’t that bad.  Well, not to make excuses but it has been awhile since I’ve thrown and it being a new venue surrounded by strangers and all it’s understandable I’d be off my game.  Right?  Right?

Anyway, it will be better.  It’s got to get better.

All you need is love

The nearest friends can go
With anyone to death, comes so far short
They might as well not try to go at all.
No, from the time when one is sick to death,
One is alone, and he dies more alone.
Friends make pretense of following to the grave,
But before one is in it, their minds are turned
And making the best of their way back to life
And living people, and things they understand.

–Robert Frost (from Home Burial)

My mother died this morning.  At home, peacefully in her sleep.  These past two weeks had been a struggle for her but she kept on fighting.  It was heartbreaking to watch her fade away each day.  She had stopped eating, drinking, and using her oxygen and become verbally non-communicative.  But until yesterday I could still see her “in there” behind her eyes and there was a spark of recognition when friends and family members came to visit.

The best night occurred last week when her sisters from California were here.  She was surrounded by people who loved her and she seemed to really perk up.  She actually made a little speech about what’s important in life and she said all that matters is love.  Mom told us to always love one another and everyone else we encountered.  When it was done she smiled and said, “well, I guess I gave a sermon”.  Mom was clearly loving having her family with her, that’s for sure.

She deteriorated pretty quickly after that.  She lost the ability to speak, but still would lift her arms and offer hugs to any and all takers.  Later she was reduced to moaning and grunts and all we could do was administer morphine and keep her as comfortable as possible.  She would still make eye contact and I sensed a pleading for help, but there was no help I could provide other than stroking her head.

The last days watching her lie there fighting for breath was heartrending and we could only standby watching her suffering.  This morning we woke to find her at peace at last.

You know, I have always feared dying alone.  So I thought it was a good thing that mom had family around her at the end of her days.  But I also observed that no matter the circumstances, we are all going to die alone.  Mom was physically alive, but she was also already gone to some other unreachable place.  I can only hope it was comfortable and pain free there.

Thanks for all the love you so freely gave me mom.

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A week in the life

Leaving Korea proved to be harder in the end than I imagined it would be.  The New Year’s eve send off was tremendous and I will carry many happy memories of my Korea life wherever the future may lead me.

Had a long but uneventful New Year’s Day flight to the USA.  I was welcomed to America by a Thrifty car rental agent who made a big show of “doing me a favor” by allowing me to actually rent the car I had reserved.  Seems that if I rent a car using a debit card I am required to provide my return flight information.  Which since I have now made South Carolina my home I don’t possess.  She hemmed and hawed and finally made the comment that she would “do me a favor” and rent me the car.  I was tired and hungover and wanted to tell her to go fuck herself but my desire to get out of the airport and on my way overcame the impulse and the transaction was completed.  Her parting shot was “well, I’ve done my good deed for the day!”.  I shook my head and walked away but I was reminded of one of the reasons I’m dreading living in the USA.  Sanctimonious bitch!

I dropped off my bags at the house and went to visit my mom in the hospital.  Not good.  Not good at all.  I was shocked at how much she had deteriorated since my visit in November.  Things were much worse than I imagined and the doctor confirmed that they would not be getting better.  Since there was nothing more to be done medically (congestive heart failure) we were presented with two options–home hospice care or confinement to a nursing home.  We made the obvious choice of allowing her to die at home.

So, a hospital bed was delivered and set up in the living room (ironic name, eh?).  A hospice worker comes five days a week to bathe my mother.  A hospice nurse comes a couple of times a week.  A social worker also appears periodically.  The rest is up to us family members.  I never imagined I’d participate in changing my mother’s diapers, but that’s now part of my daily routine.  I’m doing my best to make her as comfortable as possible for as long as she may have left, but it somehow doesn’t feel like it is nearly enough.

Mom told me she loves me for coming home to her, so there’s that.

I spilled diet coke on my netbook keyboard on a drunken New Year’s morning.  The computer functioned fine except when I typed letters would randomly be numbers and vice-versa, which made logging on with passwords impossible.  Hence the lack of posting here.  I took it in for repairs and got a call yesterday that there was nothing wrong and I could pick it up.  Well, maybe the Vaio has a self-healing feature or I experienced a minor miracle.  Even more bizarrely the repair shop said “no charge”.

I bought a car, bought insurance for said car, and obtained a South Carolina driver’s license.  The last item was was touch and go.  Despite having my passport and birth certificate, the wanted my original social security card.  Well, when it was issued 40 years ago it was just a flimsy business card material that has long since disintegrated.  I didn’t think to bring my last pay stub but then I remembered that I had failed (intentionally) to return my Army ID card.  And since it won’t expire until 22 January and it showed my SSN, I was golden.  All I had to do now was demonstrate proof of residence.  Well, I’m staying with my parents, but my name is on the deed to the house.  In the state’s eyes, that doesn’t prove I live there (valid point, since my name has been on the deed for 6 years, and I’d been here 6 days).  Of course, the utility bills are in Dad’s name so it looked like I was in a classic catch-22 situation.  Then I remembered my proof of insurance certificate showing my living at this address.  Score!  I am now a licensed driver in SC for the second time in my life.

Thursday I drove my nephew Joshua (who had been staying with mom and was a tremendous help) to the airport in Raleigh.  It was an 8 hour round trip, but my new car handled well and provided a comfortable ride.

Jee Yeun has been an angel.  She’s a natural born caregiver and has really done everything possible to make mom comfortable (including pedicures).

Of course, despite our best efforts, mom is not comfortable at all.  She seems to be having an increasing difficulty breathing and she’s miserable staying in bed.  She begs us to let her up, but it is just not possible to move her in her current state of immobility.

I thought for awhile we were going to lose her last night, but she came around.

Her sisters are due in this afternoon and she’s looking forward to that.

And now we are just watching and waiting and hoping her suffering is not too great.

I hate everything about my new life.  And I’m glad to be here.  For whatever that’s worth.

That about sums it up

So, today is my last day at work.  At our team luncheon I’m going to talk about “change” using the Who Moved My Cheese? book as a reference point.  In doing some Google prep, I came upon this blog post which actually captures what I’m feeling these days better than I could ever hope to express.

It’s the inevitable let down at the end of a great adventure.

But I’m going to make sure this is merely the transition time between adventures.  Or go crazy.  One of those.

Some faces

Looking back over my time in Korea…

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Duke

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Tom and Yuli

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Those Canadians, Scott, Craig, Colin and Unknown

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Nolan at the DMZ

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Jin

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Mario

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World famous Dolce Vita blowjobs.  The shots, not the dudes.

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Who says you can’t get injured playing darts.  Tom and Tae Shin.

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Walt and Miseon.  I sold his former car today.

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Simon and Jay

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Matt

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So Young.

And now I’m so tired.

It don’t come easy

Trying to knock out the final items on my out-processing checklist.  Today’s objective was getting the car inspected in preparation for selling it.

So, it’s always a bit of pain in the ass to get over to Camp Kim from Yongsan Garrison via Camp Coiner.  But I navigated it. 

Got to the AAFES CarCare Center and I was the only customer.  Paid my 20 bucks and walked across the lot to the vehicle registration center to pick up the forms required to process the sale of my car (to a co-worker which was in fact easy).  I was a little surprised to see that the registration office will be closed both Thursday and Friday this week and next.  Which basically leaves me almost no margin for error in dealing with the USFK bureaucracy.  So, I figured I’d get things done today and not have to worry about it.

No dice.  My car failed inspection.  Seems the CV joint boot is torn.  So, with my rejection slip in hand I drove over to the other side of Yongsan to Kim’s Garage (AAFES does not do vehicle repairs).  I look around the shop and call “Yogio!” but the place seems deserted.  I note a Volvo station wagon out front with the engine running and the drive fast asleep at the wheel.  After spending a couple more minutes in a fruitless search for a mechanic I take another gander at the Volvo.  It has the USFK ID sticker in the windshield and the sleeping driver is a Korean–in a mechanics uniform!  Putting 2+2 together, I knock on the window and ask the guy if he fixes cars (as opposed to just sleeping in them, which I didn’t say but I hope was implied by my tone of voice).

Anyway, he does and will and I’m promised that my car will be ready at 1300.  We’ll see.  If things go as planned, I will take the new owner of the car to the insurance place where he will buy and I will cancel.  Then back to Camp Kim for the vehicle transaction. 

Wish me luck.

What would an evacuation of Korea look like?

Not pretty.

We (USFK) actually practice evacuating non-essentials twice a year.  It works pretty well on paper. I’m no expert but I also know the real world scenario would likely mean nothing going as planned.

I would definitely be more inclined to “shelter in place” than attempt to flee.  I’m guessing my designated evacuation point is already on the list on North Korean artillery targets.  And as the linked article notes, all roads south would be gridlocked anyway (hell, they get that way on major holidays).  And I seriously doubt the Korean bus drivers will be showing up to transport miguks when their own family members are at risk.

So, there ain’t much point in worrying about it, is there?

How does it feel to be a pawn?

A little like this I suppose.

In addition to what’s thought to be a rudimentary nuclear arsenal of perhaps a dozen bombs, the North Koreans have a million-man army, with half deployed near the demilitarized zone abutting South Korea, and hundreds of long-range artillery tubes within range of Seoul. That means a sudden strike could potentially kill the roughly 30,000 American civilians living among the millions of South Koreans, as well as the roughly 25,000 U.S. servicemen and women assigned to protect South Korea.

In turn, U.S. and South Korean firepower can destroy the North Korean leadership and military

Sunday in Songtan

It was a dart playing weekend.  Regular Friday night tourney at Dolce, the end of season banquet/tourney on Saturday.  And yesterday 12 of us bussed on down to Songtan to take on the local dart community at Xenis Bar.

We split into three groups of four: our elite “A” division players (Alistair, Paul, Sammy and Chris), other “A”s and high “B”s (Tom, Jonas, Mario and me) and a “C” team of Tom, Sean, Jeremy, and Mike.

We had a great time although some of their games weren’t that familiar (call cricket, 301 DIDO).  We got along well with our rivals and drank us some beers.  Made it home last night around 10, but I’m still beat.

Actually I was beat yesterday.  Our elite guys got crushed, we took the middle team to a match deciding team game before losing.  The bright spot was the 9-8 victory of our “C” team.  All is not lost however because the rematch in Seoul is coming up this Sunday at Dolce Vita.  We are down 9 legs but feel confident we will do some ass kicking on our home turf.

The end of the road

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Before Government service

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After Government Service.

What a long, strange trip it’s been.

So, today I’m being honored with a retirement luncheon at Hartell House (the CG’s mess).  I’m never all that comfortable being in the spotlight, but these milestones in life seem to demand some ceremony so I’ll make the best of it and be gracious and appreciative.  Since it’s also expected that I make some remarks I’ve been thinking about that as well.  I was going to write down some talking points, but I’ve decided to just wing it instead.  I can’t help but think of it as akin to giving your own eulogy, but I’m going to try and keep it upbeat and hopefully I’ll avoid getting emotional.  Letting go of my job is in some ways like parting with an old friend.  I know it’s time to say goodbye, but that doesn’t make it any easier. 

So, I had some odd jobs here and there, some more steady than others.  But my career in Federal service began on October 27, 1976 when I took the oath of office and became a letter carrier with the United States Postal Service in Anaheim, California.  The starting pay was $5.25 an hour, which wasn’t that good even back then.  The job did have pretty good benefits though, chief among them from my perspective was the ability to retire at age 55. 

Well, here I am 55 years old.  So I guess it could be said that with my retirement I have now achieved the goal I set for myself 34 years ago.  But I did have some fun and some adventures along the way.  I’m not sure there is anything you can say upon reaching the retirement milestone that hasn’t been said before or that isn’t a tired cliché.  But yeah, if life is a journey then your working life is a journey within that journey.  And here’s some of my story. 

Working as a mailman was actually a pretty cool job.  Except for the dogs and supervisors with unreasonable expectations.  I carried pepper spray for the dogs and became a union steward to deal with the supervisors, so it worked out ok I guess.  A couple of years after starting with the Postal Service I could afford to have a second child, and so with some assistance from my then-wife, I acquired a son to complement my daughter. 

Now, back in those days I used to really enjoy getting out of the city for some camping out.  The in-laws owned some property in Arizona that we used for this purpose and the thought occurred that wouldn’t it be great to actually LIVE there.  So, I dropped in for a visit with the Postmaster of Prescott, Arizona and as fate would have he was looking to hire a letter carrier.  So, next thing I knew I was packing up the U-Haul truck and making the big move. 

Living and working in Arizona was like a dream come true.  I bought my first house, became president of the local union, and founded a softball association.  I was living the American dream for sure and figured I was set for life.  Ah, but things do change, don’t they?  They wife and I split up and I found myself with custody of a 5 year old and a 3 year old.  And being a single parent was really, really hard work.  I’d get up a six, feed and dress the kids, drop them at daycare, carry my mail route, pick up the kids, feed and bathe them, collapse in exhaustion, then get up and do it all over again the next day.  After a few months of this routine I cried “uncle!”.  Actually, I cried “mother” as in, mom I need some help. 

Now, my parents had retired to a small hobby farm in Poteau, Oklahoma.  The nearest city of any size was Fort Smith, Arkansas.  And after a meeting with the HR Director, Ms. Bobbie McLaine, my transfer request was approved. You know, there was some culture shock when I first moved here to Korea.  But really not as much as I experienced as a California city boy living in the rural south.  I think the natives were as wary of me as I was of them, and the first year there was the loneliest of my life.  Everyday I would berate myself as I shouldered my mail satchel and walked my route in stifling heat and humidity.  I considered moving to Arkansas the absolute worst mistake I had ever made. The kids were thriving though having quickly adjusted to life on the farm.  

So, I made it through that first summer.  And as bad as an Arkansas summer was, the winter was worse.  I was now spending my days walking up and down icy pathways and porch steps.  And falling on my ass with alarming frequency.  Even when the weather was good, the work had become routine and mind-numbingly boring. It was becoming harder and harder to imagine myself carrying the mail until I reached retirement eligibility. And so I started applying for some management jobs.  Of course, I wasn’t really qualified for anything but that didn’t stop me.  There was a job open in the safety office and I figured anyone could do that!  So, one day Bobbie McLaine, the HR Director came down to the workroom and asked me if I wanted to ride with her to a scheduled labor-management meeting in Fayetteville.  Seeing as how I was a union official and I didn’t want to be viewed as sucking up to management, I declined her offer.  A little later, Dixie (the HR Director’s secretary) came to see me and she said “John, don’t you want that safety job?  Bobbie wanted you to ride with her so she could talk with you about the job”.  Oops!  Well, I made sure I was seated next to Bobbie at lunch.  And I got the job! 

Here’s the thing about Fort Smith–it was a pretty small pond.  Which made it pretty easy to be a big fish.  In addition to safety, I was soon tasked with being the labor relations representative.  And then I took on the responsibilities of being the Public Affairs Officer.  And pretty much anything else that needed to be done when there wasn’t a body to do it.  You really learn a lot that way and I seemed to have a knack for getting it right, at least most of the time. 

Now, I’ll confess to having an ego.  And I got thinking I just might need a slightly larger pond to hold it.  Of all my duties, I enjoyed labor relations the most so I started applying for every vacancy I could find.  I finally scored an interview in Charleston, South Carolina.  So, I flew out there and found the city quite charming and to my liking.  I thought I handled the interview well and afterwards one of the panel members, Jack Mabe, asked to speak with me.  He said I have your application for a job on my staff in Columbia and I’d like to interview you for that while you are here.  Naturally, I agreed. 

Now, I didn’t have any “real” LR experience other than the ad hoc stuff I was doing in Fort Smith and my union background.   The Charleston job was a small step up, but the Columbia job would constitute a huge promotion.  The interview with Jack didn’t take long–ever done an arbitration?  No.  How about an EEO case?  No.  What about MSPB?  I didn’t even know what that was.  He then asked a final question–which job would I prefer, Charleston or Columbia.  Well, what could I say?  I told him that I really liked Charleston and I thought that with my level of experience it was a better fit.  He thanked me and I left. When I made it back to my office in Fort Smith there was a message from Jack Mabe offering me the job in Columbia.  I accepted and moved to a city I had never seen.  I asked Jack later why he picked me and he said because you didn’t know anything so you wouldn’t have to unlearn any bad habits. 

Well, I was definitely way in over my head those first few months in Columbia.  But Jack was a great mentor and I learned how to do things his way which as it so happens was also the right way.  I gained confidence and competence and starting having enough success that I was getting noticed by some higher ups.  This led to an opportunity to be detailed as the Director of HR in Roanoke, VA and to doing some arbitration’s for areas outside of Columbia. 

And then came a major Postal Service reorganization.  One of those downsizing efforts to remove unneeded layers of management that seem to take place in organizations every few years.  All I was told for sure was that my Columbia job would no longer exist and that hopefully “something” would be found for me somewhere.  It was a tough time that drug on for several tortuous months.  In the end I wound up with a promotion working for the newly created Mid-Atlantic Area (one of 10 reporting directly to USPS HQ).  The best part was I could remain in Columbia because the job was traveling throughout the mid-Atlantic states doing arbitration, EEO and MSPB hearings! 

It was my dream job.  I was on the road 3 weeks out of the month, but in those days air travel was not such a bitch.  I really liked being the hired gun that came into town to handle the toughest cases.  And I won enough of them to gain a reputation for excellence.  I did this for several years and then my boss, Barry Swinehart, got promoted to the Area Director of HR.  He said he hoped I’d be applying for his old job as the Area LR manager.  I told him I already had the perfect job and lived in a perfect city and that I had no interest in living in the DC area (Arlington, VA).  Later he asked me to at least come up for a detail in the job.  I again declined. 

Then one day he called and said “John, I need you to do me a favor”.  Well, I know enough to know that when your boss says that, he ain’t asking.  And so I became the Mid-Atlantic Area Manager of Labor Relations.  It was the biggest job I ever had.  Responsible for 80,000 employees in 7 states (and DC).  Six people working for me and four angry postal unions on my ass every day.  

There was never a quiet moment and I worked long hours.  But it was a challenge and I think it really helped me learn a lot about leadership.  Or maybe I just got lucky and hired good people to work for me.  Either way, I enjoyed a fair amount of success and I was slotted into the Executive Development Program.  I was at the top of my game and the sky was limit. 

Or not.  I’ve never been much for playing politics.  And when HQ came out with some dumb-ass policy or program, I expressed my opinion accordingly.  Suffice to say I did not endear myself to the HQ VP for Labor Relations.  And then Barry Swinehart retired.  And I was deemed “not ready” to be his successor in the Postal Executive Service.  So, I took a detail assignment as the Director of HR in Little Rock, Arkansas.  It was a little like going home again and I did enjoy my time there.  I was offered the job on a permanent basis, but I decided my future lay elsewhere.  So, I took a job with the U.S. Department of Education. 

The ED is the smallest of the cabinet level Departments with just over 5,000 employees.  I was the number 2 in LR there.  I had a fraction of my previous responsibilities but a 25% pay increase, so I went for the money.  And spent four years being bored out of my mind.  Oh there were moments when I engaged in massive battles with the union on the size of cubicles (I’m not kidding!), but otherwise I was phoning it in. 

Turns out money is not everything.  I started applying for jobs that would get me out of DC and the DC mindset.  I was hoping for a job in Iraq but the Corps of Engineers apparently weren’t looking for old fat guys at the time.  I did get an offer from the Eighth Army in Korea and I jumped on it!  I had no clue what I was in for but it turned out to be the best place I’ve ever worked or lived.  You can read six years of Long Time Gone archives if you want to relive my adventures here, but I wouldn’t recommend it. 

And so this is where my career journey will end on December 31.  It was an incredible ride.  And although I might have done some things differently, I wouldn’t change a thing.  If you get my meaning.  Anyway, I’d best be getting ready to do my retirement gig.   

Memories of Korea (part 1)

Some random photos from my Korea life:

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Itaewon, January 2005.

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3 Alley Pub, December 2006.

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Corine is honored by LTG Valcourt with a Distinguished Civilian Service Award.

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My coworkers…

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Yongsan Garrison cherry blossoms..

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Haeundae Beach Busan.
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Traditional Palace Guard

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Dart mentors Petro, Tom and Duke.  They’ve all preceded me in returning to the USA.

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Bad ass gatekeeper protecting DMZ visitors.

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“Dorothy” from the Korean version of the Wizard of Oz.

I figure 10 pictures at a time is enough.  More to come though…

In my mind I’m gone to Carolina

But I’m leaving a big part of me here in Korea.

This is my last month in the land of the morning calm.  I’m retiring on 31 December and moving on, at least for awhile.

They say nothing ever goes as planned.  And they would be right about that.

I might be back be to Korea one day.  Probably best not to plan on it though.  Wouldn’t want “they” to mess with me again.

Heart of Gold

Had a very fine Thanksgiving day feast at Dolce Vita.  As is our tradition, we followed up with a nice little darts tourney.  Caught a cab on the way home and much to my surprise the cabbie began playing a miniature guitar (ukulele size, but with the deep rich tones of a full size guitar).  The tune was hauntingly familiar and then he began to sing the Neil Young classic “Heart of Gold”.

Being as how I’m a big Neil Young fan, and since it was so twilight zone-esque to hear a Korean taxi driver perform the tune live in the front seat, it seemed appropriate for me to sing along.  Oh yeah, I was pretty drunk as well.  It was a short ride home, but I tipped large and thanked him for the experience.  He said something about finding ways to enjoy your life whatever it is you may be doing and he went on his way.

I’d actually been a bit melancholy as I reflected on my last Thanksgiving in Korea.  So being reminded that real happiness is found within, not where you are, was a timely gift.