Wow. Talk about a week of highs and lows.

After my surgical procedure yesterday I am at home and recovering, rehabilitating. Whatever you want to call it. The surgeon addressed only three of the issues saying the remainder of them would be addressed in his office. The surgery was a success as far as surgeries go, I would guess.

They ended up using what Pat calls conscious sedation. I was in and out of sleep throughout the entire procedure, waking when they needed me to re-position for the next extraction. The doctor (or actually I think it was a nurse) in charge of the sedation was excellent. Best part was I was in the express line getting out of the recovery unit.

Absolute best part was that they had Diet Coke in recovery! The only thing better would have been if they could have hooked up a Diet Coke IV!

Outside of being somewhat sore and minus three cysts or masses. I am doing good. At least in my book.

Krl accompanied me to the hospital. It was comical because I pushed her in her wheel chair into pre-op and everyone thought she was the patient. If I had been smart I would kept quiet until all the poking and prod-ing was complete and then I could have stepped forward and rescued her.

Pat drove over to offer support and be with Krl during the procedure. On my medical records I had listed both Krl and Pat for the doctor and hospital to share my information with. I listed Krl as my spouse and Pat as my medical revue officer! As luck would have it one of the day surgery nurses had been an instructor of Pat's. Initially they had told Krl and I that either I could have Pat back or Krl, but not both. I think when they realized Pat was an RN, the rules became just a little blurred, because I had both Krl and Pat back in pre-op and recovery. Pat can talk the talk, that's for sure! The anethesist (sp, there is that word again) would have done just as well to have told me they were going to give me something for pain, but he explained it all to Pat and I guess she said "amen" because they acted like colleagues instead of patient doctor.

During the procedure I dozed. About all I could feel was some pressure until we finished the surgery and they began to make me fully aware so I could be transported back to recovery.

Once I was positioned in recovery, my nurse began getting me some Diet Coke and went to get Krl and Pat to bring them back.

Even though I was still on the fringe of la-la land, when they walked in, I could tell something was wrong. I just had no idea how wrong things were. Of course my first thought was that it was related to my surgery. You hear stories about doctors opening patients up and sewing them back shut telling them their malady was in-operable and then offer advice to get your business in order.

I looked at Krl after she gave me a peck of a kiss on the forehead, and then I looked at Pat.

"Freddy died", Pat said.

"Do what", I responded.

"Freddy died", she said again.

"Our Freddy?", I asked.

"Yes", she said.

"What happened?" I asked.

"He didn't come in to work as usual and Joni (his youngest daughter) called Jason (his oldest son) and asked him to go by the house and check on him", Pat replied. "Jason found his Dad dead, lying on the bed. It appeared he had been asleep, possibly trying to get up and falling back on the bed because his C-pack breathing mask was still in place."

I was in shock. The three of us sat and cried together in that small room.

Immediately we thought of Mom and Dad. We thought of Linda, Jeri, Jason, Christy and the boys, Jake, and Joni. Who was there with them?

After my discharge, we returned to our house and had a brief discussion. It was decided that we would all travel to Roscoe to be with family. Pat volunteered to let us ride with her. I decided that a day removed from my surgery I might be more sore than just a few hours afterward. Pat called ahead to Memama and Pepa's house and learned that all the family had gone to the funeral home but she left word with some family friends at the house we were in route. We made a quick stop by Walgreens in route.

When we arrived we were very relieved to find a number of friends ministering to our family members. Our fears that no-one was there with them were unfounded. First to meet us was Marsha at the back door, next Tonya in the kitchen followed by Ronnie and Ramona in the dining room, Joe Brad at the large dinner table, Mike Long in the big room. I am fearful that I will miss someone and that is certainly not intentional. There was a steady stream in and out of the house all afternoon long. You cannot believe the food being left in the kitchen. The mechanisms of the Roscoe Church and the Sweetwater Church were functioning fully!

The many people who prepared the dishes and were present to serve them or just offered a kind shoulder to lean on will never know how much we appreciate their acts of kindness. I thank them for ministering to Fred's family as well as our parents. Pat's, Krl's, and my fears were totally for naught.

That is one of the things I miss about small towns, it's not like friends and acquaintances, it is more like extended family.

Our family had been shattered over the last few years, but slowly things were put back together and I am thankful for that.

Tuesday Fred and I probably talked four or five times concerning business matters. During the last conversation he told me he would call me the following day and I informed him that I was done for the week because of my surgery scheduled Wednesday. We discussed that briefly and he told me "I will offer up a little prayer for you". I told him I appreciated that and he said, "Hey, I love you man", and I told him "I love you too!"

I don't think I could have scripted a better "last" conversation.

Our family has begun to migrate toward Roscoe for Freddy's funeral service which is schedule for Friday at 2pm. Burial will follow in the family plot in the Roscoe cemetery.

"Coach" arrived at Memama's and Pepa's house about mid-afternoon. TJ was released from the hospital in Corpus Christi yesterday morning and she and ET were expected in last night. As luck would have it, Jeanetta (our sister who lives in Indiana) was in San Antonio for a funeral today.

Pat picked Krl and I up for the trek home and we detoured by the funeral home. We knew that the casket would not be ready until today, but Memama had told us Dan had allowed them in the back to view Fred. Dan provided the same courtesy to us. Fred looked good. Dressed in a blue and white plaid shirt, his favorite jeans and his "comfy" tennis shoes, with just a faint smile on his lips.

Lately Fred had suffered with some back problems and had vocalized that he just didn't feel "good" or quite right. All of that pain, every affliction was gone.

I know Memama will say, "This is not the way it is supposed to be. A parent is not supposed to bury their child. The children are supposed to bury their parents."

My only response to her is that we don't make the rules GOD does. We don't have to agree, we don't have to like them, but rest assured his plan is unfolding as HE intends. There will be time for questions and discussions in the hereafter. Besides, GOD doesn't have to explain himself to anyone.

Fred had turned 56 last month. He was brilliant in his ability to put business together and did business the way he was brought up. He was a big man which meant he had a big heart. He was kind. Almost to a fault. If I described him in one sentence I would say, Freddy lived life big and loved even harder.

Not only have we lost a Son, Dad, brother, grandfather, in-law, cousin, or nephew. We have all lost a friend.

We love you man!

FATHER, You ain't seen nothing yet!