HonBons: And Other Cup-Filling Things

A brief visit to Topsail Island resulted in chaos; laugher, heartbreak, rivalry - it had it all. A real Hollywood blockbuster. Lollie and Don rented a house for about a month with a revolving cast of characters coming and going throughout the weeks. We were up for week two-ish, so Mom, Dad, and I came busting in ready to party.

As usual, we were received with HonHugs.™ These are special, meaningful hugs that say things you would be too embarrassed to say out loud in such tough, capable company. There was a quick distribution and cataloging of snack foods before we settled in to commence the storytelling. We began by discussing aches and pains, my debut into perimenopause, assorted grandchildren, upcoming plans, things that have gone awry since our last meeting, Dad and Laurie's shared enthusiasm for Aldi grocery stores, business ventures, recipies and medication-induced senility. Then we ate cookies.

We had overcast skies during our visit, so our time on the sand consisted of two beach walks that only the women participated in. Who knows what the Papas got up to while we were gone - though I do think naps were involved. Though not unheard of in previous HonUnions, the ready acceptance of pausing the fun for afternoon naps is a sign of the collective aging of the clan. 

In addition to the snacking and happy chatter, we played lots of Shanghai, admired the sunsets, spent long stretches watching a small, digital frame of Lollie and Don's family photos, and we doted on an ailing Gus. 

Ol' Gus was having some trouble with his back legs. It was a new, fairly sudden thing, and we could see it getting worse in real time. It was hard for him to move and hard to help him move. Lollie covered the floor in yoga mats to help him keep his footing. Papa Don helped him up and down the stairs. Gus didn't want to be left alone and struggled to help himself to what he needed. It was tough to watch, and worse to do research on it and realize that it was likely going to get worse quickly. I felt guilty being in Lollie and Don's space while they prepared for the incoming heartache. They'd just lost their other pup, Doc, three weeks ago. This is completely unfair.
But as I mentioned, they are tough capable people, so whether they wanted to or not, they just kept moving forward.

There's no telling what I said to earn this classic Don expression.

On our last evening we had the quintessential HonUnion experience. In once fell swoop, we all developed the giggles and played a bleary-eyed game of Mexican Train. We laughed at the music, laughed at the commentary delivered in regional accents, laughed at our fairly unanimous determination to keep Dad from winning. We became slaphappy, too sleepy to keep playing, too amused to quit. We made concessions to make the game a little shorter, and each time, Don would sneak in a different starting point that would prolong the game. We'd all groan and complain, but immediately accept the news and continue playing.

In their delirium the parents become terribly amused by all the ways their bodies are failing them. They laughed about things they can no longer do, as if that's funny at all. Then they laughed that I was next. "You know what else Aldi has great prices on?" someone would say, as if the previous comments on painful mobility was a minor bother. They'd argue over who's turn it was, no one remembering where we were in the game. "Who sings this song?" someone would ask, and then an argument would take place.
Moment's later you'd hear, "Isn't it my turn? You just went!"
"No I didn't... did I?"
There would be random outbursts of joining the chorus of the song playing, Don was quietly mumbling "turd" every 10-15 seconds, and a few times, Dad let out a singsong "maaww" sound for no reason. It was like being at the old folks home at sundown.

Speaking of, here are our attempts at a family photo.

Our departure the next morning was reluctant. We had a final round of breakfast foods and hot beverages, and then debated which snacks to bring home and which ones to leave for the family. Will n' Katie n' family were coming up next, so Dad left them his Halloween-themed Oreo's and other snacks that no one wanted themselves to eat but couldn't turn down.
We received our goodbye HonHugs™and piled into the car in that post-fun stupor. As usual, it was a soul soothing visit, a selfish filling of the cup. Even getting a preview of life tending to "the dementia ward" didn't put me off, so you know I'm in deep. 

The next day we got the news: Gus took a dramatic turn and went on home to find Doc.
Here's to Big Happy and the joy he effortlessly created.