I keep this little box of doo-dads next to my recliner, where I do all my crochet projects and where I occasionally trim my nails (or the cat's nails!) Inside the box, along with circular knitting hooks, nail trimmers, a row counter, and crochet hooks, is a pair of scissors that my son gave me, and every time I have to trim a piece of crochet, I use these scissors. They're very sharp and fit perfectly in the decorative box. Every time I use them, I think of my son and say a little prayer for him.
I last saw Jason in the Spring of 2013. He and his daughter came to visit me, driving across the desert from Las Vegas, Nevada. He was supposed to have arranged for dialysis here in Albuquerque, and I don't know if he actually did it. He had talked about feeling that he didn't need it if he had a session right before he left. He wasn't overly cautious about taking care of his health, which is what killed him, ultimately.
We had a really nice time for the first few days. I enjoyed showing them around Old Town, which is very near my house. We ate at various restaurants, which was a real treat for me, since I never do that. Jason took a lot of pictures. It was wonderful to have him here. A couple days before they were to leave, he ran out of money. He had received some money in back pay from Social Security, but he had spent most of it on some guns he had planned to sell at the gun show when he returned to Vegas. It is ironic that my son was involved in selling guns when I am so anti-gun, but there was nothing I could do about it, so I made no comment.
My apartment is small. I had only a few days' notice they were coming, it was the end of the month, and I had very little food in the house and no money. In other words, the status quo. My granddaughter was preoccupied with games on her dad's phone. At that age, adults are boring. The trip exhausted my son, and he kept falling asleep in the chair. He was very ill.
One day, when I wasn't looking, he grabbed a special pair of sewing scissors from my desk and bent them by using them as if they were a screwdriver, I got upset because they were given to me by a special friend. He got testy with me. I had to straighten him out. He apologized and later bought me that pair of scissors pictured above. At first, I was a little disappointed, because they were completely different than the pair he had ruined, but I thanked him, knowing that he was stressed and sick and I could always buy another pair that suited me better but I could never get another day with my son. Later, I realized the scissors he gave me were perfect for my crochet projects.
I felt bad about our little spat. When they were leaving, I hugged my son for the last time and told him I was sorry that the visit wasn't perfect. He was very sweet and gave me a good hug. I will never forget what he said. "Next time I see you, it will be better."
A few months later, he drove himself to the hospital. He had pneumonia. Very quickly, it turned into a variety of issues. He had an infection around his heart. It went from bad to worse. Soon, he was gone.
Jason's birthday is coming up in a few days, and in another 3 months, the first year anniversary of his death. I have been thinking about him a lot, and especially his last words to me, "Next time I see you, it will be better." From your lips to God's ears, my boy. From your lips to God's ears.
Silver Rose
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