Weekend before last I met two people and their chairs.

I answered an ad on Craigslist for an Italian leather chair for sale. I like the way it looked in the picture so I called to arrange to look at it.  I drove to a duplex in Lacey and knocked on the door. Deborah was very energetic, loud, small, and powerful. I entered her home and immediately fell in love with the chair. It is big and soft and comfy. Deborah being a small woman appeared tiny in this huge Italian leather chair. It seemed like an unlikely chair for her. I would look at her and imagine something smaller and daintier. Deborah told me about how she just bought a $48,000.00 RV and is selling everything in her home and will be living in the RV. Her husband is in the military and they have to move to Virginia soon. She explained that every time they have to move they have to pay first/last/deposit for wherever they live and it makes more sense to have an RV. She showed me the brochure for it. Let me tell you, she bought a HOME.

Deborah told me that she is really attached to the chair. It is her “Zen” chair. She is a nanny by profession and she used the chair as her sanctuary, curling up in it with her kindle book and her electric fireplace glowing at her feet. She expressed happiness knowing that the chair was going to a good home where it will be loved.

As we talked she shared with me how she had been hit by a car a few years ago and badly injured. She spent two years in therapy. She said she had to learn to walk. She shared how she grew up hunting and that she is still an avid hunter. She said that if you can’t skin a deer yourself you have no business hunting. I love her zest. Sitting on her bed (she toured me around the duplex too) listening to how excited she was to get out of Olympia and be on the road made me little envious. However, I am not sure I would have the moxie or gas money to drag an entire house with me across the US.

So here is this woman embarking on a major geographical and lifestyle change. She is letting go of dear material possessions so that she can travel less burdened. Dear Deborah, you tackle big things and I respect you for it. I bet you could take down a Grisly with a “Boo!”.

Yes, I bought the chair. It is lovely.

The next day I took my dogs to a field by some new construction near Capitol Medical Center. There was a man sitting in a wheelchair talking on a cell phone on the side of the dead end road. I parked and asked him quietly if it was okay to run my dogs in the field. He said “Yeah! Go ahead!”.

So ran out into the field with Gus and Larry and played for awhile. Gus was intrigued with the guy in the wheelchair as we came back to the car. He started yowling in a high pitch and wagging his tail. I asked the guy if he could say hi to him and the guy welcomed us over.

His name is Richard. He is a resident of an assisted living facility across the street and was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago.  I sat down on the pavement and talked with him for a while. I wanted to know what the assisted living facility is like because my brother may eventually need assisted living. According to Richard, who had come from a big house with his wife and two of his grown children living there, the one room space isn’t bad. He told me that he isn’t here for long so why complain. Richard said that he gets out and about and his wife visits him and brings his dog to see him.  I asked him “Are you doing stuff?” and he knew exactly what I meant. He replied “Some people have a bucket list. I don’t. I’ve done it. I have had three lives.” He then told me about his early years as a basketball hopeful until his thumbs were crushed. He did not tell me how they were crushed. But looking at his thumbs I noticed they were unusually large and guessed that they had once been his or someones toes. Maybe it was big scar tissue from grafting. I didn’t stare or ask. I felt fortunate that he was sharing with me at all. He described his years following the Grateful Dead. Later he got a degree and worked as a computer programmer for years. I suspected there was more and asked him if he rode bikes. Yes indeed he did. He was a biker too. He also said he did some logging. Richard is 55 years old and I totally believe him. Sometimes I look back on all the amazing things I have experienced and marvel at how it all got crammed into so few years. He told me that he is looking forward to seeing what death is like. Richard said he thought about suicide and that he just can’t do it. I shared with him about how my uncle, who was dying of lung cancer, had driven himself to his favorite fishing hole with his rifle and drank a bottle of whiskey on the shore and couldn’t do it. He was found passed out with his rifle.

I asked Richard  about the wheelchair. He said that because he is on oxygen he needs it to roll the tank around outside. He also added that it provides a seat anywhere he walks. He wasn’t happy about it at first but now he likes having it with him because of the seat.  Our chat came to an end and I thanked him for sharing with me.  Richard stood up from the wheelchair. He is tall. I mean freakishly tall. I didn’t see it when he was seated, even when he mentioned he was a basketball hopeful. He looked so meek and sickly and crumpled into the wheelchair. He stood tall and rolled the chair away. I think that chair skewed my perception.

I suspect that was the first and very last time I will see Richard. Death is part of who we all are. Here is a man embarking on a new life journey. Both Deborah and Richard have let go of dear material objects and adapted to a smaller domestic space.  Richard and Deborah have both found comfort in unlikely chairs.  I sincerely wish them both safe and fantastic journeys.

Weekend before last I met two people and their chairs.

I answered an ad on Craigslist for an Italian leather chair for sale. I like the way it looked in the picture so I called to arrange to look at it.  I drove to a duplex in Lacey and knocked on the door. Deborah was very energetic, loud, small, and powerful. I entered her home and immediately fell in love with the chair. It is big and soft and comfy. Deborah being a small woman appeared tiny in this huge Italian leather chair. It seemed like an unlikely chair for her. I would look at her and imagine something smaller and daintier. Deborah told me about how she just bought a $48,000.00 RV and is selling everything in her home and will be living in the RV. Her husband is in the military and they have to move to Virginia soon. She explained that every time they have to move they have to pay first/last/deposit for wherever they live and it makes more sense to have an RV. She showed me the brochure for it. Let me tell you, she bought a HOME.

Deborah told me that she is really attached to the chair. It is her “Zen” chair. She is a nanny by profession and she used the chair as her sanctuary, curling up in it with her kindle book and her electric fireplace glowing at her feet. She expressed happiness knowing that the chair was going to a good home where it will be loved.

As we talked she shared with me how she had been hit by a car a few years ago and badly injured. She spent two years in therapy. She said she had to learn to walk. She shared how she grew up hunting and that she is still an avid hunter. She said that if you can’t skin a deer yourself you have no business hunting. I love her zest. Sitting on her bed (she toured me around the duplex too) listening to how excited she was to get out of Olympia and be on the road made me little envious. However, I am not sure I would have the moxie or gas money to drag an entire house with me across the US.

So here is this woman embarking on a major geographical and lifestyle change. She is letting go of dear material possessions so that she can travel less burdened. Dear Deborah, you tackle big things and I respect you for it. I bet you could take down a Grisly with a “Boo!”.

Yes, I bought the chair. It is lovely.

The next day I took my dogs to a field by some new construction near Capitol Medical Center. There was a man sitting in a wheelchair talking on a cell phone on the side of the dead end road. I parked and asked him quietly if it was okay to run my dogs in the field. He said “Yeah! Go ahead!”.

So ran out into the field with Gus and Larry and played for awhile. Gus was intrigued with the guy in the wheelchair as we came back to the car. He started yowling in a high pitch and wagging his tail. I asked the guy if he could say hi to him and the guy welcomed us over.

His name is Richard. He is a resident of an assisted living facility across the street and was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago.  I sat down on the pavement and talked with him for a while. I wanted to know what the assisted living facility is like because my brother may eventually need assisted living. According to Richard, who had come from a big house with his wife and two of his grown children living there, the one room space isn’t bad. He told me that he isn’t here for long so why complain. Richard said that he gets out and about and his wife visits him and brings his dog to see him.  I asked him “Are you doing stuff?” and he knew exactly what I meant. He replied “Some people have a bucket list. I don’t. I’ve done it. I have had three lives.” He then told me about his early years as a basketball hopeful until his thumbs were crushed. He did not tell me how they were crushed. But looking at his thumbs I noticed they were unusually large and guessed that they had once been his or someones toes. Maybe it was big scar tissue from grafting. I didn’t stare or ask. I felt fortunate that he was sharing with me at all. He described his years following the Grateful Dead. Later he got a degree and worked as a computer programmer for years. I suspected there was more and asked him if he rode bikes. Yes indeed he did. He was a biker too. He also said he did some logging. Richard is 55 years old and I totally believe him. Sometimes I look back on all the amazing things I have experienced and marvel at how it all got crammed into so few years. He told me that he is looking forward to seeing what death is like. Richard said he thought about suicide and that he just can’t do it. I shared with him about how my uncle, who was dying of lung cancer, had driven himself to his favorite fishing hole with his rifle and drank a bottle of whiskey on the shore and couldn’t do it. He was found passed out with his rifle.

I asked Richard  about the wheelchair. He said that because he is on oxygen he needs it to roll the tank around outside. He also added that it provides a seat anywhere he walks. He wasn’t happy about it at first but now he likes having it with him because of the seat.  Our chat came to an end and I thanked him for sharing with me.  Richard stood up from the wheelchair. He is tall. I mean freakishly tall. I didn’t see it when he was seated, even when he mentioned he was a basketball hopeful. He looked so meek and sickly and crumpled into the wheelchair. He stood tall and rolled the chair away. I think that chair skewed my perception.

I suspect that was the first and very last time I will see Richard. Death is part of who we all are. Here is a man embarking on a new life journey. Both Deborah and Richard have let go of dear material objects and adapted to a smaller domestic space.  Richard and Deborah have both found comfort in unlikely chairs.  I sincerely wish them both safe and fantastic journeys.

Weekend before last I met two people and their chairs.

I answered an ad on Craigslist for an Italian leather chair for sale. I like the way it looked in the picture so I called to arrange to look at it.  I drove to a duplex in Lacey and knocked on the door. Deborah was very energetic, loud, small, and powerful. I entered her home and immediately fell in love with the chair. It is big and soft and comfy. Deborah being a small woman appeared tiny in this huge Italian leather chair. It seemed like an unlikely chair for her. I would look at her and imagine something smaller and daintier. Deborah told me about how she just bought a $48,000.00 RV and is selling everything in her home and will be living in the RV. Her husband is in the military and they have to move to Virginia soon. She explained that every time they have to move they have to pay first/last/deposit for wherever they live and it makes more sense to have an RV. She showed me the brochure for it. Let me tell you, she bought a HOME.

Deborah told me that she is really attached to the chair. It is her “Zen” chair. She is a nanny by profession and she used the chair as her sanctuary, curling up in it with her kindle book and her electric fireplace glowing at her feet. She expressed happiness knowing that the chair was going to a good home where it will be loved.

As we talked she shared with me how she had been hit by a car a few years ago and badly injured. She spent two years in therapy. She said she had to learn to walk. She shared how she grew up hunting and that she is still an avid hunter. She said that if you can’t skin a deer yourself you have no business hunting. I love her zest. Sitting on her bed (she toured me around the duplex too) listening to how excited she was to get out of Olympia and be on the road made me little envious. However, I am not sure I would have the moxie or gas money to drag an entire house with me across the US.

So here is this woman embarking on a major geographical and lifestyle change. She is letting go of dear material possessions so that she can travel less burdened. Dear Deborah, you tackle big things and I respect you for it. I bet you could take down a Grisly with a “Boo!”.

Yes, I bought the chair. It is lovely.

The next day I took my dogs to a field by some new construction near Capitol Medical Center. There was a man sitting in a wheelchair talking on a cell phone on the side of the dead end road. I parked and asked him quietly if it was okay to run my dogs in the field. He said “Yeah! Go ahead!”.

So ran out into the field with Gus and Larry and played for awhile. Gus was intrigued with the guy in the wheelchair as we came back to the car. He started yowling in a high pitch and wagging his tail. I asked the guy if he could say hi to him and the guy welcomed us over.

His name is Richard. He is a resident of an assisted living facility across the street and was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago.  I sat down on the pavement and talked with him for a while. I wanted to know what the assisted living facility is like because my brother may eventually need assisted living. According to Richard, who had come from a big house with his wife and two of his grown children living there, the one room space isn’t bad. He told me that he isn’t here for long so why complain. Richard said that he gets out and about and his wife visits him and brings his dog to see him.  I asked him “Are you doing stuff?” and he knew exactly what I meant. He replied “Some people have a bucket list. I don’t. I’ve done it. I have had three lives.” He then told me about his early years as a basketball hopeful until his thumbs were crushed. He did not tell me how they were crushed. But looking at his thumbs I noticed they were unusually large and guessed that they had once been his or someones toes. Maybe it was big scar tissue from grafting. I didn’t stare or ask. I felt fortunate that he was sharing with me at all. He described his years following the Grateful Dead. Later he got a degree and worked as a computer programmer for years. I suspected there was more and asked him if he rode bikes. Yes indeed he did. He was a biker too. He also said he did some logging. Richard is 55 years old and I totally believe him. Sometimes I look back on all the amazing things I have experienced and marvel at how it all got crammed into so few years. He told me that he is looking forward to seeing what death is like. Richard said he thought about suicide and that he just can’t do it. I shared with him about how my uncle, who was dying of lung cancer, had driven himself to his favorite fishing hole with his rifle and drank a bottle of whiskey on the shore and couldn’t do it. He was found passed out with his rifle.

I asked Richard  about the wheelchair. He said that because he is on oxygen he needs it to roll the tank around outside. He also added that it provides a seat anywhere he walks. He wasn’t happy about it at first but now he likes having it with him because of the seat.  Our chat came to an end and I thanked him for sharing with me.  Richard stood up from the wheelchair. He is tall. I mean freakishly tall. I didn’t see it when he was seated, even when he mentioned he was a basketball hopeful. He looked so meek and sickly and crumpled into the wheelchair. He stood tall and rolled the chair away. I think that chair skewed my perception.

I suspect that was the first and very last time I will see Richard. Death is part of who we all are. Here is a man embarking on a new life journey. Both Deborah and Richard have let go of dear material objects and adapted to a smaller domestic space.  Richard and Deborah have both found comfort in unlikely chairs.  I sincerely wish them both safe and fantastic journeys.

Weekend before last I met two people and their chairs.

I answered an ad on Craigslist for an Italian leather chair for sale. I like the way it looked in the picture so I called to arrange to look at it.  I drove to a duplex in Lacey and knocked on the door. Deborah was very energetic, loud, small, and powerful. I entered her home and immediately fell in love with the chair. It is big and soft and comfy. Deborah being a small woman appeared tiny in this huge Italian leather chair. It seemed like an unlikely chair for her. I would look at her and imagine something smaller and daintier. Deborah told me about how she just bought a $48,000.00 RV and is selling everything in her home and will be living in the RV. Her husband is in the military and they have to move to Virginia soon. She explained that every time they have to move they have to pay first/last/deposit for wherever they live and it makes more sense to have an RV. She showed me the brochure for it. Let me tell you, she bought a HOME.

Deborah told me that she is really attached to the chair. It is her “Zen” chair. She is a nanny by profession and she used the chair as her sanctuary, curling up in it with her kindle book and her electric fireplace glowing at her feet. She expressed happiness knowing that the chair was going to a good home where it will be loved.

As we talked she shared with me how she had been hit by a car a few years ago and badly injured. She spent two years in therapy. She said she had to learn to walk. She shared how she grew up hunting and that she is still an avid hunter. She said that if you can’t skin a deer yourself you have no business hunting. I love her zest. Sitting on her bed (she toured me around the duplex too) listening to how excited she was to get out of Olympia and be on the road made me little envious. However, I am not sure I would have the moxie or gas money to drag an entire house with me across the US.

So here is this woman embarking on a major geographical and lifestyle change. She is letting go of dear material possessions so that she can travel less burdened. Dear Deborah, you tackle big things and I respect you for it. I bet you could take down a Grisly with a “Boo!”.

Yes, I bought the chair. It is lovely.

The next day I took my dogs to a field by some new construction near Capitol Medical Center. There was a man sitting in a wheelchair talking on a cell phone on the side of the dead end road. I parked and asked him quietly if it was okay to run my dogs in the field. He said “Yeah! Go ahead!”.

So ran out into the field with Gus and Larry and played for awhile. Gus was intrigued with the guy in the wheelchair as we came back to the car. He started yowling in a high pitch and wagging his tail. I asked the guy if he could say hi to him and the guy welcomed us over.

His name is Richard. He is a resident of an assisted living facility across the street and was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago.  I sat down on the pavement and talked with him for a while. I wanted to know what the assisted living facility is like because my brother may eventually need assisted living. According to Richard, who had come from a big house with his wife and two of his grown children living there, the one room space isn’t bad. He told me that he isn’t here for long so why complain. Richard said that he gets out and about and his wife visits him and brings his dog to see him.  I asked him “Are you doing stuff?” and he knew exactly what I meant. He replied “Some people have a bucket list. I don’t. I’ve done it. I have had three lives.” He then told me about his early years as a basketball hopeful until his thumbs were crushed. He did not tell me how they were crushed. But looking at his thumbs I noticed they were unusually large and guessed that they had once been his or someones toes. Maybe it was big scar tissue from grafting. I didn’t stare or ask. I felt fortunate that he was sharing with me at all. He described his years following the Grateful Dead. Later he got a degree and worked as a computer programmer for years. I suspected there was more and asked him if he rode bikes. Yes indeed he did. He was a biker too. He also said he did some logging. Richard is 55 years old and I totally believe him. Sometimes I look back on all the amazing things I have experienced and marvel at how it all got crammed into so few years. He told me that he is looking forward to seeing what death is like. Richard said he thought about suicide and that he just can’t do it. I shared with him about how my uncle, who was dying of lung cancer, had driven himself to his favorite fishing hole with his rifle and drank a bottle of whiskey on the shore and couldn’t do it. He was found passed out with his rifle.

I asked Richard  about the wheelchair. He said that because he is on oxygen he needs it to roll the tank around outside. He also added that it provides a seat anywhere he walks. He wasn’t happy about it at first but now he likes having it with him because of the seat.  Our chat came to an end and I thanked him for sharing with me.  Richard stood up from the wheelchair. He is tall. I mean freakishly tall. I didn’t see it when he was seated, even when he mentioned he was a basketball hopeful. He looked so meek and sickly and crumpled into the wheelchair. He stood tall and rolled the chair away. I think that chair skewed my perception.

I suspect that was the first and very last time I will see Richard. Death is part of who we all are. Here is a man embarking on a new life journey. Both Deborah and Richard have let go of dear material objects and adapted to a smaller domestic space.  Richard and Deborah have both found comfort in unlikely chairs.  I sincerely wish them both safe and fantastic journeys.

Weekend before last I met two people and their chairs.

I answered an ad on Craigslist for an Italian leather chair for sale. I like the way it looked in the picture so I called to arrange to look at it.  I drove to a duplex in Lacey and knocked on the door. Deborah was very energetic, loud, small, and powerful. I entered her home and immediately fell in love with the chair. It is big and soft and comfy. Deborah being a small woman appeared tiny in this huge Italian leather chair. It seemed like an unlikely chair for her. I would look at her and imagine something smaller and daintier. Deborah told me about how she just bought a $48,000.00 RV and is selling everything in her home and will be living in the RV. Her husband is in the military and they have to move to Virginia soon. She explained that every time they have to move they have to pay first/last/deposit for wherever they live and it makes more sense to have an RV. She showed me the brochure for it. Let me tell you, she bought a HOME.

Deborah told me that she is really attached to the chair. It is her “Zen” chair. She is a nanny by profession and she used the chair as her sanctuary, curling up in it with her kindle book and her electric fireplace glowing at her feet. She expressed happiness knowing that the chair was going to a good home where it will be loved.

As we talked she shared with me how she had been hit by a car a few years ago and badly injured. She spent two years in therapy. She said she had to learn to walk. She shared how she grew up hunting and that she is still an avid hunter. She said that if you can’t skin a deer yourself you have no business hunting. I love her zest. Sitting on her bed (she toured me around the duplex too) listening to how excited she was to get out of Olympia and be on the road made me little envious. However, I am not sure I would have the moxie or gas money to drag an entire house with me across the US.

So here is this woman embarking on a major geographical and lifestyle change. She is letting go of dear material possessions so that she can travel less burdened. Dear Deborah, you tackle big things and I respect you for it. I bet you could take down a Grisly with a “Boo!”.

Yes, I bought the chair. It is lovely.

The next day I took my dogs to a field by some new construction near Capitol Medical Center. There was a man sitting in a wheelchair talking on a cell phone on the side of the dead end road. I parked and asked him quietly if it was okay to run my dogs in the field. He said “Yeah! Go ahead!”.

So ran out into the field with Gus and Larry and played for awhile. Gus was intrigued with the guy in the wheelchair as we came back to the car. He started yowling in a high pitch and wagging his tail. I asked the guy if he could say hi to him and the guy welcomed us over.

His name is Richard. He is a resident of an assisted living facility across the street and was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago.  I sat down on the pavement and talked with him for a while. I wanted to know what the assisted living facility is like because my brother may eventually need assisted living. According to Richard, who had come from a big house with his wife and two of his grown children living there, the one room space isn’t bad. He told me that he isn’t here for long so why complain. Richard said that he gets out and about and his wife visits him and brings his dog to see him.  I asked him “Are you doing stuff?” and he knew exactly what I meant. He replied “Some people have a bucket list. I don’t. I’ve done it. I have had three lives.” He then told me about his early years as a basketball hopeful until his thumbs were crushed. He did not tell me how they were crushed. But looking at his thumbs I noticed they were unusually large and guessed that they had once been his or someones toes. Maybe it was big scar tissue from grafting. I didn’t stare or ask. I felt fortunate that he was sharing with me at all. He described his years following the Grateful Dead. Later he got a degree and worked as a computer programmer for years. I suspected there was more and asked him if he rode bikes. Yes indeed he did. He was a biker too. He also said he did some logging. Richard is 55 years old and I totally believe him. Sometimes I look back on all the amazing things I have experienced and marvel at how it all got crammed into so few years. He told me that he is looking forward to seeing what death is like. Richard said he thought about suicide and that he just can’t do it. I shared with him about how my uncle, who was dying of lung cancer, had driven himself to his favorite fishing hole with his rifle and drank a bottle of whiskey on the shore and couldn’t do it. He was found passed out with his rifle.

I asked Richard  about the wheelchair. He said that because he is on oxygen he needs it to roll the tank around outside. He also added that it provides a seat anywhere he walks. He wasn’t happy about it at first but now he likes having it with him because of the seat.  Our chat came to an end and I thanked him for sharing with me.  Richard stood up from the wheelchair. He is tall. I mean freakishly tall. I didn’t see it when he was seated, even when he mentioned he was a basketball hopeful. He looked so meek and sickly and crumpled into the wheelchair. He stood tall and rolled the chair away. I think that chair skewed my perception.

I suspect that was the first and very last time I will see Richard. Death is part of who we all are. Here is a man embarking on a new life journey. Both Deborah and Richard have let go of dear material objects and adapted to a smaller domestic space.  Richard and Deborah have both found comfort in unlikely chairs.  I sincerely wish them both safe and fantastic journeys.

Weekend before last I met two people and their chairs.

I answered an ad on Craigslist for an Italian leather chair for sale. I like the way it looked in the picture so I called to arrange to look at it.  I drove to a duplex in Lacey and knocked on the door. Deborah was very energetic, loud, small, and powerful. I entered her home and immediately fell in love with the chair. It is big and soft and comfy. Deborah being a small woman appeared tiny in this huge Italian leather chair. It seemed like an unlikely chair for her. I would look at her and imagine something smaller and daintier. Deborah told me about how she just bought a $48,000.00 RV and is selling everything in her home and will be living in the RV. Her husband is in the military and they have to move to Virginia soon. She explained that every time they have to move they have to pay first/last/deposit for wherever they live and it makes more sense to have an RV. She showed me the brochure for it. Let me tell you, she bought a HOME.

Deborah told me that she is really attached to the chair. It is her “Zen” chair. She is a nanny by profession and she used the chair as her sanctuary, curling up in it with her kindle book and her electric fireplace glowing at her feet. She expressed happiness knowing that the chair was going to a good home where it will be loved.

As we talked she shared with me how she had been hit by a car a few years ago and badly injured. She spent two years in therapy. She said she had to learn to walk. She shared how she grew up hunting and that she is still an avid hunter. She said that if you can’t skin a deer yourself you have no business hunting. I love her zest. Sitting on her bed (she toured me around the duplex too) listening to how excited she was to get out of Olympia and be on the road made me little envious. However, I am not sure I would have the moxie or gas money to drag an entire house with me across the US.

So here is this woman embarking on a major geographical and lifestyle change. She is letting go of dear material possessions so that she can travel less burdened. Dear Deborah, you tackle big things and I respect you for it. I bet you could take down a Grisly with a “Boo!”.

Yes, I bought the chair. It is lovely.

The next day I took my dogs to a field by some new construction near Capitol Medical Center. There was a man sitting in a wheelchair talking on a cell phone on the side of the dead end road. I parked and asked him quietly if it was okay to run my dogs in the field. He said “Yeah! Go ahead!”.

So ran out into the field with Gus and Larry and played for awhile. Gus was intrigued with the guy in the wheelchair as we came back to the car. He started yowling in a high pitch and wagging his tail. I asked the guy if he could say hi to him and the guy welcomed us over.

His name is Richard. He is a resident of an assisted living facility across the street and was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago.  I sat down on the pavement and talked with him for a while. I wanted to know what the assisted living facility is like because my brother may eventually need assisted living. According to Richard, who had come from a big house with his wife and two of his grown children living there, the one room space isn’t bad. He told me that he isn’t here for long so why complain. Richard said that he gets out and about and his wife visits him and brings his dog to see him.  I asked him “Are you doing stuff?” and he knew exactly what I meant. He replied “Some people have a bucket list. I don’t. I’ve done it. I have had three lives.” He then told me about his early years as a basketball hopeful until his thumbs were crushed. He did not tell me how they were crushed. But looking at his thumbs I noticed they were unusually large and guessed that they had once been his or someones toes. Maybe it was big scar tissue from grafting. I didn’t stare or ask. I felt fortunate that he was sharing with me at all. He described his years following the Grateful Dead. Later he got a degree and worked as a computer programmer for years. I suspected there was more and asked him if he rode bikes. Yes indeed he did. He was a biker too. He also said he did some logging. Richard is 55 years old and I totally believe him. Sometimes I look back on all the amazing things I have experienced and marvel at how it all got crammed into so few years. He told me that he is looking forward to seeing what death is like. Richard said he thought about suicide and that he just can’t do it. I shared with him about how my uncle, who was dying of lung cancer, had driven himself to his favorite fishing hole with his rifle and drank a bottle of whiskey on the shore and couldn’t do it. He was found passed out with his rifle.

I asked Richard  about the wheelchair. He said that because he is on oxygen he needs it to roll the tank around outside. He also added that it provides a seat anywhere he walks. He wasn’t happy about it at first but now he likes having it with him because of the seat.  Our chat came to an end and I thanked him for sharing with me.  Richard stood up from the wheelchair. He is tall. I mean freakishly tall. I didn’t see it when he was seated, even when he mentioned he was a basketball hopeful. He looked so meek and sickly and crumpled into the wheelchair. He stood tall and rolled the chair away. I think that chair skewed my perception.

I suspect that was the first and very last time I will see Richard. Death is part of who we all are. Here is a man embarking on a new life journey. Both Deborah and Richard have let go of dear material objects and adapted to a smaller domestic space.  Richard and Deborah have both found comfort in unlikely chairs.  I sincerely wish them both safe and fantastic journeys.

Weekend before last I met two people and their chairs.

I answered an ad on Craigslist for an Italian leather chair for sale. I like the way it looked in the picture so I called to arrange to look at it.  I drove to a duplex in Lacey and knocked on the door. Deborah was very energetic, loud, small, and powerful. I entered her home and immediately fell in love with the chair. It is big and soft and comfy. Deborah being a small woman appeared tiny in this huge Italian leather chair. It seemed like an unlikely chair for her. I would look at her and imagine something smaller and daintier. Deborah told me about how she just bought a $48,000.00 RV and is selling everything in her home and will be living in the RV. Her husband is in the military and they have to move to Virginia soon. She explained that every time they have to move they have to pay first/last/deposit for wherever they live and it makes more sense to have an RV. She showed me the brochure for it. Let me tell you, she bought a HOME.

Deborah told me that she is really attached to the chair. It is her “Zen” chair. She is a nanny by profession and she used the chair as her sanctuary, curling up in it with her kindle book and her electric fireplace glowing at her feet. She expressed happiness knowing that the chair was going to a good home where it will be loved.

As we talked she shared with me how she had been hit by a car a few years ago and badly injured. She spent two years in therapy. She said she had to learn to walk. She shared how she grew up hunting and that she is still an avid hunter. She said that if you can’t skin a deer yourself you have no business hunting. I love her zest. Sitting on her bed (she toured me around the duplex too) listening to how excited she was to get out of Olympia and be on the road made me little envious. However, I am not sure I would have the moxie or gas money to drag an entire house with me across the US.

So here is this woman embarking on a major geographical and lifestyle change. She is letting go of dear material possessions so that she can travel less burdened. Dear Deborah, you tackle big things and I respect you for it. I bet you could take down a Grisly with a “Boo!”.

Yes, I bought the chair. It is lovely.

The next day I took my dogs to a field by some new construction near Capitol Medical Center. There was a man sitting in a wheelchair talking on a cell phone on the side of the dead end road. I parked and asked him quietly if it was okay to run my dogs in the field. He said “Yeah! Go ahead!”.

So ran out into the field with Gus and Larry and played for awhile. Gus was intrigued with the guy in the wheelchair as we came back to the car. He started yowling in a high pitch and wagging his tail. I asked the guy if he could say hi to him and the guy welcomed us over.

His name is Richard. He is a resident of an assisted living facility across the street and was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago.  I sat down on the pavement and talked with him for a while. I wanted to know what the assisted living facility is like because my brother may eventually need assisted living. According to Richard, who had come from a big house with his wife and two of his grown children living there, the one room space isn’t bad. He told me that he isn’t here for long so why complain. Richard said that he gets out and about and his wife visits him and brings his dog to see him.  I asked him “Are you doing stuff?” and he knew exactly what I meant. He replied “Some people have a bucket list. I don’t. I’ve done it. I have had three lives.” He then told me about his early years as a basketball hopeful until his thumbs were crushed. He did not tell me how they were crushed. But looking at his thumbs I noticed they were unusually large and guessed that they had once been his or someones toes. Maybe it was big scar tissue from grafting. I didn’t stare or ask. I felt fortunate that he was sharing with me at all. He described his years following the Grateful Dead. Later he got a degree and worked as a computer programmer for years. I suspected there was more and asked him if he rode bikes. Yes indeed he did. He was a biker too. He also said he did some logging. Richard is 55 years old and I totally believe him. Sometimes I look back on all the amazing things I have experienced and marvel at how it all got crammed into so few years. He told me that he is looking forward to seeing what death is like. Richard said he thought about suicide and that he just can’t do it. I shared with him about how my uncle, who was dying of lung cancer, had driven himself to his favorite fishing hole with his rifle and drank a bottle of whiskey on the shore and couldn’t do it. He was found passed out with his rifle.

I asked Richard  about the wheelchair. He said that because he is on oxygen he needs it to roll the tank around outside. He also added that it provides a seat anywhere he walks. He wasn’t happy about it at first but now he likes having it with him because of the seat.  Our chat came to an end and I thanked him for sharing with me.  Richard stood up from the wheelchair. He is tall. I mean freakishly tall. I didn’t see it when he was seated, even when he mentioned he was a basketball hopeful. He looked so meek and sickly and crumpled into the wheelchair. He stood tall and rolled the chair away. I think that chair skewed my perception.

I suspect that was the first and very last time I will see Richard. Death is part of who we all are. Here is a man embarking on a new life journey. Both Deborah and Richard have let go of dear material objects and adapted to a smaller domestic space.  Richard and Deborah have both found comfort in unlikely chairs.  I sincerely wish them both safe and fantastic journeys.

Weekend before last I met two people and their chairs.

I answered an ad on Craigslist for an Italian leather chair for sale. I like the way it looked in the picture so I called to arrange to look at it.  I drove to a duplex in Lacey and knocked on the door. Deborah was very energetic, loud, small, and powerful. I entered her home and immediately fell in love with the chair. It is big and soft and comfy. Deborah being a small woman appeared tiny in this huge Italian leather chair. It seemed like an unlikely chair for her. I would look at her and imagine something smaller and daintier. Deborah told me about how she just bought a $48,000.00 RV and is selling everything in her home and will be living in the RV. Her husband is in the military and they have to move to Virginia soon. She explained that every time they have to move they have to pay first/last/deposit for wherever they live and it makes more sense to have an RV. She showed me the brochure for it. Let me tell you, she bought a HOME.

Deborah told me that she is really attached to the chair. It is her “Zen” chair. She is a nanny by profession and she used the chair as her sanctuary, curling up in it with her kindle book and her electric fireplace glowing at her feet. She expressed happiness knowing that the chair was going to a good home where it will be loved.

As we talked she shared with me how she had been hit by a car a few years ago and badly injured. She spent two years in therapy. She said she had to learn to walk. She shared how she grew up hunting and that she is still an avid hunter. She said that if you can’t skin a deer yourself you have no business hunting. I love her zest. Sitting on her bed (she toured me around the duplex too) listening to how excited she was to get out of Olympia and be on the road made me little envious. However, I am not sure I would have the moxie or gas money to drag an entire house with me across the US.

So here is this woman embarking on a major geographical and lifestyle change. She is letting go of dear material possessions so that she can travel less burdened. Dear Deborah, you tackle big things and I respect you for it. I bet you could take down a Grisly with a “Boo!”.

Yes, I bought the chair. It is lovely.

The next day I took my dogs to a field by some new construction near Capitol Medical Center. There was a man sitting in a wheelchair talking on a cell phone on the side of the dead end road. I parked and asked him quietly if it was okay to run my dogs in the field. He said “Yeah! Go ahead!”.

So ran out into the field with Gus and Larry and played for awhile. Gus was intrigued with the guy in the wheelchair as we came back to the car. He started yowling in a high pitch and wagging his tail. I asked the guy if he could say hi to him and the guy welcomed us over.

His name is Richard. He is a resident of an assisted living facility across the street and was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago.  I sat down on the pavement and talked with him for a while. I wanted to know what the assisted living facility is like because my brother may eventually need assisted living. According to Richard, who had come from a big house with his wife and two of his grown children living there, the one room space isn’t bad. He told me that he isn’t here for long so why complain. Richard said that he gets out and about and his wife visits him and brings his dog to see him.  I asked him “Are you doing stuff?” and he knew exactly what I meant. He replied “Some people have a bucket list. I don’t. I’ve done it. I have had three lives.” He then told me about his early years as a basketball hopeful until his thumbs were crushed. He did not tell me how they were crushed. But looking at his thumbs I noticed they were unusually large and guessed that they had once been his or someones toes. Maybe it was big scar tissue from grafting. I didn’t stare or ask. I felt fortunate that he was sharing with me at all. He described his years following the Grateful Dead. Later he got a degree and worked as a computer programmer for years. I suspected there was more and asked him if he rode bikes. Yes indeed he did. He was a biker too. He also said he did some logging. Richard is 55 years old and I totally believe him. Sometimes I look back on all the amazing things I have experienced and marvel at how it all got crammed into so few years. He told me that he is looking forward to seeing what death is like. Richard said he thought about suicide and that he just can’t do it. I shared with him about how my uncle, who was dying of lung cancer, had driven himself to his favorite fishing hole with his rifle and drank a bottle of whiskey on the shore and couldn’t do it. He was found passed out with his rifle.

I asked Richard  about the wheelchair. He said that because he is on oxygen he needs it to roll the tank around outside. He also added that it provides a seat anywhere he walks. He wasn’t happy about it at first but now he likes having it with him because of the seat.  Our chat came to an end and I thanked him for sharing with me.  Richard stood up from the wheelchair. He is tall. I mean freakishly tall. I didn’t see it when he was seated, even when he mentioned he was a basketball hopeful. He looked so meek and sickly and crumpled into the wheelchair. He stood tall and rolled the chair away. I think that chair skewed my perception.

I suspect that was the first and very last time I will see Richard. Death is part of who we all are. Here is a man embarking on a new life journey. Both Deborah and Richard have let go of dear material objects and adapted to a smaller domestic space.  Richard and Deborah have both found comfort in unlikely chairs.  I sincerely wish them both safe and fantastic journeys.

Weekend before last I met two people and their chairs.

I answered an ad on Craigslist for an Italian leather chair for sale. I like the way it looked in the picture so I called to arrange to look at it.  I drove to a duplex in Lacey and knocked on the door. Deborah was very energetic, loud, small, and powerful. I entered her home and immediately fell in love with the chair. It is big and soft and comfy. Deborah being a small woman appeared tiny in this huge Italian leather chair. It seemed like an unlikely chair for her. I would look at her and imagine something smaller and daintier. Deborah told me about how she just bought a $48,000.00 RV and is selling everything in her home and will be living in the RV. Her husband is in the military and they have to move to Virginia soon. She explained that every time they have to move they have to pay first/last/deposit for wherever they live and it makes more sense to have an RV. She showed me the brochure for it. Let me tell you, she bought a HOME.

Deborah told me that she is really attached to the chair. It is her “Zen” chair. She is a nanny by profession and she used the chair as her sanctuary, curling up in it with her kindle book and her electric fireplace glowing at her feet. She expressed happiness knowing that the chair was going to a good home where it will be loved.

As we talked she shared with me how she had been hit by a car a few years ago and badly injured. She spent two years in therapy. She said she had to learn to walk. She shared how she grew up hunting and that she is still an avid hunter. She said that if you can’t skin a deer yourself you have no business hunting. I love her zest. Sitting on her bed (she toured me around the duplex too) listening to how excited she was to get out of Olympia and be on the road made me little envious. However, I am not sure I would have the moxie or gas money to drag an entire house with me across the US.

So here is this woman embarking on a major geographical and lifestyle change. She is letting go of dear material possessions so that she can travel less burdened. Dear Deborah, you tackle big things and I respect you for it. I bet you could take down a Grisly with a “Boo!”.

Yes, I bought the chair. It is lovely.

The next day I took my dogs to a field by some new construction near Capitol Medical Center. There was a man sitting in a wheelchair talking on a cell phone on the side of the dead end road. I parked and asked him quietly if it was okay to run my dogs in the field. He said “Yeah! Go ahead!”.

So ran out into the field with Gus and Larry and played for awhile. Gus was intrigued with the guy in the wheelchair as we came back to the car. He started yowling in a high pitch and wagging his tail. I asked the guy if he could say hi to him and the guy welcomed us over.

His name is Richard. He is a resident of an assisted living facility across the street and was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago.  I sat down on the pavement and talked with him for a while. I wanted to know what the assisted living facility is like because my brother may eventually need assisted living. According to Richard, who had come from a big house with his wife and two of his grown children living there, the one room space isn’t bad. He told me that he isn’t here for long so why complain. Richard said that he gets out and about and his wife visits him and brings his dog to see him.  I asked him “Are you doing stuff?” and he knew exactly what I meant. He replied “Some people have a bucket list. I don’t. I’ve done it. I have had three lives.” He then told me about his early years as a basketball hopeful until his thumbs were crushed. He did not tell me how they were crushed. But looking at his thumbs I noticed they were unusually large and guessed that they had once been his or someones toes. Maybe it was big scar tissue from grafting. I didn’t stare or ask. I felt fortunate that he was sharing with me at all. He described his years following the Grateful Dead. Later he got a degree and worked as a computer programmer for years. I suspected there was more and asked him if he rode bikes. Yes indeed he did. He was a biker too. He also said he did some logging. Richard is 55 years old and I totally believe him. Sometimes I look back on all the amazing things I have experienced and marvel at how it all got crammed into so few years. He told me that he is looking forward to seeing what death is like. Richard said he thought about suicide and that he just can’t do it. I shared with him about how my uncle, who was dying of lung cancer, had driven himself to his favorite fishing hole with his rifle and drank a bottle of whiskey on the shore and couldn’t do it. He was found passed out with his rifle.

I asked Richard  about the wheelchair. He said that because he is on oxygen he needs it to roll the tank around outside. He also added that it provides a seat anywhere he walks. He wasn’t happy about it at first but now he likes having it with him because of the seat.  Our chat came to an end and I thanked him for sharing with me.  Richard stood up from the wheelchair. He is tall. I mean freakishly tall. I didn’t see it when he was seated, even when he mentioned he was a basketball hopeful. He looked so meek and sickly and crumpled into the wheelchair. He stood tall and rolled the chair away. I think that chair skewed my perception.

I suspect that was the first and very last time I will see Richard. Death is part of who we all are. Here is a man embarking on a new life journey. Both Deborah and Richard have let go of dear material objects and adapted to a smaller domestic space.  Richard and Deborah have both found comfort in unlikely chairs.  I sincerely wish them both safe and fantastic journeys.

Weekend before last I met two people and their chairs.

I answered an ad on Craigslist for an Italian leather chair for sale. I like the way it looked in the picture so I called to arrange to look at it.  I drove to a duplex in Lacey and knocked on the door. Deborah was very energetic, loud, small, and powerful. I entered her home and immediately fell in love with the chair. It is big and soft and comfy. Deborah being a small woman appeared tiny in this huge Italian leather chair. It seemed like an unlikely chair for her. I would look at her and imagine something smaller and daintier. Deborah told me about how she just bought a $48,000.00 RV and is selling everything in her home and will be living in the RV. Her husband is in the military and they have to move to Virginia soon. She explained that every time they have to move they have to pay first/last/deposit for wherever they live and it makes more sense to have an RV. She showed me the brochure for it. Let me tell you, she bought a HOME.

Deborah told me that she is really attached to the chair. It is her “Zen” chair. She is a nanny by profession and she used the chair as her sanctuary, curling up in it with her kindle book and her electric fireplace glowing at her feet. She expressed happiness knowing that the chair was going to a good home where it will be loved.

As we talked she shared with me how she had been hit by a car a few years ago and badly injured. She spent two years in therapy. She said she had to learn to walk. She shared how she grew up hunting and that she is still an avid hunter. She said that if you can’t skin a deer yourself you have no business hunting. I love her zest. Sitting on her bed (she toured me around the duplex too) listening to how excited she was to get out of Olympia and be on the road made me little envious. However, I am not sure I would have the moxie or gas money to drag an entire house with me across the US.

So here is this woman embarking on a major geographical and lifestyle change. She is letting go of dear material possessions so that she can travel less burdened. Dear Deborah, you tackle big things and I respect you for it. I bet you could take down a Grisly with a “Boo!”.

Yes, I bought the chair. It is lovely.

The next day I took my dogs to a field by some new construction near Capitol Medical Center. There was a man sitting in a wheelchair talking on a cell phone on the side of the dead end road. I parked and asked him quietly if it was okay to run my dogs in the field. He said “Yeah! Go ahead!”.

So ran out into the field with Gus and Larry and played for awhile. Gus was intrigued with the guy in the wheelchair as we came back to the car. He started yowling in a high pitch and wagging his tail. I asked the guy if he could say hi to him and the guy welcomed us over.

His name is Richard. He is a resident of an assisted living facility across the street and was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago.  I sat down on the pavement and talked with him for a while. I wanted to know what the assisted living facility is like because my brother may eventually need assisted living. According to Richard, who had come from a big house with his wife and two of his grown children living there, the one room space isn’t bad. He told me that he isn’t here for long so why complain. Richard said that he gets out and about and his wife visits him and brings his dog to see him.  I asked him “Are you doing stuff?” and he knew exactly what I meant. He replied “Some people have a bucket list. I don’t. I’ve done it. I have had three lives.” He then told me about his early years as a basketball hopeful until his thumbs were crushed. He did not tell me how they were crushed. But looking at his thumbs I noticed they were unusually large and guessed that they had once been his or someones toes. Maybe it was big scar tissue from grafting. I didn’t stare or ask. I felt fortunate that he was sharing with me at all. He described his years following the Grateful Dead. Later he got a degree and worked as a computer programmer for years. I suspected there was more and asked him if he rode bikes. Yes indeed he did. He was a biker too. He also said he did some logging. Richard is 55 years old and I totally believe him. Sometimes I look back on all the amazing things I have experienced and marvel at how it all got crammed into so few years. He told me that he is looking forward to seeing what death is like. Richard said he thought about suicide and that he just can’t do it. I shared with him about how my uncle, who was dying of lung cancer, had driven himself to his favorite fishing hole with his rifle and drank a bottle of whiskey on the shore and couldn’t do it. He was found passed out with his rifle.

I asked Richard  about the wheelchair. He said that because he is on oxygen he needs it to roll the tank around outside. He also added that it provides a seat anywhere he walks. He wasn’t happy about it at first but now he likes having it with him because of the seat.  Our chat came to an end and I thanked him for sharing with me.  Richard stood up from the wheelchair. He is tall. I mean freakishly tall. I didn’t see it when he was seated, even when he mentioned he was a basketball hopeful. He looked so meek and sickly and crumpled into the wheelchair. He stood tall and rolled the chair away. I think that chair skewed my perception.

I suspect that was the first and very last time I will see Richard. Death is part of who we all are. Here is a man embarking on a new life journey. Both Deborah and Richard have let go of dear material objects and adapted to a smaller domestic space.  Richard and Deborah have both found comfort in unlikely chairs.  I sincerely wish them both safe and fantastic journeys.