February brings us National Coon History Month.

It is originally a contrivance of the United States to cultivate a national feeling of guilt for some misbegotten perception of mistreated coons.

Now it is simply an annual observance originating in the United States and is getting official recognition from governments in the United States and Canada, and more recently has been observed in Ireland, and the United Kingdom because there are a lot of whining coons there too.

The crux of the observance is to take note of the coon as a downtrodden species needing affirmative action and preferential treatment to survive in a world in which they cannot adequately compete because coon lives matter.

Happy National Coon History Month !

aka Handouts-R-Us

I lost my dad December 4, 2001 at 8:00 pm to a multitude of disease problems which were the direct result of his life long relationship with tobacco.

Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease
Bronchitis
Bronchopleural Fistula
Emphysema
Pneumonia
Empyema Thoracis
Cor Pulmonale

While I cannot blame healthcare providers for his choices in life, I was left with the feeling that some of those directly responsible for his care could have really given a rip about him and this has left me reticent to interact with health care professionals as a group to this day.

Be all of this as it may I have missed my daddy even though we had a troubled relationship of our own — but in the end I only wanted what was best for him and he really did have a hard painful ending trying to stay with us.

Sometimes there are far worse situations than end of life.

So each year when his birthday comes around I say a little prayer and thank God for him and thank him for being there for me and that's about all I can do anymore.

I am 66 years old and to this day I sometimes cry over his passing and the way it all went down.

As far as I am concerned there should have been more "care" in that terminal care he received.

Apparently it was simply expecting too much.
 

On this day in 1998, democrat, liar, and President William Jefferson Clinton went on national television and denied having "sexual relations" with former White House intern Monica Lewinsky to whom he referred as "that woman".

WHell, the situation escalated.

The Executive staff thought they would intimidate and threaten the young woman who proved more than the establishment could bear with her blue dress and goodly stain of DNA evidence consisting of presidential man chowder.

I remember Chris Rock defending his homeboy on his television special saying how he only "lied about sex" and who doesn't lie about sex?

So thus the President had to eat those words and recant on yet another broadcast.
 

Not that I blame him for trying to escape all the fugliness imparted by Hillary upon their relationship, eh Webster Hubbell?

Luckily he was simply in keeping with the fact that you can tell when a democrat is lying because their lips move.

Not too much can be said for Ms Lewinsky either — the actively pursuing television publicity with "exclusive rights" seeking slut.

Too bad ... if Oprah can't have all of it she doesn't want any of it.

So the Clintons became left with two choices, Jeffrey Epstein's French fries or pizza.

I have experienced a lot of personal loss lately.

Normally it all rolls off like water on a duck's back — but I'm afraid some of it has hit too close to home to ignore that emotional suffering I feel when something or someone to which I have a strong or long standing attachment is taken away.

Yeah some of it was losing an old Navy buddy, other parts an entertainer I once enjoyed and a even musician for whom I had great respect but ...

The loss of my auntie added to the mix has given it all a feeling of emotional shattering and stupendous forfeiture of that which I once felt was mine.

It's all had me pretty sad of late and I'm not the focus of the loss by a long shot.

Trying to help others through the loss likewise seems pretty remote.

Something about feeling wounded and vulnerable doesn't promote a viable advisory capacity regarding matters of the heart.

The perceived helplessness of the human condition is at once frustrating and overwhelming.

The transient nature of loss and grief somehow pale in the presence of what I know.

Yeah, I can handle it though it feels overwhelming and I try to cut myself some slack. The ups and downs are mostly downs of late and I understand that this is the way it goes sometimes. The intrinsic meaning is not there for me aside from recognizing the cycle of life and that which I have experienced will only repeat over time.

All I can do is hang in there.
 

My Auntie Laura was laid to rest on Sunday.

I recall my last visit with her and the pain and suffering so evident on her face and in her voice. She appeared the picture of human misery. My mother cried to see her agony but ever optimistic she was still was hoping things might turn around.

I remember the call from Jenny telling us she had died that Saturday evening around 6 pm. I couldn't bear to tell my mother so I let my cousin speak to her then tried to console her as best I could as I watched the grief overtake her.

We attended the visitation on Friday evening at 3 pm and the turnout was far more than I expected. Actually, I didn't know what to expect.

I grieved too for my Uncle who was as always — stoic — visiting with attendees there and going it alone after all these years.

It all was reminiscent of the sad poem Lament by Edna St Vincent Millay I studied in literature in Mrs Robinson's class at Horace O'Bryant Junior High as a child.

Her funeral service was held at the church she attended for as along as I can remember. She was returned to the earth shortly thereafter at a cemetery close to her home in that locale she frequented during her life time with military honors.

While it is so very sad to note that all she was is lost to us left here upon the earth at least we know she no longer suffers so profoundly from the inadequate care she received from a nurse practitioner in whom she instilled her trust.

A seamstress, master gardener who could grow anything, gourmet cook, baker extraordinare, talented artist, keeper of records and details, and handler of infinite minutia that always made a difference — she will be missed by me and all the others who love her and now have only our memories to sustain us.

It is a difficult matter to lose someone who has always been there for you over the ensuing years — someone who gave of themself and their many talents unconditionally. Someone who loved you and for whom you returned that love.

It's a very sad time in our family. Rest in peace Auntie Laura.