Alzheimer’s – Caro Babbo

rough draft 4 minutes memoir

Jennifer is starting a memoir about our time sailing with Hilary. This is a four-minute piece, when read out loud, that Jennifer wrote for a seminar she attended. The event described took place in 2016.

Date: Friday, May 3, 2019 at 1:35 PM

Topic: rough draft 4 minutes memoir

Hilary is my mother.

At the deepest extent of our swing we were in over 60 feet, but when the tide reversed we had drifted and settled such that our keel was two feet above the bottom. The next low was forecast to be three feet lower, so John and I set up a double anchor system, one off the bow in deeper water and the Danforth off the stern in shallower. We could thus pull ourselves out into deeper water if the clearance between the bottom of the keel and the ground grew too nervous-making for me. Positioned in this way, with the golden sun filtering down through the clear water and hints of fantastic wildlife just around every bush and boulder, John started the task of fixing the Webasto heater.

I was looking through the binoculars at shore watching for bears or another wolverine, and Hilary was puttering in her way: untying the stopper knots in the jib sheets and coiling the lines into kinks. Why not let her, I thought, as we weren’t traveling that day and it was so serene and lovely.

Life is a Mangle

7-APR-2019, Port Townsend, WA – Contranym – a word that is its own opposite. The noun mangle and verb mangle are life at the moment. A mangle is a machine with rollers that smooth cloth. I think of them as the wringer rollers on a washing machine, or the machines that iron sheets in a hotel. The verb is to destroy usually by twisting and cutting.

Hilary is dying. It blots out much of what I intended to write about.

She stood in front of the temple and spread herself upon the wind, thinner and thinner, until only the wind remained.
Apollo referring to Hera in Star Trek episode 33, Who Mourns for Adonis

Stuck in the ATL

Decatur, GA, 23-NOV-2018 – There is no joy working on these houses. We won’t get the first two done before we head north for Christmas. Jennifer won’t be going to Berlin.

We might get one house done, the second underway, and the third, perhaps, contracted to completion before we return to Atlanta in January.

Our, well, at least my life revolves around Caro Babbo.

Paducah, Kentucky

6-MAR-2018, Interstate 24, heading west – Paducah Kentucky is a long way from Caro Babbo, but not too far away to spend money.

Jennifer closed on one of Hilary’s houses this week, and signed all the paperwork for the second closing, so we needn’t return for it.

We’re riding in a Budget 12-foot box truck, driving some of Hilary’s belongings up to Port Townsend.

Continue reading “Paducah, Kentucky”

Hilary in Atlanta

Decatur, GA USA, 6-NOV-2017 – Two months. I’ve never gone two months without posting.

I write enough about Hilary that this blog might be called Caro Babbo and Hilary, and so this post will primarily be about Hilary.

When I started writing this blog, Hilary was far along in her Alzheimer’s dementia, but she retained a lovely personality and was the star of Caro Babbo, remembered, loved and called to by everyone we met. Truly, Jennifer and I were known as the two people with Hilary.

By the time we left this year in May 2017, Hilary was disappearing. Hilary’s world was smaller and people we met would take Jennifer or me aside to tell us this was too much for two people to handle. Continue reading “Hilary in Atlanta”

Trip over, Caro Babbo is in her slip.

Port Townsend, WA, 7-SEP-2017 – This year’s trip is over. Caro Babbo is in her slip at Lee’s landing. Jennifer, Hilary and I are back in Port Townsend for the next few weeks before we start our fall travels: We’ll spend most of the fall at my residence in Atlanta, with time in Phoenix, New York and, for Jennifer, Berlin. Continue reading “Trip over, Caro Babbo is in her slip.”

Adventure over, Home waters

27-AUG-2017, just outside Pender Harbour – We’ve come to realize that the adventure is over for the year.

It is warm here, in the 20sC, 70sF. We haven’t worn foulies or even long trousers in a couple of days. The locals tell us its only rained for four days since May: It has been a glorious summer. Continue reading “Adventure over, Home waters”

Some electronic issues

The AIS has been signaling errors. I noticed this yesterday. The light on the unit is moving between red (possibly orange) and green.

We’re seeing the RSSI numbers move from high -90s to -60s on both channels (A and B) but generally it is B that has the problem. We receive oaky, but may be having trouble transmitting.

This could be an antenna problem, or a unit problem. I lean towards the unit because nothing that a I know of physically has changed and the unit has worked well the entire trip so far.
Continue reading “Some electronic issues”

Hydaburg, Klowack and Craig; Stretch and Elise.

3-JUL-2017, Craig, AK – We’ve met people who spend each fourth of July in a different Alaska town. Each town has its own character and make up.

Craig, where we are today, Monday, the morning of the third of July is home to many young familes with children. We met them yesterday at a children’s fishing competition at the marina. This town of 1300 or so showed up with any dozens of children under ten years old fishing a remarkable number of Halibut from beneath the docks… by remarkable I mean dozens and dozens in a one hour period. Continue reading “Hydaburg, Klowack and Craig; Stretch and Elise.”

Punchbowl, AK – This year versus Last

It’s difficult not to compare that second time one does something with the first.

Jennifer and I find ourselves doing that often these last couple of days.

We compare our calendar and where we were last year against where we are this year. The comparison is a false one: so much was different.

We feel like we’ve sat at anchor for days this year doing nothing, while last year at this time we‘d sat at anchor waiting for parts, and then sat a t a dock waiting for parts. Jennifer and I spent weeks apart last year as Jennifer flew to Owen’s graduation and I flew to say good bye to my dying friend JoAnn.

Yesterday, we were in Punchbowl, two day’s sail from Ketchikan, though we took three days, stopping in a small cove we knew a few hours south of Ketchikan that contained a mooring buoy. And then staying at a further cove, with a Park Service cabin and buoy. Continue reading “Punchbowl, AK – This year versus Last”