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Notes from the office: when Medicine fails

May 30, 2025 in Shrink Stuff | 17 comments

BERJAYA

Lots of my patients take supplements; I sense of many of these products are of questionable worth and some of them sound downright fraud. I worry patients are being led by the nose by snake oil salesmen promising them remedies or vague but nebulous wellness. The scientist in me swoons. I want reliable data that supports this or that medication or supplement is tested safe, efficacious, and worthwhile to buy – like my men. I apply the ‘Spo rules” to meds and supplements. I ask my patients taking supplements can they answer three questions, the more specific the better:

  1. Why am I taking this?
  2. How will I measure its worth?
  3. How long to I take it before determining it is useful or I am wasting my money?

Mind! People feels better for doing and taking something and when they think it will do them good, they often feel better for taking it. The placebo effect, bless it! It is a big component in all our lives. So, if a patient tells me their supplement ‘is working’ [and it isn’t causing harm] I don’t knock it.

The Shadow side of supplements and such is a growing rejection of Medicine in general, in favor of influencers on Tik Tok and the like, folks on line of ? background telling them what to do and take. I regularly see ads on The Tube of Yous for products stating this will cure diabetes or high blood pressure. Sometimes patients come in telling me what to do and what I know is wrong – such crust!

It is easy to dismiss thems taking supplements as dimwits. But let’s look closely here: they are trying to feel better, and traditional medicine (at least in the USA system) is failing them in some way. What’s available through conventional channels is either not working well or unaffordable. All meds (and supplements, I would argue) have potential hazards. FDA-tested and approved medicines are required to tell the worse-case adverse reactions. In contrast the supplements claim they are ‘natural’ and ‘harmless’ (while covering their asses these products are not meant to treat anything so if you have an adverse reaction that’s your problem).

Another issue is a sense someone cares. The patients who go to ‘natural therapists’ and such convey these folks spend time with them, probably more than their doctors. Indirectly I hear them pay for expensive tests and treatments that have little if any data to back them up as proper, but it feels good to do something and to be heard. Who can blame them?

Medicine should do better. Somehow the system has to improve. In COVID times Medicine and Science learned the hard way presenting the facts does not sway people’s opinions or decision making. Folks need accessibility and sufficient time with their doctors to form a good alliance, so when the doctor recommends something the patient doesn’t initially want or agree with, they are more likely to be persuaded to do the right thing.*

In the end when a patient tells me they are going to try monkey glands to lose weight (true story) I go through the Spo-rules with them and support their trial. Nine times out of ten, they come later announcing they stopped the supplement as it didn’t work. No need to say I told you so. I review what could be done now (hopefully data-supported) and persevere. I get high marks for listening to them and not judging.

*Believe me, doctors feel this way too. Their number one complaint nowadays is not having enough time to be with their patients. This is especially true for disagreements, such as why it isn’t necessary to take an antibiotic or start something they saw on TV. It’s easier to just give’em what they want, especially if a ‘no’ (without due process) makes patients upset, often enough to go online and complain the doctor didn’t listen to them or take care of them.

99 questions to ask your grandparents #38

May 29, 2025 in 99 Questions | 38 comments

38. What song transports you back to being a teenager?

Hot puppies! This is a good one! One won’t get a vague ‘correct’ response but a personal reply that evokes a memory and a story of how that song came to be so.*

When I was a young teen, full of spots, there was a record store nearby called Harmony House. It later converted to CDs and in time closed down when no one was buying those anymore, but in its time it was ‘the’ place to get the latest records. It has sections for rock, jazz, and classical. I did not grow up listening to much rock or radio; rather I played my parent’s collection of classical music and Broadway albums. What got me going into my ‘first teen album’ was ELO “Out of the blue”. I don’t know where or how I heard it first, but I liked it enough to want it. I remember going to Harmony House and buying it. “Sweet Talkin’ Woman” was the song that got me in the door to buy my ‘very first album’. I played it over and over. Hearing it, I am transported back to 70s in all its pain and glory.

Presently it sounds dated, even a bit cheesy, but it was big stuff then.

I still play ‘Mr. Blue Sky’ from time to time, when I need cheering up.

What song transports you back to your teen years?

*Unless the real answer is the song “Let’s do it in the middle of the road”. Oh the embarrassment.

World of mine Wednesday’s Ws

May 28, 2025 in World of mine Ws | 35 comments

BERJAYA

What’s top of my mind: Whether or not I’ve been conned. A few weeks ago I was contacted by the executor of the estate of George, my adopted godfather, who died in January. Mr. Executor told me an attorney would be getting in touch with me, as George left me some money. I figured it would be a modest amount: George had lots of adopted godchildren. The attorney contacted me: the amount was quite large and the process to get it quite simple: sign the form and he would sent me the money via cheque. I was dubious. I’ve seen Brother #3 slogging his way through our late father’s estate; this sounded too good to be true. However, the usual signs of a con job are present: there is no ‘you need to get this done by tomorrow’ pressure, and there was no request for money up front to process things. The executor is George’s next door neighbor; it’s hard to imagine George trusted his estate and house keys to a scoundrel. I consulted a blogger buddy who is knowledgeable in the law as well as well over four feet. I decided to go ahead and send the “OK to send me the money” form. So far as I can tell, the worst is I don’t get anything of something I wasn’t expecting. Time will soon tell if my trust has been betrayed.

Where I’ve been: The car wash. The Red Car and The White Car have monthly memberships at the Quick Quack carwash.Alas, Babylon! We haven’t been going. Rather than cancel we decided to be more regular in going, vowing every Saturday morning for the one and every Sunday morning for the other. At the car wash in the drying off section, Someone does the better job at vacuuming while I do better with wiping down the insides of doors. We bring our own towels and there is a mild satisfaction to run a towel over things and see the dirt come out.

Do you go to a car wash or do you wash yours by hand or neither?

Where I’m going: The business card file. A few years ago some nice young man well over four feet came to Las Casa de Spo to hold an inspection of the yard watering system. He sold us a new box to set up a regularly scheduled on/off watering – and then we never installed it. Oh the embarrassment. I can’t remember his name, so I am rummaging through the business cards hoping to find his business card. We have heaps. I should go through these and throw out the useless ones, which at first round to be the the lot of them.

I have two business cards: one for work and the one for social events. Someone calls the latter my ‘trick’ card.’

BERJAYA

What I’m watching: The Residence. Someone thought I would enjoy this series and he was right. The main butler at The White House has been murdered the night The President is having a state dinner for dignitaries from Australia. A detective (who has a fondness for birds) is called in to solve the case before anyone leaves. I’ve seen three episodes out of eight so far. What makes it especially entertaining is the show isn’t is too serious but full up with morbid jokes. As a bonus, I am learning a lot about The White house, what’s in it and how it works. Jolly good fun!

Have you seen this show? Please – no spoilers!!!

What I’m reading: Tequila. The Whisky Advocate magazine in its latest edition announced it is tacking on to the usual articles a new section all about tequila. It is an add-on and not a case of robbing Peter to pay Paul. I’m fine with this but I imagine there will be angry letters from peaty purists remonstrating they didn’t subscribe to the magazine to read about tequila. I remember subscribing to The Wine Spectator; it had the occasional issue all about food or imperial tidbits and the orchestra of scorched cats was enough the editors stopped doing such.

What I’m listening to: Aunt Marion’s clock. For awhile it wasn’t chiming, as Urs Truly wound it too tightly; it was stuck. The clock repair man is as ancient as the clock and the dar usually needs six to twelve months to get around to fixing things. Oh the pain. I hoped in time the ancient timepiece would unwind on its own and it did, what a relief. Hearing it chime the quarter hours again is a heartwarming sound.

What I’m eating: Skittles. Someone and I played our first game of Mancala other other day. I substituted the pebbles with Skittles. They were too big to play on the tiny board, so when the game was done, the winner ate all the Skittles.*

Next time I try tic-tacs.

Whack-a-mole of the week: Harper messes. Not a day goes by when The Harper Hound pees in the house. Mercifully she does this mostly on the tile. We are continually at the ready with mop and pail and use plenty of Pine-sol please.

Who gets a fist-bump: Someone. Over the Memorial Day weekend I coaxed Someone to hang The Shag store ‘Puf’s place’. He does a much better job with hanging things than I; he is more precise at getting things just-so. All the same it is a tedious task that makes him understandably frustrated at problems that arise, and some always do. It finally got hung and I love it so.

BERJAYA

He is a dear, and not just for this.

What I’m planning: A new work out regimen. The Personal Trainer (the dear!) has me going to the gym four days per week, consisting of some preliminary calisthenics followed by weights and ending with jumping around gyrations. I am not lasting through them and there is a general sense I am not progressing in stamina. It is either too much or I am out of shape or unrealistic or possessed by demons. I’ve asked is it possible to divide these into ‘weights days’ and ‘aerobics days’.

What’s making me smile: Another probable at-work bonus. The Overlords have an incentive program to get people to work more: if you make above a mark [relative value units] you get a bonus, given quarterly. I am doing my usual job, no more than usual, yet I am raking in the RVUs. If the George estate pays I will combine it with the RVU bonus cheque and get a new car.

*That was Urs Truly.

Thoughts on a Tewsday

May 27, 2025 in Spo-Reflections | 29 comments

I realized yesterday it was Memorial Day weekend when we moved to Arizona in 2005. This makes twenty years living in the Southwest. Patience above! The Arizona was just to be another chapter in my life; instead it turned into ‘Part II” of The Book of Spo. This rattles me. The same job, the same house, and the same climate made 2005-2025 one long chapter without much plot development. I remember all the chapters in Part I*, but Part II reads like Molly’s soliloquy minus its charms. Will there be a Part III? Who can say.

As is my wont on Memorial Day, I made a big bowl of macaroni salad (no rubbish). It turned out spicier than usual, having not read the recipe well viz. it called for 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper and I put in a full one. I forgot to put in diced SPAM, which isn’t called for in the original recipe but it does gave the dish some protein and camp flavor. I went to Uncle Albertsons to get me a tin. Rather than go through self-check out, I stood in line to talk to the checker and the bagger. This cost me a five minute plus wait but I had some pleasant social intercourse. The checker, upon seeing my purchase, broke out in song: SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM etc. (in E-flat). How amazing a joke fifty years old remains in our memories and is still funny. The bagger, hearing I wanted ice as well, went to the ice machine and fetched me my two bags. That is service; this is why I wait in line at the grocery store.

We are presently buying ice as the fridge isn’t making any. Oh the horror. The etiology of this malady is yet to be determined. I go through ice like there is no tomorrow, forever consuming iced beverages especially May through September. It is a rotten time for the fridge to go on strike. I placed the red and white cooler in the trunk of the car for trips back and forth to Uncle Albertsons until the problem is fixed.

I am continuing to have intermittent lightheaded episodes and when I check my blood pressure it is running at readings of 120/54, 118/55, and 109/45, which The OMRON jokingly calls ‘normal’. My norm is more like 130/85, which is not good by contemporary standards, but that’s better than near-stroke readings I get sans medication (that means without). I cannot explain this new onset low BP; I haven’t changed anything. On the positive, I’m cutting out the second medication, the beta blocker, without consequence. Weird with a beard to have low blood pressure for once.**

With two travel funerals and Memorial Day weekend behind me I look to a long ardent Arizona summer in which there are no plans. It would be nice to have something on the calendar to look forward to. I will see what can be done about this.

Part I

*Chapter I: the early years in St. Clair Shores

Chapter II; school years on Fair court Lane

Chapter III: High School on Thorn tree Rd.

Chapter IV: College

Chapter V: Medical School,

Chapter VI: Chicago Part I: the residency days

Chapter VII: Chicago Part II: work and love in The Windy City.

Chapter VIII: Back to Michigan and life with Someone.

Part II: The Phoenix decades……..

**I created quite the scene at the gym the other day by staggering and sitting down with a thud. My tailbone wasn’t injured but my ego was. I was suddenly surrounded by workout bros who normally don’t give me the time of day, enquiring into my welfare. Always quick thinking for a laugh, I wanted to say I could use some mouth to mouth resuscitation, but I said I was merely dehydrated. They departed and I went home. There goes dignity.

Wasn’t the grass greener? Restaurants.

May 26, 2025 in Wasn't the grass greener? | 44 comments

After the symphony Someone and Urs Truly often walk to a local bar/restaurant. The place is known for its savvy bartenders and exquisite cocktails – always a plus. We’ve gone so often the hostess knows us well; if there is a long wait she sits us right away (the dear!), for which I tip generously. The wait staff are nice and well over four feet. All and all a good experience. What the place lacks is quietness. The floors are marble and there are no tablecloths. and the loud music blasts to the level it is hard to have a conversation:

Urs Truly (shouting): is this song something the youngsters like to dance to?

Someone (shouting): France? Why do you want to go to France?

Urs Truly (still shouting): Not France, dance! Would you like that?

Someone (shouting): No thanks, I’m full, but you can have some of mine if you like.

Urs Truly (muttering): You bitch.

Someone: I heard that.

For my birthday last year I wanted to got to an iconic restaurant dowtown call Durants. As soon as I stepped in I felt I had gone back in time. The floors had thick carpets and the tables had proper tableclothes. I think there was some background music, but it was low volume and hardly heard. I could hear our waiter and we had a conversation without having to raise our voices.

I suspect restaurants nowadays skip the carpet and cloths as too expensive to maintain, but why the loud music? The majority of folks who go to said restaurant are in their twenties and thirties. When we show, we are Statler and Waldorf minus their charms. On more than one occasion I’ve been tempted to respond to the waitstaff’s request is there anything else I can do for you with yes please tell the DJ to turn the music down. But I don’t. Young people seem to see loud music in restaurants as a sign the place is ‘hip’.

Even the low-key restaurants feel obliged to have music going and always loud, at least for me. It’s a rare eatery that has silence, but if I find one this often surpasses the other factors.

I have turned into my late father, who used to walk into a restaurant and get a facial expression of disgust and horror and announce we can’t eat here, it’s too loud.

One last rant on the topic: I like holding proper menus. The mentioned restaurant now has plastic cards on the bar and table tops; the customers scan them with their phones to open up the menus on line. I invariably bungle this, although I am familiar with the place by now I know what I want without looking.

I sometimes wonder about the restaurant from my birthday viz. how long it will last. It was quite popular in the 70. It was very expensive and the few customers there were old. I didn’t see any youngsters. I didn’t get a desire to go back, but I enjoyed the quiet dining where you can hear what the other at table are saying.

Curious things about the house #89

May 25, 2025 in Spo-Reflections | 31 comments

BERJAYA

Four or five years ago while cleaning out my parent’s house I found in the basement behind some cardboard boxes this colored pencil drawing. I drew it in freshman year high school art class. I had forgotten all about it. It has been nearly forty years since I drew it and saw it. It was somewhat water damaged from being in the basement, but not so bad as to throw it out. I took it home and it has been behind a dresser ever since, waiting for the day I fix it or throw it out. A few weeks ago I took it to the framing store and got it down.

BERJAYA

I remember quite pleased with my use of shadows and lines. I hadn’t really done anything like this before. Miss Hall gave me an A. 

At the framing gallery, I had apoplexy when the young staff person old me she didn’t recognize who this was. Trying to remain calm, I explained this is a caricature of Groucho Marx, arguably one of the funniest men of the twentieth century. Do not dare to questions this. I advised her to go home and watch a Marx Brothers movie; Duck Soup if she had to chose just one.  Oh the horror.

Now it is framed, what on earth to do with it. Hang it of course, but where? While I am happy with it I don’t relish the thought Groucho leering at me or a guest while we sleep. I will figure it out in time.

Spo-fans will be interested learn near the end of his life Groucho did a sort of farewell tour of recalls and memories of his life. He often said along the line. “I was recall once in Texas I was in an elevator, and in person next to me was Greta Garbo. She was well over four feet”.

In memory of Marx I continue the tradition. 🙂

A brief check-in

May 23, 2025 in Random Thoughts | 28 comments

Patience above! I am up to my oxters in work this week. It’s not been ‘bad’ but nonstop, like Lucy’s chocolate conveyor belt scene minus the charms. I am looking forward to the weekend for a break from work – although there is no lack of homework to do, worse luck. The weekend ‘there’s-work-to-be-done’ list is as long as a summer night in Norway, so there will not much sitting still.

It is the Friday before a three-day weekend. Traditionally this is a combination of more than usual ‘no-shows’ as people forget they have appointments combined with frantic calls for prescriptions from thems going out of town. Both actions have diminished with the internet. It’s easy now to check in for a twenty minute obligation appointment online or on the phone, and Rx can be sent with the push of a button. Alas Babylon! This morning the EHR prescription site is being difficult: I can’t send out prescriptions of a controlled nature – and on the eve of a holiday! The orchestra of scorched cats will be particularly loud, in A-minor.

I cannot remember when I last visited the blogger buddies; I am looking forward to this pleasurable past time. I am eager to get caught up on all the news that’s fit to print. Shenanigans unfit for print can be texted.

Gotta scram, 8AM approaches and the games begin. I remind myself despite the Fafner’s hoard of work before me today I have gone through thirty years of Fridays before Memorial Day and I will get through this one. I mark the start of summer by wearing the first Spo-shirt for Fridays, although it is last season’s and there will be talk.

Hugs and see you soon with something more substantial

Spo

World of mine Wednesday’s Ws

May 21, 2025 in World of mine Ws | 39 comments

BERJAYA

What’s top of my mind: Memorial Day weekend. Patience above! Memorial Day weekend starts this Friday! The weekend ‘there’s-work-to-be-done’ list is as long as my inseam. This includes: changing the AC filters; hanging the SHAG print; dry cleaning the jackets; sharpening the kitchen knives (they are quite dull). There is lots more. After all what is Memorial Day weekend for?

What are you doing this weekend?

Where I’ve been: Several iPhone stores. Having foolishly left behind the laptop cord at home last weekend I took the opportunity to visit the various airport stores to look for a replacement. The salesmen were quite courteous and well over four feet; they seemed to know what they were doing. Every time I pulled out the 2012 laptop they looked puzzled as if they have never seen such a thing before. One salesmen seemed younger than the laptop. Alas, Babylon! The cords for sale did not fit, not even close. It was page 71 as the stores had heaps of all sorts but none connected to the laptop. The salesman in Arizona looked as disappointed as I probably because I was to be their only customer that day.

Where I’m going: A walking seminar. Someone and I attend a walking programme from August to November. This will be our third year. Maria, our intrepid leader, has some sort of seminar this weekend to enhance efficacy and quickness of walking. I am not too interested in walking fast but I like efficacy and I would like not to be the last man over the line for once. We are going for a look-see. I hope I am not in too bad of shape to attend.

What I’m watching: The post, for a package from Nova Scotia. Urs Truly likes board games (although I am not very good at them, worse luck). There is a game called Marcala, consisting of two rows of shallow bowls that hold stones or marbles. The two players move these items about to get as many as possible into his or her home dish. Jolly good fun! I was going to write Mr. Bezos to send me one (he has heaps) but it turns out Norm (the dear!) has one in his antique store. Much better! When I play the game I will think of him. Goodness knows if and when the package get throughs the barbed wire fence Canada sensibly installed at the border. It gives me something to look forward to. When I play, I plan to use Skittles.

BERJAYA

What I’m reading: The Day of the triffids. After decades of warning others (I’m looking at you Walter!) about these awful beings, I figured I would read the original story to learn where they come from. For thems unfamiliar with triffids, they are tall carnivorous plants that use a whip-like stamen to stun their prey. They also ambulate when necessary. Oh the horror.

Has anyone read this book?

What I’m listening to: The baas of the lost sheep. I have discovered a quick way of checking the status of a patient when they or the pharmacy contacts me for a refill. Thems who haven’t been in for a while or have seemingly disappeared as referred as the lost sheep. If I notice one hasn’t been in for awhile, I tell the pharmacy not to fill the prescription but tell the patient to call us first and get an appointment on the books, and then I will fill it. Recently my daily roster has a handful of folks not in since last autumn, and one was living off of refills since August. Happily, most of them are just fine, so they just hadn’t thought to come in (although I ask them to return every three months). However there have been some grumblers who don’t see why they have to come in when they are doing just fine. Because I sign my name to their prescriptions that’s why.

What I’m eating: Dungeons and Dragons Chinese carry-out. On Wednesdays I order from China Chile, the nearby restaurant. They do a a good job. There are twelve lunch specials, and by now I’ve had them all. When I can’t decide which one, I roll the twelve-sided Dungeons and Dragons dice located in my office desk (all psychiatrists got one) and order that. I will roll again if it come us ‘tofu with vegetables” – that one isn’t very good.

BERJAYA

Wild card what-not: I was at work the other day, minding my own business, when The Medical assistant came into my office, carrying a bouquet of yellow flowers. Patience above! What is this? Someone sent them as a ‘just because’ item along with a card stating he was sorry he hadn’t gone to Michigan with me last weekend. Ain’t that sweet? I placed the flowers in the waiting room for all to see and smell.

When was the last time you bought someone flowers? Why dontcha?

Who gets a fist-bump: The executor of my late Godfather. The executor of my late Godfather (who happens to be his next door neighbor) contacted me about some money that is coming my way. I told him what really mattered was retrieving from his library a photograph taken of me in my late 20s. Could he find it? I described it as well as I could. He texted me the other day with a photo: is this the photo? Yes! It was! It wasn’t in the frame I described; George must have reframed it. Mr. executor will send it to me in time. The dear!

What I’m planning: Macaroni salad. Every Memorial Day I make me a large bowl of macaroni salad, and not just any type but proper no rubbish type. Do not dare to question this.

What’s making me smile: Family. Last weekend I had a blast seeing the bros and the cousins from both side of the family tree. The ones from dad’s side braved horrific travel conditions to make it in. There was nonstop laughter. I am blessed to have such a loving family.

BERJAYA

Brother #4; #2; #3; #1 (Urs Truly)

BERJAYA

Thems on the maternal side: all well over four feet.

Spo-reflections on an old photograph

May 20, 2025 in Random Thoughts | 49 comments

One of last weekend’s post-memorial service tasks was going through some of the albums to a look-see at the photos. We have heaps. Some of the pictures go back to the 50s and maybe the 40s. Which ones do we keep and which ones do we throw out?* Most of the photos elicit emotions of ‘Oh! I remember that!” which slows down the task of sorting as we all stop to laugh and reminisce.


Among the hundreds of photos were a handful that caused us to say “what the heck is this?” Here is one of those:

BERJAYA

Behold Urs Truly, a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. So many questions here. The only thing recognized is the background, which are the apartments we lived in, located in Saint Clair Shores Michigan. The rest is a mystery. Who dressed me up like this, and why? I cannot imagine this was my ‘everyday wear”. It looks like I am dressed for some formal occasion like Easter Sunday church service. Am I wearing socks or some groovy 60s-style leggings? All I can say is whoever did the accessories did a lousy job for the purse doesn’t match the outfit.

I don’t know if I am standing behind a car we once had or not. What kind of car is it anyway? I have a vague false memory we had a white car like the one in the background. And then there is that apple basket on its side: what on earth is it doing there? Father had a good head for photography; I daresay if he took this he would have removed it.

Given the ribald response from my brothers and cousins I decided to keep this one.

Spo-fans are encouraged to give theory as to what’s going on, and to anyone old or savvy enough to identify the vehicle, the winner gets a brand new sand bucket.

*This is a good place as any to pause to lecture folks to always label your photos with when it was taken and who is in the picture. It may have been all obvious at the time of the shooting but memories go sooner than you think.

Spo-reflections after a funeral

May 19, 2025 in Spo-Reflections | 21 comments

Kenopsia: the eeriness of places left behind, such as an empty house or a deserted school. It comes from ancient Greek words meaning emptiness and seeing, and captures the feeling of nostalgia and loss.

My late father’s memorial service was conducted at the family’s long time church in Grosse Pointe Woods. The family started going in the early 60s. The Grosse Pointe Congregational church has been integral to my family ever since. Can you imagine, going to the same place of so long? I haven’t seen it since 2020, when my mother died and due to COVID we did not go in. Who knows when I was last in?

What a mixture of emotions to step into a place I have known all your life but haven’t seen in ages. Most of the place, including the smell, was just as it always was. This felt so comforting like how your grandparent’s living room feels and smells. But there were noticeable changes, such as the ‘new’ back entrance. Chances are it’s been there for decades. That’s the problem with places: when you leave them a part of you wants them to stay just as they are.

People forget the majority of places like churches, schools, and houses go on without you. As soon as you step out someone else steps in and takes over and makes it their own. The inventor of the word kenopsia points out if places are haunted. it is ourselves who are doing the haunting, hoping to stay in a way not wanting to let it go entirely.

The service was a lovely one. In theory it was reserved for immediate friends and family. However, in the back were a handful of old folks, whom I didn’t recognize. I went to introduce myself as the eldest of the deceased and who are you? These quiet sad ancients were members of the church; they had come to pay their respects. They had known my parents all this time. Some of them even remembered, although I couldn’t recall any of them. It made total sense they should come, as a church is a family, and they were family members. Most of them sat in the back, like a metaphor they too were in decline, soon they would be shades themselves, in the columbarium outside where my parent’s ashes lay.

After the service I had the sensation I will not see the church again. Attendance and membership have declined as so many churches have. There is a foreboding it will close or merge with another church also in decline. The property will be sold and the church torn down, becoming only a memory. Meanwhile, my spirit wanders the halls, remembering the potlucks, the Christmas workshops, and the after-service coffee talks that we kids so desperately wanted done with to go home.

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