Pat's Nightmare

Last year Pat moved from his Royal Connaught Hotel penthouse condo to a nearby small (tiny) home in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. Little did he know he would be entering into a Nightmare Neighbor situation. 

At the time bought his house, a 564 foot house, the house next door to him was unoccupied. Apparently an elderly man owned it who had died. The house was unoccupied until a few months after Pat moved into his house. Then next door a young homeless couple took advantage of the unoccupied middle home and moved in. Apparently the woman is a relative (granddaughter?) of the deceased man whose estate still owns the house. After they moved in then began a daily stream of unsavory characters all during the day. Thus began Pat's nightmare and his other neighbor ("Sam") who owns the house on the other side of the three tiny houses (see photo).   

 

 

 Last month I visited Pat at his home (my photo at the begging of this blog). Pat loves his home. Pat is a minimalist. His home is perfect for him. What a shame that his peace and tranquility is destroyed by the squatters who took advantage of the abandoned home next to him. 

I was schedule to visit Pat for a week. I could only stay one night at his home. The noise during the night from his next door neighbor (banging on the wall, screaming at her boyfriend, etc) kept me awake all night. The next day I went up the street and booked a room at the Hampton Inn at a total cost of almost $1,000. I had no choice, I couldn't go a week without sleep. Hell, I can't go a day without my afternoon nap. 

I could visit Pat during the day because apparently his neighbors are vampires, they sleep during the day (no jobs of course), but they arise at dusk and thus begins another nightmarish evening of noise for Pat from his squatter neighbors. What a nightmare for Pat! 

Pat has called the city of Hamilton numerous times along with his neighbor on the other side of the squatter couple. The city does nothing. NOTHING! Except maybe perhaps collect their salary, which they collect whether they do something or not. 

I'm not a religious person (far from it) but I do thank God (or whoever) that I now live in a quiet neighborhood. Oh I've had bad neighbors over the years. Homophobic neighbors who send their kids on the border of our (me and Bill) property and yell "Fags get out!" for hours on end on a peaceful Saturday morning (I took care of that). Then I've had the noisy neighbors. The trashy neighbors. The nosey neighbors. But here, in southern coastal Delaware I have the best neighbors I could ever hope for an even better, this neighborhood is always quiet except for the occasional summer time "concert" across Route One in Hudson Fields which sometimes gets carried away with itself and goes into the night with loud speaks at full blast shouting the "MF" word (that hasn't happened for a couple years now). 

Out of frustration Pat and his neighbor "Sam" (Samantha, who is also a caregiver to her husband in addition to her full-time job, she needs the sleep) have contacted the local radio station and newspaper to publicize the lack of city action against their disruptive neighbors who don't even pay to live there or taxes. Isn't that the way it often is? Good, law abiding citizens have to have their quality of life destroyed by those members of our society who are too lazy or self indulged to care how their life affects their neighbors. And what is government for anyway than to protect us not only our physical safety from crime but also out quality of life that Pat pays very high taxes? Pat is seventy-five years old but he still has to work to keep up with the expense of living in his home in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. The squatters next door? They pay no taxes and disturbed the whole neighborhood. What is even worse is that Pat's city government does nothing. NOTHING! What a shame! Eventually Pat will move down here to Delaware to live with me, an old man who is rapidly failing but in the meantime this is what Pat has to put up with. Maybe this newspaper article in his local Hamilton newspaper will be the beginning of a change. Hopefully. 

Summer Season 2024 Officially Begins!

Bill and me, the Early Days Philadelphia 1979

The Memorial Day hordes have left. I didn't go out once. I did see the backed up traffic on Route One yesterday. Just as I predicated. I hope they all had a good time. Most of the weekend, the weather was perfect. Good for them!

As usual, the weekends are melancholy for me now that I'm alone. Bill and I never did anything spectacular on the summertime holidays. No backyard barbecues or having company over. Even though I was with Bill every day of the week for the last three years, the weekends were always something special. I don't know why, they just were. Maybe because I took him for several rides on the weekends. 

These days I don't have any reason to take a ride other than to go to the food store or doctor's appointments. One of which I had this morning. My six month dental visit. My dental hygienist affirmed to me again I have dry mouth. Hey, I sleep with my mouth open, just like many old people. When I go to bed I close my mouth but I always wake up in the middle of the night with my mouth wide open like a cadaver. What's to be done? She suggested these pills and a mouth rinse before I go to bed. I'm on that tonight. 

I also had a dermatology appointment today to check out a little spot on my right ear that's hurting. I suspect another keratosis growth. While I was in my hygienist's chair I received a phone call which I answered on my wrist (my Apple watch, Dick Tracy come to life). That was my dermatologist's office informing me that "Stephanie" (the person who takes care of my hotspots) was sick and could I reschedule? Of course I could. Now that appointment is at the end of June, after Pat and Glenn leave Casa Tipton-Kelly for their ten day stay.

About two hours later, when I was having lunch I get another call, this time on my iPhone. It's my eye doctor's office. I was informed that they have to cancel my June checkup (I need a new prescription, especially for my computer and the annual checkup on my cataract surgery a year ago) and could they reschedule?  What's going on here? I agreed to reschedule. Now that appointment is in September. Two medical cancellations in one day, what are the odds?  By the way, as I'm typing this blog entry I notice that my mouth has dropped open and my mouth is dry.  Ah ha! Old man syndrome. My father had the same affliction in his later years. Slack jaw. Old man present. 

I mowed the grass again this afternoon in the blazing sun. Whenever I do that I have to take a shower. I hate sweat. I'm still raking the grass. I've gotten my mowing down pretty good that I can use my John Deere Zero Degree turn riding mower to create lines of cut grass in my field out back. Easier to rake up. I don't know if I'll be able to rake grass as summer progresses though. With summertime here on the Delmarva peninsula comes humidity. I cannot work in humidity. No way, no how.  I've done it in the past and it's almost killed me plus I'm drenched like a pig going to slaughter. 

By the way, in reference to a previous foul mouthed blog entry post about Indian scammers I said "All Indians are scammers" or something to that effect. Obviously not "ALL" Indians are scammers, me painting with a broad brush again, but there sure are a lot of those soulless bastards who scam aren't they though? I don't see banks of Chinese, Japanese, English, French, German, Canadian, or even Mexican scammers. I see a lot of Mexicans around here where I live. They're out here working mowing grass, and general landscaping in this Delmarva heat and humidity. I don't see any of the "smart" Indians working mowing anyone's lawn. Oh no, they're "too smart." They would rather cheat old, lonely vulnerable widows and widowers out of what little money they have left to survive on. "Some" Indians do that. I stand corrected. And don't even get me started on the "some" Nigerian romance scammers. 

Again, two types of people in this world. The crooks and the victims. The wolves and the sheep. Just remember though if you get a call from the IRS threatening to arrest you "in forty-five minutes" for tax fraud unless you supply the scammer with thousands of dollars of gift cards, it's not legit. They're scammers, with an Indian accent. The accent alone should be a give away. Just saying.

Now to call Pat and see what he's up too and then I'll rake some of that cut grass now that the sun is going down. 

Oh, by the way, I've been making prints of pictures of me and Bill. Most of my pictures are digital. I am going to have prints made of some of my favorite pictures of me and Bill and put them in an album. I accidentally discovered this process of choosing the photos and having them printed and marking them on the back with the date and place the photos were taken, give me comfort. Yes, I am still grieving. I'm at a different level now but still pretty bad which I think I will be for the rest of my live. I ache for that man's company. I miss him so much. Much more than I have even imagined. 

Memorial Day 2024 Musings

 Here comes the summer onslaught!

Memorial Day is the official start of the summer season here in the Rehoboth Beach area of Lower Slower Delaware.

I noticed the increase in traffic yesterday when I tried to exit the development I live in which is on the east side of Route One also known as Coastal Highway.

Here we go. I now have to adjust my outings to avoid exiting my development on the weekends for the summer. Last night just before sundown I made a quick grocery run to Food Lion up in Milton to get a back of potatoes. 

I was out of baking potatoes.

Baking potatoes are a staple of my diet these days. I make potato salad which I have every day for lunch. 

I also needed potatoes to make beef stew. 

I probably go through a five pound bag of potatoes in a week. 

Yesterday at five o'clock I had a Zoom call with my friend Glenn of California and Renee of Pennsylvania. Renee recently lost her husband. Glenn  had lost his partner of thirty-five years three years ago. This call was a "therapy" call. Renee is still going through the worst of the grieving process. Glenn is pretty well past his grieving for his loss. I'm getting there. I'm a lot better now that I was last month. I'm actually beginning to see a future for myself with Bill in my life. 

What we talked about on yesterday's Zoom call was the Meaning of Life. Yes, we have the answer. I'll go into that in a future blog post. But suffice it to say we're all in agreement. We're here to learn and love. That makes sense. 

I woke up this morning to thunder showers. Bad news for the hordes coming down to the beach for Memorial Day weekend. Not a problem for me, my lawn can use the rain. A good thing about not working at a job now is that I don't have to go anywhere. When I worked at the hotel so often I had to drive to work in the pounding rain. I never have to do that again. I can just stay here at home, Casa Tipton-Kelly. 

Only a couple of weeks now until Glenn and Pat make the trek from their respective homes in California and Canada to spend a week with me here in the midst of the Summer Season. Yes, we will dive into the crowds on the boardwalk in Rehoboth Beach. Looking forward to their visit. Nice to have other people in the house again. 

Scam Call Center HACKED and DESTROYED With FBI Malware

This is what I've been looking at lately, Indian scammer call centers being scammed. Watching these YouTube videos of these motherfucker Indian scammers being exposed and scammed and having their files destroyed is almost as much fun as watching the YouTube rat eradication videos. 

Whoops! Did I use the "MF" word? I surely did folks because that is exactly what these Indian scammer call centers are. They are soulless bastards who have no compunction about scamming thousands if not millions of trusting older Americans. 

Yesterday Pat almost got scammed. He received a phone call that his TD bank account was "compromised". All the sing songy Indian accent bank representative named "Bob" (sure) needed from Pat was to "verify his account." You know what that is, that is to give the scum bag scammer your personal information and then they are off to the races.

Who among us hasn't received one of those e-mails stating that our account was charged an amount like $499 and a blurb that if this isn't your charge to call the number indicated on the e-mail. When  you call the number you're immediately connected to one of those sing songy Indian accent voices reading from a script. They always identify themselves with a name like "Bob", "Jim" or "John". In actuality their name is probably "Ayansh", "Bed", or "Rudra". 

Check out this link of the disgusting Indian scammers getting scammed themselves. Click here.

You tell them that the charge isn't yours. "Anansh" or "Bob" is all so helpful and he will "refund" your money. But first he has to have access to your bank account. Your first clue that something is amiss. 

You're upset and want to get rid of this mistaken charge and "Bob" is all so helpful. Remember, this piece of shit is reading from a script. When you give him access to your bank account (after you sign in) "Bob" immediately places is fake software on your account to show you he's putting your "refund" in your bank account. But.....now pay attention, he always makes a "mistake" and adds an extra zero to the amount of the refund. WHOOPS! Now "Bob" tells you he made a mistake and he would lose his job if this isn't corrected. Could you please help him so he doesn't lose his job and his ability to feed his family and take care of his new baby. Yes folks, this pond scum says all these lies playing on your sympathy when in reality he just considers you just another "stupid American." 

He tells you to go to your bank, withdraw the difference and either send it to him in a box (at a drop-off point, usually some "dumb American" who has previously been scammed or buy gift cards. 

Would you fall for this scam? You would be surprised at how many people do. Usually elderly Americans that these creatures prey upon. 

When Pat called me yesterday, upset that his bank account had been so called compromised, I told him what he should have done immediately is hang the phone up. HANG UP!  Don't even say anything to the dog shit Indian with the sing songy accents "Bob" who called him. Don't waste your breath on this human garbage. They have no souls. They are soulless, and the Indian government who knows about these massive call centers are equally soulless and human garbage. Pat went right to his bank to check to see if he account was "compromised." Thank goodness it wasn't. But what a shame that there exists in the world these massive call centers full of scammers, backed by the Indian government who take advantage of elderly Americans and others. 

I've visited Pat in Canada many times over the past ten years. I've often wondered why there are so many rich Indians. Wonder where they get their money from?

Have I been scammed by this Indian filth? Oh there have been attempts. Not successful but attempts. I can check my Junk File e-mail right now and there are several text messages telling me I have a "Package that they are trying to deliver to me."  Sure.  

I almost got caught a few years ago by a Pay Pal scam.

Be warned folks. The Nigerian Prince Scam has probably run its course, most people know about the $42,000,000 dollars that the Nigerian Prince has locked in a frozen account and will pay you (a stranger) ten percent of the $42,000,000 if you just let him use your bank account to launder his fortune. 

Now we have the gigantic Indian call center scammers with the "refunds."  

Ron Over The Years

A change up in my blog posting folks. Yes, I continue to grieve for my loss of Bill but I have to move forward with my new life.

This morning I noticed I have a load of Memory photos automatically created by my Mac computer. I've decided to share all these videos of my photos and videos with my You Tube account and in turn my blog. This is for posterity folks. At eighty-two years old, I won't be around much longer so I better get with it and post all these videos. I also have many old 8MM films that I converted to videos that up until now I have in a private You Tube account. I will gradually also make all those video public.

When I die I doubt that whoever goes through my possessions will find them of any importance or interest. My old photos and videos will probably end up on the curb on a rainy Spring Saturday morning after a failed garage sale. Believe me folks, I've seen those image before. I even rescued old photos and was able to find a home for them with a distant relative of those photos even though she was reluctant to accept them. I have to face the facts that when I'm gone, I may be missed by a handful of people but none of them will be interested in my thousands of photos and videos of my life. Not even Pat, being the minimalist that he is. So be it. So I will post my old photos and videos in the off chance that someone, perhaps some distant relative in the future (one hundred to five hundred years) will find the life of this one individual interesting and a bit of history to save and contribute to the history of the twentieth and twenty-first century. I may not be famous, rich or a person of incredible talent but I did live and exist in this time period and I think that is well worth preserving for posterity. 

Respondence To A Condolence Letter

Today I received a long condolence letter from a former classmate of mine. She had lost her husband (also named "Ron") a number of years ago. In her letter she told me that there is no time limit on bereavement and related to me how she has dealt with the loss of her husband over the years. This is my response to her very thoughtful and kind letter of support for me at this time of my life. 

Patty,

Thank you so much for your very thoughtful card and note on the passing of my Bill Kelly. That was very kind of you to think of me at this time of my bereavement for the greatest loss in my life.

As you probably know Bill and I were together for a long time (fifty-nine years). Losing Bill was like losing half of me. I literally have been with him my whole adult life. We met when I was twenty-two years old and he was thirty-five. We had almost sixty really good years together. 

The last three years of Bill’s life I was his full-time caregiver. In January of 2021 (during the height of COVID) he fell and had a brain concussion. He was never the same after that fall. I thought I lost him then when they airlifted him to Thomas Jefferson Hospital in Philadelphia and he spent a week in the ICU. Thankfully he survived and then spent the next two seeks at PAM, a rehab facility in Dover. I brought him home from there and the last three years I feed him, dressed him and kept him company all day (I quit my job to be with him). He did lose his sight (macular degeneration), which really distressed him because he always liked to be kept busy. I took him on his daily ride which he so loved because he could see color and light from his peripheral vision. Riding in our car now without Bill in the passenger seat is especially hard for me now. 

Bill gradually got weaker and the last two and a half weeks of Bill’s life he went downhill fast. Literally. He kept sliding out of his favorite chair in our sunroom where he spent most of his day. It got to the point where I had to keep calling the local EMT’s to get him up off the floor (at a $100 each visit!). 

Finally his condition got to a point (he was hallucinating) and couldn’t eat because of his throat problem, that I just could not take care of him anymore. 

He was receiving VA home health care and home hospice care. The hospice nurse arranged for him to be admitted to the Delaware Hospice Center in Milford on Wednesday February 21st at nine o’clock at night. I followed the ambulance carrying Bill to the Hospice Center. I stayed with him that night and all day the next Day Thursday. I left before it got dark on Thursday (I hate to drive at night) and returned Friday early in the morning to again stay with him all day. He was unconscious the whole time but I believe he could hear me. Many times I whispered into his ear “I love you Bill”. One of my friends suggested to put my iPhone up to his ear so they could say goodbye. I did and that gave me the idea to call other friends and relatives. They all said “Goodbye” to Bill. 

I again left on Friday before it got dark to return to our empty home. I had a feeling I would never see Bill alive again. And I was right. At 2:30 AM early morning February 24 my iPhone rang. I knew what the call was about. I picked up the phone and the hospice nurse said “Mr. Tipton I am sorry to inform you but Mr. Kelly passed away last night at one thirty.” 

I knew this call was coming Patty but still…….my whole world changed in an instant. 

I have not been the same since. You’re right, we all have to take our time in our grieving for the loss of the greatest love of our life. Your Ron was a special person, I knew that right away when I first met him. I was so happy for you and Ron. And even now I know you miss him terribly. 

When they say “Time heals all wounds”, that’s not really true. I tore my quadricep muscle on my right let in 2013. I did a lot of damage. I couldn’t use that leg. It was useless. However, I had surgery and then three months of rehab and now I can walk on that leg. It will never be the same, always pins and needles from falling asleep but thank God I don’t have pain. The leg has healed but you know what? The scar is there. It will always be there. It’s not as horrible looking as it was when they first cut my leg open but it is still there, somewhat faded as it is now. For the rest of my life the scar of not having Bill in  my life will be my companion. I will never be the same person. However, I have been very fortunate in that I have been able to console myself with a very good friend who also lost his partner just a month before Bill’s accident. We talk to each other frequently on Zoom. 

Last month my cousin Barbara lost her brother (also my cousin, same age as me) whom she was the caregiver for. We console each other. Then last month my good friend and former co-worker Renee just lost her husband. She is going through some really rough times now because her husband’s death was unexpected. She is only forty-seven years old and still has a whole life ahead of her. I console her. And we all console each other. We joke that we don’t need shrinks, we can take care of “this”, the biggest loss of our lives ourselves. 

I saw this screed posted on Facebook and it says exactly what it is to loss one’s spouse. 

We’re at the end of our lives (I know how old you are (smile) but my life isn’t over yet. I am fortunate that I have a very good friend that I met eleven years ago and we have traveled together every three months for years. Bill didn’t like to travel so he was all right with my friend Pat Flynn and I traveling. Of course I love Pat and he loves me but he always understood that I would never leave Bill. There was never a problem in our relationship. Actually Pat was always the person I was looking for my whole life. It’s funny but when I moved in with Bill, which I was reluctant to do way back in early 1965, because I told him he “wasn’t the one.” He said that was alright I just want us to live together. He also said “You do your thing, I will never hold you back. Just be discreet.” I liked Bill but at the time didn’t love him. I moved in with him (he lived in Pennsauken, New Jersey) so I could be closer to my new job at Girard Bank in Philadelphia. And then guess what happened, while I was about “doing my thing” over the years I done went and fell in love with Bill. How did I find that out? I was going to leave him one time for someone else (which would have turned out to be a disaster) and when I told him, he didn’t cause a scene. He didn’t yell. He wasn’t angry. He just looked up from the gardening he was doing outside and said softly “Please don’t leave me.”  Then like a bolt of lightening I thought “What am I thinking about?” I CAN’T LEAVE BILL. I would never be able to sleep at night wondering how he was taking care of himself. You see we had a very beneficial to both of us relationship all the years we were together. He did the handyman stuff and I ran the household. I urged him to take early retirement when he was fifty-five years old  and I was the sole support of us until he could collect his Social Security at age sixty-two. We had a mutually beneficial relationship and here I don’t went and fell in love with him. Of course I didn’t leave him then and never even considered leaving him even when I met Pat in August of 2013. 

Now my life has changed. I will grieve for the rest of my life for Bill. However many years I have left to live in this life, that hurt of not having Bill in my life will be like a scar on my soul. Never completely healing but enabling me to go on functioning living my life.  

Pat is a Canadian. His mother was American. Pat and I will eventually get married. First I have to submit a K-1 Fiance which will take about nine months to a year to process. If I live that long we will get married and then I’m off to races again. But I will never forget Bill and all the wonderful years he gave me. 

Thank you again Patty for your warm condolences on Bill’s passing. 

Always, my best to you.

Your friend and former classmate (DHS Class of 1959)

Ron

And yes, I didn't include the images in my letter to Patty. 

Talking and writing about my loss is helping me get through this very difficult time of my life. Wether I throughly blog postings, talking to others who have lost loved ones like my neighbor Linda yesterday, of just thinking about all the good memories of have of Bill and our life together, I'm getting through this folks. I was helpful through to read that my friend Patty said "There is no time limit on bereavement."

Rough Few Days

Just when I think I'm overcoming the biggest loss in my life (Bill's death February 22), I'm back in the hole of bereavement again. 

What brings this about I'm finding is a few overcast and rainy days. Sunny days are much better for me. I seem to be able to get on my life without Bill. But a string of dreary, cloudy days and especially the weekend; bring about melancholy about just how much I miss having Bill here with me in our home.

This short video was taken February 3, 2021 at a rehab facility in Dover Delaware. This was during the height of COVID. At first the hospital staff wouldn't let me in to visit Bill but they relented during my second visit to take him his favorite blanket and a hat for him since he was no longer wearing his toupee. Thereafter they always let me in because they said I had a "calming effect" on him. You think? I loved that man so much and he loved me even more. I was so happy that I was able to take care of him here at our home for the next three years of our life until he died three years later almost to the day at the Delaware Hospice Center in Milford after only a stay of three days. The last two and a half weeks of Bill's life he was so weak he kept sliding out of his favorite chair in the sunroom and I had to keep calling the local EMT's (at a $100 a pop) to help me get him up off the floor. 

I was so fortunate that I was able to take care of Bill here at our home we both loved so much, with the help of the hospice nurses and the VA home healthcare nurses. They were all so kind and helpful but at the end I just couldn't manage. The tipping point came when the hospice worker was showing me how to administer the morphine pain killer injections and turning him over in the hospital bed to change his Depends. I was physically and mentally exhausted. I JUST COULD NOT DO IT and to this day I fee guilty about that. I know I shouldn't but I do. But most of all I miss Bill. Oh how I miss him. We loved each other so much. 

About an hour ago I was talking to my friend Renee who lost her husband unexpectedly last month. I've been helping her through bereavement. She has also seen signs of her husband contacting her, letting her know that he's alright and looking after her. Two days ago her dog had a paper in her mouth. Renee pulled the paper out of her mouth and found this.

"Tom" was the name of her husband

"Tom" was the name of her husband. Now that is just too much of a coincidence. Renee told me it's not like her husband wrote his name on all his receipts, he didn't. But why this? It was her husband contacting her. The same morning I was reading Renee's text message on my iPhone a red cardinal flew right into my path, almost hitting me. I knew immediately that was Bill. I've never seen a red cardinal before where we live here at Casa Tipton-Kelly. Both Bill and I always liked red cardinals, often giving each other Christmas cards with a red cardinal on it. Also, the red cardinal is often used from those who have passed over as a messenger to their loved ones that they are all right and to give them hope. Renee told me that she shared her story with some friends and she's convinced that some of them thing she's one of those crazy ladies. That's the way I feel now when I tell Pat or someone else (except my friend Glenn who believes me) the times Bill has visited me here at our home. He hasn't been here lately but I expect him to make periodic visits to me to reassure me that he is waiting on the Other Side for me. Just as I was preparing our home for him after I left him at the rehab facility over three years ago, promising that I would being him "home", Bill is now waiting for me to return "home" and be with him on the Other Side. And yes folks, I definitely do believe in life after life. Our souls just occupy this human form for a short while but we eventually return "home" which is Heaven and that is where Bill awaits me.