PRELUDE TO DEATH CALL

As I mentioned in my blog last week, it will be five years this week since Carl died. People celebrate wedding anniversaries and years of service at places of employment. It seemed only fitting to honor Carl’s memory this fifth year of his passing. PRELUDE TO DEATH CALL will let many of you know the man himself. DEATH CALL will be my rendition of the months prior to Carl’s death including death, memorial, and cremation. EPILOGUE will be a candid look into the lives of those left behind. As I am reminded, my blog site is titled, CSI - Candid Sharing Inc.

I would venture to guess that the majority of my blog audience (doubt it would take more than two hands to count them) never met Carl. He was born and raised in a well-to-do family in San Bernardino, California, and was the middle child between two sisters. His parents adopted two boys who were much younger than Carl, so he concentrated on playing baseball. Went up to the pony league and was considered quite the pitcher. Unfortunately his arm couldn’t keep up with the demand of the game so Carl turned to golf. Carl loved the sport and played on a regular basis with one of his best friends. Even won a Pepsi tournament while under their employment. Carl was also self-employed as a meat salesman for many years until the business was sold.

Before coming to visit his parents in Albuquerque, Carl had lost 100 pounds. He attributed his weight gain to some emotional situations from the past. We attended the same church and were part of the singles group. It was easy to talk to Carl and we got along quite well. Remember sitting at a singles' gathering and Carl made some crude remark, and I slugged him in the arm. Think that was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

The phone rang one Saturday afternoon. It was Carl. “I’m in the hospital,” he said. Carl had gone to the doctor, and Lee told him to sit down. “You have diabetes.” Carl said he just wanted to tell me. Although flattered, still was puzzled why he would call and tell me--we barely knew each other. A few friends came to visit Carl in the hospital. We left Carl’s room and in the parking lot Donna said that she noticed Carl’s eyes fixated on me during the entire visit. We went on our first date the following week and were married 16 months later.

Carl really was a personable guy and the ultimate salesman who could literally sell you the shirt off his back. This man actually loved me and always wanted to see me happy, even if it meant having to tell a lie or two. I didn‘t like to spend much money especially on take-out or going out to eat and Carl found ways to win my heart and periodically would bring home “free” Chinese food and Sonic (best onion rings in the world). Never could understand it but remember, Carl was the ultimate salesman; however, Carl finally admitted that the food wasn’t always free. The managers were not always working when Carl decided to bring home my goodies. Carl knew what honesty meant to me and once the trust was broken, it would take a hard sell to win it back. But have to give the man kudos for trying. I was the tightwad and Carl was the spend thrift. It really didn’t take much to please me. Carl learned early on that a single flower worked better than a bouquet and a York peppermint patty did wonders over a box of See's.

We had our issues though, and I could have easily sent him packing but commitment meant something. Just doesn’t seem that way now with the attitude that when you marry and it doesn’t work out, you get a divorce. Remember watching an interview with Brad Pitt while he was married to Jennifer Aniston. He basically admitted not knowing if he would always love his wife. Excuse me? What wedding vows did you take? (Of course, now we know Mr. Pitt actually was telling the truth.)

Carl knew how to make me laugh, and he did it on a regular basis. He was more than just Carl. He was Inspector Clouseau (from the Pink Panther for those who are unaware). Carl did a great Clouseau. But Carl did a much better Donald Duck. Even when Jonathan was in the womb, Donald would talk to him. And I was Donald’s “Boo Boo Bear.”

Carl was diagnosed with Type I diabetes at the age of 35 and struggled with this disease for the next 18 years. Type I diabetes is usually only seen in children and young adults and can result in serious complications such as heart disease, blindness, nerve and kidney damage. Carl took insulin shots several times a day and literally had to change his lifestyle, but Carl never wanted to admit that anything was wrong and basically continued to do his own thing. Unfortunately, that disregard shortened his life span.

Living life as a diabetic took a toll on Carl, and living with a diabetic took a toll on his family. I rarely got a decent and peaceful night’s sleep and plans constantly had to be changed because of the aftermath from an insulin reaction. Physical exercise, overeating, and stress are just a few things that can affect the blood sugar. Carl had a rough time and EMS was at our doorstep more times than we could count until I was able to administer a glucagon emergency kit that would immediately raise his blood sugar. One day after a five-minute examination, a nephrologist warned Carl that he had a year before his kidneys would shut down. Carl turned a deaf ear once again. Two years later, Carl started preparation for undergoing dialysis treatment.

At the end, Carl and I were fortunate to work together. We managed a self-storage facility in Albuquerque, and our district manager made monthly visits. During one of those visits, Mike commented about one of Carl’s telephone conversations with a potential customer. Mike was amazed and said it sounded as if Carl was talking to his best friend. That was Carl. The ultimate salesman. A friend to all. A kind and gentle spirit. A man who just could not cope with the fact that he was diabetic.

Carl was quite the artist, and he seemed to find peace while drawing. Most people didn’t know about this talent until I displayed some of Carl’s work at the memorial service.