Goodbye, Tezza

 Terry (the old rascal) our friend with a little "F" and a capital "F" (meaning he's a Quaker) has taken himself off to Thailand- where the care home staff are young and comely- which matters a lot to him. Teresa- who has been sort of caring for him (I don't know if he's been paying her) is left dealing with the stuff- material and immaterial- that he has left behind. We said we'd take a couple of bags full of clothes and stash them in our attic along with the ones we took in the last time he went abroad. When I show up to collect them they have transmuted into four. Teresa and I commiserate with one another. She has been given power of attorney. "How's that going to work between here and Thailand?"I ask. She turns her mouth down and shrugs.

Terry says he'll be back in the Spring. He's a sick man and very forgetful so I doubt it.  In her final phone conversation with him before he flew Ailz says- more in hope than expectation- "Have a great time and don't die..."