29.18631N by 94.47416W

Although he passed away in December, and we held a graveside service for he and Mom in March, we wanted to honor a request that Dad made to me many years ago. He asked that his ashes be spread from the Bolivar Ferry, half-way between Galveston and Bolivar, since he had spent so much time there in his youth.

Ed had retained 1/2 of his ashes - not buried in Rockdale - and worked to arrange an event with the Bonura side of the family. After several delays, plans finally came together for July 21st. Ed arranged a luncheon at the Stingaree and Jerry arranged a charter back in Galveston for later that evening.

We all boarded the Ferry for the ride to Bolivar. Jerry, Hope, Ed & Ray ...



Switching places with Hope ...



Initially he was not too keen on the idea of driving onto a boat, but Memphis soon warmed up to the idea of ferry travel.



After a short detour, we found the Stingaree!



We had a big group and a great lunch! It was good to catch up with our Beaumont area cousins, including Dad's only living sibling - Uncle Joe Lee.



Before lunch, we entertained ourselves out on the deck, watching the barge traffic.






Hope, Mary & Memphis on the deck ...



Kent, enjoying a cold XX!



We saw lots of seagulls, pelicans & dolphin on the ferry rides and took this photo of the Bolivar Light House while waiting in the L-O-N-G line to cross back to Galveston.



After a quick run to pick up some flowers and snacks, we headed to Pier 19 to board the Island Girl, the larger of the two Aqua Safari fishing boats. Fresh off his second ferry ride, Memphis had become an "old salt" and was singing and ready to go!



Dad's ashes in a pretty wooden box, provided by Suzanne, against a backdrop of our very utilitarian fishing boat.



Leaving port ...



Toni, Memphis & Ray ...



Ray, Kent, Ed & Hope ...



Jerry, enjoying the view



Photographing the photographer ...



We stopped several times along the way to watch dolphin swimming by and soon we were at the mid-point between Galveston and Bolivar. Our captain pointed the boat up-wind and we shared a Prosecco toast (Italian champagne) to Dad.

As Ed got the bag of ashes out of the box, we noticed a group of dolphin in the distance, making their way towards us. Three dolphins continued towards the boat and surfaced several times as they approached us. They came up about 3 feet from us before diving under the boat and surfacing again on the other side, as they made their way towards the lighthouse. Nature always amazes me and I believe it was a blessing, of sorts.

I took this photo with a telephoto lense before they got near the boat.



Ed started the ceremony by scattering some ashes and then dropping a lavendar and red rose into the water.






Mary went next ...





Followed by me (no photos) - we saw some barge/tanker action since we were more-or-less stopped in the middle of the channel.



Jerry spreading ashes ...



and flowers



Followed by Ray ...



and Hope



Ed finished the task ...



and we had a pretty stream of flowers and dried rose petals (being tossed by Memphis) trailing the boat.



We were visited by a single seagull and it made me think of the song, I'll Fly Away. Dad would have been very happy to know that we had carried out his wishes, expressed before the dementia took hold, and more importantly that we were all together out on the water. It was something that he loved and sailing in Galveston Bay was something that we all shared with him.



Heading back for the "harbor cruise".



Ms. Hope ...



Toni, Hope, Ray, Ed & Jerry ...



On the way back, we passed a large, sunken concrete boat - apparently it's been out there for years. I was clueless!






Hope, Jerry, Ed & Mary ...



Memphis & Toni



The beautiful Elissa ...



Toni and Ray ...



Memphis, taking it all in

Glen Campbell: The Goodbye Tour

Jerry and I support The Grand in Galveston and we've seen some great shows over the years. After this season had been announced, they came back to subscribers and offered tickets to Glen Campbell's "Goodbye Tour" on July 8th.



Glen Campbell has been very up-front about his Alzheimer's diagnosis and they were accepting donations for the cause as everyone entered the Grand. He performs with his daughter and two sons, along with his long-time "musical arranger" and several talented extras.



After a funny start, where he said he thought he had been the opening act at the Grand - not possible, since it opened in 1984 - he seemed to be enjoying himself. Having fun and grateful to be on stage, he sang all the big ones and the crowd went wild when he sang Galveston.



His between song banter was up-beat, but it was obvious that he really struggles with dementia. He took queues from his daughter and she was often seen giving him the "OK sign". Mistakes or forgotten words were quickly dismissed with a joke and a laugh. It must be terrible to KNOW that you're losing your mind.



He read the words from prompters on the floor, but his voice sounded clear and strong and we were amazed that he was able to play complicated guitar riffs without mistakes or prompting. It is amazing how the mind can hold onto some things and lose others.



After the concert, the Galveston Mayor proclaimed July 8, 2012 as Glen Campbell Day and presented him with a gold key to the city. He seemed genuinely touched.

We were grateful to have seen him and, after watching Dad's struggle with dementia, it was interesting to see someone approach Alzheimer's in such a fearless way. Not many patients would be willing to get on stage and risk the embarrassment. His tour will help to raise awareness and hopefully funding as well. Look for his daughter to be a musical success - she has a fantastic voice.

June - Part 2

As the days ticked by in June, Ike and I perfected the art of "hand feeding". As he began to gain strength, it became obvious that Ike had suffered a mini-stroke ... slowly, the weakness along the right side of his body was fading away and he was walking straight and even holding his head straight, at times. What he couldn't do - without any teeth - was eat on his own. He would try to eat a few bites, but he just couldn't get it going. Under the vet's instructions, I broke my own rule and fed him.

Beaba baby spoons and a couple of small food processor spatulas were amazing tools. I would get the spoon near his mouth and he would start moving his jaws to eat it. Bless his heart, he wanted to stay. Drs. Rose & Garrou felt that if we could give him a few weeks that he may regain the ability - and desire - to eat on his own.

Although he wasn't eating on his own, he would still sneak a drink out of the cat fountain!



Along with wanting to spend more time on the patio, he made the circuit of his old sleeping places in his room. Here he is in Jerry's closet after just waking up from a nap.



I was very glad that he was able to make one more trip to his home town - Galveston. He never could stand to be in a car kennel, but he would sit quietly on my lap as Jerry drove. I miss that.



Out on the balcony in the setting sun, Jerry and "his cat".



He slept in his favorite chair, on the ottoman and under the balcony love seat. Painful for us to know that it was the last time, but needed closure for our little friend.












It may seem strange to give a dying cat a bath, but as soon as Ike came here I scrubbed him down and he seemed pretty happy about being clean. For him, part of being a family cat was keeping clean and he worked night and day on his fur. Along with the difficulty in eating, he wasn't able to groom himself and my baby wipes and brushing weren't keeping up with the mess we were making during the hand feeding sessions.

So, for the last time, I threw him in the sink and scrubbed him down!



He looks a bit perturbed, but he was grateful to have shiny clean fur. Only cat I've ever bathed that wasn't scared of the hair dryer and even seemed to enjoy it!



He topped off the styling session with a nap by the fireplace.



Although he was eating everything I fed him, he became weaker and lost a little more weight. He looks shiny and clean out on the patio.



I love this picture. Here he is sleeping in "his" bed in my office, covered with a baby blanket to keep the draft off.



Ike's last day was terribly sad for everyone ... Ike knew, the boys knew and I couldn't stop crying. He snuck a drink from the boy's fountain, just to show us his will was strong.



He cruised out on the patio to spend a little time before our appointment.



As Jerry and I sat in the lounge chairs - talking about how we would miss Ike - Denny went over to Ike and layed under the chair with him one last time.






As we drove to see Dr. Garrou, Ike stood up in my lap - alert and looking out the windows. Knowing Little would meet him at the Rainbow Bridge.



The boys have had a hard time adjusting to losing their second friend in a little over two years. Denny could not stay on the patio. He would go out, look around, lay down in the normal places and then come to the door to be let in. We would repeat the process many times during those days.



Elvis just sulked - he stayed upstairs in bed most of the day. We went to Galveston and it was hard to go without an Ike on my lap, but it was even harder on the boys.



... it takes TWO bar stools for Elvis



The bed on the ottoman in my office, that has held a cat every day since it was positioned there, still goes unused. Even while squirrel and dove watching, they crowd onto one side of the ottoman as if Ike is still sleeping there.



Maybe he is.

Godspeed, Ike. Godspeed.

Ike Brewer
Unknown ~ July 2, 2012