Although today's title could be a fairly accurate analog for my life, it refers to the fact that apparently the navigation sidebar has gone missing. Don't know how or when, although it was working fine after I posted yesterday.
EDIT: The nav bar, as Lynnae pointed out, was actually there all the time. It was just lurking at the bottom of my somewhat verbose entry for yesterday - the width of the movie graphic had knocked the page layout off-kilter. All is well now.
Went to Gilda's last night. There are now more people who have lost spouses than any other relationship in that group. I can't (and won't) break confidentiality by talking specifics, but there was a lot of discussion of coping through the holidays and distribution of the spouse's clothing and other possessions to family members. I got some good pointers on donating Sam's underthings to various women's shelters in the area. I had wondered about that. Not like I'd want to give her intimates to any of my female relatives, nor would they want them. But if a woman has to leave an abusive relationship, like NOW, without the benefit of packing a bag, and she can get temporary use from some of Sam's PJs and underwear, I think that's a good thing. Sam would approve. Between Kayleigh and the theater group's costume department, I think the rest of the stuff will be spoken for.
Put the kids to bed and watched a bit of the new Red Dwarf series 7 DVD on the portable player, then nodded off and dreamed of my grandfather. This is my mom's father, affectionately known as "Opa", as my mom's parents were the ones to come visit in Germany right after I was born (so they got the German names for grandmother and grandfather). He was raised on a walnut farm in southern California, was a Naval officer in the Pacific theater during WWII, an educator, Presbyterian church founder and all around upstanding citizen. At 89, he's still sharp as a tack and possessed of the wry family humor I inherited, despite diminished vision and hearing. He composes original limericks and poems, especially on the subject of new friends he meets. He's always got a hug or a pun for you (trust me - take the hug!). He recently walked around with a burst appendix for a week before doctors figured out what was wrong with him and removed it. The man is an icon to me.
In the dream, we were in a doctor's office. He was sitting on the edge of the exam table, and the doctor was just finishing up his exam. I approached him and hugged him tight, and told him I loved him. Then suddenly he wasn't Opa anymore. He was my grandpa Ken, my dad's father who died in 1984. I just continued to hold him as he changed again, into my dad. It was as if I was communing with all three of forefathers back two generations, like I was inherently aware of the genetic and psychological history and how I was the product of it all. It was a real 2001: A Space Odyssey sequence, for sure. There was some mention of "moving on", and I couldn't tell if it was Ken or my dad saying it. And regardless of whether one takes this kind of message as being figurative (i.e. I'm the one "moving on") or literal (their spirit is transitioning to a higher existence or whatever), it's not always something one wants to hear.
So the recap is that I am a bit disturbed that my living grandfather appeared in a dream with my deceased father and grandfather, but I get the larger context. It wasn't about him specifically - it was about continuity through the generations. And in that context, the dream was comforting. I awoke happy and ready to hit the day running.
The water damage guys left an ozone generator going downstairs to kill any remaining bacteria and mold spores. I realize it's just oxygen with an extra O molecule, but when it began smelling like bleach upstairs, I knew it was time to shut it off. The adjuster comes back to tour the street tomorrow. Hopefully then the actual reconstruction will start. I want a real bed to sleep in.