My dying neighbor and I, the Parkinsons kid, walked down and slung our legs over the poles that he and a buddy installed years ago to stop erosion.

This creek took out the whole neighborhood back in the Nineties, and for the last few years has floated tubers down it, it's a place I worked for, and now they're done.

Daniel and his wife are hunkering down, I contemplated running up to the hospital to have a Wendy's fish sandwich pumped out of my stomach, and here we are. Happy Easter on our back creek!

Ahh, watching the holiday rush at the airports as people spread out across the country to celebrate their saviors resurrection.

All I care about is that it's going to be in the low eighties here tomorrow, the hell with everything else. I snuck Daniel up to the store for a FireBall today, his wife is next door and cracking down.

I said today that maybe I'll encounter a woman, who want's to hang out with me, one more time. The odds are so low...

So what am I going to do? I really don't know. There are two possible directions, sliding down into nothing until I die, or saying the hell with everything and taking life out in a giant splash!

I dug out a big old air fryer today that I bought a few years back and used once. Then I went to Krogers and bought this family meal package with a boneless beef chuck roast, potatoes, carrots and an onion.

Cooked it up good so the meat would melt in my mouth, turns out everything did, then I sprinkled some red pepper seasoning on it, spilt the small red potatoes in half and slapped on some sour cream.

Then I carried a couple paper plates with food over to Daniel and Jennifer, they liked it.

It's a beautiful Easter weekend here. As I was walking into the store a little girl with a huge smile came running up to me, followed by her mother with a big sign asking for money. She was young, very pretty and I would have loved to just swoop them up and helped them out, but I'm an old man and it would have been strange. So I just gave her some money.

Daniel is suffering from chest pains and a conviction that he's dying from heart disease. He's really old, mid-fifties, and nothing I say seems to lighten his load. There's a Monday appointment coming up at the hospital to discuss stents.

My other friend is off the charts, missing in action. I know his girlfriend is in jail here over child-support issues, and hopefully he's alright.

So happy easter everyone, christ is risen and the eggs are hidden. I used to love this holiday, hiding eggs and notes all over the neighborhood in the early morning, and then dropping off a starter note at Riley's front door, then waiting for him to find me in the end, with a big basket.

Now not so much. I had a great egg hunt here with Steph's grand-daughters a few years back, now they probably wouldn't even recognize me on the street, and that breaks my heart.

People around me my age are dying. I'll be seven in July, with seven decades underneath.

I've really been abusing my old body lately but I think that's just caused by depression over the fact that I have no one to love. And the more I abuse myself, lessens the possibility of that ever happening.

I'm in survival mode. Every morning I swing my legs out of bed to my left and plant my feet square into the slippers I left there the night before, which I don't remember doing.

Embracing the knowledge that I'm a good man. I love and respect most everyone I meet. I have no ill intentions towards absolutely anyone.

Somehow my genetics have allowed me to abuse myself and survive. I've made great contributions to this world, and I've totally messed up a few.

One day in the mid sixties, I was standing in the middle of the desert with my thumb out on Route 66, heading West.

A car pulled over. The driver was a buff good looking guy, two young hot women were onboard, and I slid into the back seat next to one. I was immediately offered a cocktail and the party was on.

Their story was, it all started in New York. The girls were school teachers, and they had time off, a good car, wanted to travel, but neither liked to drive. So they hooked up with this heroin dealer who needed to get to California, and the road trip was on.

We checked into a motel somewhere in Southern CA. and the guy went off with the car to score his dope. I remember that night was the first, and last time I ever did that drug, and then it was just sniffing it.

The guy split the next morning and the girls turned to me and asked if I'd like to drive them through Mexico, all expenses covered, with more female friendship than I could probably handle.

As I look back on that pivotal moment, I wonder where I would be now if I had said yes?

I've had an interesting day and it's only around noon. I've been to Square 40 for breakfast and dragged my neighbor back over for coffee later. Met a regular named Gail and I sat at her table and had breakfast. Talked to a whole bunch of locals, including Daniel's ex-sergeant back when he was a cop here.

I also chatted with a couple of lovely ladies in front of the place, representing the Jehovah's Witnesses. We talked about God and life, for a bit.

Now I find myself the odd man out, sitting at the bottom of my big round table, while my two high testosterone buddies drag out a chessboard and dive in. Neither have played in many years, but they seem to be having a good time!

Me too, my front door is wide open on my quiet little street, I've got an oldies station playing and my two friends are deep into chess.

Daniel got home from work today and drove our friend home. That's how it works down here in the South, we take care of each other. I'm down to a couple friends and I'm worried about both of them.

My neighbor Daniel has become my best friend, and we've been hanging out together for going on six years now. I share him with his wife Jennifer, who has her own home up the road. I like Jen, every things cool.

He was born and raised here half a century ago. Married, had two boys, and divorced. I know both his sons, good men. His ex-wife is like a principal or something within the school system where he's the head maintenance guy. He avoids her, which is easy because there are fourteen schools across many miles.

Daniel is concerned about his heart. I watched him struggle tonight and I share his worry. He will be going down for a while as they put stents in him.

I'm old enough to be his dad, but we are friends straight across the board, and I love the guy.

So, thanks god, I'm glad to be alive, and to just be me...

Clinging to the awning of my porch this afternoon, I saw the tree where Steph's grand-daughters and I played, a few years back. We had a great Easter egg hunt down by the creek one year, I fell in love with those girls, and I'm so sad I lost them.

Life is funny how it evolves! I have so many triumphs and absolute failures under my old worn belt, that I can't count. I have no idea why I'm still alive!

But I am, and still functioning. I take care of myself and my space, nobody helps.

So, what am I going to do next? That's the common question that drives our lives!

Take a sip from my drink and try to get a word out of the guy sitting next to me, buried in his phone.

As my time here winds down, I realize that I would love to have a final gathering, where my vast family from my daughters side, meets my sister's family in Idaho.

Maybe connections and friendships could be made. I miss my family on both sides so much, as I slowly die here alone.

I am the matriarch of this wonderful convoluted family! I wish I had landed better, but I didn't. My sister Lorelle has made a wonderful home for her family at the base of the Grand Tetons in Idaho.

The children that have spun from my lone daughter, have spread far and wide. The child count is fourteen, as far as I know, and I have no idea how many great grand-children I have.

We can land two ways! Complete whole and happy, or separate lonely and lost.

I've been staring at that picture of my older brother, in that locked down nursing home, in the middle of California, seven or eight years ago.

It had been decades since I'd seen him, but I found him, then I road tripped straight there from Idaho one Summer.

He was living on a cot in the back of that home. I had to sign in out front and they wanted to know my relationship to him. Not knowing what was going on, I said friend.

I sat on his cot next to him, and god I wish I had recorded our talk. All I have left from that now is the connection. He knew who I was, his blood, his brother.

Back in Idaho I tried to bring him into our Valley, and failed. In the process, we both lost.

I lost Steph and my sisters family, he lost his life.