Walking for a cure and my father

“It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.” 

― Rose Kennedy

LEWISTON — We took a long walk for a good cause on a chilly Sunday morning.

A couple of hundred people tagged along to raise money for “The Long Goodbye,” also know as Alzheimer’s — the devastating disease of the brain.

It is the scourge of the elderly and the bastard killed my father. For me, this murderer is the enemy of the state and needs to be put down with a powerful drug. The medical community has declared war on this SOB, but so far, there is no cure or a way to slow its progression despite all the research.

For four years, I was helpless as Albert John Blasi’s mind faded away. He raised four good kids, and was a compassionate teacher and coach. He succumbed to Alzheimer's on on Nov. 8, 2014. Those last hours of his life were enough to trigger depression in all of us.

So my wife and I walked through New Auburn and along the the Androscoggin River as a chilly autumn wind gave us a head’s-up that winter would be making a return engagement in the Pine Tree State. We walked with people who either lost a loved one to the disease or were in the midst of taking care of a stricken family member.

There’s not much you can do when Alzheimer’s targets a loved one. You experience the horrible pain as a loved one slowly disappears into the night. There is no cure for this malevolent killer, which robs victims of their cherished memories.

Alzheimer’s, like every killer disease, is simply cruel. I watched my father struggle to remember or speak and eventually he forgot how to eat — and there is not damn thing I could do except watch him die.

So we walked, talked and traded memories of my father during our three-mile trek. Terri and I had insightful conversations about Big Al. I thought him with each step I took and found the grief still lingers and impossible to shake.

We donated money, listen to people speak about loved ones battling the disease and then followed the course mapped out by dedicated volunteers. Donors were given flower pinwheels and were planted in the park.

But instead of being consumed by depression, we decided to take active steps to do something — anything — about this mind robber.

Sometimes, you think all the fundraising and goodwill are just futile attempts to stamp out the disease and make us feel good. But once you get involved, you feel like you are taking evasive action and no longer a bystander watching the suffering.

Participating in fundraising events might help families avoid this long ordeal, but time is of the essence for all those slipping away.

So open your wallets, take a long walk with caring people and go the distance for a cure for Alzheimer’s. Being involved is one way to battle grief, helplessness and an opportunity to eliminate this disease.

Weather not a garden survives

"The trouble with weather forecasting is that it's right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often for us to rely on it."  

— Patrick Young

AUBURN, Maine — Perhaps I should change the dateline of my blog to Seattle or Miami.

Maine is quickly becoming a rain forest or an Everglades. Soon, crocodiles and discarded pythons will roam Maine's streams and threaten the state's wildlife. Bugs will grow larger and more annoying, and sand traps will become quicksand as golf courses turn into raging rapids.

The rest of the nation is bone dry, and yet my yard resembles a rice patty or the Mekong Delta in Vietnam. I mowed my lawn, or should I say a wetlands where standing water is now home to one of the most  pathetic creatures in the world — the disease-carrying mosquito.

I never thought Maine had a monsoon season. Pine Tree inhabitants are waterlogged and the tips of their fingers look like prunes. The air is disgustingly humid and everybody feels like taking a shower every five minutes, and if you don't bath in this heat stay far away from me.

People in the Northeast are looking pale because the sun is shrouded by thick, water-soaked clouds. My Italian tan continues to fade away in the misty fog that blankets most of Maine.

And every night, when devastating thunderstorms roll around, I watch helplessly as buckets of water fall from the sky and inundate my garden, which is fast becoming a swamp.

For Maine, this is the seventh wettest June on record. For the state's sweaty and clammy residents, we are all playing cat and mouse with the weather as we try to get yard work done in between each soaking.

A Bermuda high is to blame for making life miserable in this part of the world. This pain-in-the-ass weather system has parked its rump off the East Coast, sucking up tropical weather  from the South that continues to drench New England. But in the Southwest, Americans are cooking eggs and cookies on scorched sidewalks in triple-digit temperatures. 

There are two hideous weather extremes at work in this great nation. Conspiracy freaks could have a field day with these screwy weather patterns. Ricky Nelson would have to change the lyrics to his "Garden Party" medley if he was caught in this weeklong downpour.

There is no question the lack of sun and torrential rain has stunted my garden's growth. Last year, I needed a wheelbarrow to bring all those succulent vegetables into the house each day. If our gardens don't see the light of day, then I am afraid this year's growing season is a washout.

But any farmer or gardener knows, we are all at the whim of nature, and it doesn't give a damn about any of us.

And that explains why growing vegetables will always remain a difficult challenge to those who work with soil and get their hands dirty every summer. 

Around the horn

FROZEN FALLS: Snow covers the rocks around the Androscoggin Falls.

AUBURN, Maine - If Congress decides to pull the plug on the federal government this Friday, I was hoping all senators and representatives would also go without a paycheck and give their constituents a respite from long-winded speeches and empty promises.

But I found out that the Keystone Cops (Congress) are deemed essential personnel and will still be cut a check each week.

The only good news about keeping our foolish and fearless leaders on the payroll is that it will prevent triggering sobbing episodes from Speaker of the House John Boehner, who could also shed tears during hilarious episodes of the "Three Stooges."

After four years of unemployment, an economy that continues to run on empty, and conflicts galore, which we can't keep our dirty paws off of, Congress will still get paid even though these guys have done will little to right this sinking ship.

If Boehner wants throw open the spigots, he should take a look at all the foreclosed homes, boarded-up businesses and the rising gas and food prices as the American middle class evaporates right in front of his water-filled eyes.

Now that is something cry about.

Here at home

Over the last two days, central Maine took another whooping from Mother Nature. Auburn received 12 inches of snow and the cold winds continue to howl and frustrate even the most hardy Mainers, who want to see Old Man Winter go away.

SNOWBOUND: Anthony lurks behind this mountain of snow.

For snowmobiliers and skiers, another blanket of snow is just what winter lovers ordered after nearly two weeks of sun and frigid temperatures.

For my son, it was an opportunity to job shadow members of the Lost Valley ski patrol team on Saturday after Old Man Winter laid down a fresh blanket of snow. Should he decide to pursue becoming a member of the ski team next season, he will have to take an EMT (Emergency Medical Training) this summer.

So far he is sold on the idea.

Happy trails to you

For the past two weeks, all was quiet in western Maine. That lull coaxed us into believing the walkways around the Androscoggin River were free of ice.

SNOWY OUTLOOK: Anthony checks out the winter scene.

But one look around and we discovered the a few days of warm weather and a stronger sun could not melt away the ice that covered the walkways.

The Androscoggin River walkway is about a mile around and then there is the falls, which is sort of like a mini Niagara Falls. The falls during the spring is something to behold. When the snow melts and April showers move in, the falls roar and can be quite impressive.

Before heading on the pedestrian trail, take a small hike up near the falls and stand on the platform and hear the roar of the falls and feel its fine mist

The walk will take you past Festival and Bonney parks where you will cross the river over a trestle bridge, which gives an eye-opening view of the river. After crossing, you can head over to Railroad Park and head back to the bridge that separates Lewiston and Auburn.

All we could do is admire the slow-running falls and we eventually walked back to the car and head to the gym.

And after the last snowstorm and an ice storm on deck for Monday, we will have to wait until the end of march to take a spin around the Androscoggin.