Bronze Dinosaurs

© 2008 Walter L. Cozy. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 5/13/2008

ISBN: 978-1-4343-7894-1 (sc)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my children, Jerome and Amber, because it may help them get to know me better. I was raising them and geared to providing for them in earlier years. We later lived apart and they have been told things which aren’t true. This may help them understand. They can choose to read it when they are ready.

I dedicate it to my child Hunter. I can share who I am and who I was before he knew me. The sharing can occur when he is older and better able to understand even if I am dead.

I am writing this so these memories can be released by my mind without fear of losing them. I can let the past go and embrace any future I might have. This will allow me to breathe deeply and relax.

I am writing to America to remember the past, build on it in a positive manner, and live better because of the past.

To Ragan, who loves me like my father did. To let her know she is right…She is my best friend.

To my Father…I love you always… I am proud of you. Thanks for your love, guidance, work ethic, and the nurturing spirit you left with me.

To Christ…for his ransom sacrifice.

Contents

Chapter 1: Who’s There?

Chapter 2: Cancer

Chapter 3: Mississippi in the ‘60’s

Chapter 4: Post Surgery

Chapter 5: Land of Opportunity

Chapter 6: (Post Surgery II)

Chapter 7: School

Chapter 8: Poor to Professional

Chapter 9: Divorce

Chapter 10: The Moose IS Loosed

Chapter 11: Hell hath no fury…

Chapter 12: Second Time Around

Chapter 13: Metamorphosis

Chapter 1: Who’s There?

Death is knocking at my door. Today is the day I will remember the rest of my soon to be short life.

This Friday afternoon starts out as the typical end of a typical workweek, but this one changes everything. I work Saturdays only as required by engineering production schedules or as needed as determined by me based on workload. I don’t need to work this weekend so it’s out of here at 4:30. Time to get out of the office and pick up my daughter, Amber, from her mother’s apartment. Amber is eight years old and has a wide grin with pretty eyes and dark coarse hair. She is the only daughter I will ever have and I love her because she is my child, because she is my youngest child, and because she is, well…Amber. This is the person that has me wrapped around her finger. We have a special relationship. I have played a major role in raising both my children. Teaching them, encouraging them, nurturing them and disciplining them when needed. Just as my father did for me. I am the one who makes arrangements at work when I need to pick them up from daycare or practice or attend school functions. I have continued the monthly lunch at school with Amber and her classmates that I started with Jerome when he was in grade school. She was a happy baby. Easy to laugh and playful, with a bright smile. Amber’s mother and I decided we wanted to try for a girl when our son Jerome was four and we were in the sixth year of our marriage. I thanked Amber’s mother, Kris once for making Amber a happy baby. Kris is partially responsible for Amber’s happy outlook because of the way she played with her as a baby. I enjoyed watching Kris playing with Amber and making her laugh.

A few months ago I did one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I left Amber in her mother’s new apartment. Amber wasn’t going to spend the night at our home. She was taken to a new home where I did not live. Leaving her there was more difficult than I can express, it brings tears to my eye this day just as it did that evening. But it was out of my hands. Being with our intact family would have been better, but that is no longer an option. So, I leave her a small picture of me in a small gold colored frame on her white chest of drawers. The rest of the white bedroom set we picked out for her, after it was time to leave the crib behind, is also in her new room. The slender tall spindle bedposts and chest of drawers look bare without the colorful painted decorations on the walls in her room at home. Little flowery decorations which Kris painted using a small brush, stencils, and paint. Orange, blue, red, yellow and the green I never liked. Amber’s bedroom at home is empty but the painted balloons & decorations are still there.

Not playing tennis tonight so I can spend the evening with Amber. I played last night and my game is in good shape. I’ve won many tennis tournaments in singles, which is my preferred format. I’ve played mixed doubles with several female partners and have been successful. I have accomplished one of my goals of winning the city tournament in mixed doubles. Mixed doubles is a fun format because it’s more relaxed and I get to play with ladies who are usually well toned and confident enough to play with men. The men are usually very competitive but even tempered because ladies don’t like to play with guys who aren’t and that makes it more fun for everyone. Mixed doubles is also more social. When we aren’t in the middle of a point it’s not unusual to dialogue with spouses, spectators and our opponents. Singles on the other hand is my real forte’. There are three kinds of singles for me. The first kind I play with people I like who are very competitive. This type of singles is the most fun because we laugh and joke between points but play very hard and try to beat each other. The second type of singles is strictly competitive and played whether I like my opponent or not, usually tournaments or team matches. Conversation may take place during changeovers but we both know why we are there…winning is the objective. Yes, playing well is most important but winning is the objective. The third type is played to improve shots and work on my game. It’s less structured and we play as well as practice. This type is played with someone whose skill might be better, or equal, or less than mine. It’s important to play better people in order to get better. It’s important to play with people of equal ability to improve consistency and the mental game. It’s important to play with someone who might not be as good in order to help them improve just as better players help me improve, and to have fun and practice. Two of my remaining goals are to win the city tournament in singles and men’s doubles. I’ve come in second in recent years in each of these but I am not satisfied. With continued shot improvement, understanding and mastering the mental game, improving my ability to dictate the pace, improving my serve and volley, practice, and finesse, these titles will come. I have graduated from the beginner to the intermediate level in singles, doubles, and mixed doubles. It’s fair to say I am at the upper part of the A level but not ready for the ‘open’ category. The usual distinction between A and open is that in addition to being outstanding athletes, open players have played a very long time, usually beginning before puberty, received extended instruction, generally played tennis in college and have tremendous experience. Top A players are outstanding athletes, that may have the talent to play open but started later, or concentrated on other sports or other priorities.

I played singles on Tuesday with a good friend that I play and practice with. I played doubles on Thursday night but had to go jogging afterward because I didn’t get a good workout. Conditioning is very important when playing singles on concrete or asphalt courts in temperatures above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. My men’s tennis team just won at the state level which qualified us to go to the Regionals in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I am primarily a singles player and must maintain my physical edge for Chattanooga and Nationals after that if we are fortunate enough to win at Regionals. I played 5 singles matches in two and a half days in 90-105 degree temperatures. I was fortunate to help my team by winning all of my matches. Practice, physical and mental toughness, skill, and conditioning paid off. Not only do I depend on my mental game and skill but consider the heat an ally in a hot, tough match. I am prepared to stay on the court as long as it takes to win. I come to the court well prepared, because if I lose I want it to be because my opponent is better than I am. And if he is better I will say that is the reason and congratulate him. No other reason will sit well with me.

After picking Amber up and driving home I go into my bedroom and change from my shirt and tie. This is the room that is wallpapered on the far wall. The wallpaper has a white almost light silver background with medium blue velvety leaves. I picked it out myself when Kris was in the hospital after delivering Amber. No green on this wall. When the labor pains came eight years ago around 3 A.M. we called the neighbor to keep our son Jerome, and I drove Kris to the hospital. I participated in the delivery just as I had done the first time. The difference was that after I cut the umbilical cord, after the suctioning of the baby’s airways and the usual slap on the baby’s bottom, after cleaning and wrapping her up the doctor just handed her to me and told me to take her to the nursery. I felt like ‘are you kidding?’ You want me to take this new life up the stairs to the nursery, just like that? What if I trip, what if…but then I stopped worrying, held her in my hands and started walking. I don’t think I held her against me because I was afraid of hurting her. But I carried Amber Elizabeth straight up to the nursery. That was our first trip together. Kris and I named her Amber Elizabeth because Kris and I both liked Amber and I suggested we give Amber Kris’ mother’s middle name because I loved and respected her, and it was a cool name. After the hospital stay we brought Amber home to her room which was previously Jerome’s room. Jerome had decided with the baby coming he would take the other bedroom which may have been a little smaller but he made the choice. So we brought Amber home to the baby’s room with the stenciled trimmed walls of orange, blue, red, yellow and green balloons and flowers.

The white, silver, and blue wallpaper in my bedroom was a surprise for Kris when she came home after delivering Amber. I had planned and paid two ladies to wallpaper this accent wall while Kris was in the hospital. Kris was very surprised and liked it as much as I did. But now the wallpaper is not what I see when I am in this room. What I see is the bed that Kris and I picked out together, the furniture, the bedding. But what I mostly see when I am in this room is the ceiling. I have spent some time looking at it. Well, not really looking at it, but looking toward it when I am alone in bed. I look toward it but I don’t think I really see it because my mind is elsewhere, but still it is what my eyes focus on when I lay in bed. Very often the last thing I think about at night before I go to sleep and the first thing I think about when I open my eyes is Kris.

But that is over now. The divorce was final June 10th and it’s now July 22nd. Tomorrow is Kris’ birthday. Funny, in all the years we have been together, I never forgot a birthday, anniversary, or special occasion. Special occasions aren’t so special now. Last Christmas was the end of all that. The scene is still fresh in my mind…especially the words we exchanged after she decided to move out. I said to Kris, Leaving is the wrong thing to do. I love you and I don’t want you to go. She replied, I love you…but I’ve got to go! I said, If you go, there is no guarantee you can come back. She replied, that’s a chance I’ve gotta’ take. She continued, If you don’t believe me, then I don’t want to live with you. I replied, Well, if I’ve gotta’ believe a lie for you to live with me, you can pack your shit. And she did.

But it’s Friday evening now and time for Amber and me. After changing my clothes I am reading and using the bathroom and get a little light headed. I finish and decide to go into the bedroom. Then I find myself getting up from the bedroom floor beside the bed. I’m leaning on the side of the bed when I get lightheaded again. What just happened? I think I lost a moment of consciousness. I call Amber into the bedroom from the living room, lean on her shoulder to get to the bed and say, Call your mother.

When Kris arrives she asks what’s wrong and I explain what happened as best I can. I think I’m still lightheaded and she decides to take me to the hospital. Kris calls the next door neighbor Becky to keep Amber. I didn’t object because it was probably better for Amber so she wouldn’t have to wait long hours in the hospital but I wasn’t happy about Becky being involved. Particularly after she and her husband had intended to help Kris move out in February. That had been their plan until I told Kris they were not going to come into my home and move anything out. There was no reason for either of them to be involved. Kris and I had agreed on who was gonna’ get what. We had written out a list of everything…furniture, appliances, decorations, vehicles, etc. We were not fighting about it. Why would any objective person get involved to come into someone’s home to move things when they knew nothing about the reasons? Oh, I’m sure they had heard Kris’ version but aren’t there at least two sides of a story? Perhaps this is an area where I had faltered…I had not shared the problems we were having with anyone except the marriage counselor. I had considered talking to Kris’ mother to ask her to talk with Kris but decided against it. Maybe her mother could give her some perspective, but Kris is an adult and responsible for her own actions and decisions. I’m a private person and kept things to myself. Maybe that wasn’t the best course but this was new for me and I was doing what I thought was best. I had learned something important in the last year. I had learned that a belief I had was wrong. See, I thought that if I did my best, if I avoided the pitfalls I had seen destroy so many marriages that our marriage would be fine. I thought if I treated my wife well, was true to our wedding vows, and provided for my family that we would be married forever. But I learned there are things that regardless of what we believe or do, that the outcome may be out of our hands.

One of many lessons life has taught me. I never thought I would be divorced. Never. Never. Becky should understand its o.k. to support a friend but staying out of married people’s business is the best thing to do. Surely she had gone through breaking up in her three previous marriages. And there had probably been some outside influences in there somewhere. Why would she or her husband get involved like that?

Of course it’s Friday night at the hospital too. So the staff is reduced and going to the emergency room is not an expeditious affair. I recall the last time I was here in the emergency room. My son Jerome and I had been working in the yard. I needed an ax to cut a root and asked him to hand it to me. Jerome held the handle and swung the business end toward me, sharp side down. I reached for the handle and when I grabbed it a sliver of the wood went into my thumb beneath the nail. It broke off in the thumb beneath the nail and no part of it was sticking out. It hurt. Jerome and I were the only ones home so I told him to just stay home until Kris arrived and drove myself to this hospital. After filing out forms and waiting I finally got to see the doctor. The doctor’s solution was to deaden the finger by sticking a needle into the thumb beside the wood so he could anesthesize the area and remove the wood. Seemed like a decent plan until he started to insert the needle and I was reminded why sticking wood beneath fingernails is an internationally recognized form or torture. I quickly and loudly asked him to stop and reminded him of that fact. What the hell was he thinking? We decided to stick the needle in the thumb but not underneath the fingernail. This worked much better.

Finally, after filing out forms and more forms and waiting and more waiting, Kris and I go in to see a doctor. Answering the usual questions for the doctor results in getting nowhere but does bring out where and what happened. I don’t remember exactly why the first doctor called in a specialist; maybe it was the fact that this started while I was using the bathroom. I don’t know how long before Dr. Beardon arrived but he introduced himself and went through what happened again. He’s a bit puzzled because I am a healthy 35 year old man in good physical condition, who does not smoke and only drink occasionally, with no history of high blood pressure. After talking more he decides to go straight to the horse’s mouth, or in this case the horse’s other end, to do an examination. The room is large and quiet and white and clear. You know how sometimes for whatever reason you can see things clearer? Like looking down a highway and seeing the heat waves moving far away? How sometimes in the midday sun there seems to be water on the highway but it’s never there when you get to where you thought it was? But when you are looking at the heat waves or the water on the highway you can see farther and see other things like the grass or trees or cars better than usual? Maybe it is the kind of light in the room, I don’t know but I can see the room and everything in it clearer. I don’t recall a nurse being there but I’m sure Dr. Beardon wouldn’t ‘seek out strange new worlds’ or ‘go where no man had gone before’ without some help.

This is my first contact with a gastroenterologist such as Dr. Beardon but he had seen me before. He is a soft-spoken man with dark hair and a few strands of gray. He works out and plays racket ball at the Racquet club where I usually play tennis. Small world. Dr. Beardon administers the appropriate drugs to float me into unconsciousness and performs a lower G.I. He uses a scope to enter the rectum and investigate my intestines and stomach. Later when I am conscious he informs Kris and me of the results of the examination. He finds evidence of blood in my system and asked me if I had noticed it myself. Thinking back my answer is no, I don’t recall any blood. I relate that I have had diarrhea for a few days. This leads to an explanation by Dr. Beardon that after blood passes through the gastrointestinal system that it actually turns black. I quickly realize what I thought was a simple case of diarrhea has actually been more than that. When I was eliminating it was blood passing through my system and my light-headedness was due to anemia or weakness caused by the loss of blood. Dr. Beardon goes on to explain that he found what he believes to be lieomyosarcoma. What? He has found what he believes to be cancer in my stomach. Further, that I also have an ulcer which is the source of the bleeding. Lucky for me that I had the bleeding ulcer, which led to loss of blood and anemia, which led to me passing out. There were no other signs of illness so without the ulcer I might have gone much longer without any outward signs and thus no detection. Wow, never heard anyone consider having a bleeding ulcer a lucky break but I am glad for mine.

Cancer. Cancer? Me? I’m in the prime of my life, great physical condition,