When I arrived in Albuquerque, on time, I picked up my Hertz car with no hassle, even though, I have a Hong Kong Drivers license and did not take any of the insurance. I headed for Cortez via the interstate and a four lane highway, Route 550, running through some very desolate country. I couldn’t see much anyway in the darkness. I stopped once for a bottle of soda and my favorite snack, Corn Nuts. Every gas station on U.S. highways seems to have a small grocery store and fast food outlet, Subway being the most prevalent. Having recently visited Myanmar where the major highways are one and one-half lanes wide and often create the feeling of riding on a rocky dirt road, where many of the gas stations use hand pumped gas and where you eat the local fast food at your own risk, I marveled at the conveniences I had available in the middle of the night on a little traveled highway in Northwest New Mexico.
The Ugly
As I wended my way to Cortez, I was stopped twice by police. Once, at a New Mexico State Police sobriety checkpoint. The officer who talked to me was very nice and after looking at my Hong Kong Driver’s License, mentioned that he had been in Hong Kong on R and R during the Vietnam War. Later in Shiprock, New Mexico, I was pulled over by a very young Navaho Nation police officer. After the usual “amenities,” he said I hadn’t dimmed my brights fast enough. I was shocked. I’ve been driving for 48 years and have never been stopped for not dimming my brights quickly enough - this on a four lane divided highway in town. I did my “yes, officer, no officer, no resistance” routine and drove off in wonderment. Later I speculated that he didn’t really stop me for keeping my lights bright but rather because it was near or after midnight on December 30, I had Texas plates on the car and he may have suspected that my slow reaction time was caused by booze not fatigue. It also reminded me of the severity of the drinking and driving problem in the U.S. and especially on Indian reservations where alcoholism may be the most prevalent disease.
The Beautiful
I eventually made it to Mary Ann’s house outside of Cortez. My son was worried because I was an hour late. Aside from being stopped twice, I had also gotten lost in Farmington when I took a wrong turn and drove miles out of my way. That’s what I get for not carrying a map. Mary Ann was in bad shape but there was a volunteer from the local Hospice Foundation Branch sitting by Mary Ann’s bed holding her hand. The hospice movement is dedicated to helping people die with dignity, preferably in their own homes. The people involved with Montezuma County Hospice in Cortez were wonderful and Michael has said, numerous times that he doesn’t know what he would have done without them. All my interactions with them were positive.
When Mary Ann died the next day at 11:00 A.M., the head nurse from Hospice showed up immediately, took care of the death certificate necessities, called the funeral home, shamed the bed and equipment rental people into coming out that day, New Year’s Eve, to reclaim their stuff and helped us air out Mary Ann’s bedroom, and turn the sickroom back into a bedroom. They allow both the dying person and their loved ones to deal with the dying experience instead of worrying about ultimately unimportant details and they take the pressure off the primary care-givers to shoulder the whole load by having volunteers there 24/7 in the final days.
Michael and I decided to drive rather than fly to Menomonie, Wisconsin, where Mary Ann grew up and where she wanted to be buried. The funeral home in Menomonie agreed to wait until Saturday for the memorial service. I’ll have more to say about funerals in America, later, but one of the benefits of using them is they take care of all the details — at a price, of course. We would have had to move much faster and would have had far less time to grieve and prepare ourselves for the memorial service if we hadn’t used their services. We chose to drive because flying would have been obscenely expensive, even from Albuquerque. This way Michael and I could spend a lot of time together and we would have transportation when we got to Menomonie. I hadn’t driven across the middle of the U.S. in 40 years. In fact, the last time was with Mary Ann when we visited her family in the mid 60’s. We were both rather excited about the prospects. The first day, Monday, January 3, we drove through most of Southern and Eastern Colorado from Cortez to Fort Morgan. We were worried about getting through Wolf Creek Pass, at 10,850 feet, but it proved to be no problem and the rest of the drive that day was relaxing and beautiful, except perhaps getting around Denver during the tail end of rush hour.
(Continued)