Virginia

I wish I had a picture of Virginia, but I am not sure that I could take her picture and be able to explain to her why I needed it. Virginia is John Pike's friend. And it was not long after we met John Pike that we met Virginia. For those of you who didn't read my essay on John Pike, the meanest man alive, he is the man that I blogged about here. John Pike has helped us for the last ten years with our place, mowing our tree fields, maintaining what farm equipment we have, and providing us with much entertainment and advice.

When we first met John Pike, he lived in a trailer rented from Virginia, on her property. She lived in the trailer next door and I think the rent was actually companionship, handyman stuff and whatever, like someone to eat meals she cooked or who knows. He was probably fifteen years her junior. She's close to eighty now, and lost some weight recently and she still looks fabulous in a pair of blue jeans. If you ask her she will tell you she is just a tough old farm wife (she lost her husband maybe twenty years ago and her husband was a good friend of John Pike's).

Over the years we would occasionally visit with them on a summer evening. We would sit in chairs in Virginia's front yard and Virginia and John Pike would tell us all about the "dummy" who drove by. Of course, they weren't all "dummies" and we were way out in the country, so there weren't many people who drove by. One time we took John Pike and Virginia over to our neighbors for a party. John Pike drove Virginia's car. The party was just around the corner but my John wouldn't be able to walk and neither would Virginia. On the way over John Pike spied a couple of young people on a bridge near us where young people hang out. This young man owed John some money for a lawn mower and so John Pike stopped the car and got out and proceeded to discuss the kid up. Virginia had her window rolled down and several times encouraged John to push the young man off the bridge. My husband and I were trapped in the back seat, fearing for our lives. I am not sure what I was more concerned about, a fight breaking out between John Pike, this man and Virginia, or somebody associating us with these two, like we were that tough. I am pretty sure she could have people beat up if she wanted.

So John Pike is going to die. He's been diagnosed with an aggressive tumor in his hip, spread from the cancer that was in his bladder. He refused one of the options for treatment that they offered him and tomorrow I will discuss that with his brother.

John now lives in an old farmhouse that he rents from a decent family, and Virginia is in assisted living in a little town called Wanamingo. Virginia has been staying with John to help him. He's on some complicated medication, and heavy duty pain killers. I am home this week so they have been calling me, and I can tell that Virginia is worried about him, wants his family to step up and help, and after spending two days with them I can see that she is not the one to do it. She's getting too old and she knows it. So she has been calling me, and today I spent the morning with them at the Doctor's office and I asked the questions that she could not ask, like social services, and hospice care and the future. The doctor stepped right in. Told John to set his pride aside and let these women help him. It was great. So I called his younger brother, who is made of the same cloth, and told them that we had to have a meeting at John's, with Virginia. I have some health care directive questions, and we will discuss hospice and John's dog. I am so glad that they called me and that I could help them with this. I have so much respect for Virginia and her practical, tough minded approach to this; and her devotion to her friend.