I’d love to think that you’d all be familiar with The Cure and their song about Friday’s, but I know better. Sure there might be lots of room for interpretation here but I’ll give you my Billy spin. And I’ll even treat you to a great acoustic version on YouTube. It’ll add to your read time but will be worth the detour.
I don’t care if Monday’s blue
Tuesday’s grey and Wednesday too
Thursday I don’t care about you
It’s Friday, I’m in love
Monday you can fall apart
Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart
Thursday doesn’t even start
It’s Friday I’m in love
Saturday, wait
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday, never hesitate…
I don’t care if Mondays black
Tuesday, Wednesday – heart attack
Thursday, never looking back
It’s Friday, I’m in love
Monday, you can hold your head
Tuesday, Wednesday stay in bed
Or Thursday – watch the walls instead
It’s Friday, I’m in love
Saturday, wait
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday, never hesitate…
Dressed up to the eyes
It’s a wonderful surprise
To see your shoes and your spirits rise
Throwing out your frown
And just smiling at the sound
And as sleek as a shriek
Spinning round and round
Always take a big bite
It’s such a gorgeous sight
To see you eat in the middle of the night
You can never get enough
Enough of this stuff
It’s Friday, I’m in love
I don’t care if Monday’s blue
Tuesday’s grey and Wednesday too
Thursday I don’t care about you
It’s Friday, I’m in love
Monday you can fall apart
Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart
Thursday doesn’t even start
It’s Friday I’m in love.
Here’s how Billy’s perfect Friday played out. He’d come out to the kitchen, sit down on that chair and get his shoes on. Go out to the drive way before 5 a.m. to get the paper, then take that orange bag and stuff it under the chair cushion until he needed it for garbage collection. There would be an early snack of “pbuzzes” (Honey Nut Cheerios). It’d be a long wait but somewhere around 10 a.m. after patiently pacing for a good long time, I’d take him to Kosmo’s for a second breakfast of biscuits and gravy. There’d be more waiting but the time could be passed going to the Dollar Store to buy more “1000 flushes” than a toilet could use in a life time – but you can never have enough blue water. Or we could wander around the grocery store to buy more things to add to the never ending food pantry he has going.
Sometime in the early afternoon, we’d get “the call”. That’s what Friday’s were all about. A highlight of his week. Back before we took his keys away (still rue the day but I have to revisit alot of things here as time goes on), the routine would be more to his liking. He’d go down to the church gym…do 100 laps the length of the basketball court (I’m not quite sure if that was 100 steps or one length would count as one), and that work out would be topped off by grabbing a ball and shooting four baskets. If he didn’t make all four in a row, he’d start shooting again until he made them all. Just 52 weeks ago – he could still pull this off. Then he’d be warmed up for his “job”.
His was the business of stuffing the church bulletins. I don’t know how many years he’s been doing this – but a few at least. Never particularly time efficient but certainly careful. And what it really was all about was his way of serving his church family. Something that has always marked his life – quietly, behind the scenes, not calling attention to himself.
If I wasn’t around on Friday’s the routine was even more modified as my mom would take him down to pick them up, they’d take them home and return them later in the afternoon and maybe stop for a hamburger on the way home around 4p.m. before they’d call it a day.
About two months ago things really got dicey. As they were leaving the house with a wicker tray basket that conveniently transported the few hundred folded missives…he stumbled on the steps out of the kitchen – tried catching the basket and got into a bloody mess as a result. It was so traumatizing to both he and mom that he “retired” himself. But I knew we weren’t going to give up that easily. So I’d make it a point that Friday’s were on my schedule to be with him.
His first time back on the job after the tumble toss was on the 25th of July and it was a whopper of a job. Three inserts!! What were they trying to do…stress this guy out! Force another retirement? We set everything up in one of the Sunday School classrooms. His breathing was so labored that he’d have to stop every short stack and take a break. I worked out a system that I’d stuff, he make sure that they were carefully placed and forcefully creased – ‘coz that was essential.
The next week I decided to just pick them up and take them home so he didn’t have to leave. We got them done in no time at all and I returned them with no mishaps. But seven more days and things were different. We’d been out to the doctor all morning and that was the day they’d ordered him on oxygen and we were at home waiting for it to be delivered. The church called when he was sleeping…I went to get them and brought them home. He didn’t wake up when I came home and I left it at that. Fifteen minutes later – I was done stuffing, the bulletins returned to the office just in time to be back to the house for the influx of equipment from Walgreen’s Home Care.
So here we are – another Friday. From here on out everyday will be Friday for Billy.
1eyedmonkee 