PIVOTING FROM BLUE
CHAPTER IMAGES - Work In Progress - Please read the book to understand the meaning of these images.
1 - The Fucking Scooter Made It
2 - Building The Perfect Storm - No Photographs
3 - The Art of Dying
4 - Let “The Year” Begin!
5 - Subconscious Preparation
6 - Luck Be The Lady Blue
When life got difficult, I tried to find anything to keep busy. Like fix the dog with a bandaid.
Most of the time, I just felt like playing the recorder, like the kid to the right.
Whoever created that meme nailed it.
7 - Male Menopause Is Real & Insane
8 - The Dying Parent Thing
9 - God & The Art of Walking
10 - April Showers
Jennifer picked this photograph of us from our senior year. This was taken in New Hampshire. One of the three loves of my life and thank God for all three. They are amazing people.
11 - Thank You, Lordy!
12 - Panic & The Courts of Heaven
13 - The Blooms of May - No Photographs
14 - Hello Hospice!
15 - June 26, 2025
These photos are of the sunset I saw being put together by God as my vision slowly came back while sitting on the porch. My vision and hearing had gone panoramic. It came back dot by dot of extreme color. It was beautiful. Those same colors would also appear in Annie’s sunrise.
16 - The Grand Exit - No Photographs
17 - Bob Ross Was God’s Cousin
18 - Take Me Home, Please
19 - Death
October/November in Wisconsin offered a rare opportunity to see the northern lights while standing next to Lake Michigan. It was humbling to see such power and beauty. It’s also the time that I found 35 years of my life in a box. Trisha had a big garden and loved to sing. Some people would tell her to stop, because she was too loud and would wake up Nick. He was upstairs with a radio on next to his ear.
20 - Rum Punch, Anyone?
21 - Painting With A Keyboard - No Photographs
22 - The Logistics Of Dying
23 - Autumn
Autumn was a deep period of reflection and acceptance of what had happened, and I believe I made peace with it. I had to because the final storm was approaching and I had to know I had the strength to leave the past behind, and face the future head on.
To see Michael Mauney’s photographs, which are legendary, please visit his website: https://michaelmauney.com
Aside from a picture of Michael with the scooter that morning, I took a photo of what looked like a coffin, then a ladder going into empty water, and then my plane that would me carry back to something, maybe nothing.
There was something magical about that sunrise the day after the Rum Punch. It was healing, and then I found the heart in the wet sand that lasted all night.
24 - Flight of the Bumblebee
25 - The Golden Light
26 - His Final Gift
This is what singing in WI most nights for Trisha and Nick was like. Trisha’s song books were printed in large print so it would be easier for her to follow along. It was a magical time in a magical home.
Far right is the Christmas tree Nancy and I planted for Nick and Trisha outside their den window when they said they wanted to stay for the holidays. Trisha helped with the lights and it was beautiful at night.
It took weeks for Nick to build up the confidence to use his electric wheelchair, but he kept practicing inside. Then, on December 22, he went for his last walk with Trisha because she wanted to, and so did he. He would pass away on January 14. But he took that walk.
27 - Operation: Free Mom
It was time for Trisha to start living again, and being happy. The chair to the right is where he sat, and where she said goodbye. That’s all she needed, to see it and touch it. The mark where his head would rest wasn’t there before he died.
Since the electric wheelchair was scary for Nick, Trisha and I thought that, if she got good at it, Nick might give it a try. So we did. This was before his final walk with her but definitely a reason for Operation: Free Mom.
28 - Six Days Go Fast
Every day she works out, plays brain games, takes cooking classes, dances, sings, has meals with her friends, putts on the putting green, serves meals to everyone at The Siera, and has happy hour every Friday. She lives in the present moment and is happy.
The drawing to the right is the position I held for both storms. Michael was between the broken seat and the helm. He would have looked like a circle if I drew him from the top view and that would be dumb looking. My art is bad enough.
The other drawing is of the upside down V that we entered for the first storm.
After Nick was placed in hospice care in June, Bowen got the flu at camp. When I arrived he was asleep on the front lawn of the infirmary with two other boys. We had to camp out in a hotel in Asheville for three days until he was well enough to drive home. Add that to the stress level of June.
The photo to the immediate right is of the oil canisters that smashed their way into the port side air duct, through its vent. They had launched from the starboard shelf in the second photo to the other side of the boat. We were amazed none of them hit the window, but fell six inches short. We were lucky as hell. The deck shoes that gripped the ladder when I almost went overboard.
Where’s Trisha Now? She’s crushing it!
To the left is Annie’s sunrise. To the right is the lizard that jumped on my shoulder as I was entering Nick’s “celebration of life”, an indicator of how that day was going to unfold. Harper got it off before I put on my blazer.
Nick drew these for Nancy and me when he was in the hospitals. Nick and I obviously share the same artistic abilities - bad but accurate.
Trisha and Terri. Terri is her primary caregiver. They have a lot of fun together. Trisha never forgot Terri during those awful months in Florida and remembered her the second she saw her again during Operation: Free Mom.
The photo to the right was taken hours before my psychological death occurred. Looking back, I believe my mind was saying goodbye one last time and preparing itself for whatever storm was coming next, or nothing at all.
Maybe that’s why we stayed at that beach longer than we ever have. Some part of my mind didn’t want to leave.
Christmas morning they would have stockings and gifts for each other. Trisha loved her new alligator socks and the mug with her and Terri, and a picture of them singing in their home in Wisconsin. The last photo is haunting; waiting on the fire department to pick Nick up.
This is one of the two photos Nick kept on his shelf, and that were in his box. Trisha and Skip. He knew I would always protect her, no matter the cost.
After Nick died, these flowers showed up for Trisha. The only flowers in those first few days. They were from Annie, Harper and Bowen. Trisha didn’t know what they were for, but she made several new arrangements out of them.
That says it all.
Michael and Skip, six months after the event that changed their lives forever. Michael is a great man, friend, husband, and father. I’m proud to know him and I’m glad we went through this together.
Hindsight, I wish I had taken my glasses off to see the eyes now. They’re different, and people tell me that all the time. And somehow, following the psychological death, my eye color changed from brown to green. That’s supposed to be impossible without trauma. And no, I don’t wear contacts.
It was very helpful to have Harper and Bowen with me when I first saw Blue again. I was open with them about what happened to us, to me. I had to be because I had no other way to apologize for any times in the past that I wasn’t the best father I could be.