Had Dad for the week and it was interesting. It was nice to come home each evening and have our "cocktail hour". He was quite impressed that I whipped up my vodka gimlet in a real genuine cocktail shaker (shaken not stirred). He was drinking his martini variations in a plastic water glass the first night even though I have every type of hi-ball, martini or wine glass you would ever want. Too funny, but then so Dad.
The "boys" went bowling a couple of times and he raved about the fancy structured hand torture device the pro talked him into buying. Guess I can't judge too harshly, he promptly went out and shot a 210 with the damned thing. He and I went to dinner at a wonderful Italian place here and had a great time. Who is this guy who is talkative, witty, charming, etc.... I stopped for gas on the way home and he literally leaped out of the car (well he is 83) to do the "dirty work". For an independent woman, it was quite a revelation.
He accompanied the Burt man on his Saturn route to see what it was like to ride in a $45,000 Saturn. Now there's an oxymoron -$45,000 Saturn. It better have hot and cold running everything. The main result of that adventure was that Burt apparently runs on fumes and the low gas beeper works like a charm.
But he still wanders at night; reads everything he can get his hands on in the quiet times; turns her picture around so he can't see her face and talks around the edges of his pain. We all grieve in different ways. It's just hard to watch his.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Sunday, October 7, 2007
SCENES OF LIFE
Amazing how much the personal world can change in a heartbeat or the lack thereof. At 6:10 pm, Sunday, September 30, 2007 my sister Kathleen whispered those words in my ear that "Mom just passed away. Lori is with Dad and just called me". I literally dropped to the floor clutching the phone to my ear so all she heard was gasping breaths. Strange how the world kept spinning, dinner was being served and my heart kept beating. Expected? How can the unthinkable be expected. Don't let anyone kid you on that one.
Still coughing hard with the emotion that was pouring out of me I scrambled for the phone number of my next in line sister, Marcia. Burt was trying to make me wait until I calmed down a bit. As if I could. No, it was more important that she be with us in this horrible moment as soon as she could. There is a strength with the 4 sisters and I needed to close the circle. Again almost the same words and nothing over the phone line, that fragile phone line, besides my sister's heart wrenching sobs.
You move between the practical and the pain without clear direction or thought. "Need to get there, why didn't I go see her today, what should I pack, why can't I breathe." Very strange. Phone my daughter, who came within minutes and soaking her shirt as I had my husband's minutes before. How can you hurt that much and keep functioning. Driving there you keep envisioning silly things that make you gulp. It is not the great things that a person accomplishes that make you remember and hurt it's the little idiosyncrasies and memories of the two of you that you keep thinking of and know will never be repeated.
When we arrived, Lori and Dad were sitting outside in the beautiful, warm, soft darkness of the Sunday evening. We went to her room where she lay quietly and peacefully, already gone, but so much there. I adjusted her covers as I remember how she was always chilly never thinking it odd because of course she could not feel the chill. I talked to her like I always did, and kissed her warm forehead. She sometimes slept like that when you arrived and we always woke her up to tend to her company. Then she would get on a roll and the conversation would be loud, spirited and laughter-filled.
Next couple of days filled with the details of sudden demise. As complicated as a wedding and done in record time by professionals who do this every day. Strange occupation, but then absolutely necessary. Laughter ringing out at the oddest moments as we recalled something from the past or something unexpected surfaced and we did not know how to deal with it. Jokes and silliness such as my suggestion we all wear tee shirts that say "I told you I was sick". Amazing how your mind works, when the reality is too raw to deal with.
Worked on the obituary which "The Committee", as my husband dubbed us, edited. Prepared a memorial card which was approved by "The Committee" without change. Carried a notebook around to jot down thoughts that occurred if and when an eulogy was prepared. It was my way of coping.
Picking out flowers that were more beautiful than they had a right to be when they were draped about and surrounding her. Picked out her final resting place and containment. Dad noticing the spot under the oak tree as shady and nice. Thinking her white and gold bed was "too fancy", but he was overruled with assurances that his would be the plastic bag he always said he wanted. See what I mean? Hilarity amidst the pain.
The visitation day full of friends and family and much laughter and full throats. She looked so beautiful in bright red and gold. Her girls wearing the colors that she always liked us in. The day of the funeral when you couldn't breathe without hurting I observed my sisters. The oldest bending over to pick up and cuddle her grandchild much like our Mother. The middle one looking and sounding much like her and the youngest coming up with "Mom ism's" and her little one resting his cheek against her legs during the service very much like he did when we first came home that Sunday night. No words just assuring himself that "his" Mother was still there.
The eulogy that I gave borrowing Dylan Thomas and my son-in-law's words to describe his relationship with my Mother plus all the thoughts I jotted down from everyone the last few days. Focusing on the 3 words that I thought described her best: Passionate - Strength - Family. It seemed easy to speak watching the people and seeing them laugh or nod. I only faltered at the end, when I had to say the final good-by. But then the Irish Rovers singing the Unicorn song for the recessional was so fitting, you just had to smile.
Still coughing hard with the emotion that was pouring out of me I scrambled for the phone number of my next in line sister, Marcia. Burt was trying to make me wait until I calmed down a bit. As if I could. No, it was more important that she be with us in this horrible moment as soon as she could. There is a strength with the 4 sisters and I needed to close the circle. Again almost the same words and nothing over the phone line, that fragile phone line, besides my sister's heart wrenching sobs.
You move between the practical and the pain without clear direction or thought. "Need to get there, why didn't I go see her today, what should I pack, why can't I breathe." Very strange. Phone my daughter, who came within minutes and soaking her shirt as I had my husband's minutes before. How can you hurt that much and keep functioning. Driving there you keep envisioning silly things that make you gulp. It is not the great things that a person accomplishes that make you remember and hurt it's the little idiosyncrasies and memories of the two of you that you keep thinking of and know will never be repeated.
When we arrived, Lori and Dad were sitting outside in the beautiful, warm, soft darkness of the Sunday evening. We went to her room where she lay quietly and peacefully, already gone, but so much there. I adjusted her covers as I remember how she was always chilly never thinking it odd because of course she could not feel the chill. I talked to her like I always did, and kissed her warm forehead. She sometimes slept like that when you arrived and we always woke her up to tend to her company. Then she would get on a roll and the conversation would be loud, spirited and laughter-filled.
Next couple of days filled with the details of sudden demise. As complicated as a wedding and done in record time by professionals who do this every day. Strange occupation, but then absolutely necessary. Laughter ringing out at the oddest moments as we recalled something from the past or something unexpected surfaced and we did not know how to deal with it. Jokes and silliness such as my suggestion we all wear tee shirts that say "I told you I was sick". Amazing how your mind works, when the reality is too raw to deal with.
Worked on the obituary which "The Committee", as my husband dubbed us, edited. Prepared a memorial card which was approved by "The Committee" without change. Carried a notebook around to jot down thoughts that occurred if and when an eulogy was prepared. It was my way of coping.
Picking out flowers that were more beautiful than they had a right to be when they were draped about and surrounding her. Picked out her final resting place and containment. Dad noticing the spot under the oak tree as shady and nice. Thinking her white and gold bed was "too fancy", but he was overruled with assurances that his would be the plastic bag he always said he wanted. See what I mean? Hilarity amidst the pain.
The visitation day full of friends and family and much laughter and full throats. She looked so beautiful in bright red and gold. Her girls wearing the colors that she always liked us in. The day of the funeral when you couldn't breathe without hurting I observed my sisters. The oldest bending over to pick up and cuddle her grandchild much like our Mother. The middle one looking and sounding much like her and the youngest coming up with "Mom ism's" and her little one resting his cheek against her legs during the service very much like he did when we first came home that Sunday night. No words just assuring himself that "his" Mother was still there.
The eulogy that I gave borrowing Dylan Thomas and my son-in-law's words to describe his relationship with my Mother plus all the thoughts I jotted down from everyone the last few days. Focusing on the 3 words that I thought described her best: Passionate - Strength - Family. It seemed easy to speak watching the people and seeing them laugh or nod. I only faltered at the end, when I had to say the final good-by. But then the Irish Rovers singing the Unicorn song for the recessional was so fitting, you just had to smile.
Friday, September 28, 2007
2 MINUS & COUNTING
One more day waiting for the elephant to expose its presence by dropping a load. The day started with treats and a whimsically worded sign "Going Out of Business Party" set up by some wag at the office, possibly myself. Got a big laugh out of everyone. I understand the DOT gang hosted a "Last Supper" potluck. Man I love how we rise or perhaps fall with adversity. Sure beats P'ing & M'ing.
A few more clusters and rumors but hardly any hand wringing observed. Everyone is too busy. Rather like getting ready for vacation and trying to get what is totally essential completed before the proverbial ax falls.
Asked the boy what I would do in my lay off status. He mentioned a porch needing painting and someone to tote that bale and lift that barge to create the patio extension I have been wanting. Momentarily at a loss to think "I must work" in my layoff status - which of course as a State worker I am so unaccustomed. I quickly pointed out that although the labor is cheap, there is little capital available for materials. Whew-dodged that bullet.
Perhaps we should go back to the Silver Lake region to ride the wild sandy buggies. That one sublime moment when we plunge over the hill at 30 mind blowing miles per hour with hands raised, screaming our guts out sounds like a definite cure for something. As a fitting punishment I propose strapping our clueless legislators to the back bumper and letting them feel the grainy soil on their backsides until they agree that fighting like kids in a sandbox can really be painful! As Captain Picard would say "Make it so Ensign".
A few more clusters and rumors but hardly any hand wringing observed. Everyone is too busy. Rather like getting ready for vacation and trying to get what is totally essential completed before the proverbial ax falls.
Asked the boy what I would do in my lay off status. He mentioned a porch needing painting and someone to tote that bale and lift that barge to create the patio extension I have been wanting. Momentarily at a loss to think "I must work" in my layoff status - which of course as a State worker I am so unaccustomed. I quickly pointed out that although the labor is cheap, there is little capital available for materials. Whew-dodged that bullet.
Perhaps we should go back to the Silver Lake region to ride the wild sandy buggies. That one sublime moment when we plunge over the hill at 30 mind blowing miles per hour with hands raised, screaming our guts out sounds like a definite cure for something. As a fitting punishment I propose strapping our clueless legislators to the back bumper and letting them feel the grainy soil on their backsides until they agree that fighting like kids in a sandbox can really be painful! As Captain Picard would say "Make it so Ensign".
Thursday, September 27, 2007
LIKE SOME CHEESE WITH THAT WHINE??
It's official. We have been led astray by the the velvet voiced Karen from Australia and Jill from the good old U S of A. All over the "little" peninsulas due north of Traverse City. Did you know they make WINE up there? Right, we didn't either : ). But Karen our traveling vixen knew and led us to one improbable bucolic setting after another, where we discovered, much to our amazement, that Michigan grows grapes!!! And, and, and, we make nectar from these grapes!!!!
Ooh Ooh just one little taste. I promise I won't buy anymore unless it's something very extraordinary and different. Wrong. Bought from every one. And I am happy. No wait, did not buy at Shady Lane Cellars located in the "spectacular, refurbished cobblestone chicken coop". No doubt the ordure overwhelmed the odor. Did buy a totally appropriate tee shirt proclaiming WINE GODDESS for myself. Slightly less pretentious than the WINE SNOB shirt I contemplated but it just did not fit the boy.
BEL LAGO, BLACK STAR, CHATEAU de LEELANAU, CHATEAU FONTAINE,LEELANAU CELLARS and Gill's Pier & Delicatessen. Don't the names just roll off the tongue? And trust me a little taste (or six or seven) at each delectable stop did not dull this sharp tongued connoisseur (or common sewer) of the grape. I shrewdly swirled, tasted, rolled, spat (swallowed often) and chose with discrimination and class. Price was no object or at least was not objectionable. My designated driver gave up midway through the adventure forcing me to offer him tiny tastes of some wines that were "just too exciting to not try just a little". Or just taking his tastes for him. I am not high, just very happy and charming and possibly more witty than I remember.
As for Jill or Karen or Eleanor, she travels with both Burt or myself as a constant reminder of roads less traveled or newly traveled. Of the sheer lunacy of trying to read a map upside down or sideways and still getting it wrong. She gently, yet insistently reminds us of the next turn and, when we run astray, calmly proclaims "Reconfiguring" sending us in a subtle but gentle loop and putting us back on track. No recriminations, just a clear-eyed guide to the proper path. Rather an analogy for life I think. Thank goodness for the military putting all those little "spies in the sky" to help us locate ourselves.
Ooh Ooh just one little taste. I promise I won't buy anymore unless it's something very extraordinary and different. Wrong. Bought from every one. And I am happy. No wait, did not buy at Shady Lane Cellars located in the "spectacular, refurbished cobblestone chicken coop". No doubt the ordure overwhelmed the odor. Did buy a totally appropriate tee shirt proclaiming WINE GODDESS for myself. Slightly less pretentious than the WINE SNOB shirt I contemplated but it just did not fit the boy.
BEL LAGO, BLACK STAR, CHATEAU de LEELANAU, CHATEAU FONTAINE,LEELANAU CELLARS and Gill's Pier & Delicatessen. Don't the names just roll off the tongue? And trust me a little taste (or six or seven) at each delectable stop did not dull this sharp tongued connoisseur (or common sewer) of the grape. I shrewdly swirled, tasted, rolled, spat (swallowed often) and chose with discrimination and class. Price was no object or at least was not objectionable. My designated driver gave up midway through the adventure forcing me to offer him tiny tastes of some wines that were "just too exciting to not try just a little". Or just taking his tastes for him. I am not high, just very happy and charming and possibly more witty than I remember.
As for Jill or Karen or Eleanor, she travels with both Burt or myself as a constant reminder of roads less traveled or newly traveled. Of the sheer lunacy of trying to read a map upside down or sideways and still getting it wrong. She gently, yet insistently reminds us of the next turn and, when we run astray, calmly proclaims "Reconfiguring" sending us in a subtle but gentle loop and putting us back on track. No recriminations, just a clear-eyed guide to the proper path. Rather an analogy for life I think. Thank goodness for the military putting all those little "spies in the sky" to help us locate ourselves.
STATELY SCENES
3 Days and counting. Well we keep on a'keeping on with the damn elephant in the living room. Shall we blame the legislature? Engler? Big Business? Iraq? Oh wait, it's all those selfish state workers who refuse to quit working. Anyway I guess all of the above.
But no huddled masses and wringing of hands. Offers of "I can't disappoint this group of people", "how do we hold this meeting?" "Is there anything else we can do to help?" Rather humbling to realize that even in the midst of bad news and even less hope, people keep doing the right thing. Might even readjust my naturally cynical view of people. We feel the pain of our brothers and sisters in Michigan and, especially poignant, many Lansing folk have both GM and State worker breadwinners. Especially scary times.
There is actually a slightly inappropriate carnival atmosphere. Rather the way people respond when the disaster actually hits - a level of subdued excitement that the worst really happened and how well can I deal with it. How will I cope? Me, I just think, cool, I can finish a couple of sticky projects that refuse to be tamed amidst the usual work time interruptions and other priorities tugging at my skirts. We will be just fine-whatever happens.
But no huddled masses and wringing of hands. Offers of "I can't disappoint this group of people", "how do we hold this meeting?" "Is there anything else we can do to help?" Rather humbling to realize that even in the midst of bad news and even less hope, people keep doing the right thing. Might even readjust my naturally cynical view of people. We feel the pain of our brothers and sisters in Michigan and, especially poignant, many Lansing folk have both GM and State worker breadwinners. Especially scary times.
There is actually a slightly inappropriate carnival atmosphere. Rather the way people respond when the disaster actually hits - a level of subdued excitement that the worst really happened and how well can I deal with it. How will I cope? Me, I just think, cool, I can finish a couple of sticky projects that refuse to be tamed amidst the usual work time interruptions and other priorities tugging at my skirts. We will be just fine-whatever happens.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
A STACKED DECK INDEED
Visiting with Mother the other day I answered a question the nurse asked with a revelation. When she asked how many children Mother had I said "4 Queens and a Knave". A full deck of characters. The more you think about it, the more it makes sense. Accomplished strong women all, loyal to each other and each immensely herself.
Kathleen - Queen of Hearts - kind, compassionate, non-judgmental Mother, a tigress when aroused
Marcia- Queen of Diamonds - classic, sharp, a precious gem of sharp edges and infinite fire
Lori - Queen of Clubs - soldier, world traveler, confident, and tougher on herself than anyone else
Sheila -Queen of Spades - strong, acerbic tongue, defender of the weak, hater of those who take advantage.
Kathleen - Queen of Hearts - kind, compassionate, non-judgmental Mother, a tigress when aroused
Marcia- Queen of Diamonds - classic, sharp, a precious gem of sharp edges and infinite fire
Lori - Queen of Clubs - soldier, world traveler, confident, and tougher on herself than anyone else
Sheila -Queen of Spades - strong, acerbic tongue, defender of the weak, hater of those who take advantage.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
BIRTHDAY SCENES
Amazing how life loves to screw with you. Or best laid plans, blah blah blah. It was the boy's birthdy on July 10 and wanted to have some fun with it. NOTE: He hates surprises and I love to be creative. Translation-collision course inevitable, but it keeps life interesting.
Anyway the daughter, son and I decided to get Dad an MP3 player. They are the techies but I thought he might like it for exercise, driving for Saturn or playing his "Hermans Hermits" greatest hits without inflicting it on the rest of the civilized world. Actually he said now he needs to find Patty Dukes' one and only album on CD so he load it one -EWWWWW, but I digress. Anyway I pick one up that has 8GB on it (more memory) and the kids decide, no he needs the Apple IPOD. So they go buy that one and I have to take the first one back. So far so good.
Second stage-I talk to his golf partner and say drag him to the sports bar after golf tuesday and we will all be there with cake and assorted bells and whistles on. Meanwhile the boy asks -are we doing anything tusday night? I kind of go hmmm hmmm and he says fine, he'll just golf then.
Here's the fun part. K & M are supposed to pick me up at 8:00 to go to the golf course when the mother of all lightening storms moves in-are they golfing or not? Then at 6:15 Burt's golf partner calls and says I'm so sorry, I was locked out of my car, had to walk home, and ahh ahh I'm not at the golf course. Shisskeeee. Ok-plan B-go to golf course as planned and put a note on his truck -not quite the surprise, but that'll work. Meanwhile I retrieve the cake I baked from the dryer-he would never look there-and have the plates, etc ready to go on the counter.
Plan mess-up #3. At 7:20 birthday boy waltzes through the back door and I am sitting there with the cake, etc in front of me. Thinking quickly I yell "Surprise". Oh well. K & M came over and spent the next hour a half getting the IPOD to work so we had a good time.
Other neat thing was watching my daughter's interaction with her husband as they struggle with the computer, download software, screw around with too little directions to get the IPOD up and running. To all those married folks out there who have tried to put something together- cribs, toys, christmas gifts- you know how ugly it can get. "Read the freaking directions" "I don't need to, I'm not an idiot" "Yes you are" and so on. The two of them do that but in a loving and bantering way. Really nice. They seem to know each other very well.
Anyway the daughter, son and I decided to get Dad an MP3 player. They are the techies but I thought he might like it for exercise, driving for Saturn or playing his "Hermans Hermits" greatest hits without inflicting it on the rest of the civilized world. Actually he said now he needs to find Patty Dukes' one and only album on CD so he load it one -EWWWWW, but I digress. Anyway I pick one up that has 8GB on it (more memory) and the kids decide, no he needs the Apple IPOD. So they go buy that one and I have to take the first one back. So far so good.
Second stage-I talk to his golf partner and say drag him to the sports bar after golf tuesday and we will all be there with cake and assorted bells and whistles on. Meanwhile the boy asks -are we doing anything tusday night? I kind of go hmmm hmmm and he says fine, he'll just golf then.
Here's the fun part. K & M are supposed to pick me up at 8:00 to go to the golf course when the mother of all lightening storms moves in-are they golfing or not? Then at 6:15 Burt's golf partner calls and says I'm so sorry, I was locked out of my car, had to walk home, and ahh ahh I'm not at the golf course. Shisskeeee. Ok-plan B-go to golf course as planned and put a note on his truck -not quite the surprise, but that'll work. Meanwhile I retrieve the cake I baked from the dryer-he would never look there-and have the plates, etc ready to go on the counter.
Plan mess-up #3. At 7:20 birthday boy waltzes through the back door and I am sitting there with the cake, etc in front of me. Thinking quickly I yell "Surprise". Oh well. K & M came over and spent the next hour a half getting the IPOD to work so we had a good time.
Other neat thing was watching my daughter's interaction with her husband as they struggle with the computer, download software, screw around with too little directions to get the IPOD up and running. To all those married folks out there who have tried to put something together- cribs, toys, christmas gifts- you know how ugly it can get. "Read the freaking directions" "I don't need to, I'm not an idiot" "Yes you are" and so on. The two of them do that but in a loving and bantering way. Really nice. They seem to know each other very well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
