It Matters to Me

Dear Mom,

It was so good to see you today!  I love your smile and how you light up when you see me.

You looked good.  For 94 years young you look younger than some other people I know. Shhh..we will keep that a secret between us.

You asked about Dad..as usual he is traveling for business.  You shrugged knowing how often he does this.

I brought you lunch. You were delighted and promises were made to warm it up when lunch time rolled around.

You said you were tired so I left to fetch some items you needed.  Toothpaste, tooth brush, socks, washcloths and some new sheets.  Easy enough, or so I thought.  Turns out full sheets are tough to find.  Well tough if you want them to be pretty and soft.  I hope you like what I picked.  They are soft but I couldn’t find floral so I had to settle for a blue geometric pattern.  Hopefully you love the softness more and can understand that floral sheets are hard to find.

I did find some beautiful rose colored washcloths.  They are soft and plush.  There is nothing worse than washing your face with something akin to sandpaper.

Of course the toothbrush, toothpaste and socks were the easiest except socks in your tiny size are not plentiful but I found them..go me.

I can’t bring everything over until tomorrow.  You will be surprised I know since every day is brand new to you.   Every minute is fresh with the previous minutes escaping from your memory moments after they pass.

You won’t remember that I even came by today.  You might remember your yummy hamburger 🙂  Food seems to be more memorable these days.

You accept that Dad is on a business trip.  It would be too painful to remind you every time that he is gone.  4 years today as a matter of fact.  You constantly look for him and ask about him.  Believe me I wish he was here too but it would be hard for him to see you like this.

I have so many questions that I want to ask but you are unable to answer.  I look through past photos…long before I was even in your thoughts as a possibility and I long to know that carefree spirit in the hula skirt or peeking out from behind the shower curtain in your dorm at nursing school.  I think we would have been friends and had a grand time together.

How I wish I had paid more attention to your cooking and how you put recipes together.  I asked you today but you couldn’t recall.  Lost opportunities. Thankfully I have your recipes in your beautiful handwriting that makes me smile.

As I carefully picked out the sheets and washcloths today I wondered why I was being so particular because in my brain I knew it really didn’t matter to you.  The color or the pattern, maybe even the softness or thread count were of no consequence.

My heart told me what is true..it matters.  It matters to me.

I am thankful you still remember who I am.  I am thankful I can see you in person and give you a quick hug.  I can brush your hair and tell you I love you.

In that moment it matters.  It always will.  I picked everything out with love today and that matters.

While I am often sad when I leave your room in Memory Care, knowing you would rather be with Dad,  I am thankful I get to tell you I love you one more time.

Love you Mom..bushels and bushels,

 Jennifer

Mom on her 80th

Me and Mom on her 80th!!!

 

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It’s Thoughtful Thursday! The Easy Way to Bring Joy to Yourself and Others

When was the last time you received a handwritten letter or note?  Bet it has been awhile.

I love receiving unexpected notes or letters .  Even if I know everything that is going on in that persons life  it is always good to see familiar handwriting in my mailbox.

You can bet it is the first thing I open.

Why is it so special?  I can only speak for myself but I always feel a little extra love  when someone takes the time and makes the effort to write a real note, find a stamp and get it in the mail.

It is the personal touch that means so much.

When I find letters from my grandmother in her very distinctive handwriting it is like having her here next to me.  At some point in time she touched the paper and wrote those words.  It will never be like having her physically here  but it is something I can touch and hold.  Just seeing it makes me smile.

Thoughtful Thursday started with the intention of writing real letters.  I have fallen down on the job lately so I am jumping back in and committing to sending more letters via the post office.

Just like painting it has a soothing, relaxing effect on me.  Watching and feeling the pen glide across the paper and taking the time to think of what I really want to say makes me slow down and be in the moment.

While you may think e-mails are forever, maybe not.  A handwritten letter has a life of its own.  At least it feels that way.  And opening up an older one feels like a treasure found and a bit of the past come to life.  I have all the letters my husband wrote to me while he was on Navy deployments and while we were dating.  I have a box of love letters between my parents and handwritten notes and recipes from my grandmother.  They are a bit of my personal history.

I also have letters my grandfather typed.  He even managed to find a typewriter  and write one while vacationing in Europe in 1964.  I imagine they had business centers back then as well but instead of computers they had  typewriters.

Honestly it is not cheating if you don’t like your handwriting and you want to type it but always remember to add a handwritten P.S. and your own signature 🙂

I will type some of my letters but my way of typing is definitely old school.   🙂  A throwback to my grandfather 🙂

Love this script typewriter

Yes I have a fascination with typewriters.  I make mistakes, I x them out.  It is so fun.  And I get lots of reaction from the recipients.  The added bonus is there a real satisfaction at pounding on the keys.  Not sure why but just the extra force needed feels like I am accomplishing something.

Here is the other cool thing about mailed letters:

Letting go of the immediate reply

I am never sure if it arrived or when it did and I never  expect a handwritten response.  Of course I would love one but that is not why I do it. I do it for the connection, and mostly just for the pleasure of imagining the smile on someones face when they open their mailbox to find something besides the ordinary bills or advertisements.

Ok..there is the possibility the person won’t smile..but I’m guessing they will.  And guess what?  I may never know and thats ok.

I send it off and hope it does its’ job to bring a little joy to a someone special.  Give it a try..it does a heart good.

Now as always..go out and make it a Thoughtful One.

Jennifer

 

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It’s Thoughtful Thursday…thankful for the mess

In the last four years you have read about my monumental task of cleaning out my parents house after my Dad died unexpectedly.  At the same time we also had to move my mother into Assisted Living.  Honestly much of that time is a blur in my memory.

I am still dealing with some of the aftermath.  Well a lot of it.  My parents didn’t throw out much.  The moment that is seared into my memory is opening a box and finding throw pillows from  the couch we had when I was five.  If it hadn’t been 10am I would have started drinking and Kahlua in my coffee does not count.  Well maybe it does.

In any case I am currently going through all the boxes of photos and memorabilia we dumped in my office after the final clean out.  I had to take a break after we finished.  Going through boxes is the most mind numbing experience.  I’d rather go to the dentist or take algebra again..and fail it ..again.

Lately though I have been thankful for the “classy hoarding” my parents did.  “Classy Hoarding” is a phrase I coined to refer to a house that looks put together but has closets and a basement just plain stuffed!  If the house could have groaned and let out its’ seams it would have done it!

So why am I thankful?  I am thankful because I am finding so many unbelievable treasures .  Treasures only to me and my family but still they are priceless.

Among other things I have found a letter written to my mother from  grateful parents whose young son died.  They wrote eloquently about how much they appreciated her kind and loving ways towards their 12 year old son as he passed away from cardiac problems.  My mother could not fill in the details ( unfortunately) but it was during her last weeks of nursing school.  The only thing she could say about it was that it was very sad.

I found humorous photos of my Mom and Dad in their youth.  As a child you never envision your parents as being wild and while this was the mild side of wild it was fun to see. It was  long before they were worried about what anyone would think and I found it refreshing.  I wish I could ask both of them about this time in their lives but one is in heaven and one is sadly in the throes of dementia.

I found letters written by them as a young engaged couple in love.  And then there is a lovely letter from the father of my mothers’ best friend extolling her virtues to her new in laws who did not approve of the marriage.  My grandparents thought my father could do better . Then my parents eloped and that didn’t help. They did recant those feelings many times over and became  Moms’ biggest fans.

In that same letter Ted Holtzinger painted a picture of my Moms’ tireless efforts on the pediatric polio ward before there was a vaccine.  Also as you read this please know that at 5 feet tall and 80 lbs my Mom was not much bigger than her patients.

           Ted wrote:

        I wish I could tell you of her heroic efforts on behalf of the littlest victims of this city’s worst polio epidemic.  She worked around the clock for what must have seemed like endless days trying to save those who were most seriously afflicted from death or from a life sentence to the worst phases of crippling that makes polio such a dreaded scourge.

     I saw her there one night when the epidemic was at it s height., her hands and arms reddened to the elbow form the hot packs that she was administering to the sufferers of this worst form of polio, I watched her wince as she lifted hot pack after hot pack from the scalding water and I said a silent prayer of thanks for women like Betty who could forget self in service to others so grievously afflicted and yet so needful of  her administrations.

My mother never told us about any of this.  I am so thankful this letter and others like exist and were saved so that I may have a glimpse of my mother before I knew her.

By the way I also have the response my grandfather sent many years later and it was eloquent as well.  Not sure why he waited so long but grateful I have the two letters to go side by side.

So on this Thoughtful Thursday what is my point about all these treasures?  Can you guess?

Write a real letter.  A real one.  Not a text or an email…a real honest to goodness letter.  Make a copy and save it.  Who should you write it to?  That is for you to decide but in this day and age of digital it is refreshing to hold a letter that can be read over and over again without turning anything on.

Tell someone what they mean to you, write down memories of fun times , special life events and anything that has become family lore. If you see someone like my Mom doing something so very special let them know you noticed.

I know it is all the rage to be minimalistic and to get rid of everything that isn’t nailed down.  I get it.  And all that is found will be digitized in case the originals are lost.  In the meantime it is a joy to hold a letter once written by a friend, a grandparent, my Mom, my Dad.  They once held that piece of paper.  The connection is real.

So thank you Mom and Dad…it has been hard but the rewards are bountiful.  I am so happy you saved this part of our history.

Now as always, go make it a Thoughtful One..and if you are so honored go hug your Mom and Dad !                                                                     Jennifer

 

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Using “Young” Wisdom to Pick my Next Book!

Is it possible we were smarter as kids then we are now? It’s not only possible it’s the truth.  Granted, as kids, we did not have all the life experiences that bring more common sense and obvious solutions.  We can make a batch of brownies without a chocolate explosion in the kitchen but the reality is I listened more to my heart when I was eight years old.  I knew what I wanted as a toddler ( even if it was unreasonable) and at eight.  I didn’t give two hoots about what I was suppose to wear, what the latest fashion was or if my belly was too big or my thighs were too chunky.

Given the era I grew up in the input from outside sources was limited to my parents, grandparents, older siblings (my sister was especially embarrassed by my fashion sense) teachers and my friends.

I had a second grade teacher who encouraged us to express ourselves through creative writing.  She wasn’t concerned about grammar or spelling or what subject we chose. She made the writing time more appealing than recess.  We couldn’t wait to get going on our stories.  It instilled in me a love for not only writing but reading as well.  I still have my box of writings with crayon illustrations.  A true treasure.

I was a voracious reader as a kid, it slowed down in my teen years and came to a screeching halt in college when I was forced to read textbooks that gave sawdust a run for its money in being interesting.

Lately I have been doing more reading in an effort to reduce the number of books in my house, to offset the crummy weather and no where to go pandemic boredom.  Also my pandemic pudge needs to go, so book in hand keeps hand out of mouth or so I am hoping.

It has been so interesting  to see what books I am choosing to read or maybe what I am not reading.

I could choose from one of the many  Pulitzer Prize winners, best sellers or a book from one of the endless celebrity book clubs made famous by Oprah. And yet those types of books rarely work for me.  I tried twice ( real book and audio) to get through “Olive Kitteridge” , a Pulitzer Prize winner, and I just couldn’t do it.  I could not believe it won that prestigious prize. Best sellers can also be great but when they are really awful I wonder how many have been “sold” but never read.

As far as the books go from the celebrity book clubs I am often puzzled  as to why they would choose a certain book.  I tried to read some of Oprah’s selections but honestly I found the ones I chose to be dark and dreary.  I actually purchased “Lovely Bones” and read it .  It has the distinction of being the only new book I have ever thrown out.  It was so disturbing I could not give it to a friend to read.   I was not going to be responsible for wasting someone else’s time with such a creepy book.

I have learned not to post about a book I did not like on social media. Okay..maybe I just did in that last paragraph but I will risk it. People take their book loves very personally and if you dare to say you didn’t like it they act like you said their kid was ugly.  Wow!  Then they will plead with you to try again.  If I have to struggle to get through the first 50-100 pages then it is a no go.  Try again?  Probably not.  Life is too short to read books that I  don’t like no matter how many people love them.

So back to my wise and wonderful 8 year old self. 🙂  I have fond memories of climbing the winding stairs of the old library in our town.  Sometimes I would race up them to get to the children’s section.  I would plop myself down on the scuffed up wooden floor in front of the shelves and start looking, pulling out the ones that interested me, reading a few pages, putting it back or deciding it was a keeper.  Without lists, suggestions or book clubs I managed to pick out some gems:

  • The Secret Garden
  • Stuart Little
  • Caddie Woodlawn
  • Henry and Beezus ( actually anything by Beverly Cleary)
  • Harriet the Spy
  • Nancy Drew ( The Ghost of Blackwood Hall scared the pants off me)

 

Much like the imaginary friend I had when I was five, I now take my 8 year old self with me to the library, the bookstore or where ever I find myself looking at books which is just about everywhere I go.  Together we pick out books that I often can’t put down.

Trust yourself like you did when you were a kid.  Read what you love whether it’s  fantasy, romance novels, thrillers, classics, comic books or Sci fi.   What YOU love…nobody else has to love it. As long as it brings you joy than it’s the best book for you!

So here’s to you next best read…may it make your February days warmer and transport you to another time and place..a mini vacation pandemic style!

And as always..keep triing!  Jennifer

P.S.  If you want to know what I am reading you can find me on GoodReads where I sometimes ( tri) to list the books I have read.

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It’s Thoughtful Thursday..Spread kindness like glitter

I lost a friend to cancer the morning of December 24th.  She did not want to leave her family, husband, kids, grandkids or friends.  She was not so much concerned for herself but for them.

I have another friend who is awaiting test results.  She is hoping for good news.  Not so much for herself but for her family and especially for her recently widowed mother.

So many are fighting battles out there. Battles that they entered unwillingly and have little control over and yet their concern is for  those around them.

So I’m asking you on their behalf and those like them that just for today to be a little kinder, a little more forgiving, slower to anger, better at scrolling past social media posts  and not leaving comments you may end up regretting.

Let us love more, smile always and find new ways to be thoughtful.

We can all benefit.   Your thoughtfulness may make someones’ day just that much better and no doubt yours as well.

Those small acts of goodness are like a handful of glitter..it sparkles, it spreads brightness and once scattered  it goes everywhere.  Let’s put a little more kindness glitter in the world and make it sparkle.

Go be that sparkle of kindness ..makes you smile just thinking about it doesn’t it?

And as always..go make it a thoughtful one…with a little glitter:)

Jennifer

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The Perfectly Imperfect Christmas Tree

Every single year on the day after Christmas I make myself the same promise.  Next year will be different, next year I will be the one that has it all together for the holidays.  My shopping will be done early, the decorations will be up right after Thanksgiving, cards will be mailed out on time and I will sit back and relax and enjoy the holidays.   Oh and my tree will be one of those gorgeous ones that everyone ooos and ahhs over.

Oh yes…except it didn’t happen this year and it probably won’t ever happen.  Not just because of Covid and all the crazy things that happened this year but because it is just who I am.  Would it really be Christmas if I didn’t feel like my hair was on fire at least once?  Nope!

Honestly I think its in my DNA .  I will never be one of those people that has it all together all at the same time and at my age I am waving the white flag.  It’s who I am and it’s never going to change.

I KNOW I am not alone.

Let’s just take the tree for example.  For years when I was very young the tree didn’t go up until Christmas eve (my friends that put their tree up in Oct are going to need to be revived).  It is true. Oh and Santa dropped it off. One year my parents laughed and laughed because when the tree was delivered (I guess Santa just dropped it from the sky) it leaned to one side and evidently the Christmas tree place where Santa got it was next to a nudist colony. Wait , what?

For one I was too young to know what a nudist colony was and just now as I was thinking about it I realized that we lived in Indiana.  A nudist colony in December in Indiana?  Those are some hardy people.

We had Christmas tree lights that were so hot I’m surprised the tree didn’t catch on fire and we took great joy in just flinging that silver tinsel everywhere despite my mothers repeated requests that we “place” the tinsel carefully on the tree.  That just never happened.Who me? Iwasn't throwing the tinsel!

Who me?  I didn’t throw any tinsel!

So is it any wonder with that history I am unable to create a tree with the perfectly placed ornaments that are uniform in size and  all the same shade of red and green, while the base is surrounded by a variety of perfectly blooming poinsettias?

I thought about it this year as we pulled out the decorations.  At the base of the tree is the Christmas tree skirt I made when we were newly married and had no money. It is a patchwork of red and green squares. It is a reminder of simpler times, and has seen more than 40 Christmas’, 3 children, 6 grandkids and many friends.  On the branches are the photo ornaments of our children on their first Christmas, macaroni and falling apart construction paper ornaments,  decorations from all the different places we have lived, pets that have loved and left us and the pipe cleaner angels and a ballerina that adorned my parents tree for more than 60 years.  I am honored to place them on our tree.

So House Beautiful won’t be calling to photograph our tree, and my hair will catch on fire at least once before Christmas actually arrives. There will be at least one Christmas gift that gets lost before it is wrapped and one room in my house ( or maybe two) that looks like a wrapping paper bomb went off in it. We may or may not get a family Christmas photo with everyone looking at the camera and unlike last years photo my youngest grandson will NOT be flipping everyone off  AND I will forget and burn the rolls.

You have your traditions we have ours and burnt rolls is one of them.

Oh and before all this happens I will have to refrain myself from strangling the person who tells me how all their shopping is done, wrapped and cards mailed on Nov. 30th.

Just in case I do lose control the above is NOT a confession even though it looks like one.

Our tree and our Christmas will be perfectly imperfect.  We will do what we do best, laugh, make more memories and hope the macaroni ornaments hang on for one more Christmas because those are my favorites!

May your holiday be one filled with laughter and the blessings of family and friends even if we are all on Zoom.  Oh and I am here with the fire extinguisher for those hair on fire moments…plus lots of wine.

As always..doing what I do best..I keep triing.

 

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It’s Thoughtful Thursday : I will always be up for you..even if it’s 3am

I have been kind of absent here.  I had good intentions to get posts written but real life got in the way and then there is my dedication to procrastination.  I have written dozens of posts in my head but somehow they never made it onto paper or on the computer.

In a nutshell our experience with Covid 19 had an added dimension.  So much so that the quarantine was on top of me before I knew it.  I was like..wait, what?  Right before it reared its ugly head my elderly mother suffered a stroke.  The neurologist ( via the computer screen) assured us that it was the best kind of stroke to have and all of her deficits would resolve.

I wish I could remember his name because honestly I would like to egg his house or at least tell him he was so wrong.

You see while my mother suffered no physical deficits from the stroke it threw her into dementia.  She could not return to her independent living apartment and by the time she got out of rehab Covid 19 had actually locked her out of the facility. We ended up bringing her to our house.  For the sake of the quarantine it was the best option but with it came a ton of other problems including keeping her safe as she constantly tried to get out of the house.

About an hour away from me, my best friend, had a similar situation.  Her mother in law was gravely ill.  She needed round the clock caretakers and in July entered hospice.

She was my lifeline and I hope I was hers.  She was the person I could talk to…as in I could say anything to her and there was no judgement, no shoulding, no criticism.   We gave each other unconditional love and understanding.

We understood moving up cocktail hour a few hours, tears, frustrations, paperwork, the need to vent, and lots of dark humor which we both desperately needed.  We shared resources, tips and tricks and became each others “pushers” as in “hey this is on sale”  or “I just added this to my cart and thought of you.”

Our situations both changed in July.  We made the difficult but needed decision to move my mother to Memory Care and sadly Debbie’s mother in law ( who I knew and loved dearly) succumbed to cancer.

All through this we would get texts from each other “you up?”  the answer was always YES!  I recently told her that if she had texted me at 3am ( and I heard it) the answer would still be yes and I know the same is true for her.

Our situations continue in one form or another.  My mothers dementia is increasing and that is painful to watch.  Debbie is dealing with tying up all the paperwork, selling the house etc.  We continue to be there for each other.

We met for lunch this week for a belated birthday celebration ( her birthday was in June) and she had a gift for me.

Her mother in law had received it from her best friend and now Debbie was passing it on.  I love that it is continuing it’s journey to another set of best friends.  The fact that it came from Carol made it even more special.

Truer words were never spoken:

 

So on this Thoughtful Thursday if you are lucky enough to have a best friend, call her, text her, send her flowers because she is to be treasured!  Now go out and make it a Thoughtful One !

P.S.  A photo of Debbie and me..its about 10 yrs old but hey thats what best friends do 🙂

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Letting go and finding kindness…It’s Thoughtful Thursday!

It’s been awhile since I have had the time to post on Thoughtful Thursdays.  Feels good to be back and I am grateful that I have lots to share. Ironically  I have been graced with many “thoughtful” moments from good friends, family and chance meetings with strangers who will never know how they touched my life with their smile, their kindness or simple gestures of goodwill.

I keep running across decorative signs that have quotes about kindness. I  doubt these encounters are accidents as I feel we could all use a reminder that we all need a little kindness in our lives whether we are giving or receiving.  Often when I experience a random act of kindness or even an intentional one I am reminded how good it feels and then I try to pay it forward.

In March our daughters and I gave my hubby a surprise retirement party. It had to be a surprise because he would have never let me honor him with a party. I, however, knew he would love it and he did.

I had to do alot of trusting and letting go the day of the party.  The restaurant we were using was pretty loose on the arrangements and I started stressing over little things.  Wondering if they would have enough servers, what if the food took forever, would they have it all set up??  Because I was in charge of getting Paul there and maintaining the surprise I had to let that all go.  Our daughters were in charge of set up ( cake, photos, decorations) and greeting the guests.  AND then Paul started hammering me with questions.  He believed it was a surprise party for our daughter’s birthday and he kept questioning everything.  I was sure the gig was up but it was not.  As you can see he was totally surprised and happy!

Surprise!

And then people did some little things that were actually big.  A friend who could not make it to the party wrote the funniest toast.  I briefly saw it on my email but as luck would have it my computer printer died the day before.  I let it go figuring I could just read it from my phone.  Never fear our good friend Les printed it up and read it at the party and it was perfect.  More perfect than if I had asked him to do it.  His wife Tammy stepped in and cut the cake…one thing I had not thought of but her gesture of kindness and just doing what needed to be done was so appreciated.

The restaurant service was amazing.  Above and beyond anything I expected.

All in all it was a success.  Yes we planned and set things into motion but the real success came from just letting go, trusting it would work out and experiencing the kindness of all our friends who were willing to drive quite a distance to be there and celebrate Paul and then jump in and help without being asked.

Yes..it is so true…In a world where you can be anything…

Be Kind

And of course “Thoughtful”

Now go make it a Thoughtful one…Jennifer

 

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Sifting through the ashes and letting go…

I am haunted by a video clip I saw about a month ago as the California fires devastated so many communities.  A woman of 70 or so was desperately searching through the ashes of her home for her beloved wedding band.

I prayed she would find it knowing that the probability was not good.  Tears streamed down her face as her hands ran through the ashes and I realized much later that it wasn’t so much the wedding ring she was searching for but some tangible remnant of a life that had been swiftly taken from her as the fires raged uncontrollably.  She was forced to let go of all she had known for decades.  Grasping for even one small thing to hang onto she continued to search for something she could hold in her hand.

It was heart wrenching to witness.

My mother is doing the same thing although the circumstances are vastly different.  Her life changed drastically when my father passed away suddenly on March 31st.  I have watched her try to hold on to what she knew, what they shared, what they enjoyed.  She continued to buy the same groceries, making meals my father would enjoy.  Wanting my husband, her son and son in laws to do the things Dad did in the yard, finish the endless projects he started, follow the same routine.  She even wanted me to fill Paul’s plate and serve it to him as she would my Dad.

I got it.  I have been here and witnessed it all.  And it suddenly occurred to me that she was searching through the ashes of her life as well looking for what once was.

It was, is and continues to be heartbreaking.

This week it is especially evident. We found her an apartment in an independent living place near me.  We moved her furniture into her apartment last week-end.  It looks so cute and I was so pleased to see it all come together.  We headed back to Mom’s house to spend the week saying goodbye and pack up her personal items etc. She started focusing on things that didn’t matter, gathering up knick knacks,things she will never use, endless dried flower arrangements, wreaths,  platters, and other odds and ends. I was constantly reminding her that we only had my car and my husband’s car to carry all this and we really needed the room for her clothes, coats, shoes etc. She kept piling it up and I got testy knowing we could get this stuff later. She spent a whole morning looking for placemats that matched napkins she found ( hadn’t been used in decades). She scolded me for putting something on the floor in an emptied bedroom ( floor was clean) and scolded me again for packing her favorite pan and casserole dish. Sigh.

I measured my car to see what we could fit.  I started to panic. We had words. We made up. I realized then that she was still sifting, still looking, still yearning for the life she had with my Dad.

We did find some humor when she mentioned how much she missed Dad. I agreed and told her I missed him as well. She sighed and said she just wished he would come and get her.  This was just after we took her furniture down to her new place. I patted her on the hand and told her  I wouldn’t like that.  Then as an after thought and weary from moving  I asked if she could ask him to wait at least a month before he came and got her, she laughed and so did I.

For being almost 91 years old she is doing well and I am so  proud of her for taking this step forward.

Be like Mom…Keep Triing

What a cute couple !!!

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Sometimes it’s hard to do the right thing…

Maybe that is the wrong title.  I’m not sure.  I just know right now I want to be somewhere else. And yet  I know I am where I am needed.  I guess.  My heart tells a different story.

Five months ago my father passed away suddenly.  He was 90, vibrant, full of life until suddenly he wasn’t.  I’ve been with my Mom most of the last five months.   Someone has been with her non stop since she fell and injured herself on July 5th.  Tomorrow I will take her to the orthopedist to check on her broken wrist.  The doc only sees patients in this area on Friday.  She is anxious to get the cast off.  So the right thing to do is keep the appointment and not reschedule.

Every year around this time our son comes home from his job overseas and spends about a month with us.  I haven’t seen him since October.  As I write this he is about 45 minutes from landing at an airport near our home which is about 2 1/2 hours from where I am now.  I was home briefly this week-end so I made his favorite meal and chocolate chip cookies.

I wanted  some part of me to be there when he arrived.

Paul will be there to greet our son, bring him home, see his great smile in person, give him a big hug.

I’ll get to see him soon just not soon enough in my book.  I should be an adult about this but I don’t want to adult today.

I want to be at the airport anxiously awaiting as I quickly glance over the faces of the arriving passengers until I land on the one that is so familiar to me, and then I want to embarrass him by running to him and grabbing him in a hug.

I’ll get over this.  There are worse things I know.  I mean he is 30 years old right?  But I guess as his Mom he will always be that blonde toddler with the big blue eyes.

Christmas 1988

Sometimes adulting just plain sucks.

 

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