Monday, February 7, 2011
---EXCESSIVE CELEBRATING---
I have been away from this blog for awhile...guess reluctant to finish the "story" about mom. In the mean time...SUPER BOWL!!! Gosh, it is nearly a national holiday. We settled in with more snacks than we could ever eat...furniture changed around to accommodate the guests...and a bet---(larger than $1) made with Keith. I went with the "underdogs", (even though Mom was born in Pittsburgh) for $25. My choice of teams was purely emotional---I DID think it was time for the trophy to return to WI---(after all it was called Lombardi.)---and I thought WI had the cuter quarterback. They certainly came out fighting. It was one of the first few plays---a touchdown for Greenbay---and what do you think---a flag was thrown. EXCESSIVE CELEBRATING was the call for FIFTEEN YARDS!!!! I was mad---it seemed so harsh for some guy knelling down, all by himself, in the end zone. Consider this---football has all these overgrown, overpaid, well padded "boys". The whole intent of the game is to gain access to a football---that someone else has. Some players get overzealous and grasp a "face mask" or hit late or a thousand and one plays worthy of a penalty. The game itself is set up to hit, tackle, push the ball out and "jam pile" if the ball comes loose. So answer me why a fifteen yard penalty for ONE GUY---not hitting or hurting (at least physically) any one else. Just him---all alone---end zone---kneeling???!!!!!
Friday, December 10, 2010
Christmas Food Court Flash Mob, Hallelujah Chorus - Must See!
what a treat...lunch and entertainment!!!!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
take life slowly---one step at a time
"THE JOURNEY" has to pause a bit and do this thing called life. I will be back with mom's trip to her next life.
I remember as a nurse occasionally working with my mom at Dr. Nelson's office. (my mom was a nurse also). We would drive to her house for our lunch break and she would do more in that one hour, than I did most days. She would have her laundry to "hang out" and a quick look at her "soap"; dinner started; and time to go back and work another six hours. I always marveled at how fast she did things. Myself on the other hand loved the challenge of waiting till the last minute to finish a project. Kid's communion dresses were still being hemmed on the day; paperswhile in school took all day of the day they were due etc.; I think you get the picture.
I have engaged on an art project that is from a magazine called, "...image to the soul". It is probably an art piece I would not have been too keen on making, but some friends and myself have been meeting and stretching ourselves on projects to try. This one is dedicated to my mom and I have really gotten into it...almost a must do project---but with enjoyment.
I was putting several goats of paint onto a canvas---trying to hurry as I have the kids coming tonight for dinner and a movie night---and I was wanting to quickly wipe the new paint off. I hurried from the outside---distracted---and the next thing I knew I was on the floor---following a rather large crash. ( Why is it the first thing you do when you fall is look---to see if anyone saw you??!) I had tripped over a storage bin (that I left out) and pulled a chair down with me. I injured both legs and my left arm and of course, my dignity. Keith came rushing to see what had happened...and the rest as they say, is history. I anticipate some soreness, but for now I am just grateful that no one else was here. Go figure---as I write this on my blog for the world to see???? It is a little more light hearted than the previous posting. I WILL BE BACK.
I remember as a nurse occasionally working with my mom at Dr. Nelson's office. (my mom was a nurse also). We would drive to her house for our lunch break and she would do more in that one hour, than I did most days. She would have her laundry to "hang out" and a quick look at her "soap"; dinner started; and time to go back and work another six hours. I always marveled at how fast she did things. Myself on the other hand loved the challenge of waiting till the last minute to finish a project. Kid's communion dresses were still being hemmed on the day; paperswhile in school took all day of the day they were due etc.; I think you get the picture.
I have engaged on an art project that is from a magazine called, "...image to the soul". It is probably an art piece I would not have been too keen on making, but some friends and myself have been meeting and stretching ourselves on projects to try. This one is dedicated to my mom and I have really gotten into it...almost a must do project---but with enjoyment.
I was putting several goats of paint onto a canvas---trying to hurry as I have the kids coming tonight for dinner and a movie night---and I was wanting to quickly wipe the new paint off. I hurried from the outside---distracted---and the next thing I knew I was on the floor---following a rather large crash. ( Why is it the first thing you do when you fall is look---to see if anyone saw you??!) I had tripped over a storage bin (that I left out) and pulled a chair down with me. I injured both legs and my left arm and of course, my dignity. Keith came rushing to see what had happened...and the rest as they say, is history. I anticipate some soreness, but for now I am just grateful that no one else was here. Go figure---as I write this on my blog for the world to see???? It is a little more light hearted than the previous posting. I WILL BE BACK.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
journey of life
When I would try to figure out if I should go to see my dying mom my daughter Tracy used to say, "Mom, you'll know when it's time." October 5Th was time---and I KNEW IT.
Mom had been falling; not eating; and was hospitalized after several visits to Er's. When I called my sister and told her I was coming, she did not try to talk me out of it as she had in the past. I KNEW IT WAS TIME.
I packed, not knowing how long I would be in Michigan. Keith came with me as I had not been on an airplane since my very unpleasant Hawaii trip---but that's another story. We left out of John Wayne Airport... tickets some cheaper and not that far to get to. Our flight was uneventful and we arrived in Detroit Metro without incident. We rent a car and are off for the two hour trip to Saginaw.
Did I mention it was our 47Th wedding anniversary??? We looked for a place to eat as the airlines do not serve anything. We were dog tired and hungry. We saw a sign for "CHILI DOGS", Keith's favorite food of all kinds. I suggest we go there and his face lit up like it did the Christmas I told him he didn't have to come shopping with me. We enjoyed a hot dog and some onion rings. Well---not exactly enjoyed but we had eaten in worse "joints" than that in our 47 years. We got back on the road as soon as we could.
We finally get to my sister's house. We enter and find that the living room has been converted to a mini apartment for mom. A hospital bed sits at an angle in the room, where it appears she would be able to see outside if she desired. There are two lounge chairs, one dad's and one is mom's. A nice size TV, but the big surprise is Mary had taken down her pictures and replaced them with the pictures mom had on the apartment walls. One is a very dated picture of me and my three sisters. Did I say outdated? Then there are pictures of mom and dad when they were married in 1955; one of dad in the service; a picture of dad's mom and one of mom's mother. A couple of frames with dad's medals in them and finished off with a "sick call crucifix." For those who don't know, that is a cross that was used when the priest came to the home to bless the dying person. It has two candles in it, which has a fitting place and should be lit. There is also a small bottle with holy water, that the priest uses to bless the patient. In the old days this call to the priest was when a person was definitely going to die. The priest would enter the house where he was met with the lit candles and led to the sick person's bed. This was called "Extreme Unction". Since Vatican ll, it is called "sacrament of the sick" and is often done while the patient is ambulatory and doing something as simple as a surgery for which he or she wants to be blessed.
I walk to mom's bed and she looks as though she is sleeping. I get a full report from my sister on how she was doing. It seems her first night, last night, she was more than a little upset that dad was not in bed with her or vice versa. She insisted that he come and get her to go into his bed. It took several times to tell her that dad needed his rest and that there was not room for her in the twin bed he was using. Mary says, pray there is no repeat, as she could hardly get her to settle. Let's see how good the "pediatric nurse" is with the geriatric patient. And so our journey begins.................
Mom had been falling; not eating; and was hospitalized after several visits to Er's. When I called my sister and told her I was coming, she did not try to talk me out of it as she had in the past. I KNEW IT WAS TIME.
I packed, not knowing how long I would be in Michigan. Keith came with me as I had not been on an airplane since my very unpleasant Hawaii trip---but that's another story. We left out of John Wayne Airport... tickets some cheaper and not that far to get to. Our flight was uneventful and we arrived in Detroit Metro without incident. We rent a car and are off for the two hour trip to Saginaw.
Did I mention it was our 47Th wedding anniversary??? We looked for a place to eat as the airlines do not serve anything. We were dog tired and hungry. We saw a sign for "CHILI DOGS", Keith's favorite food of all kinds. I suggest we go there and his face lit up like it did the Christmas I told him he didn't have to come shopping with me. We enjoyed a hot dog and some onion rings. Well---not exactly enjoyed but we had eaten in worse "joints" than that in our 47 years. We got back on the road as soon as we could.
We finally get to my sister's house. We enter and find that the living room has been converted to a mini apartment for mom. A hospital bed sits at an angle in the room, where it appears she would be able to see outside if she desired. There are two lounge chairs, one dad's and one is mom's. A nice size TV, but the big surprise is Mary had taken down her pictures and replaced them with the pictures mom had on the apartment walls. One is a very dated picture of me and my three sisters. Did I say outdated? Then there are pictures of mom and dad when they were married in 1955; one of dad in the service; a picture of dad's mom and one of mom's mother. A couple of frames with dad's medals in them and finished off with a "sick call crucifix." For those who don't know, that is a cross that was used when the priest came to the home to bless the dying person. It has two candles in it, which has a fitting place and should be lit. There is also a small bottle with holy water, that the priest uses to bless the patient. In the old days this call to the priest was when a person was definitely going to die. The priest would enter the house where he was met with the lit candles and led to the sick person's bed. This was called "Extreme Unction". Since Vatican ll, it is called "sacrament of the sick" and is often done while the patient is ambulatory and doing something as simple as a surgery for which he or she wants to be blessed.
I walk to mom's bed and she looks as though she is sleeping. I get a full report from my sister on how she was doing. It seems her first night, last night, she was more than a little upset that dad was not in bed with her or vice versa. She insisted that he come and get her to go into his bed. It took several times to tell her that dad needed his rest and that there was not room for her in the twin bed he was using. Mary says, pray there is no repeat, as she could hardly get her to settle. Let's see how good the "pediatric nurse" is with the geriatric patient. And so our journey begins.................
Monday, September 20, 2010
Life goes on...
Everything has happened and nothing has happened. I haven't been on my blog since I wrote about my mom. It is always amazing to me that everyday things occur, even when you are hurting. I realize that sounds naive, it just is----amazing.
As a Christian, I believe that this life is temporary. To put into "Baltimore Catechism" terms,"...we are on this earth to know, love and serve God and to be forever with Him in Heaven." Well, you get the meaning. Because of the "sin" of Adam and Eve", (that's a whole different story), we have sin and suffering. I guess that's why,( coming into this world, "birth canal", come on), and going out is so painful. Remove all sentiments and feelings, death is a good thing. Actually a very good thing since our "after life" is so long, eternity? In Sr. Cunnagunda's words,"...if you take ONE grain of sand" and something, something (hey, I wasn't listening) This is getting way too philosophical anyway. Life does go on.
September 11 anniversary came and went. The terror was remembered, but not in the way we experienced it on that dreadful day. The "little boys" had soccer and football games---lost one and won one, and life went on. The teen girls had games, homework, dance, and life went on. I had a class to teach, art play, and meals to fix and life went on. Keith had work with John, growth group meetings, attendance at above activities, and life went on.
My mom is still dying, my dad is still trying to help mom, and Mary Ellen goes there daily to help in all ways she can. We talk, every day and until I get the inevitable phone call to come, life goes on.
As a Christian, I believe that this life is temporary. To put into "Baltimore Catechism" terms,"...we are on this earth to know, love and serve God and to be forever with Him in Heaven." Well, you get the meaning. Because of the "sin" of Adam and Eve", (that's a whole different story), we have sin and suffering. I guess that's why,( coming into this world, "birth canal", come on), and going out is so painful. Remove all sentiments and feelings, death is a good thing. Actually a very good thing since our "after life" is so long, eternity? In Sr. Cunnagunda's words,"...if you take ONE grain of sand" and something, something (hey, I wasn't listening) This is getting way too philosophical anyway. Life does go on.
September 11 anniversary came and went. The terror was remembered, but not in the way we experienced it on that dreadful day. The "little boys" had soccer and football games---lost one and won one, and life went on. The teen girls had games, homework, dance, and life went on. I had a class to teach, art play, and meals to fix and life went on. Keith had work with John, growth group meetings, attendance at above activities, and life went on.
My mom is still dying, my dad is still trying to help mom, and Mary Ellen goes there daily to help in all ways she can. We talk, every day and until I get the inevitable phone call to come, life goes on.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
heartache
I'm not so old that I do not remember what a "broken heart" is. It is the crushes that go wrong when you first start noticing the boys. The high school sweetheart, for some at least, who "breaks your heart..." Well, I think you get the drift.
My Mom lives in Michigan, where we were raised and where we raised our families before moving west. We saw my parent's at least yearly, for a winter visit. Two years ago, Mom says that they won't be coming this year "...cuz we/re just getting too old". I haven't been able to travel because of some health issues, so I have not seen my parents in a long time. The phone kept us somewhat in touch...and time passes.
2010 my mom is diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. (She has out lived all of her family at 85 years of age. ) And what a sentence. This disease is often called one in which the family suffers, as the "patient" is more and more unaware of their surroundings. When mom called me Fern I wasn't that upset, tho' I did remember Fern is the sister she did not get along with. At that time there were so many lucid moments that a few not knowing who or where was forgivable.
Today I learned from my sister/saint Mary that there is a possibility of calling "hospice" in if she doesn't start eating. Now, we all know what "hospice" means. (sort of like calling the priest for Extreme Unction in the old days) You always wanted to wait to be certain the person was REALLY going to die. Mom mostly sleeps now and occasionally knows Mary. I am 2000 miles away and am trying to somehow digest all of this and wonder what and if I should go.
Anyone who knows me well, knows that my mom and me had a somewhat violable relationship. I am not sure why but we both had to be right and wanted all of the people around us to take our side. When I would realize how silly this was---I would write notes, (especially when I was younger) to tell her how sorry I was. This is maybe that note to her.
Mom,
I am so sorry to be so far away. I wish I could be more of a help, especially for Mary. I wish I could sit at your feet and you would stroke my hair and tell me how much you love me. Instead I am stuck on a rewind in my head of EVERY DISAGREEMENT we have ever had. In that respect, I am almost grateful that you are unaware of your memories. Pleas take a somewhat recent one where we were at Traverse City and you and I went back to the cottage together. I don't recall our conversation but I do recall laughing and being happy that I was with you. I have tried to hold that memory in these days of hearing your struggle.
I have always believed that God knew who our parents were...and so, no matter any disagreements in life, You were the MOM He gave me. Thanks for all you have done---and even for what you have NOT DONE. Somehow in that mixed up mind PLEASE know that I love you and I pray for a peaceful departing of this step of your journey into the next. Oh, and mom, all your tears will be washed away into laughter and you can run to your Mom's arms.
My Mom lives in Michigan, where we were raised and where we raised our families before moving west. We saw my parent's at least yearly, for a winter visit. Two years ago, Mom says that they won't be coming this year "...cuz we/re just getting too old". I haven't been able to travel because of some health issues, so I have not seen my parents in a long time. The phone kept us somewhat in touch...and time passes.
2010 my mom is diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. (She has out lived all of her family at 85 years of age. ) And what a sentence. This disease is often called one in which the family suffers, as the "patient" is more and more unaware of their surroundings. When mom called me Fern I wasn't that upset, tho' I did remember Fern is the sister she did not get along with. At that time there were so many lucid moments that a few not knowing who or where was forgivable.
Today I learned from my sister/saint Mary that there is a possibility of calling "hospice" in if she doesn't start eating. Now, we all know what "hospice" means. (sort of like calling the priest for Extreme Unction in the old days) You always wanted to wait to be certain the person was REALLY going to die. Mom mostly sleeps now and occasionally knows Mary. I am 2000 miles away and am trying to somehow digest all of this and wonder what and if I should go.
Anyone who knows me well, knows that my mom and me had a somewhat violable relationship. I am not sure why but we both had to be right and wanted all of the people around us to take our side. When I would realize how silly this was---I would write notes, (especially when I was younger) to tell her how sorry I was. This is maybe that note to her.
Mom,
I am so sorry to be so far away. I wish I could be more of a help, especially for Mary. I wish I could sit at your feet and you would stroke my hair and tell me how much you love me. Instead I am stuck on a rewind in my head of EVERY DISAGREEMENT we have ever had. In that respect, I am almost grateful that you are unaware of your memories. Pleas take a somewhat recent one where we were at Traverse City and you and I went back to the cottage together. I don't recall our conversation but I do recall laughing and being happy that I was with you. I have tried to hold that memory in these days of hearing your struggle.
I have always believed that God knew who our parents were...and so, no matter any disagreements in life, You were the MOM He gave me. Thanks for all you have done---and even for what you have NOT DONE. Somehow in that mixed up mind PLEASE know that I love you and I pray for a peaceful departing of this step of your journey into the next. Oh, and mom, all your tears will be washed away into laughter and you can run to your Mom's arms.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
risk taker-------------not in art
What a week this has been. My sleep is still messed up, so...................I got on the computer at an odd hour,and it brought me courage to share some of my paintings. You would think with these sleep habits gone astray I would DO some painting, but I sent odd ones already done, hanging in the house. I started with my favorite...Isiah 49. I painted this in acrylic when I was in a bad time in my life. Well, comparatively speaking, not THAT bad, but it has become one of my favorites. I rarely work in acrylics, except in collage work, so it is probably the only one I will do. It was done first in dark colors and it looked like a hand coming out of hell. I redid it in softer colors and we can sleep at night with it in our room. I'm getting off track...
I am not even sure how I stumbled onto this site: www.paintingsilove.com (artist, Geo) I timidly offered this painting to the site. Imagine my proud moment when I checked in the morning, and another artist had critiqued my work! It was a simple one liner---but oh it was beautiful!!!!!! Bonus that she was from the UK, where some of the oldest art comes from.
Well-----------------I thought if THAT was OK, then I would send some others. What an absolute blast to be on a site with so many gifted artists, with all kinds of mediums. I'm afraid it has really created a monster! But wait---maybe I'll paint that "feeling"!!!!!!
Hugs,
Geo
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