Tuesday, 30 November 2010 -- Day 345 (358)

I learned tonight that the best medicine for sadness, anger, and frustration is to help someone.  Oh, and wielding a hammer and crowbar help too!  Maddy and I went to Lora's tonight and tore-out the carpet in her dining room.  Hoisting furniture, yanking-up carpet, pulling out carpet staples and prying off tack strips did the trick.  Thanks for the therapy, Lora!

Monday, 29 November 2010 -- Day 344 (357)

I'm entering my final three weeks of writing in this blog, and I have mixed feelings about ending it.  At times it has helped me address feelings that otherwise would've stayed buried while at other times it has forced me to address feelings that I would've liked to have kept buried.  At times I worry that when I no longer write in this every night that I'll start to forget all the little things that I loved about being Mom's daughter.  Then at other times I think I'll be relieved that I don't have to figure out what to write about, and whether I have anything significant to communicate.  I'll try one more time.....

When Ron and I were at Dad's this past weekend, we asked if he wanted any Christmas decorations put up.  Dad didn't want to put up the tree.  I think he still feels a little guilty about not putting up the tree last year when Mom wanted to. Ron and I suggested setting out a couple of ceramic Christmas trees, but he didn't want anything.  I did manage to swap the silk tulip table arrangement for some poinsettia leaves and snowflakes.  I think I got by w/ that b/c they had been setting out all year; they were in some of the flower arrangements from the funeral.  He remained adamant, however, about NOT putting up a tree.

He called me tonight to say that he was in a "tweevil."  The young woman, "Susie," who I've written about before, told Dad he had to have a Christmas tree, and if he wouldn't do it then she would.  I admit that I was hurt that he would allow her to put up a tree, but he wouldn't let me.  I've never been good at hiding my true feelings, and Dad could tell over the phone that I was upset about him even considering allowing Susie to do what he wouldn't let his own son and daughter do.  As we talked some more, he revealed that he was afraid that if he told her that she couldn't put up a tree then she'd stop visiting him and bringing him food.  At that I had to concede, and I told him it would be okay; I wouldn't be angry if he bought a little four-foot tree for Susie to decorate.  "That's what I needed to hear," he said, and we moved on.

Sunday, 28 November 2010 -- Day 343 (356)

It was indeed a difficult holiday weekend, culminating in attending Sunday morning church service w/ Dad.  The children's choir sang, and not seeing Mom up there leading them brought the tears.  I didn't bother trying to hide them.  I've decided that showing emotion is a healthy outlet.  I'm going to try wearing my heart on my sleeve for awhile in hopes that I can better deal w/ the myriad of emotions I continue to feel.  "Showing it w/o blowing it" is my theme right now.  I definitely felt Mom's presence in church this morning.....I went, I felt, and I somewhat conquered.

Saturday, 27 November 2010 -- Day 342 (355)

They're back together, side-by-side, the flower and the humming bird. 
They're colors sometimes glow in unison then part ways.
They've been brought in from the cold to add warmth to Dad's nights.
They'll be parted when Spring returns: the flower atop Mom's grave, the bird outside Dad's window.
But for now while the winter winds howl, the flower and the humming bird are together.

Friday, 26 November 2010 -- Day 341 (354)

I'm at Dad's tonight for the last leg of the Thanksgiving weekend.........guess that's means it's the last turkey leg!  He's having a very difficult time w/ this holiday and the approaching one-year anniversary of Mom's death.  When I asked him if he thought it had become any easier to deal w/ her death, he said that he'd actually thought it had gotten worse.  In some ways this house of mourning has become a house in limbo.  This makes me question whether it's healthy to devote your life so completely to another person that when that person is gone, you find no joy in living.  Dad did mention tonight about moving her shoes from the closet to a burp tub under the bed, but when I asked if he wanted me to take them to Goodwill, he said, "Not yet."  Sometimes I think he's handling the grief and starting to move forward, like when he made a slight change to Mom's sewing room last month.  But then I see that the picture boards we made for her visitation are still propped up on the couch.  Ron has mentioned before that's it's difficult to come home b/c everything is basically as she left it so it feels like she should be coming around a corner at any moment.  I think Dad likes that feeling, but I believe it's a false sense of hope that I fear only makes him feel her loss more deeply w/ each passing day. 

Thursday, 25 November 2010 -- Day 340 (353)

Happy Thanksgiving!!  Much better day today.  We spent the day (and now the night) in Ida Grove w/ Doug's family just as we've done since 1992, except for last year, which I talked about in last night's post.  Dad spent the day w/ his sister and her family in Hampton so I was able to thoroughly enjoy this day knowing he was w/ loved ones also.  It's so important to be w/ friends and family at times when grief is guaranteed to overwhelm: holidays, birthday's, and anniversaries.

I rediscovered my love for the art of conversation today.  I say, art b/c it's a talent that I fear some are losing in this age of text messages and Facebook.  Such technology causes us to lose the nuances in facial expressions, tone of voice, gestures, and body posture. Since as much as 93% of communication comes from nonverbal messages, we' re losing a lot of meaning through these texts, emails, chat rooms, and social networking sites.  Sorry........I slipped into lecture mode for a little bit..........haven't seen students in two days..........going into withdrawal!

I'm recognizing that from the point when Mom was first given the prognosis of 2-3 years that I've been functioning in a fog, living in limbo, which all translates into not really living at all.  I'm a good communicator, well at least I used to be, and today I found that I still possess these skills, but I have to take them out and practice more in face-to-face situations.  Illness and grief have the potential to cause anti-social behavior, usually not on purpose, but they can cause us to carry this shell on our backs under which we pull in our heads at the first sign of pain.

Wednesday, 24 November 2010 -- Day 339 (352)

Very difficult day and night on this Thanksgiving Eve.  Last year at this time we were heading to my parent's house to surprise Mom.  I can still see her sitting at the table asking, "But why are you here?"  And then answering her own question by stating, "Oh.  Because this may be my last Thanksgiving."  And it was.  This weekend last year was the last time I saw Mom at home b/c the next two times I saw her were in the hospital.

She did most of the Thanksgiving meal last year both on Thursday and the following Sunday when we  usually celebrated w/ the entire family.  Most years she did it all, so the fact that she did most of it meant she wasn't feeling well.  It literally took death to slow Mom down.

Tuesday, 23 November 2010 -- Day 338(351)

 The quiche are in the oven, the pumpkin pie is on deck.  I've discovered I bake better w/ wine.............that is, drinking it, not using it.  Well, at least I had more fun this year in baking them.  We'll see what the jury says on Thursday.  Let me tell you the story of the wine that put me in this state.

For the last eight years, I've been playing piano in the Northwest Iowa Jazz Band.  I had taken this year off until I got a phone call last night from the band's leader, Steve.  The concert, scheduled for last night, had to be re-scheduled for tonight due to icy roads. The new pianist, however, couldn't make it so Steve asked if I could fill in.  Of course I said, "Yes," as long as he could get me the music sometime before the concert.  He brought it over last night...........w/ a bottle of wine to sweeten the deal.  A bottle that just-so happens to be made locally by the director of the jazz band. 

The concert went very well tonight, and after the concert one of my former students and her new husband stopped by......largely due to the promise of wine.  But they had traveled from South Carolina so they deserved it.  The wine was opened; we talked; they left; I did my baking; and now I can't feel my teeth.  What a wonderful night..........gotta check the quiche.

Monday, 22 November 2010 -- Day 337 (350)

The words aren't flowing tonight b/c I'm very distracted w/ emotions that have nothing to do w/ losing Mom.  I'm going to have to go offline to write about those b/c I'm not ready to make them public yet.

Sunday, 21 November 2010 -- Day 336 (349)

The quiet has descended.  I walk Kea now in darkness and silence, except for occasionally crunching through ice-encrusted snow.  I'm sure it was on a night similar to this when Austrian priest Joseph Mohr walked w/ his lyrics, Stille Nacht, to ask Franz Gruber to compose a melody.  Well, almost similar.....it's not Christmas Eve, but I'm aware that the approaching holidays means the approaching anniversary of Mom's death.  I'm still overcome w/ emotion anytime I think about or try to sing Silent Night, but I have hope that I'm moving toward the acceptance.  As a perfect ending to our walk, Kea spotted a doe w/ her fawn.  I kept her on a short lease and told her to still so we could watch the mama and her baby.  The fawn ate while the doe watched us watch them.....ever the alert mother.  On this stille nacht, watching the deer, I see Mom watching over me....ever alert, ever mindful, ever loving. "Sleep in heavenly peace."

Saturday, 20 November 2010 -- Day 335 (348)

I looked up and saw someone who is worse off than myself, yet he is happier b/c he has chosen to work with, rather than against, the current.

I think I mentioned several months ago a family friend who has been imprisoned for possessing adult and child pornography on his computer.  His mother called me today to ask if I'd write a character reference for him.  I didn't even hesitate in my compliance.  I know in my heart-of-hearts that he's a good kid.  Mom had personally selected him to be one of her pall bearers, and I plan to tell the judge that in my letter.  In talking w/ this kid's mother, she said that he's in good spirits and is dealing w/ things as they come.  I think that's important when dealing w/ difficult situations that we only allow our focus to be on the now and don't head down the path of what-ifs.  His imprisonment has brought him closer to God.  That's probably why he's in such good spirits.

My friend Barb forwarded me a message from her husband Steve who's teaching in Egypt.  He had recently visited Jerusalem and talked about the places he saw.  He took a boat ride on the Sea of Galilee where he saw a 2000-year-old boat that had been found in the mud.  He visited Masada and stopped along the River Jordan at the spot purported to be where Jesus was baptized.  How incredible it must be to walk where Jesus and Abraham and Moses walked.  I wonder if Steve felt a sense of peace in visiting all the Biblical icons.  Probably not since that region has been in turmoil almost from its creation.  I find it incredibly ironic that the land of prophets knows no peace, yet, even from inside a prison on the other side of the world, a young man walks w/ God and it brings him peace.

Friday, 19 November 2010 -- Day 334 (347)

Talking w/ a friend tonight about reincarnation made me wonder if I'd like it if Mom were reincarnated.  If I knew to where her soul was reborn then I'd be okay w/ it except that would mean that she hadn't yet broken the cycle and achieved Nirvana.  I just need some sign that her soul is at peace.  My faith should be strong enough to tell me it is, and maybe this is the Thomas coming out in me, but I want proof.  I want proof that her years of service to her church and her family and her community paid off, and that death didn't just end her suffering but paid for her entrance into eternity. 

For the six years that I've dealt w/ Kenzie's Crohn's Disease, Mom's cancers, my cancer and brain aneurysm I never asked, "Why?"  Not once did I question that all this should happen in my life.  And I'm still not asking for an explanation as to why I was given these bumps in the road.  I'm asking for assurance that all these bumps in the road are leading to those streets paved w/ gold behind the pearly gates.

I was raised in the Presbyterian faith, graduated from a Lutheran college, played piano for a Disciples of Christ church, and taught at a Quaker boarding school.  My life has been a quest of looking for the one way w/ the right answers to give me a life of meaning that leads to an afterlife of peace.  Maybe I've got it backward, and it's a life of peace leading to an afterlife of meaning.  Maybe I need to explore some more religions and denominations.  One thing I do know is that, for me, faith is about asking questions b/c w/o asking questions I can never find the answers.

Thursday, 18 November 2010 -- Day 333 (346)

Mom would've enjoyed this type of evening filled w/ family, friends, and community.  I enjoyed a drink w/ friends, dinner w/ my family (a rare treat lately), and the Parade of Lights down Central Avenue.  Yes, I was acting like a four-year-old, as Maddy accused me, applauding the lighted floats, begging for candy, waving at people on the floats, and joking w/ people around me.  Yet, amid all this happiness tonight, Doug's cousin lies fighting for her life in a hospital bed in Sioux Falls.  The longer I live the more I understand that to truly appreciate the good, we have to experience the bad.  There can be no happiness w/o sadness, no love w/o hate.  For this reason utopia will forever be out of reach here on earth.  It would stand to reason then that those, like Mom, who have entered heaven have no understanding of the pain and sadness we suffer as a result of their passing.  So it must further follow that for Mom's spirit to be drawn to me here on earth, I need to surround myself w/ only happiness, goodness, and love. 

Wednesday, 17 November 2010 -- Day 332 (345)

There are times when I just want to crawl in a hole and hide, hoping no one will find me.  I know it's a blessing to be needed, but I think it's also possible to be needed too much......especially when I'm putting others' needs before my own.  I don't think I could've talked to Mom about this one since she seemed to thrive on fulfilling the needs of others. 

Okay, I'm back......Maddy needed me to pick her up from youth group.  And that's exactly what I'm talking about.  You should probably just ignore me right now.......I'm tired and whiny.  I actually do a lot of what I want to do: going to zumba and purse parties and a holiday parade of homes and Coffeehouse & a wrestling meet at the college, although the latter two were mostly for my students.  For the most part, I'm living my life on my own terms.

Tuesday, 16 November 2010 -- Day 331 (344)

I don't take compliments well.  I tend to feel awkward and embarassed and have been known to avoid potential compliments altogether.  For example, when I used to play piano in church, people would come up to me afterward to tell me how much they enjoyed my playing.  Sometimes I would actually duck-out through the front of the church while people were filing out the back.  I know it appeared that I was being rude and stuck-up, but I have always found it difficult to just say, "Thank you" and leave it at that.  I always feel the need to lessen the compliment b/c I don't feel like I can take full credit.  By lessening the compliment, however, I realize that I've belittled the person.  I remember numerous times after Mom would receive a compliment on her appearance or a performance of Lucy's Kids or my kids, she would do the same thing.  And she would say to me, "I really should just say, thank you' and leave it at that." 

I also have a difficult time when people offer me sympathy.  I've always felt that if people feel sorry for me then I must be weak and helpless.....feelings I don't take kindly to.  B/c if they think I'm weak and helpless then I must have to act that way.  This line of reasoning starts the tears welling in the back of my eyes.  Again, I know they mean well, and I should just say, "Thank you," but I get so busy trying to avoid the tears and side-step the sympathy that I appear like I'm rejecting other's compassion.

Monday, 15 November 2010 -- Day 330 (343)

About 20 years ago I started using cloth bags when shopping.  Mom made my first ones, and now they're starting to get holes in them from frequent use and washing.  I used them in class today when modeling for my students a persuasive speech on reducing, reusing, and recycling.  I came close to losing it when I said, "I don't know how I'll patch them since my mom is gone, and I can't sew to save my life."  Just when I said it, I looked at a student who had such sadness and sympathy in her eyes that I took every ounce of public speaking experience to hold it together. 

I had a similar experience yesterday while talking w/ a friend about how different her relationship is w/ her mom compared to my relationship w/ mine.   Talking w/ this friend reminded me that mother's aren't always biological.  Anyone who touches our heart and guides our spirit is a mother.   I was blessed to have been related to my spiritual guide so that when I look at my hands or my face or my Bunyan, I can see her.

I've fallen into a depression again lately....the kind where I just go through the motions of living w/o embracing life.  Maybe I need to seek more help than this blog can offer.  I just want to be happy again, but I don't know how.  I just want to breathe w/o feeling guilty and not think how difficult it was for Mom to breathe near the end.  I want to cry w/o worrying that it's been too long since her passing and that I must be a wimp for still being overcome w/ an all-consuming grief at any second.  I just want to feel normal, but I think it's been too long for me to find my way back there.

Sunday, 14 November 2010 -- Day 329 (342)

It dawned on me this morning while washing dishes at a benefit for a local woman battling leukemia (yes, I was using Dawn dish washing soap), that Mom's first and and last jobs outside the home involved washing dishes.  When she was an adolescent, she and her cousin, Evelyn, washed dishes for the lady across the street.  They had to split 25 cents.  Mom's last job was working in the school cafeteria running the dishwasher.  She had to split her wage w/ the government.  Running the sprayer today, I pictured Mom in her corner of the cafeteria kitchen spraying down the lunch trays.  She was a pleasant lunch lady, and most of the kids always said "hi" when dropping off their trays.  Her former Lucy's Kids usually had a big smile to go along w/ the greeting.  Probably one of the greatest lessons I've learned from Mom is to never be too proud to wash dishes or scrub toilets to make money or help others.  She certainly did both.  I first learned how to clean toilets by helping her clean the shelter houses and bathrooms at the city park.  People do some really disgusting things in public restrooms, but cleaning them gave me a greater appreciation for any public restroom I've used since.  All this went through my mind while washing dishes this morning.  That's another reason I like manual labor......gives me time to think.

On a separate note......I felt tonight the frustration of being 150 miles from Dad.  He has his next cataract surgery on the 18th but has to start the preliminary drops tomorrow.  First, he thought he was supposed to start them on Tuesday, and then he couldn't remember which ones he was supposed to take.  After two frantic messages to Ron and a failed attempt at reaching David, I'm sorry to say that I dropped it in Ron's lap.  I tried to help Dad over the phone, but I only confused him.  At times like this, I really hate being so far away from him.  And now w/ wintry weather upon us, I worry that I can't get to him when he needs me.  I'm heading there on the 19th so I hope the weather and the roads cooperate.  I thank God that Susie (I think that's the alias I gave her) stops in several times to visit w/ Dad and bring him food.  I guess "what-goes-around" really does "come around."  Susie helps Dad, I helped Patty.

Saturday, 13 November 2010 -- Day 328 (341)

Apparently I didn't overdo it on the champagne last night since I didn't wake w/ a headache this morning.  Good thing, since Maddy and I drove home in near-blizzard conditions.  This drive reminded me of last Christmas Eve when we were trying to get to Dad's and had to turn around.  Either I'm too stubborn or too stupid b/c I kept going.  I'm just glad Maddy was along to keep me company.  We got a chance to play word games like we used to do when she and Kenzie were younger, and we go to talk and giggle.  These are the kinds of moments that become memories just like all the car rides w/ Mom where we sang silly songs, and she told us stories of the people she knew........Rosie Butts and Oscar Meyer.  Honest, she swore those were their names. 

Friday, 12 November 2010 -- Day 327 (340)

My brother got married tonight.  It was a lovely ceremony in their living room in front of the fireplace w/ it and candles burning and white roses on the mantel.  He and Dan both wore white boutonnieres that Phil made for the occasion.  The judge wore her black robes and talked gently and sincerely about the joy of two lives joining.  Afterward, we all drank champagne and discussed how happy we all are that Iowa passed same-sex marriage and what will happen if the other justices who voted for it are ousted like the three during the recent November 2nd voting.  The judge's husband, who was also present for the ceremony, is a divorce attorney.....strange combination.....she marries people, and he helps them get divorced.  Anyway, he informed us that now that Ron and Dan are legally married, they will remain so regardless of what happens w/ the law.  How frustrating it must be to have others dictate who you can marry.  Thank God we live in changing times where marriage is based on love and commitment, not gender.

Driving from my house to Ron and Dan's today was the first time I've driven that route since Mom died.  She died in Allen Memorial Hospital just a few miles from their house.  Driving conditions were oddly similar.  I was driving like a bat-out-of-hell that time too and was oblivious to my surroundings.....I know, not a good combination when driving.  At least I wasn't crying the whole way this time, but it was raining outside so that condition was pretty much a wash. 

When Ron told Dad about his wedding and that I would be driving down for it, Dad's only remark was, "Well, don't expect me to be there."  Unfortunately, even if Mom were alive right now, she would've had a similar comment.  When my sister Lori and her now-spouse, Heather, had their commitment ceremony nine years ago, Mom and Dad refused to go.  I know that friends and family will always disappoint us just as we'll always disappoint friends and family, but I was really hoping Dad would at least say, "Congratulations."  I can't be mad at him, however, for having different beliefs.  Doing so would make me a hypocrite.  If I want others to tolerate my beliefs then I must tolerate theirs as well.  Tolerance does not equate agreement.

For me, I completely agree and tolerate the marriage of my brother Ron to his friend, partner, and lover Daniel.

Thursday, 11 November 2010 -- Day 326 (339)

I've started wearing Mom's short, black leather jacket.  It's a beautiful coat, but I'd rather she was wearing it.  I found her gloves in the pockets.  I kept them there.  They're a little too small for my hands, but I'll keep them in the pockets just the same.  I like wearing something that I know has touched Mom's hands and arms and shoulders.  There's also a dime in the right pocket. I'll just keep it there too.  I like to hold onto it when I put my hand in that pocket.  The left pocket held used tissues.  Those I threw away.  I'm sentimental, but that's pushing the envelope.

Wednesday, 10 November 2010 -- Day 325 (338)

My students are doing their informative speeches.  A nontraditional student did her speech on quilting.  I knew this was her topic, but I hadn't even considered how I would respond to it. Mom tied a lot of quilts for herself, her kids and grandkids, and for others through her church.  While I listened to my student's speech, I had the tightness in my stomach and the burning in the back of my eyes that always prefaces a powerful emotional reaction.  As she showed different quilting frames, I thought of the plans that Mom had been making for this past summer to set up her quilting frame in the basement and teaching my girls how to tie quilts.  The quilt tops are finished, and I should tie them w/ the girls to carry out Mom's plans. 

In Mom's sewing room there's hundreds of quilt squares in all sizes, colors, and patterns that Mom cut out....probably during the winters while Dad was watching TV.  Someone should turn all those squares into quilt tops.  I don't know if I have it in me, both ability and stability.  In a frame, also in her sewing room, Mom kept a partial quilt top that her mom had started.  I think she found it to be a special connection that she shared w/ the mother she never knew.  I feel like I need to do something w/ all the quilt tops and squares to keep that connection w/ my mom.  Maybe that should be my project for my second year of mourning.

Tuesday, 09 November 2010 -- Day 324 (337)

In the midst of feeling like I'm cursed, I learned yesterday that my brother Ron is marrying his partner of 30+ years this Friday.  So, Ron, if you're reading this.......I'll be at your house.....Friday at 5:30.....camera in hand!  Ever since Iowa made same-sex marriage legal a couple of years ago, he and Dan have talked about getting married.  And now that Iowa voters chose to get rid of three of the Iowa Supreme Court Justices, the future of the same-sex marriage law is uncertain.  I'm not sure if this is their reasoning for tieing the knot now.  Actually, they should've been considered common-law decades ago, but I won't pursue that path here.  I'm just so happy for him.  And that happiness supercedes all bad luck. 

Monday, 08 November 2010 -- Day 323 (336)

Remember that skit on Hee Haw where they sang, "If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all.  Gloom, despair, and agony on me."  That's the way I was feeling today.  Had another "discussion" w/ Kenzie, Maddy is grounded, Dad's regretting having had cataract surgery, Doug started a new job but won't get paid until the end of the month, the boat motor blew up.....again, and Kea has fleas.  Oh, and Mom is still dead.  Very depressing day.  It was funny to listen to others' misery on the Hee Haw skit....I'm not laughing now.

Sunday, 07 November 2010 -- Day 322 (335)

Kenzie mentioned tonight that she's looking forward to Thanksgiving.  It's nice to hear that's she's anticipating something, and especially nice that's it's something that involves family.  In the past, we've gone to Doug's side of the family from the night before Thanksgiving until the day after then we'd head to my family.  We altered that routine last year since we only went to Mom and Dad's.  Kenzie's comment means she's looking forward to a return to tradition.  But it won't be a complete return.  I've asked Dad what he wants to do, but he's really avoiding making a decision.  I think Thanksgiving will be the hardest for him b/c it was the last holiday that Mom was with us.  Two weeks later she was gone.  How will I measure time after the year of this blog is done?  Most of my entries have been about times past or times to come.  Maybe when this blog is over I'll start writing about present times?

A high school friend's daughter is getting married.  Plans will be made.   Time will be counted down until "the big day."  We mark time by these kinds of events.  We all do it.  Then the wedding will be marked by anniversaries and then children will enter the picture for whom all kinds of events will be marked.  I hope they all focus on the process leading up to these events.  The journey is longer than the end result so it makes sense that we should focus on what we do to get there, not on actually reaching it.  I think there should be an event known as "Happy Next Day of Your Life."  After all, every day is the next day until it's not.  But most days get lost marking time for the next event.  Breathing is a big event.  I'm just going to look forward to my next breath.

Saturday, 06 November 2010 -- Day 321 (334)

Mom's voice is still in my head, or maybe she was actually beside me today while I was cleaning and Maddy was baking b/c I had answers to questions before I even realized what I was saying.  For example, Maddy was having difficulty spreading the chocolate chip bars on the baking sheet so I told her to use the back side of a wooden spoon.  How on earth did I know that?  After the bars were done, she wanted to frost them and use tubes of colored frosting so she could write a message.  The frosting was hard so I told her to put the tubes in a bowl of very hot water to soften them up.  It worked.  But how did I know that it would work? 

I washed a few windows today.  I usually use a Trasan rag that my mother-in-law gave me, but all of them were dirty,  Then I heard a voice in my head say, "White vinegar and ammonia will leave your windows streak-free."  Either I was really listening all those times that Mom instructed me on how to do things, or she's walking beside me helping me answer questions and solve problems.  Either way it's nice to know that I'm not going-it alone.

Friday, 05 November 2010 -- Day 320 (333)

We don't any of us go through the mourning process alone.  That's important to remember.  We help each other mourn.  Ultimately, yes, it's our gig, but I couldn't do this w/o friends and family.  And I hope that I'm helping them go through this as well.  Sometimes, however, I get so engrossed in my own grief that I forget that I have to help my daughters through this process too.  I tried again today by telling them something that Mom always used to say to me.  Before I tell this story, keep in mind that Mom never considered the word, shit, to be profanity.....to her it was a bodily function.  So today after someone left one of the bathrooms especially stinky, I was reminded of a time when I made a crass remark to my brother David after he left the basement bathroom in a similar manner.  She said to me, "Are you so sweet that your shit doesn't stink?"  So I said this to my daughters this afternoon, and then I asked, "Does that sound like something Grandma would've said."  We all laughed and agreed that it did. 

As trivial as this sounds, the moment was monumental.  Neither Kenzie or Maddy has wanted to talk much about Grandma Miller so I think if I just give them little tidbits of her periodically, they can come to terms w/ their loss in their own time.  Baby steps.  You can't walk until you're ready, and no one starts out running.  I'll teach my girls to take baby steps so in time they'll be running.

Thursday, 04 November 2010 -- Day 319 (332)

I wouldn't say I'm a slave to fashion, but I like to look nice w/o spending a lot of money to do so.  My frugality is undoubtedly part of my Dutch heritage, which I inherited from Mom.  Growing up, most of my clothes, pajamas, swimsuits were made by her.  Yes, even swimsuits.  The one I still remember was a two piece that actually covered my mid-section.  The top half hung loosely over my middle and was made out of a white eyelet material.  I'm pretty sure it was lined.  Not that a 10-year-old has much to reveal.  Mom was an extremely talented seamstress, but when you're 10, fashion is more important than frugality.  This was about the same time that the jeans w/ the double zippers were in-style.  The cool girls in my school had them so naturally I wanted a pair too....not b/c I was one of them but b/c I aspired to be one of them.  I don't remember what they cost, but whatever it was, it was too expensive so Mom made me a pair.  They looked pretty close to the store-bought style, and I wore them, but they just weren't as cool as the "real" ones.  Homemade and hand-me-downs were my style.............not much has changed.

Wednesday, 03 November 2010 -- Day 318 (331)

I've noticed lately than when people ask me, "How are you doing," I've been able to truthfully reply, "Fine, thanks."  Many times I've used this same reply simply b/c I know the person asking really doesn't want to hear how I'm actually feeling, and I don't always want to go into the truth.  It's easier just to say, "fine" and move on.  When I was growing up, my aunt Adelyn would call our house several times a week.  If I answered the phone, she'd ask me how I was doing, and I always said, "Fine."  One time she commented on that I was always so cheerful.  I think that was my first glimpse into how much our moods and attitudes can influence and affect others.  I've never been much of a complainer so it never crossed my mind to say anything else, no matter how I was really feeling. But for now it's nice that I can say, "I'm doing fine," and mean it. In American Sign Language when some asks, "How are you?"  If you want to say "Fine," you spread out your fingers and tap your thumb to your chest twice, as if to say, "My heart is whole."

Tuesday, 02 November 2010 -- Day 317 (330)

I submitted the following article for consideration to a new magazine called Voices that will come out next summer.  I don't think I'm breaking any regulations for publishing it here since it hasn't been accepted.  I've proposed this as a four-part series so if by some chance this first piece is accepted, you'll have to read the others in the magazine.  If it's not accepted, I'll publish the other three articles here at a later date.  For now, this is part one of A Life With "Ologists." 


 A Life with “Ologists”


Part One

By Mari Miller Burns





Stop me if you’ve heard this one. What do a gynecologist, oncologist, dermatologist, ophthalmologist, cardiologist, neurologist, urologist, pulmonologist, and gastroenterologist have in common? Me. I have had the pleasure of seeing each one of these specialists either for myself, my mother, or my daughter over the last 42 years.

We’ll start w/ my mom. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 1968 when I was four and she was 38. Enter the gynecologist and oncologist. She had a complete hysterectomy, which she came through fine, but after she returned home, a blood clot travelled from her leg to her lung sending her back to the hospital. All total she was in the hospital for about four weeks. My main recollection during this time was confusion as to why I couldn’t see her. At that time, children weren’t allowed to visit patients on the floors, even if it was a parent. I was shuffled among family and friends while Dad worked during the day and visited Mom in the hospital at night. I remember falling asleep most nights on someone’s couch only to wake in my own bed the next morning. No one told me where Mom was, or what was happening to her. No one tried to reassure me that she would be okay and would be home soon. Maybe they didn’t think she would and didn’t want to get my hopes up. I think anything would’ve been better than my silent confusion. My sister was 10, but no one had bothered to tell her anything either. When I was finally allowed to see her, it was just a few days before she was released to go home. All I remember of that time is standing beside her bed sobbing because I had at last found her, and I couldn’t even sit on her lap or give her a hug.

At that time we had no health insurance, few people did, or at least it wasn’t something I recall hearing about. Maybe others did, and we were just too poor. Dad had started working for the city the year I was born, but either they didn’t provide health insurance, or cancer wasn’t covered. Mom made arrangements with the doctors and the hospital to make monthly payments. She always told me, “Even if you can only pay a few dollars each month, at least they know you’re trying.” I know friends, family, and our community helped out with monetary donations, and when I started school in 1969, my sister and I were given free lunch tickets. I always thought it was cool that I could trade-in my crinkled, used lunch ticket, and the school’s secretary would give me a crisp, new one. My sister was horrified. I guess 11-year-olds have more pride than five-year-olds.

The biggest impact Mom’s first cancer had on me was the difficulty I faced starting Kindergarten. I didn’t want to go. I was afraid that Mom would be gone again by the time school was out. Even though I only went to school every-other-day, I dreaded the days that she would walk me to school. On each of those days she’d leave me crying at the door of my classroom. She told me years later that she cried all the way home too, but my crying didn’t stop after she left. I cried for hours. I remember my teacher taking me in the back room where we kept our coats and telling me that I had to stop carrying on. It didn’t help. Finally, she asked my mom permission to spank me to get me to stop crying. Mom agreed. I only recall one spanking so I guess it worked, but I think for the wrong reasons. I stopped crying because I feared the spanking more than I feared Mom going away again. I can only wonder how that episode would’ve played out if someone had just sat my little five-year-old-self down and talked about what was going on with my mom and my worries and my fears.

If someone had talked to me, maybe I wouldn’t have felt like I had to be my mother’s protector. Since the blood clot had travelled from her leg, the doctors told her she was not to cross her legs. I don’t know how I knew this, or if any one charged me with this duty, but I was vigilante in making sure Mom didn’t cross her legs. I can recall times sitting at her feet and uncrossing her crossed leg while I listened to her talk about how she had to swallow radioactive gold and then lie on a table, turning every 15 minutes. I had no idea what radioactive gold was, but it sounded rich, and maybe my sister wouldn’t be embarrassed any more about getting free lunch tickets. The irony of that gold was that it’s probably what led to the leukemia 40 years later, but that’s for another story.

Monday, 01 November 2010 -- Day 316 (329)

I was out of line w/ last night's post and would like to post a retraction.  I shouldn't have been so hard on Dad.  After all, when I wasn't feeling well, I wanted Mom so it's only fair that he should be more needy too.  He saw his local eye doctor today, and she gave him very positive feedback so that eased his mind some.  There's not a more lonesome feeling on this earth than to be sick and feel there's no one to care for you.