I can't believe it's been over a week since I posted an entry onto this blog. I've felt guilty about it but but I've been so sick that writing was the last thing on my mind.
Unfortunately, I came down with the flu. It has not been a fun week, to say the least! Although I tried to prevent this miserable malady by obtaining a flu shot last October, an alternative strain invaded my body. How lucky for the virus; how unlucky for me! Thankfully, I have a wonderful, loving husband who gave me the best care I could have ever wished for, without a single complaint on his part. What would I have done without him? I'm so glad I don't have to know.
My body was probably vulnerable due to all of the stress I endured these past few months. As you all know, December was a particularly 'bad' month for me. Shortly after the first of the year, when all of the holiday hoopla was over, my immune system seemingly just gave out. My body and brain needed a rest. I admit it: if I hadn't felt so sick I might have even enjoyed staying in bed. As it was, I couldn't wait to feel well enough to get out of it!
Now, in only a few short days I leave for Arizona again. This Saturday, in fact. Although I'm looking forward to seeing my father and my other relatives who live there, I have a lot of anxiety about the trip. For one, it is gong to be very unsettling to walk into my 'parent's' house for the first time since my mother died there. I know everything will be just as I left it on December 5th. My eyes will likely focus on my mother's favorite chair the moment I walk in the wooden front door. The chair that she died in. I'm hoping I can somehow take comfort in it. Perhaps I'll be able to sit there late one night in the desert darkness to feel her presence: a good thing.
I doubt if my father has removed Mom's 'perfect' Christmas tree from the fireplace hearth. This will probably be one of the first things I must do. Perhaps I'll turn on the creamy, white lights one last time; hoping to see the perfectly shaped tree through my mother's former eyes. She enjoyed it for such a short time but I know it meant a great deal to her. I often wonder if she knew she'd never live to actually see it on Christmas day? I guess it doesn't matter. The fact that she did see it, and was able to submerge herself it all it's newness and grace is what matters to me now.
It will be difficult to 'remove' much of my mother's entity from the house that now belongs only to my father. After all, they shared this home for over twenty years. A lot of my mother remains there. Like most married couple's homes, it has the woman's 'touch' throughout each and every room. From the outside front door to the back yard gardens, much of my mother lingers there. Somehow God will give me the strength to do what needs to be done. God and my sister, Brenda. She will be there to help me as she was in the past. Together, we will get through it.
Life goes on.......
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Unwanted Decisions
I haven't posted an entry since the first day of the year. Forgive me. I know I'm behind. I guess I've felt a little depressed lately. Actually, there's no 'guessing' involved. I have felt depressed lately! I've accepted my mother's death, but I still yearn to call her: to speak to her on the telephone like we were able to do only weeks ago.
Although I no longer physically reach for the telephone, there are many instances when I find myself wanting to call her. This may be instinct that comes from living so far apart during the last twenty years. Because of the physical distance between us, I didn't get to see my mother very often. The telephone was our stable means of communication. We'd often call each other at least a couple of times a week. Sometimes it was more frequent, depending on what was happening in our respective lives.
The first two days of January were the most difficult for me. My mind urged me to pick up the phone several times throughout the weekend. It was almost as if I had forgotten Mom was gone. Was it because it was a brand new year? Did my brain 'forget' the past? I can't even begin to count the number of times I thought of telephoning her. I wanted to 'just talk.' I wanted to tell her how well Jayson was doing after his trials of the previous week. I wanted to talk to her about Justin coming down with the flu. I wanted to tell her how much I missed her and loved her. There were so many things I wanted to talk to her about. This yearning went on for about two or three days before my mind was suddenly snapped back to reality.
My father called and briefly mentioned cleaning out my mother's closet again. I didn't know what to say to him. Would I make him cry if I told him of my feelings? Not wanting to take the chance, I changed the subject. I'm not really sure what I ended up talking to him about but it wasn't my mother's closet. Perhaps I'm the one whose not ready to discuss this most delicate of subjects? My mother's closet holds the very last 'essence' of her. The clean scent of her soap and sweet smell of her face cream have long been embedded within Mom's clothing. Her assortment of dresses, sweaters, blouses and slacks hang from their rods untouched and alone now.
Together with Mother's closet, I know there are many other jobs waiting for me to take care of when I return to Arizona. I'm glad my sister, Brenda will be there to help me: physically and emotionally. My mother's 'side' of the bathroom needs to be cleaned out too. Her personal items are waiting to be sorted through and removed. I can picture Mom's combs still grasping precious strands of her wavy, brown hair between their silver metal teeth. Visions of her make-up brushes all dusted with rosy blush and loose finishing powders are resting in a vinyl case nearby. Tubes of Mom's favorite coral lipsticks and pink sponge rollers share drawer space together with daily personal items and soft delicate wash cloths. And under Mom's sink: a standing assortment of body lotions, cans of hair spray, bottles of shampoo, and cleaning products. Everything must be sorted and removed.
Unwanted decisions for me to make.
Although I no longer physically reach for the telephone, there are many instances when I find myself wanting to call her. This may be instinct that comes from living so far apart during the last twenty years. Because of the physical distance between us, I didn't get to see my mother very often. The telephone was our stable means of communication. We'd often call each other at least a couple of times a week. Sometimes it was more frequent, depending on what was happening in our respective lives.
The first two days of January were the most difficult for me. My mind urged me to pick up the phone several times throughout the weekend. It was almost as if I had forgotten Mom was gone. Was it because it was a brand new year? Did my brain 'forget' the past? I can't even begin to count the number of times I thought of telephoning her. I wanted to 'just talk.' I wanted to tell her how well Jayson was doing after his trials of the previous week. I wanted to talk to her about Justin coming down with the flu. I wanted to tell her how much I missed her and loved her. There were so many things I wanted to talk to her about. This yearning went on for about two or three days before my mind was suddenly snapped back to reality.
My father called and briefly mentioned cleaning out my mother's closet again. I didn't know what to say to him. Would I make him cry if I told him of my feelings? Not wanting to take the chance, I changed the subject. I'm not really sure what I ended up talking to him about but it wasn't my mother's closet. Perhaps I'm the one whose not ready to discuss this most delicate of subjects? My mother's closet holds the very last 'essence' of her. The clean scent of her soap and sweet smell of her face cream have long been embedded within Mom's clothing. Her assortment of dresses, sweaters, blouses and slacks hang from their rods untouched and alone now.
Together with Mother's closet, I know there are many other jobs waiting for me to take care of when I return to Arizona. I'm glad my sister, Brenda will be there to help me: physically and emotionally. My mother's 'side' of the bathroom needs to be cleaned out too. Her personal items are waiting to be sorted through and removed. I can picture Mom's combs still grasping precious strands of her wavy, brown hair between their silver metal teeth. Visions of her make-up brushes all dusted with rosy blush and loose finishing powders are resting in a vinyl case nearby. Tubes of Mom's favorite coral lipsticks and pink sponge rollers share drawer space together with daily personal items and soft delicate wash cloths. And under Mom's sink: a standing assortment of body lotions, cans of hair spray, bottles of shampoo, and cleaning products. Everything must be sorted and removed.
Unwanted decisions for me to make.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Happy 2011!
It's a New Year. Thank God!
Yesterday, since it was New Year's Eve we stayed at home to relax and watch some television. Suddenly, emergency weather warnings appeared on television sets all across Missouri.
St. Louis seemed to be right in the path of numerous tornadoes!
Ironically, our oldest son, Jayson was recently hired by The National Weather Service. It is his dream job, and has been his most reverent goal since he was barely six years old. Jayson literally knew almost from his first day of kindergarten that he wanted to be a 'weatherman.' He never changed his mind.
Unfortunately, Jayson hadn't started his new job yet. Instead, he was working at a temporary position where he sold custom suits from a store within a retail strip-mall. Upon watching the path of storms and possible tornadoes, we called Jayson on his cell phone. We needed to warn him of the impending danger. If he had been home, he would have been glued to his computer, taking delight in studying the various graphs and weather patterns.
"Jay, you'd better take cover. Tornadoes may be headed right for you!" Gary shouted into the phone. "Our lights just went out," Jayson replied. "I can't see anything."
Gary told him to grab his dog, Nimbus, together with his food and head for the safest place in his building: a metal desk near the center of the store. We kept contact with him by phone and soon heard noisy whooshes of wind gusts, debris cashing to the floor, and the proverbial sound of an approaching 'freight train.'
"It looks like a war zone," Jayson told us.
Jayson's own parking lot was now full of downed fir, oak and maple trees; overturned cars and trucks; twisted metal signs and shattered glass. His 2010 rental car (newly acquired since his accident only ten days earlier) sat upright, but was profoundly damaged. Incredulously, nature's random path of the tornado spared him. If his store had been on the other side of the street, I shudder to think of what might have happened to him. His dwelling had no basement. Instead, my son, the newly graduated meteorologist had just survived the devastation of an F-3 (on a scale of 0-5) tornado with estimated 170 mile per hour winds. Ironically, Jayson was directly in the heart of it!
As I look back on 2010, it seems it was one of the worst I can ever remember living through. I am glad for the new year to finally be here! Great hope for the future in 2011 is not wasted upon me. Last year is one I don't ever wish to repeat in quite the same way.
For example, last January I endured painful shoulder surgery. In February my younger son's fiancee broke off their engagement (hurting him and worrying me). I learned in May (near Mother's Day), the devastating news of my mother's lung cancer diagnosis. In late July I fell off a horse named 'Monster.' From his given name I should have known better before I saddled up! I fell seven feet to the ground, flat on my back: breaking a rib and compressing two discs in my spine.
In the middle of November I became Mom's caretaker until she sadly passed away a few days before Thanksgiving. Just before Christmas, on December 21st, Jayson was in a terrible car accident. And, finally, (yesterday) the very last day of the year, Jayson lived through the midst of a devastating tornado! Later, I learned that Justin had a horrible asthma attack. His asthma has been in remission for a few years, so he hasn't filled his inhaler prescriptions in quite some time. By the grace of God he found an old 'rescue' inhaler while frantically rummaging through his drawers. The use of it allowed him to breathe again: our most precious commodity.
The above seems more like the trappings of an impossible novel than that of my real life! Still, when all is said and done I am grateful. Grateful for the glimpses of goodness I find veiled throughout 2010. Although I lost my dear mother during this last year, I know in my heart and soul that she is forever with me. I see her throughout the many facets of my life: good and bad.
One can always look at the glass half-empty or half-full. I prefer to think of the 'many glasses' I have lived through during 2010 as half-full. To that end, I did survive all of last year's adversity. Together with my husband and my two sons, we are all happy and alive. Is there anything more important? I think not.
Not so long ago, upon my mother's passing, I prayed for her to watch over my two boys. I asked God to hold Mom lovingly in His arms and allow her to be their guardian angel. I have no doubt that He has answered my prayers. My mother is watching over both of them: perhaps sitting upon their shoulders with a smile. I am sure of it.
Happy 2011.
Yesterday, since it was New Year's Eve we stayed at home to relax and watch some television. Suddenly, emergency weather warnings appeared on television sets all across Missouri.
St. Louis seemed to be right in the path of numerous tornadoes!
Ironically, our oldest son, Jayson was recently hired by The National Weather Service. It is his dream job, and has been his most reverent goal since he was barely six years old. Jayson literally knew almost from his first day of kindergarten that he wanted to be a 'weatherman.' He never changed his mind.
Unfortunately, Jayson hadn't started his new job yet. Instead, he was working at a temporary position where he sold custom suits from a store within a retail strip-mall. Upon watching the path of storms and possible tornadoes, we called Jayson on his cell phone. We needed to warn him of the impending danger. If he had been home, he would have been glued to his computer, taking delight in studying the various graphs and weather patterns.
"Jay, you'd better take cover. Tornadoes may be headed right for you!" Gary shouted into the phone. "Our lights just went out," Jayson replied. "I can't see anything."
Gary told him to grab his dog, Nimbus, together with his food and head for the safest place in his building: a metal desk near the center of the store. We kept contact with him by phone and soon heard noisy whooshes of wind gusts, debris cashing to the floor, and the proverbial sound of an approaching 'freight train.'
"It's coming Dad," Jayson said. Not surprisingly, his voice was filled more with concerned excitement, rather than worry. He was not afraid. Soon his phone line went dead. We could do nothing but wait. In the interim, we called our youngest son, Justin to take cover. The dreadful weather was headed his way too.
About ten minutes later Jayson was able to call us back. He was fine, but shocked by what surrounded him. He described the strong smell of gas, and his storefront windows that had seemingly exploded. Shards of broken glass littered the outside pavement. Scattered directly across the street (mere yards from where he stood) were mounds of heaping wood and numerous piles of debris. Homes that stately stood erect only a few minutes earlier, were now gone. Jayson described families who literally rose from their respective basement stairways only to discover a home that no longer existed."It looks like a war zone," Jayson told us.
Jayson's own parking lot was now full of downed fir, oak and maple trees; overturned cars and trucks; twisted metal signs and shattered glass. His 2010 rental car (newly acquired since his accident only ten days earlier) sat upright, but was profoundly damaged. Incredulously, nature's random path of the tornado spared him. If his store had been on the other side of the street, I shudder to think of what might have happened to him. His dwelling had no basement. Instead, my son, the newly graduated meteorologist had just survived the devastation of an F-3 (on a scale of 0-5) tornado with estimated 170 mile per hour winds. Ironically, Jayson was directly in the heart of it!
As I look back on 2010, it seems it was one of the worst I can ever remember living through. I am glad for the new year to finally be here! Great hope for the future in 2011 is not wasted upon me. Last year is one I don't ever wish to repeat in quite the same way.
For example, last January I endured painful shoulder surgery. In February my younger son's fiancee broke off their engagement (hurting him and worrying me). I learned in May (near Mother's Day), the devastating news of my mother's lung cancer diagnosis. In late July I fell off a horse named 'Monster.' From his given name I should have known better before I saddled up! I fell seven feet to the ground, flat on my back: breaking a rib and compressing two discs in my spine.
In the middle of November I became Mom's caretaker until she sadly passed away a few days before Thanksgiving. Just before Christmas, on December 21st, Jayson was in a terrible car accident. And, finally, (yesterday) the very last day of the year, Jayson lived through the midst of a devastating tornado! Later, I learned that Justin had a horrible asthma attack. His asthma has been in remission for a few years, so he hasn't filled his inhaler prescriptions in quite some time. By the grace of God he found an old 'rescue' inhaler while frantically rummaging through his drawers. The use of it allowed him to breathe again: our most precious commodity.
The above seems more like the trappings of an impossible novel than that of my real life! Still, when all is said and done I am grateful. Grateful for the glimpses of goodness I find veiled throughout 2010. Although I lost my dear mother during this last year, I know in my heart and soul that she is forever with me. I see her throughout the many facets of my life: good and bad.
One can always look at the glass half-empty or half-full. I prefer to think of the 'many glasses' I have lived through during 2010 as half-full. To that end, I did survive all of last year's adversity. Together with my husband and my two sons, we are all happy and alive. Is there anything more important? I think not.
Not so long ago, upon my mother's passing, I prayed for her to watch over my two boys. I asked God to hold Mom lovingly in His arms and allow her to be their guardian angel. I have no doubt that He has answered my prayers. My mother is watching over both of them: perhaps sitting upon their shoulders with a smile. I am sure of it.
Happy 2011.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)