The Idea That Won't Die

05.12.2011

Back in 2008 I had an idea for a medication calendar aimed at those in Hospice care. The idea has stayed in my head, bouncing to the forefront on occasion. Lately the idea has lent itself to how best to help groups of caregivers that may be spread out (i.e. not living in the same house). While researching this I cam across Lotsa Helping Hands, primarily an online calendar for scheduling caregivers along with some other nice features.

I really like this idea - plus they've been providing this service (free of charge!) since 2004. I wish I had known about it when Mom was sick. It's a beautiful concept and wonderful tool for those that need it, and for those that don't know they need it yet.

My idea is still bouncing around. Lotsa Helping Hands has a lot of what I want my idea to become, but there's still a couple of holes that need to be filled.


mom random

Forty Dos minus a Day

03.03.2011

Tomorrow I turn 42. I've got nothing planned outside of taking off work. Maybe I can work up the gumption to get the oil changed in the Explorer and put together some shelves/cabinets I got for the garage. Gina's going to cook dinner (pecan crusted Tilapia and asparagus) and we'll probably watch one of the DVDs that I got this week. Overall it's going to be just another day.

I blame part of that on me getting a little sinus infection earlier in the week. I went home after lunch on Monday and drugged myself up (yay Sudafed!) and slept a whole lot. Right now I'm feeling better - it's the first day this week I haven't felt a need to take a nap.

The one birthday tradition I miss is going to see Mom. I'm not sure when I started taking the day to go see here, but I wish I had started doing it sooner, regardless. The first year I went to see her we ended up at the outlet mall in Lebanon (Tennessee) and I got a set of dishes - plates, bowls, some tea glasses. I know I've had that set for 4 or 5 years now at least. Most of the time we would go over to the outlet mall and walk around. For fun we would end up in the KB Toys store and Mom would ask if there was anything I wanted. As much as I believe Christmas and birthdays should have a toy involved, the KB never had anything worthwhile so I always passed.


mom random

Belated Mothers Day

05.11.2010

This year was the second in a row I managed to have Gina away from home on Mothers Day as we were at scenic Orange Beach/Gulf Shores on Sunday. Last year I had her on a plan as we made our way to Jamaica. I think those 2 would qualify as extremes of the beach.

Somewhere along the way on the trip down to the Gulf, Gina and I started talking about Old Time Pottery, which I always call Old Time Pottery Barn. I know it's wrong, but after the first one showed up in Madison I called it that for a month and it's just sort of stuck ever since. I've been in Old Time Pottery Barn once, with Mom a few years ago. We went after Mom had been diagnoses with breast cancer but before she had started any chemo - it was at the time when they had told her "We're going to do what we can to fight it, but we're going to do everything we can to make you comfortable." When the doctors tell you that you're pretty much screwed it's hard to be upbeat about anything from that point on.

Luckily, mine and Mom's relationship didn't steer toward focusing on the bad parts of life. I've been told for years that I'm a happy, upbeat guy, and I'll admit that started with Mom. Looking back over the years a lot of things never really went right, but at the time I didn't know it. With that said, let's go back to the Old Time Pottery Barn.

Mom's final wishes were to be cremated. Since we were in a store full of pottery, I grabbed Mom's hand and told her we needed to find her a good pot for her ashes. After all, if she's going to be spending eternity someplace she should enjoy it. I would go around the store and pick up a vase of some type and hold it up to show her and ask "How's this?" Mom would look at it, the I would lower it to look in the top and then say into it, in a loud, deep voice, "Mommmmmmmmmm".

The first time Mom looked at me as if to say "What the hell are you doing?", so I had to explain to her that if she was going to be sitting on a shelf I would have to talk to her every once in a while, so how does my voice sound in this one? Mommmmmmmmm.

It was one of those times I was just being myself that looking back means so many more things. We both knew she was going to die, not how soon or far away but that it was sooner rather than later. We weren't dwelling on how bad it was, but rather accepting it and moving on (well, sort of moving on. Maybe just accepting it is ok). I think she also saw that I wasn't going to forget about her. All of this also meant I wasn't afraid to act a fool inside Old Time Pottery Barn with Mom watching.

This was the story I told Gina while we were driving to the beach, about me going around to pots and saying "Mommmmmm". Somehow that's all it took and both Gina and I were crying, because it hit me again that I still miss Mom. Maybe it was the closeness of Mother's Day. Maybe it was because it's been a year since her funeral. Maybe it was just a little bit of it all put together.

"Mommmmmmmmmm" :)


mom

63

01.05.2010

Today would have been Mom's 63rd birthday.

Last year I wrote Mom a note and sent it up with a balloon. I liked the feeling of that, so I had planned another balloon for this year. I stopped by Party City once again and got another balloon. When I got home, I thought about writing a note but didn't. Then I went outside and let the balloon go.


As the balloon went up, East this year instead of West, I talked to Mom a little. I still miss her, I just don't feel it as much - that emptiness that she's not here. Since my last dream with Mom it seems I've reached that stage, whatever it may be called, to where the pain of her being gone doesn't creep up and catch me off guard. Originally I thought I would have been at that point a year ago, and now that I'm at that point it strikes me as a little odd. Not odd in a bad way, just me being overly analytical.

I mentioned to Gina over the weekend that we're about due a weekend getaway trip to Nashville since we hadn't been in a while. In fact, I don't remember us being since Mom died. Gina told me she hadn't wanted to mention going because she was afraid that it would stir up some bad memories. While I appreciate and understand that, I don't have any bad memories of Mom. I'm sure there are some lurking around, but I remember the good times and the happy times. Those are the kinds of stories I still tell about her.

Over Christmas I ventured to Florence to visit grandparents and got a small stack of old pictures. Some of Mom, some of me (I used to be a lot smaller evidently). Below is a pic from Christmas 1986. I'm not sure what Mom is telling MawMaw, but I don't think she's going to give in.

In case you're curious, the box in the lower left hand corner of the pop-up is The Gilligan's Island Game, which I mainly remember for the slot a - slot b board that you got to put together that made running through the island so much fun.


mom

Talking to Mom

11.15.2009


Mom, Xmas '99


The above picture is how Mom is when I think of her, which can be taken in lots of ways, most of which are true. The above was 9 years before she died from cancer, before the chemo, before her hair had fallen out (mostly twice), before she had gotten weak and frail. Those were the parts that Mom was afraid of when she was first diagnosed, not that all of that would happen, but the way people might look at her, pity her. I guess it makes me feel good that the Mom I remember is the vibrant one that I grew up with.

I have been thinking about Mom a lot over the past month to month and a half. I'm not really sure why she's been on my mind more than normal. My emotions have been a little harder to control too, so maybe I'll just check it off to hormones. I had a couple of dreams with Mom in them, which I haven't had since she died last December. Various people have told me of having a "good-bye dream" after someone close dies. I hadn't really thought of it, but I hadn't had such a dream even though I hadn't really been expecting it.

Dream #1 was about 2 weeks ago. I was at Dad's and he was having a cookout. This was at Dad's current house with his current wife, with kids and grandkids cavorting about in the yard. I was inside in the kitchen washing something at the sink - not sure if it was my hands or a dish. I looked out the kitchen window into the backyard and saw the aforementioned kids and grandkids cavorting, when I saw Mom walking up (from the left side of the yard, which really has nothing but a big lot of trees) with a casserole dish of potato salad, looking about like she does in the picture up top. I turned off the water and quickly thought, "Hey, Mom's not supposed to be here!" and turned to leave the kitchen. In my dream I paused a step and thought "Wait, there's something else" and that was the end of my dream. As I woke, the dream was fresh and I finished my dream-thought with "... she shouldn't be here because she's dead." It wasn't as morbid as it sounds, just trust me on that one.

3 days later I had another dream. I'm sitting with Mom in what was an amalgamation of all the houses we've lived in. It was primarily the last house in Harvest, and we were sitting at the kitchen table having an argument. The first thing to point out is that Mom and I never argued. We were too passive aggressive for that. Mom still looked like she did around '99, and it looked like I was still living with her and Terry in the house. In the dream, Mom was telling me that we were moving to Minnesota and that it was a good idea because it was going to give us all a chance to start over and it would be a good opportunity for Terry. I was telling her I didn't think it was a good idea. She was telling me it was a good idea. The conversation kept going back and forth like this - neither of us really had a good argument, but that's why it was a dream!

Finally I looked at her and said "Well Mom, I think I'm just going to stay here." She stopped for a second and looked back at me and said "Well, I understand. If that's something you feel you need to do then you need to do it." I then said to her "Well, I think you need to stay too." to which she responded "Well I don't think that's a good idea, I need to go since it's such a good opportunity." and we once again started to go back and forth, this time me trying to convince Mom to stay. About this time, Terry comes in the back door with a vibrant "Honey I'm home/What's for dinner/What's on TV?" with which I give him a quick "Terry can't you see WE'RE TALKING HERE." Terry stopped in the doorway and said "Well. hmph, I can tell when I'm not, hmph." at which point he turned around and left, closing the back door. Mom and I then heard the lawn mower start up.

I turned to look back at Mom and one more time told her I didn't think she should go. She leaned forward in her chair and asked "Well why not?" In any place but my dream this would have been one of the first questions. I leaned forward and put my hand on her knee, and in my dream I suddenly realized why. I looked at her and tried to figure out how to say the following, but it just came right out. "I'm not sure how to tell you this Mom, but... you're dead."

Mom sat up a little straighter and covered her mouth with her hand as she gasped a little. "Oh my" she said. "I knew I had gotten worse, but I didn't know it had gotten that bad." She leaned forward, this time to put her hand on my knee. "Are you doing ok?" I held her hand on my knee as I answered "Yeah, I think so."

The sound of the lawn mower grew louder at this point, and I looked at Mom and said "I should go apologize for yelling at Terry." She nodded, and I went outside to where I saw Terry standing behind a lawn mower with some headphones on. I came up and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. "I'm sorry Terry, I need to apologize" I told him. "Aw, no need for that. The yard needed mowing anyway. Plus, I need to get in and get those bushes trimmed back." And with that Terry went back to his yard work.

I went back inside and talked to Mom some more. I've got no idea what else we talked about, just that we did.

That dream gave me a little closure. Mom and I always talked to each other a lot. Well, a lot for me since I'm generally kind of quiet (I have to force out my extroverted side more than most people imagine). I like to think that we had left nothing unsaid between us. I had even made it a point after she had been diagnosed to make sure I said things I normally might have kept to myself. I've missed talking to Mom. I'm doing a better job of turning to my friends and talking to them to make up for it, and hopefully I'm not a pain in their collective asses when I do it, but I still miss talking to her. I still talk to her when I think about her. Whenever her picture shows up on the website, I'll smile and say "Hi Mom" every time. But now if I need to talk to her, maybe I just need to fall asleep and call her, she's in Minnesota now :)


mom

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