%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  Fibro fog, pain, writing sandwiched in between. Quotes. Sermon notes. Encouragement. |
A Texas Sunrise  A friend, William Taylor, took this picture. He visits Surfside Beach with his dogs almost every morning, watching the sun rise while the dogs prance about at the water's edge. This is only about ten miles from where I lived in Lake Jackson, Texas. Sadly, I only visited this beach about four times in the six years I lived nearby. Each day is a challenge. A challenge to get by without thinking about the fibromyalgia pains. A challenge to stay awake when chronic fatigure wants to take over. And a challenge to navigate through fibro fog. I haven't been writing as much as in the past. For years, I wrote at least 500 words a day. Now, I'm lucky if I write 500 words in month. Sigh. For more information about what my day (or life) is all about with fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, chronic pains, IBS, depression and everything else thrown in, check this out:
|
| ....such a whiner???? This cold or virus or whatever they think I have has really taken its toll on me - and my ability to "always look on the bright side of life" (whistle, whistle, whistle). I'm about to remove my contact lenses and go back to sleep. At least when I'm sleeping, I don't feel the pains. And if I sit up in the recliner I won't be coughing too much and waking myself up. So...off I go. After two hours sleep, the world looks better.  I was reminded of a sales seminar I attended years ago. The speaker said that when he was asked, "How are you?" his response was always, "Unbelievable!" What a cool answer. It could have a good meaning or a bad one. I used a response myself for years. Still do sometimes. When asked, "How are you?" I resond, "Just peachy." |
| I've always been quite a talker. And ever since I could write, I've been doing that almost as much as the talking. So? Right now I can't do much talking. I have a horrible sore throat (more about that later). And talking is pretty much out of the question, since it hurts soooooooooo bad. What I wonder is this. Is the fact that I can't talk affecting whether or not I can write as well? I haven't had much of a desire to write ever since I had to stop using my voice. Hmmm. Or is it just all the drugs I'm taking that makes me not want to write? Good question. Anyway, in my last post I said that I was barfing. Boy did I. Eight times in eight hours. I had a sore throat before all that started, and bringing up all that stomach acid just made my throat raw. Or so I figured. Yesterday about 1 p.m. I lost my voice. And the pain in my throat increased bunches. I tried getting in to see my doctor - or any doctor in her group - but they were busy. So last night after hubby got home from work, he took me to the emergency room. Turns out it's not bacterial. That can be good or bad, depending on how you look at things. If it had been bacterial, I could have taken antibiotics and gotten rid of the sore throat. Since it's viral, they can only treat the symptoms. So I'm taking a killer pain pill to get rid of the throat pain. Gargling salt water. And using throat spray. It still hurts like crazy, but my voice is gradually coming back. I just don't want to talk because it hurts my vocal chords. The good thing is that this pain pill has actually almost taken away all the other pains - in my knees, back, legs, shoulders, etc. Almost. And it's half-way working on the sore throat. It's driving me nuts not to be able to talk and sing and whistle, though. Grrrrrr. Again. |
| Last week, one of my docs decided to change some of my meds and decided that I should be taking Omega 3 fatty oils, folic acid and vitamin B12. I finally got all the prescriptions filled a few days ago and am now taking all of the new meds. I don't know if one or more of them doesn't agree with me. Or if my sensitivity to any drugs has kicked in today, even though I take something for nausea every day. Or if maybe it's just my pain pill that's fighting me today. The manufacturers of my pain pill were rather smart; they put something right in the pill that will make you sick if you take too many. Unfortunately for me with my drug sensitivity, sometimes one is too many. Or maybe I'm getting the flu, since I missed getting my free flu shot at hubby's workplace...because I wasn't feeling wonderful enough to drive the 30 miles that day. Whatever it is, I'm going to have to rest today. I'm hoping that if I cuddle up under the covers I'll stop tossing my cookes. (There really shouldn't be anyting left after four episodes already this morning. Next will be dry heaves.) |
| When Gerald Ford became Vice President, I was 21 years old. When he became President, I was 22. I remember how the media and comedians made fun of him when he slipped on the stairs of Airforce One. I remember them making fun of him when he goofed up playing golf. I didn't remember that he had been a star athlete. Perhaps I never really knew. I remember that he pardoned Nixon. How could I forget that, since it caused such an uproar. Last night as I listened to why he did that, it made sense to me. He wanted the chance for the country to go on to other things and for himself to do Presidential things. What surprised me this morning, though, was that first speech Gerald Ford made after becoming President. I don't remember that at all. He said he wanted to be the President for everyone - black and white, rich and poor, feminist and male chauvinist, Christian, Jew and atheist. Then he said, "If there are any atheists left after what we've been through." And then he asked for the prayers of his countrymen. I really don't remember that at all. But I think it's because those words, the asking of everyone's prayers was not an unusual thing back then. Yes, prayers had been taken out of schools. But still most people attended some kind of worship service. President Ford knew that most folks believed in God and prayed. Today, folks get angry at President Bush for invoking the name of God or for quoting Scripture. But in the 70's that was not something that made folks angry. It was a normal part of every day life, even (or especially) in the life of our President. Somewhere between 1974 and today, politicians have either stopped going to church or started doing so secretly - in case it might offend their constituents. I'm sorry, President Ford, that I didn't remember any of that first speech you gave as President. But I won't forget it now. Now it stands out because it's something different. Something not everyone would be brave enough to say or ask. Last night and this morning, the news media and people who knew you best talked about what a nice man you were and how you were able to help our country heal. I'm certain that your faith was instrumental in that. I wish I had heard that speech when you made it so many years ago. But I'm glad I heard it now. Rest in peace, Gerald Ford. |
| Merry Christmas! We exchanged gifts yesterday. Incurable Romantic   's daughter, Tiffany, was with us for the weekend, but she had to head on home on Sunday afternoon. On Saturday, we visited a no-kill animal shelter and selected a kitty who is about 10 months old. Her name is Opera, but Tiff and my son think that Oprah sounds better. She surely is full of energy. We thought that since our other cat (about 4 or 5 years old) had started acting playful and "kitten-y" the past few weeks that she would welcome some younger company. Not yet. Right now she's practicing hissing. I guess only time will tell if they'll become friends or just learn to tolerate each other. Today the kitten has been responding to the hissing with her own little growl. On Sunday, Jim, Tiff and I attended church together. Then we ate and opened packages. Soon it was time for Tiff to go home. Our weekends with her just seem so short. Sunday evening we went to our Christmas Eve service. Jim played his cello in two of the songs. Bless his heart. He hasn't played in probably 40 years, but he did well. A bit of stage fright, probably. And I'm betting if he's going to participate often in the praise team, he might just need a pair of trifocals. I think the music is just out of range for either the distance or close-up part of his bifocals. Today the weather is cold and rainy. That's not exactly what you expect from Christmas in Ohio. But we're not alone in strange weather. My sister - the one in northern Michigan - informed me that this was the first year since she's been there (over 20 years) that they didn't have a white Christmas. The rain and gloomy sky made me quite tired this afternoon, and I fell asleep while watching TV with hubby. We were watching a show on HGTV about Christmas celebrations and decorations in the warmer parts of the U.S. It brought back fond memories of how we tried to make Christmas more festive when I lived in Texas and Florida...and the December 25 temperatures were in the 70's. Most of the lights and yard decorations were rather tacky. At least I thought so. And that's probably why I fell asleep in the chair with the new purring machine on my lap. I decided to check my emails and see if anything exciting was happening here at WDC. In doing that, I ran across a website: http://www.unitedstatesartists.org They quoted a study by Urban Institute, Investing in Creativity: A Study of the Support Structure for U.S. Artists (2003), and Rand Research in the Arts, Gifts of the Muse: Reframing the Debate about the Benefits of the Arts (2004). What I found interesting - and most likely true from my experiences of having people tell me that one cannot make a living out of painting, sculpting, or writing - was that 96% of Americans said they were inspired by and highly valued art in their lives and communities. Oddly, though, Americans do not value the artists. Only 27% believed that artists contribute "a lot" to the good of society. That is strange, indeed. Our fellow citizens value art, but not the act of creating that art. Here's a quote from the web page referenced above: "Further interview data from the study reflects a strong sentiment in the cultural community that society does not value art-making as legitimate work worthy of compensation. Many perceive the making of art as a frivolous or recreational pursuit." I guess I shouldn't be surprised by these statistics. After all, supposedly over 85% of Americans believe in God. But many of them don't want anyone talking about it. |
| Mary Crowley was the founder of a home party plan called Home Interiors. I never worked for Home Interiors, but I did work in the home party business for many years. I purchased many of Mary Crowley's books because she was a wise woman, in both life matters and business matters. And she was a devout Christian. In my files, I have quite a few of Mary Crowley's quotations. Here's one of my favorites: "Every evening I turn my worries over to God. He's going to be up all night anyway." She also said, "Life is an echo. What you sent out comes back. What you sow, you reap. What you give, you get. What you see in others exists in you. You treat people exactly like you see them. And, "I love God's mathematics. Joy adds and multiples as you divide it with others." For some reason, I've been going through some of the quotes I've collected over the past few years. That usually means that I'll be writing something about some of them later. For now, I'm just reviewing them.Andrew Carnegie: A man can succeed at almost anything for which he has unlimited enthusiasm. John Greenleaf Whittier: The joy that you give to others is the joy that comes back to you. Ralph Waldo Emerson: It is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself. H. W. Arnold: The worst bankrupt in the world is the person who has lost his enthusiasm. Psalm 37:4: Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart. J. Carl Humphrey: The potential for greatness lies within each of us. It is simply our best. A man who can peacefully lay his head upon his pillow of rest each night, thankful to God for the blessings of the day, secure in the knowledge that he has given his best to all he has done, is great. Ziz Ziglar: You can have everything in life you want if you will just help enough people get what they want. Charles Dickens: No one is useless in the world who lightens the burden of another. Goethe: Let everyone sweep in front of his own door, and the world will be clean. Psalm 118:34: This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it. I wonder why I had to stop and read these quotations today, especially when I should be working make the house look like Christmas is almost here. I guess we'll find out... |
| A few folks have asked me about some previous posts. 1) My smashed thumb still isn't healed, no. And the nail still has not dropped off. It finally feels loose, though. So perhaps soon. 2) The boo-boo on my hand (Dec. 7 post, I think) has finally scabbed over. Took a while. 3) Yes, I'm still gaining weight. On one doc appointment last week, I discovered I weigh more now than I have since I was pregnant 23 years ago. I weigh more than I did when I had such horrible reactions to the pain management/injections for my back years ago. (Except then my face was so swelled up I looked like a pumpkin.) The good news, though, is that yesterday one of my docs informed me that one of the meds I take causes weight gain. He's weaning me off that to see if it helps. Hopefully. None of my clothes fit! That med is one that hubbo takes too, so that could be why his weight loss stalled. If I don't seem as "sunny" as I usually am, I think it's partially because I've been struggling with the fact that my son and his girlfriend have broken up. My son was the one who decided that they should see other people and become more healthy and whole apart before finding out if they should continue with a lifetime commitment. I understand that. He is only 22 and she's 21. But she's hurting and talking to me about her pain. And I'm in the middle, understanding both of their struggles and pain. And I'm feeling my own pain. I love Allison like a daughter. Hopefully, no matter what happens with them, Allison and I will be able to continue as friends. Derek and Allison met online about eight years ago. They helped each other through some tough times. They finally met in person while Derek and I were still in Texas. He took her to her prom. They really hit if off, after corresponding online for so many years. Then, they were forced into a living together situation. The relationship I was in was a nightmare, and I felt trapped. I called one of my sisters to rescue me, and Derek didn't want to move to Michigan. He also wasn't prepared to live alone in Texas. So he went to live with Allison and her mother in Memphis. And due to other family circumstances, I ended up in a women's shelter in Michigan, then lived with my elderly parents for a while. When Jim and I married, Allison and Derek moved in with us in Cincinnati. She didn't like it here and after a year, moved back to Memphis. They still had plans for both of them to end up together in Memphis. Then Derek dropped the bomb a few weeks ago that he wanted to break up. I guess I feel guilty about the way things happened. Perhaps if I had not been forced to leave Texas when I was, their relationship could have developed differently. Or maybe if I had tried harder to help her get to know and like Cincinnati when she was here, she might not have left. In any case, I miss having her around here. Last year was such fun at Thanksgiving and Christmas. We shared a kitchen without fussing and fighting like some women do. I haven't even put a Christmas tree up yet. And Jim and I haven't done any Christmas shopping. (That's a money issue.) I've never been one to go out the few days before Christmas to shop. I always had my shopping done by mid-October at the latest. I guess I'd better get off here and finish cleaning up the house so I can get that tree up. And tomorrow Incurable Romantic plans on taking the day off. He does need to practice playing the cello for the Christmas Eve service at church. But, hopefully, we're going to get all of our shopping done in one quick trip. Remind me not to let things go like this next year! |
| On Sunday, our pastor spoke about Mary. He said something about how perhaps the Catholics talk a bit too much about Mary's role and the Protestants don't speak about it enough. That's probably true. As part of Pastor John's sermon, he showed some clips about a teen girl discovering she was pregnant. He reminded us that Mary was that young, and that being with child without a husband at that time and in that culture was not good. She could have been stoned to death. And yet her faith in God was strong enough to be courageous about this. Today I read a devotional about submitting to God's will. The writer said, "When it gets right down to it, when I initially said, "Your will, Lord, not mine," what I really meant was, "Your will, not mine, as long as Your will is the same as mine and it doesn't involve hardship or suffering!" To see the whole devotional: http://health.groups.yahoo.com/group/chronicpaindevotional/message/3008 Boy that statement hit home. It's easy to say we want God's will and not our own. It's also easy to say, "Wait! This isn't what I had in mind when I said that!" Our pastor's sermon had four key points about faith: 1) It is not age dependent. 2) If you choose to walk by faith you will never be alone, but will probably be favored. 3) Faith requires a little courage on our part. 4) Faith means that worry can be replaced by worship. That last one requires some emphasis and reflection. If we drop those worries at the Lord's feet, we can freely worship. We can freely minister to others. We can go on, knowing that God is taking care of everything. Our problems come when we give our troubles to Him and then try to snatch them back again. |
| A few days ago, I was wondering what happened to someone who I had "met" here about a year ago. I was one of the first to welcome this newbie when he arrived. He read and reviewed a bunch of my port, and I read the few items he posted. Every once in a while, one of us would contact the other just to check in. About a month ago, I started trying to find this writer, but the problem was that I completely forgot his handle or user name. Finally, I decided to sit down and go through some of my old correspondence to see if I could figure out how to find him. Today, I finally found a few emails we had exchanged back and forth. But I also discovered that his WDC email address is no longer a working one and there are no writings posted by this writer. I feel badly that I didn't keep in closer contact with this writer. I wonder if all is well. I wonder if he felt that he was spending too much time here and just had to leave. I'm pretty sure that the membership costs were not a problem for him. And as I sat here thinking about my five years at WDC, I realized that so many with whom I shared brief Internet friendships have come and gone, often without even glancing back or waving good-bye. Perhaps that's one thing that I have against these computer generated friendships. They're easily established. But they're also easily severed. At least if your next door neighbor is moving, someone in the neighborhood will probably see the moving van or U-Haul truck being packed. Unless it's the middle of the night and they don't disturb the dogs. But here in cyberspace, people often just silently slip away. |
| They say there is a tomb of an Anglican Bishop in Westminster Abbey where these words are inscribed: “When I was young and free and my imagination had no limits, I dreamed of changing the world. As I grew older and wiser I discovered the world would not change – So I shortened my sights somewhat and decided to change only my country, but it too seemed immovable. As I grew into my twilight years, in one last desperate attempt, I settled for changing only my family, those closest to me, but alas, they would have none of it. And now I realize as I lie on my deathbed, if I had only changed myself first, then by example I might have changed my family. From their inspiration and encouragement I would then have been able to better my country, And who knows, I might have even changed the world.” What wise words they are! The only person we can truly change is ourself. But in really trying to change, in trying to have God's heart when we interact with people around us, others are bound to notice. And they are more apt to mimic our behavior. Both smiles and frowns are contagious. Wouldn't you rather see smiles? Both kindness and rage are easily shared and multiplied. As the year draws to a close we ponder about the impact we have or have not had on the world around us, as we begin planning and making goals for the coming year and beyond, this bishop's wise words should be inscribed upon our hearts. We can all make a difference, if we first learn to nurture ourselves. |
A few entries back, I mentioned that I hurt my hand just doing laundry. I bumped it on the washing machine agitator. I think that was on about December 2. I took a picture of it last night. My digital camera isn't very good and I'm still not used to it, but it gives a general idea. |
| Goethe said, "Nothing is worth more than this day." There's something to ponder. |
| Getting out of bed was rather painful today. Sitting is also painful this morning. Hmmm. I was exploring my files (and with my fibro fog, I forgot why I was searching!!!) and in my search, I discovered this link. If you think that here in the good 'ol US of A that getting Social Secuity Disability is easy, think again. This essay explains one woman's experience. Her's is not unusual. http://www.frontiernet.net/~lindaf1/bump.html Personally, I first applied for SSD in June, 2003 - with "just" my back and knee injuries. Since then, I've been diagnosed with fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, IBS, spastic veins and arteries, palmaplantarpustulosis, thinned skin, depression, sensitivity to drugs and chemicals. The disability advocate I had got sick and didn't tell anyone how sick he was. While I was sitting in an abuse shelter in December, 2003, I was denied and had 60 days to respond. Andre didn't tell me I was denied. He finally got so sick that he transferred his files back to his home office. I moved from TX to MI and the disability advocates finally assigned someone to help me in MI. My new advocate didn't know I had been denied either. When we inquired of SS, they always said that I was waiting for a hearing before an administrative judge. That information turned out to be partly true and partly false. I was waiting for a hearing, but not with SS. The hearing was for a Michigan judge to decide if I was disabled enough for Michigan benefits - Medicare, mostly, since I was receiving $284 in disability income from Michigan just because I was taking depression meds and seeing a counselor. This advocate finally discovered that I had been denied benefits, just before I moved to Ohio. I have a good attorney in Ohio, but I had to refile my application, since I had been denied in 2003 and didn't respond in the 60 days. I might have been able to get the SSA to reconsider that first application, since I never received the notification. (The notification went to my advocate, since I was in a woman's abuse shelter.) But my attorney and I decided to file a new application, using the original date filed as my disability date. I was denied within a few months. SSA acknowledged that I had all of the problems listed above. But they thought I could be a secretary somewhere. When I asked my attorney if SS was going to find me a job, he just laughed. I have considered making a new resume, giving not only my skills and experiences, but also listing my maladies and what they would mean to my employer. Like...not being able to sit for more than an hour without walking around. And not being able to be on my feet for long. And maybe having to take a nap or two throughout the day. Possibly bleeding all over my work, if I just bump my hands. Perhaps I'll still do that. Now I wait for a hearing with a SS judge. And because of the backlog in Ohio, that could be another year or so. Yippee skippee. At least here in Cincinnati, I have doctors who acknowledges that fibromyalgia is something real. In Michigan, I saw one doctor from another country who told me that she would never, ever fill out any forms about my having a possible disability. She informed me that if I lived in her birth country that I could have only one arm, one leg, one eye and numerous other ailments and would still be expected to work at something. I kindly suggested that she might want to go back to her country. Another Michigan doctor informed me that pain is never disabling. Really? I considered wishing that he had a few pains, but, of course I did not do that. I did pray that God would open his eyes.Well now. See what happens when Kenzie starts searching for an old file? I wish I could remember what it was I was originally wanting to find. Oh well. It did remind me that when I listed my maladies I completely forgot fibro fog!!! |
| Besides pain and fatigue and IBS and all sorts of other things, I have thinned skin due to shots and meds taken about 5 years ago for my back injury and pains. My poor hands look like they belong to someone 20+ years older. That wouldn't bother me if my thin skin didn't bruise and bleed. Sometimes I don't even know that I've injured myself until I start bleeding. That was not the case yesterday. I was doing the laundry and hit my hand on the agitator. OUCH! I know when I do feel something, that it's going to be bad. I ended up tearing most of a circle of skin away. Boy did that hurt. I quickly doused it in peroxide and clamped down on the injury so it wouldn't end up being a raised bump that couldn't heal well. As it is, it will probably take about 2-3 weeks to heal. Hopefully, in the meantime, I won't bump that hand again. I have so many scars on that hand now! So, here I am complaining again. |
I found a few old notebooks with some scribblings in them. Some of the pages have been torn from the books. On some pages, the writing is so bad that even I am having trouble reading it.  But I have started trying to type some of those scribbgles here:
|
If you haven't visited this blog or made it one of your favorites yet, you need to do that pronto.
|
| This fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue stinks. Really. Although I would love to sleep all the time, the most painful time for my joints and muscles is getting in and out of bed. So getting into bed hurts. And I know that when I get back out of bed that will hurt as well. Even when I'm thoroughly exhausted, knowing that getting in and out of bed will hurt so badly doesn't make sleeping that attractive. I'm not sure which is worse, but I think it's getting up in the morning. Sometimes I lay awake in bed praying. But, ultimately, I have to get up at some point, even if it's just to answer nature's call. And I would just like to scream and scream because of the pain. Considering the pain that I do experience, I think I'm still a rather pleasant person to be around. Sometimes I want to be reeeeeeaaaaaaaaaallllllllly grumpy, but I try not to be. |
| I keep forgetting to list some of the strange things that have come from my mouth recently. Some of them, Incurable Romantic and I have listed in his blog. It's like I've developed a dyslexic mouth. I have said: I've very been good. That's very not nice. Crinimal Minds (instead of Criminal Minds) And....Dullbozer (instead of bulldozer). Why would we be talking about bulldozers? I tease Jim when I wake up in the mornings hurting all over that he's been running a bulldozer over me while I sleep. But not long ago, I said, "dullbozer" instead of bulldozer. Weird. |
| Have you ever done a Google search of your own name? There are lots of Marilyn Mackenzie listings. I find it fascinating that the women who share my name are writers, pastors, artists, speakers, volunteer coordinators. Recently, I found a quotation by one of them: "I want women to be aware of abuse without bruising. Women should be aware of the controller, the manipulator, about being put down, being lied to. You may not even recognize this type of abuse at first but this does effect the way you live your life, the way you react to your children, family and friends." Marilyn Mackenzie , London, Ontario, November, 2005 I really find this fascinating, since I have been a victim of this type of abuse myself. |
| Yikes. I wonder if I can remember everything that has happend since I last wrote something here. I took Derek to the airport in Dayton on Tuesday, Nov. 7, and continued driving north. He was going to visit his girl friend in Memphis for her 21st birthday. My destination was Rapid City, MI - in northern Michigan. That's where my sister lives, and where my Mom now resides as well - in an assisted living center. What fun I had with my (baby) sister and her family. Karen is now 41, but she'll always be the baby. ********** On Wednesday, Karen picked up Mom and told her there was a surprise back at her house. I was pleased that my mom knew who I was. We went to lunch, and that was an adventure. Mom claimed she had no appetite, then ate like she hadn't had a meal in days. Even so, she couldn't finish her cheeseburger, so she wrapped up half of it and put it in her purse. We sent back to Karen's after eating, and Mom was restless. She kept asking what we were going to do next. Finally, after she had asked that about a gazillion times, I reminded her that when she was ready, we'd take her back to her home. She said she was ready. We took Mom back to the home, and as we drove up she said, "Do I live here?" (She has been there for nine months.) Once inside, Karen asked Mom to show me her room. With the help of signs on the bedroom doors, she was able to find her room. But she stood in the middle of it saying, with amazement in her voice, "All of my things are here. Look! My clothes are in the closet. I have so many clothes. Look! My handsome Harry's pictures are on the shelf. I lost my handsome Harry, you know." Of course we knew. Dad passed away in August, 2005 and Mom's mental switch seemed to turn off completely when he died. Before that, she was getting forgetful. After he died, she changed dramatically. Karen asked Mom to show us the puzzle she was working on when Karen arrived to pick her up. In the community room, there were a bunch of men watching Lingo on the TV. One, who cannot speak, gestured to my sister that he and Mom (and no one else) do puzzles together. His eyes twinkled as he explained this to Karen with his hands. (No, he doesn't use sign language, just gestures. Karen was always good at playing charades.) Mom listened to Karen interrpret the man's hand gestures and commented, "That man must be my friend." "Yes, Mom, he must be your friend. You do puzzles together." As we started to say our good-byes, Mom ran and got her purse. "Are we going to eat now?" she asked. "No, Mom, we already ate. Remember? You have half of your cheeseburger in your purse. You need to take that to the kitchen and ask someone to put it in the refrigerator for you." "No, I'm going to eat it for dinner." "They're fixing dinner for you, Mom." "They are? How nice." Later in the week, the staff at the home told Karen they had found the cheeseburger in Mom's dresser drawer. *********** On Thursday, Karen and I drove to see our other sister, Carol in Midland, MI. She just divorced her husband of 26 years. Seems he had cheated on her for most of those years. His present girl friend has been in his life for the last 7 years. Carol is just devastated. We were there to offer some comfort, but also to go through some of Mom and Dad's things. We found pictures that none of us had ever seen before. We shared Dad's Seabee's pins and Sheet Metal Worker pins. We discovered that Dad had 3 Bibles, so we each took one of those. We do have a brother, but he chooses to be homeless and at this point we really don't know where (in Pittsburgh) he's staying. We did put aside a few things to send to his children. I came away with a very special hat of my father's. It's a Steeler's knit cap. He wore it every time he sat watching a Steeler's game. Attached to it are old Steeler buttons, a miniature "terrible towel", and a ticket stub from one of the Super Bowls he attended in the 70's. What a treasure. I could probably sell that hat on e-Bay and make some money. But the true value is in the memories. Karen and I spent the night at Carols, then headed back to Rapid City on Friday morning. ************** On Friday afternoon, our cousin Ed came to visit with us and Mom. He had not seem Mom since he lived with my parents for a few months in about 2002. Karen brought Mom to her house for another surprise. She remembered Ed too. But her comments were much the same as they had been on Wednesday. Cousin Ed did discover that Mom's memory of music and lyrics is better than life moments. ************** On Saturday, Karen and her two daughters and I went on a "shop til you drop" trip. In fact, at the last two stops, I stayed in the car. We must have shopped for 6 or 7 hours. Well...they shopped. I just tagged along. It snowed on Friday and Saturday nights, but it wasn't cold enough to stay on the streets, thankfully. On Sunday, Karen continued her demolition project. She had been tearing down walls before I arrived, and she continued that as soon as everyone was awake on Sunday. I left northern Michigan in the early afternoon on Sunday. I was truly thankful that after traveling about 20 miles down the highway, the sun shone brightly. After another 10 miles or so, there was not even any evidence of snow on the grass beside the road. I was able to take my time heading on back to Ohio. Derek's flight didn't arrive until almost 11 p.m. We arrived back home probably close to 2 a.m. on Monday. *********** I had not seen my mother since my dad died about 15 months ago. I'm glad I made the trip, since I don't know when I'll get back to see Mom again. She may not remember that I was there, but I know. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
