Today... as I emerged from my yoga workout...I came into the kitchen and Craig was preparing a can of home style chicken noodle soup...the ones I had bought Moma, cause they were her favorite...he told me, "I asked Grandma if I could have her soup that was left over. I think she's okay with it."
"I'm sure she is," I said as I looked out the back door. On the banister, were two butterflies...if you are familiar with Moma's last day, you'll know the significance of that...it's Wednesday, two weeks since Moma went to her new home.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
"You write it.."
On 06/24/2010, at approximately 8:30 pm later after a visit with Scarlet, Moma woke up and said, “You’ll have to write it.”
“Write what Moma?” I asked.
“You’re going have to write it cause it will be a mess if I do.”
“Help me understand, Moma.” I got a piece of paper and a pen. “What do you want me to write?”
“Wanda Francis,” she said. “Wanda Kay Francis”
“Well, why am I writing your name, Moma?”
No answer.
Desperately wanting to understand and please her, “What do you want me to write on it, Moma?”
“You figure out what you want to write on it.” “You don’t have to even sign my name, you can sign yours.”
So, I wrote Wanda Francis at the top of the page…
Then I wrote:
Wanda Kay Francis is my dear Moma. She is fighting a terminal cancer; renal cell. At this point she is unable to get out of the bed, unable to connect her thoughts enough to communicate what’s really on her mind and gets frustrated because of it. Despite her not being able to leave the bed, the room or the house she continues to find things to smile about. She remains beautiful as she is in her last days and everyone who visits her or sees her photos acknowledge her true beauty.
I am extremely blessed to be able to care for her in her last days. I long for her to be without pain and be able to walk again in heaven with her Creator; the God she raised me to know and love.
Wanda Kay Francis is my Moma and I am blessed for all the years I have been able to share with her.
And I signed it, Donna Lynn
She looked over at me and asked so sweetly, “Why the tears?”
I told her that I had figured out what to write and it pulled at my heartstrings.
I asked her, “Do you want me to read it to you?”
She nodded yes.
When I had finished, she looked at me lovingly and I said, “I just love you, Moma.” And she said, “You know I love you, too.”
As we looked through Moma’s boxes of belongings a few days after her passing, we found notebook after notebook…writings…journaling…looks like I came by it naturally…Moma even wrote in her sleep…her left hand writing in the air.
She couldn’t write probably the last 5 months of her life…that was hard on her. I will continue to write…in her honor.
“Write what Moma?” I asked.
“You’re going have to write it cause it will be a mess if I do.”
“Help me understand, Moma.” I got a piece of paper and a pen. “What do you want me to write?”
“Wanda Francis,” she said. “Wanda Kay Francis”
“Well, why am I writing your name, Moma?”
No answer.
Desperately wanting to understand and please her, “What do you want me to write on it, Moma?”
“You figure out what you want to write on it.” “You don’t have to even sign my name, you can sign yours.”
So, I wrote Wanda Francis at the top of the page…
Then I wrote:
Wanda Kay Francis is my dear Moma. She is fighting a terminal cancer; renal cell. At this point she is unable to get out of the bed, unable to connect her thoughts enough to communicate what’s really on her mind and gets frustrated because of it. Despite her not being able to leave the bed, the room or the house she continues to find things to smile about. She remains beautiful as she is in her last days and everyone who visits her or sees her photos acknowledge her true beauty.
I am extremely blessed to be able to care for her in her last days. I long for her to be without pain and be able to walk again in heaven with her Creator; the God she raised me to know and love.
Wanda Kay Francis is my Moma and I am blessed for all the years I have been able to share with her.
And I signed it, Donna Lynn
She looked over at me and asked so sweetly, “Why the tears?”
I told her that I had figured out what to write and it pulled at my heartstrings.
I asked her, “Do you want me to read it to you?”
She nodded yes.
When I had finished, she looked at me lovingly and I said, “I just love you, Moma.” And she said, “You know I love you, too.”
As we looked through Moma’s boxes of belongings a few days after her passing, we found notebook after notebook…writings…journaling…looks like I came by it naturally…Moma even wrote in her sleep…her left hand writing in the air.
She couldn’t write probably the last 5 months of her life…that was hard on her. I will continue to write…in her honor.
Moma's Last Day
Written hours after Moma passed as I struggled to accept her final day on 07/07/2010.
Today Dr. Nichols came to see Moma’s leg with the skin tear. When she was here, she listened to Moma’s heart, lungs and breathing. All was good. No sign of secretions, fluid build up, all is good…by the way; let’s take her off the lasik and use only as needed.
It wasn’t even a half hour after the doctor left, at approximately 11:15 am, that Moma started breathing raspy. Granny and Aunt Juanita visited early, too. Moma was eating her biscuits and gravy. Aunt Juanita remarked as she left, “She seems real weak today.”
Cathy came to the door and brought supplies for the skin tear and I redressed Moma’s leg. No infection, the doctor had said…and I praised Moma for being so strong.
Moma slept after that until I woke her at 3 PM. Ezra came to visit about that time and Moma got out of drinking the apple juice solution for her bowels. She told Ezra after a short bit that she was so tired and needed to sleep.
I changed her, she was so extremely soaked, I just thought it was the lisik…and she slept until about 6PM. I fixed her a plate of sloppy joe and baby carrots. She took a bite of the sloppy joe and a bit of the baby carrots and just couldn’t handle swallowing them. So, we switched to an ice cream sundae cup from Schwans. She ate 75% of it, but could not hold the cup like she usually does. She held the spoon and I helped her get a bite on the spoon. She started getting so raspy that she felt she was choking. I told her about some medicine that Hospice had left with me just in case this happened because it happens sometimes with their patients. (Hyomax FT) And we took one of the pills to dry up the secretions. A bit later, we took one more. She was very restless and kept asking me to sit her up. She coughed or at least tried to over and over. I would hold her in my arms with my body supporting her back, her boney arms wrapped around my left arm, so many times, I lost count.
At one point as I was lying her back down she told me, “I can’t do this much longer.”
“Do what, Moma, cough so much?”
She shook her head no.
“Just do the whole thing?”
And she shook her head yes.
I called Hospice to talk with a nurse about a pain pill and a worry pill (that’s what we call the Ativan) and as to whether that would be okay to take with the hyomax. It was, the nurse Calvin informed me. So I gave Moma both. I laid her on her right side for a spell…that lasted about 20 mins., all the while sitting her up here and there to cough. I moved from the stool beside her bed where I had been the whole time and sat on the other bed to rest my back. She asked me to put her back on her back, I did. Eventually I moved back to the other bed. She never let herself go back to sleep. She had been awake since 6pm.
Melanie texted me and asked about Moma…I filled her in…and she asked if she should leave and come on down. I told her no…it would probably be fine. That was around 8:30pm.
Around 9:30, she looked over at me and let out a moan. I got up and sat back on the stool and petted on her, her heart was beating so fast. I checked her pad and it was so full of bowel movement. I told her I had to get it off of her and I would do it quickly so she could rest. I went to the door and yelled for Papa so he could call Melanie, as there was finality in the moments. As I turned her to her right side she seemed to start breathing differently and I noticed her grip on the rail loosened. I tried to clean her quickly…I keep saying, “Moma, hang in there,” “Moma, you aren’t supposed to go like this, wait Moma”…and I turned her back. When I saw her face, I knew she was leaving. I told her it was okay, that she can go, “I’m okay, Moma, I’m ready now, it’s okay.” She drew maybe, three slower breaths. Her fingers turned purplish, her mouth was rigid, her eyes were fixed. And then she was gone. Papa had to tell me as I held her hand in mine, and the other on her heart, that she was no longer with us. I desperately wanted to feel life in her.
I can’t tell you exactly what I feel. Should I have tried to hook her up to oxygen? Should I have picked her up and maybe she would have breathed easier? Should I had stopped trying to keep the bowel movement from getting all over and just turned her back over? I just felt I could have done something to make it better for her.
But Papa tells me, and Ariel…that she passed with me helping her, cleaning her up, holding her hand…and that is all I could have done and that’s all she would have wanted.
And yet, today…I told Rosie that I felt like the summer would be gone before I could spend time with Molly and Jake…and I told Craig, that she doesn’t even look like my mother anymore…and those thoughts create guilt.
I remember something very interesting that happened in the late afternoon of Moma’s passing…Moma always told her children if a butterfly landed on something it meant you would get that very something new. I remember the laundry hanging out in the backyard thinking as I saw butterflies land on them about the new clothes we would be getting, even though the majority of our clothing came from “missionary boxes”…at about 4:30 there was a brownish orange butterfly that kept hanging on the front door, on the front glass, fluttering around when Craig shooed it away and laying again on the front door frame. We laughed about who would be getting the new house…Me and Papa, Craig or Ariel (they were the only kids at the house at the time)…or maybe, William would go off to the Air Force early, we jested. We totally forgot about Moma being the recipient…and yet, she’s the one who, at the end of the day, who got the new house…just as the butterfly had predicted…a new home in heaven…a new body with Christ.
And a big part of my "inner child", wants to tell Moma about that. I know she would smile, clasp her hands together and say, "That's beautiful."
Today Dr. Nichols came to see Moma’s leg with the skin tear. When she was here, she listened to Moma’s heart, lungs and breathing. All was good. No sign of secretions, fluid build up, all is good…by the way; let’s take her off the lasik and use only as needed.
It wasn’t even a half hour after the doctor left, at approximately 11:15 am, that Moma started breathing raspy. Granny and Aunt Juanita visited early, too. Moma was eating her biscuits and gravy. Aunt Juanita remarked as she left, “She seems real weak today.”
Cathy came to the door and brought supplies for the skin tear and I redressed Moma’s leg. No infection, the doctor had said…and I praised Moma for being so strong.
Moma slept after that until I woke her at 3 PM. Ezra came to visit about that time and Moma got out of drinking the apple juice solution for her bowels. She told Ezra after a short bit that she was so tired and needed to sleep.
I changed her, she was so extremely soaked, I just thought it was the lisik…and she slept until about 6PM. I fixed her a plate of sloppy joe and baby carrots. She took a bite of the sloppy joe and a bit of the baby carrots and just couldn’t handle swallowing them. So, we switched to an ice cream sundae cup from Schwans. She ate 75% of it, but could not hold the cup like she usually does. She held the spoon and I helped her get a bite on the spoon. She started getting so raspy that she felt she was choking. I told her about some medicine that Hospice had left with me just in case this happened because it happens sometimes with their patients. (Hyomax FT) And we took one of the pills to dry up the secretions. A bit later, we took one more. She was very restless and kept asking me to sit her up. She coughed or at least tried to over and over. I would hold her in my arms with my body supporting her back, her boney arms wrapped around my left arm, so many times, I lost count.
At one point as I was lying her back down she told me, “I can’t do this much longer.”
“Do what, Moma, cough so much?”
She shook her head no.
“Just do the whole thing?”
And she shook her head yes.
I called Hospice to talk with a nurse about a pain pill and a worry pill (that’s what we call the Ativan) and as to whether that would be okay to take with the hyomax. It was, the nurse Calvin informed me. So I gave Moma both. I laid her on her right side for a spell…that lasted about 20 mins., all the while sitting her up here and there to cough. I moved from the stool beside her bed where I had been the whole time and sat on the other bed to rest my back. She asked me to put her back on her back, I did. Eventually I moved back to the other bed. She never let herself go back to sleep. She had been awake since 6pm.
Melanie texted me and asked about Moma…I filled her in…and she asked if she should leave and come on down. I told her no…it would probably be fine. That was around 8:30pm.
Around 9:30, she looked over at me and let out a moan. I got up and sat back on the stool and petted on her, her heart was beating so fast. I checked her pad and it was so full of bowel movement. I told her I had to get it off of her and I would do it quickly so she could rest. I went to the door and yelled for Papa so he could call Melanie, as there was finality in the moments. As I turned her to her right side she seemed to start breathing differently and I noticed her grip on the rail loosened. I tried to clean her quickly…I keep saying, “Moma, hang in there,” “Moma, you aren’t supposed to go like this, wait Moma”…and I turned her back. When I saw her face, I knew she was leaving. I told her it was okay, that she can go, “I’m okay, Moma, I’m ready now, it’s okay.” She drew maybe, three slower breaths. Her fingers turned purplish, her mouth was rigid, her eyes were fixed. And then she was gone. Papa had to tell me as I held her hand in mine, and the other on her heart, that she was no longer with us. I desperately wanted to feel life in her.
I can’t tell you exactly what I feel. Should I have tried to hook her up to oxygen? Should I have picked her up and maybe she would have breathed easier? Should I had stopped trying to keep the bowel movement from getting all over and just turned her back over? I just felt I could have done something to make it better for her.
But Papa tells me, and Ariel…that she passed with me helping her, cleaning her up, holding her hand…and that is all I could have done and that’s all she would have wanted.
And yet, today…I told Rosie that I felt like the summer would be gone before I could spend time with Molly and Jake…and I told Craig, that she doesn’t even look like my mother anymore…and those thoughts create guilt.
I remember something very interesting that happened in the late afternoon of Moma’s passing…Moma always told her children if a butterfly landed on something it meant you would get that very something new. I remember the laundry hanging out in the backyard thinking as I saw butterflies land on them about the new clothes we would be getting, even though the majority of our clothing came from “missionary boxes”…at about 4:30 there was a brownish orange butterfly that kept hanging on the front door, on the front glass, fluttering around when Craig shooed it away and laying again on the front door frame. We laughed about who would be getting the new house…Me and Papa, Craig or Ariel (they were the only kids at the house at the time)…or maybe, William would go off to the Air Force early, we jested. We totally forgot about Moma being the recipient…and yet, she’s the one who, at the end of the day, who got the new house…just as the butterfly had predicted…a new home in heaven…a new body with Christ.
And a big part of my "inner child", wants to tell Moma about that. I know she would smile, clasp her hands together and say, "That's beautiful."
---------Sometimes you get sick and you don't get better...that's when life is short, even in it's longest days. --John Cougar Mellencamp
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Thinking...
I walked into Moma's room today and found her staring at the ceiling again...eyes fixed and looking deep in thought.
"Whatcha thinkin bout Moma?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing. It's easier that way." she replied.
...and once again, I wish I could take it all away...
"Whatcha thinkin bout Moma?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing. It's easier that way." she replied.
...and once again, I wish I could take it all away...
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Moma's Emergency Potato Soup
On May 27th...the day after Moma's birthday...she slept basically all day. Waking up for a few minutes at a time when it was medicine time...I thought the day would be her last. I sat on the bed across from hers for hours all day, making sure she was breathing, staying close in case she woke up on her own. At 11PM, I woke her for scheduled meds and since she had slept from 3PM - 11PM she had missed dinner time. I asked if she were ready to eat something.
To my surprise she answered, "Yes...how about some potato salad?" She chatted a bit about how she was wanted this and how it sounded so good to her...and I fought the tears back. I hate when I don't have what she wants when she wants it. Usually I'll have Papa run and get some...but it was 11PM...I watch as disappointment crept across her face as I told her I didn't have any potato salad and then explained it would take 45 minutes probably to whip some up.
She listened and said, "Well, then, how bout potato soup." Determination swept in...either that or I could bare disappointing her again and I responded, "I think, I can do that for you, Moma. I'll go get started." I left the room, went to the kitchen and cried. Then prayed. Then stuck a potato in the microwave and set it for 10 minutes. I got out a can of cream of celery soup (bought the 25th of May, as I was picking up Moma's birthday stuff...saying to myself when I saw it, "I'll get this...I might need it to make potato soup someday." And here I was...making potato soup, crying and praying.
I poured the cream of celery soup in the pan, about 1/4 cup of water and a half can of milk, cayenne, black pepper, Ms Dash, garlic powder, onion power and started heating it up...after 10 minutes, the potato was cooked and I scooped the ever so hot contents from the skin, dropping them into the mixture...adding a dolollop of sour cream.
When it was all good and warm I took it into Moma with some crackers and fed it to her...at 11:30 PM...and she was soooooo pleased. "Oh, this is good."
"My goodness" as I fed her a second bite...and so on with the sound of contentment.
Feeling good about it, she ate 10 bites. THAT is really good for Moma's appetite.
When I went to the kitchen to rinse her bowl, I found the pan had been rinsed out and the remaining soup was gone.
"That was great," Papa said, as he walked into the kitchen with HIS dirty bowl.
To my surprise she answered, "Yes...how about some potato salad?" She chatted a bit about how she was wanted this and how it sounded so good to her...and I fought the tears back. I hate when I don't have what she wants when she wants it. Usually I'll have Papa run and get some...but it was 11PM...I watch as disappointment crept across her face as I told her I didn't have any potato salad and then explained it would take 45 minutes probably to whip some up.
She listened and said, "Well, then, how bout potato soup." Determination swept in...either that or I could bare disappointing her again and I responded, "I think, I can do that for you, Moma. I'll go get started." I left the room, went to the kitchen and cried. Then prayed. Then stuck a potato in the microwave and set it for 10 minutes. I got out a can of cream of celery soup (bought the 25th of May, as I was picking up Moma's birthday stuff...saying to myself when I saw it, "I'll get this...I might need it to make potato soup someday." And here I was...making potato soup, crying and praying.
I poured the cream of celery soup in the pan, about 1/4 cup of water and a half can of milk, cayenne, black pepper, Ms Dash, garlic powder, onion power and started heating it up...after 10 minutes, the potato was cooked and I scooped the ever so hot contents from the skin, dropping them into the mixture...adding a dolollop of sour cream.
When it was all good and warm I took it into Moma with some crackers and fed it to her...at 11:30 PM...and she was soooooo pleased. "Oh, this is good."
"My goodness" as I fed her a second bite...and so on with the sound of contentment.
Feeling good about it, she ate 10 bites. THAT is really good for Moma's appetite.
When I went to the kitchen to rinse her bowl, I found the pan had been rinsed out and the remaining soup was gone.
"That was great," Papa said, as he walked into the kitchen with HIS dirty bowl.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Put a Bug in Your Ear...
...If you put a bug in some one's ear, you give him or her a reminder or suggestion relating to a future event...
We are fighting to keep the air conditioning off. I love the breeze blowing through the house. I love hearing the birds chirping, neighbors chatting, wind in the trees...it's inspiring and uplifting.So, we struggle through heat to lengthen the experience of open windows.The past few days...geez...past week, at night Papa will go back into the bedroom about 7 or 8, place a box fan in the window and turn on the bed lamp...like older people do, you know to prepare for bed...I have requested that he stop doing this, as I am battling tiny gnat like bugs of various varieties. He doesn't take this seriously and continues his preparatory practice. Last night I go in and find at least 20 or more little gnat like, light loving, bugs on OUR PILLOWS and swarming around the bed light. Cripes!!! So, I explain it again...When you turn the lamp on at night it attracts bugs and they sit on the screen...when you place a box fan against the screen that the unwanted species are clinging to...the fan DRAWS the BUGS through the screen!!! Of course, after they are sucked into MY bedroom, they naturally go to the light that they were lusting over from outside of our bedroom. (Imagine it, George!)
So, I brushed the unwanted night life out of my bed...grumbling of course, as I did...thinking...if a woman tells her man what is bothering her and he continues to allow that unwanted behavior...how the heck are they coming up on a 25 year anniversary...(just the things that pass through your head when something is "bugging" you.)
I go to sleep and am sleeping sooooooo good...when all of a sudden I feel something going into my ear...crawling around like crazy...a freaking bug!!! Buzzing, scrabbling...sending me into insanity...how do you get a bug out of your ear!?!?! In my mind it was centipede or something a kin to it. I thought about holding the flashlight to my ear to...you know...attract it to the light. But that might take a while and I had to make it stop! So, I turned to peroxide as my method of stifling the madness. I drowned the poor sucker...so I could sleep and deal with the prospect of removal in the morning...after coffee...when my thinking is clearer.
It took a while mind you...trying to relax and fall asleep knowing I had a bug the size of something off the Bug's Life in my ear...but it happened.
This morning, after coffee, I tried not to rant...and succeeded to just ask Papa WWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHTYYYYYYYYYYYYYY did he allow this foreigner in our bedroom? and HHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW to I get it out now that it ain't going be able to crawl out.
An ear syringe with warm water...tilt my head over the sink, flush...and wham-o, I hear Papa say, there it is...and the pain was gone and I felt a bit more settled, especially after seeing it was only the size of three dots put together...Yeah, like the three dots you see over and over in my writing when I'm continuing my thoughts. Way to small to take a photo of...
So, tonight...I'm gonna 'put a bug in Papa's ear'...no, not literally, I'm not revengeful...But I will be...if I have to!
We are fighting to keep the air conditioning off. I love the breeze blowing through the house. I love hearing the birds chirping, neighbors chatting, wind in the trees...it's inspiring and uplifting.So, we struggle through heat to lengthen the experience of open windows.The past few days...geez...past week, at night Papa will go back into the bedroom about 7 or 8, place a box fan in the window and turn on the bed lamp...like older people do, you know to prepare for bed...I have requested that he stop doing this, as I am battling tiny gnat like bugs of various varieties. He doesn't take this seriously and continues his preparatory practice. Last night I go in and find at least 20 or more little gnat like, light loving, bugs on OUR PILLOWS and swarming around the bed light. Cripes!!! So, I explain it again...When you turn the lamp on at night it attracts bugs and they sit on the screen...when you place a box fan against the screen that the unwanted species are clinging to...the fan DRAWS the BUGS through the screen!!! Of course, after they are sucked into MY bedroom, they naturally go to the light that they were lusting over from outside of our bedroom. (Imagine it, George!)
So, I brushed the unwanted night life out of my bed...grumbling of course, as I did...thinking...if a woman tells her man what is bothering her and he continues to allow that unwanted behavior...how the heck are they coming up on a 25 year anniversary...(just the things that pass through your head when something is "bugging" you.)
I go to sleep and am sleeping sooooooo good...when all of a sudden I feel something going into my ear...crawling around like crazy...a freaking bug!!! Buzzing, scrabbling...sending me into insanity...how do you get a bug out of your ear!?!?! In my mind it was centipede or something a kin to it. I thought about holding the flashlight to my ear to...you know...attract it to the light. But that might take a while and I had to make it stop! So, I turned to peroxide as my method of stifling the madness. I drowned the poor sucker...so I could sleep and deal with the prospect of removal in the morning...after coffee...when my thinking is clearer.
It took a while mind you...trying to relax and fall asleep knowing I had a bug the size of something off the Bug's Life in my ear...but it happened.
This morning, after coffee, I tried not to rant...and succeeded to just ask Papa WWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHTYYYYYYYYYYYYYY did he allow this foreigner in our bedroom? and HHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW to I get it out now that it ain't going be able to crawl out.
An ear syringe with warm water...tilt my head over the sink, flush...and wham-o, I hear Papa say, there it is...and the pain was gone and I felt a bit more settled, especially after seeing it was only the size of three dots put together...Yeah, like the three dots you see over and over in my writing when I'm continuing my thoughts. Way to small to take a photo of...
So, tonight...I'm gonna 'put a bug in Papa's ear'...no, not literally, I'm not revengeful...But I will be...if I have to!
Monday, April 26, 2010
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Jeremiah 29:11
Moma wanted to sit on the bedside pot…and I assisted her despite her body’s resistance. It’s quite a procedure, it hurts her legs tremendously and it strains my back due to her fear of feeling more pain or simply falling.
As she sat there on the bedside pot, “It is Well With My Soul” was playing on the CD…I was singing along with it, thoughtful, as Moma had tried my patience minutes before when I tried to get her to eat and take her needed medicines. She tossed her bacon on the bed after one bite, refused her grilled cheese, ate two bites of applesauce. She refused to drink her potassium and she chewed her capsule blaming me for not giving her water even though I had the glass of water in my hand holding the straw to her lips.
“See if I’m making sense,” she said. “I want to make sense. Do I make sense?”
“Some days are better than others, Moma...but, yes, right now you’re making sense.”
“Ok, see if I am making sense.” (Long pause)
“Do I have other plants?”
“Plans, Moma?”
“Yes, do I have other plants?”
“For your situation, Moma?” I asked to be sure. “Do you have other plans?”
“Yes, do I have other plans?”
“Moma, there’s nothing else here we can for your cancer. The only plans we have, Moma, is to make you comfortable until God takes you home to be with Jesus.”
She looks at me with disbelief in her eyes.
“Moma, there is no other medicine we can give you to make it go away. It’s up to God to either take it away or take you home.”
“Does that make sense, Moma?”
“Yes,” she says slowly, “it makes sense. I want other plans.”
“What kind of plans do you want Moma?”
“I want it go away.”
“The cancer, Moma?”
“Yes,” she says as she nods her head.
“I’m sorry, Moma. I can’t fix that for you. No one can, except God.” I hug her up close.
Then I began putting the fresh pull up on her, getting her ready to put back in bed.
“Be Still My Soul/Take It to God in Prayer compellation” is now playing.
“If you are tired of hurting, talk to Him about it. Tell Him how bad you’re hurting. Tell Him if He plans to leave you here longer with us that you need Him to take some of your pain. Tell Him you need Him to take the pain. He tells us, ask and receive. Then after you do that, Moma…trust Him to do it.”
“Take My Hand, Precious Lord and Lead Me Home / Just a Closer Walk with Thee”…is now floating through the room.
I placed her back in the bed. Adjusting and covering her. She lay her head on the pillow, kept her eyes shut tight and didn't opened them.
I noticed the song had changed and “Great is Thy Faithfulness” was now playing on the CD player.
As I type beside her bed, approximately twenty minutes later since she had closed her eyes…the cd is beginning to repeat itself and “It Is Well With My Soul” has began again.
She wakes and asks for her eye glasses.
I give them to her and she says, “I want you to know; I love you.”
“Oh, I know you do, with all my heart, I know. But I never get tired of hearing it.”
“Then I’ve done it,” she said, “I’ll tell you more later, bye now. And closed her eyes.
As she sat there on the bedside pot, “It is Well With My Soul” was playing on the CD…I was singing along with it, thoughtful, as Moma had tried my patience minutes before when I tried to get her to eat and take her needed medicines. She tossed her bacon on the bed after one bite, refused her grilled cheese, ate two bites of applesauce. She refused to drink her potassium and she chewed her capsule blaming me for not giving her water even though I had the glass of water in my hand holding the straw to her lips.
“See if I’m making sense,” she said. “I want to make sense. Do I make sense?”
“Some days are better than others, Moma...but, yes, right now you’re making sense.”
“Ok, see if I am making sense.” (Long pause)
“Do I have other plants?”
“Plans, Moma?”
“Yes, do I have other plants?”
“For your situation, Moma?” I asked to be sure. “Do you have other plans?”
“Yes, do I have other plans?”
“Moma, there’s nothing else here we can for your cancer. The only plans we have, Moma, is to make you comfortable until God takes you home to be with Jesus.”
She looks at me with disbelief in her eyes.
“Moma, there is no other medicine we can give you to make it go away. It’s up to God to either take it away or take you home.”
“Does that make sense, Moma?”
“Yes,” she says slowly, “it makes sense. I want other plans.”
“What kind of plans do you want Moma?”
“I want it go away.”
“The cancer, Moma?”
“Yes,” she says as she nods her head.
“I’m sorry, Moma. I can’t fix that for you. No one can, except God.” I hug her up close.
Then I began putting the fresh pull up on her, getting her ready to put back in bed.
“Be Still My Soul/Take It to God in Prayer compellation” is now playing.
“If you are tired of hurting, talk to Him about it. Tell Him how bad you’re hurting. Tell Him if He plans to leave you here longer with us that you need Him to take some of your pain. Tell Him you need Him to take the pain. He tells us, ask and receive. Then after you do that, Moma…trust Him to do it.”
“Take My Hand, Precious Lord and Lead Me Home / Just a Closer Walk with Thee”…is now floating through the room.
I placed her back in the bed. Adjusting and covering her. She lay her head on the pillow, kept her eyes shut tight and didn't opened them.
I noticed the song had changed and “Great is Thy Faithfulness” was now playing on the CD player.
As I type beside her bed, approximately twenty minutes later since she had closed her eyes…the cd is beginning to repeat itself and “It Is Well With My Soul” has began again.
She wakes and asks for her eye glasses.
I give them to her and she says, “I want you to know; I love you.”
“Oh, I know you do, with all my heart, I know. But I never get tired of hearing it.”
“Then I’ve done it,” she said, “I’ll tell you more later, bye now. And closed her eyes.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
A Special Valentine...
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Bath time is complete…goodnight hugs are given to everyone in the house…we head to the bedroom where Emily grabs The Gingerbread Man and Goodnight Moon and tossing them into her bed…I began to scroll through my iphone for my “Emily” album…it’s an album of nothing but repeats of Brahms’ Lullaby cause I know it’s coming…Emily then pulls the little collapsible stool from beside her bed and opens it, pats it and says, “La, La, Mimi, La, La” and I assure her, I’m staying to sing to her and she climbs in bed. As I sit down I hit play and Brahms’ Lullaby begins.
Emily hands me The Gingerbread Man first and we start to read. She helps me turn the pages and listens intently. Winston wanders in the room and stands looking at Emily. I move the book and he moves in towards her and licks her face goodnight. We go back to reading…finishing the first and start on Goodnight Moon…she points at the “cows jumping over the moon” and asks about the “young little mouse” and waits patiently for me to read “and the little ole lady whispering, hush” so she can say, “hush” with her finger up to her mouth. Daisy wanders in and wishes Emily a good night’s rest and sits and listens to the La, La, La in the background….
And the stories end…
Emily begins to ask to kiss Papa again…and I remind her she did already…so she opens her arms and says, “Papa.” And I remind her that she did hug Papa already and can hug him more in the morning when the sun wakes up.
She snuggles in the bed allows me to cover her and I began putting words to the tune of the “La La La” music playing in the background…Winston and Daisy hearing me sing, come into the room again and sit beside me…Pikachu wanders in the room and jumps on the bed and peers over Emily laying under the covers…and everyone is wishing Emily goodnight…and she drifts away into peaceful sleep where I pray she dreams of love and special things.
Emily hands me The Gingerbread Man first and we start to read. She helps me turn the pages and listens intently. Winston wanders in the room and stands looking at Emily. I move the book and he moves in towards her and licks her face goodnight. We go back to reading…finishing the first and start on Goodnight Moon…she points at the “cows jumping over the moon” and asks about the “young little mouse” and waits patiently for me to read “and the little ole lady whispering, hush” so she can say, “hush” with her finger up to her mouth. Daisy wanders in and wishes Emily a good night’s rest and sits and listens to the La, La, La in the background….
And the stories end…
Emily begins to ask to kiss Papa again…and I remind her she did already…so she opens her arms and says, “Papa.” And I remind her that she did hug Papa already and can hug him more in the morning when the sun wakes up.
She snuggles in the bed allows me to cover her and I began putting words to the tune of the “La La La” music playing in the background…Winston and Daisy hearing me sing, come into the room again and sit beside me…Pikachu wanders in the room and jumps on the bed and peers over Emily laying under the covers…and everyone is wishing Emily goodnight…and she drifts away into peaceful sleep where I pray she dreams of love and special things.
Friday, January 1, 2010
"For last year's words belong to last year's language. And next year's words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning." - T.S
So, it’s New Year’s Day…and I’m thinking…
365 days have past…and they were some good and some not so good…
I started 2009 with Moma in the hospital and now the year is closing with Moma in the hospital. She has been in the hospital 4 times in the past 365 days and also rehabilitation in Cardinal Hill Hospital. She has cracked her tailbone, her head, her ribs, and coded twice (once before a colonoscopy in September and once just recently on Christmas Eve). Her ribs were cracked the first time they revived her. She has learned that her renal cancer has metastasized. She had taken six months of Sutent, a drug that shrinks the cancer cells. Her frail body cannot take anymore cancer fighting drugs. She has experienced frequent trips to the doctor and this last visit to the hospital, she’s had surgery, 7 units of blood, coded as I mentioned before, taking the nurses and all involved 22 minutes to bring her back and clear the code on Christmas Eve. She spent Christmas on the ventilator in ICU…with her children beside her. It’s been a rough haul for her and we don’t seem to have much relief in sight.
My Nephew, Ethan, spent a spell in the hospital this year as well. And Granny got bit by Aunt Juanita's cat while Aunt Juanita was in the hospital.
My Great Aunt spent a long time in the hospital also earlier this year with rehabilitation at Cardinal Hill, too. At one point, Aunt Juanita was in ICU on one wing of the 3rd floor while Moma was on the other end of the 3rd floor.
We moved my good friend Connie from Kansas to Lexington to live with Aunt Juanita when she was dismissed from Cardinal Hill to assist with daily tasks…turned out Aunt Juanita is an independent woman and we moved Ms. Connie in with us. Connie spent the summer with us and moved back to her home state in Washington in the middle of August…I think…I’ve lost track of time. Adjust to an additional member in the home and then adjust to her absence.
I’ve helped move my sister twice and after the second time, when she was settled, moved my moma in with her.
Papa was laid off from Flooring Gallery after working there as a contractor to manager for 32 some years. Just out of the blue…see ya, you gotta go. And he went peacefully with the promise that they would probably have him come back in the summer months. It never happened. But it didn’t need to cause he started his own business and it has blossomed into a booming success.
That turned out to be a blessing in many ways as Craig was out of work towards the end of the summer, due to the economy…so he assists Papa in the business. He is a VALUED worker as Papa is plumb bombarded with orders.
This year marked my first year on my own, of my dream job and off probation. It’s been a year of learning, growing and stumbling. Getting use to the schedule of court, training and 24/7 obligation. I took on Pool Patrol this summer. It was an extra day of work on one of my days off…in the heat, in full uniform, at Castlewood. We learn from our experiences…As much as I like to help…I think I’ll pass next time.
With Moma in the hospital, I’ve learned my “brother and sister’s in blue” are truly family…and I am doubly blessed.
Due to the hospital time I have put in earlier in the year, my exercise program went out the window so I had to hire a trainer, Jason Bush, with Body Structure to get back into the swing of things. That was different and yet very rewarding. At the completion of my paid time, I have been able to start a program called P90X. An extreme fitness program that isn’t for everyone, but I am really enjoying it. With Moma in the hospital the whole month of December, I’ve had to revamp my schedule quite a bit, but I am determined not to let the situation set me back in my routine. So far the worse I’ve had is spacing the workouts to every other day during week six of my program. I weigh less than I did when I started Academy and feel good despite the world crashing around me. Exercise is very therapeutic, you know.
I’ve still been able to keep up with my grandkiddos despite the crazy adventures of the year. Not as much as I would like though…it’s obvious my family has been on hold here and there. But for most of them, they are very understanding and encouraging…and that is what family is about…I do love my family!!!
I haven’t mentioned our addition! Daisy, our golden retriever, came to us in September. Watching Winston going downhill, we so wanted our next dog to have Winston as a role model. Daisy just fell in our lap via a co worker with Ariel. My goodness, it’s just like children and grandchildren…just when you think you could love no one more…another comes along and you find more room in your heart to share the love. Puppy love is amazing, too…so is the insurmountable puppy debris and training!
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In the craziness of it all, we still managed a grand vacation with camping, city life and ocean views…and Ed and Charlotte even met up with us in Washington DC. I was able to visit Deb in Texas on her birthday…and have a family get together for Thanksgiving at a nice little cabin in Corbin.
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I’ll be honest, my housework, and yard work has suffered over this year. You can write your name in the dust. I have had to find shortcuts to make the time stretch. Some of my relationships have suffered. Although it saddens me, to admit that, I can honestly say, I have made all the efforts possible within the craziness of the events to maintain all of my relationships. Some people just have a hard time adjusting to sharing and change. I can understand that even if I can’t make it better.
I want to be more organized this coming year. Organized in my home life, my occupation and my relationships…including my relationship with my God. I want to learn more…again in my home life, my occupation and in my relationships. I have spent the past 20 some years organizing and practicing my obsessive compulsiveness. This past year, I haven’t had even time to devote to those. I kinda like being on top of things.
Year 2009 has been incredibly challenging yet rewarding. I reckon that’s just how every year is…if we stand back and examine it. I like to do that when the time surfaces. May 2010 be a bit softer…and may my family and friends be blessed with good times that over shadow any rough ones.
Happy New Year! And in the words of Benjamin Franklin, “Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each New Year find you a better person.”
365 days have past…and they were some good and some not so good…
I started 2009 with Moma in the hospital and now the year is closing with Moma in the hospital. She has been in the hospital 4 times in the past 365 days and also rehabilitation in Cardinal Hill Hospital. She has cracked her tailbone, her head, her ribs, and coded twice (once before a colonoscopy in September and once just recently on Christmas Eve). Her ribs were cracked the first time they revived her. She has learned that her renal cancer has metastasized. She had taken six months of Sutent, a drug that shrinks the cancer cells. Her frail body cannot take anymore cancer fighting drugs. She has experienced frequent trips to the doctor and this last visit to the hospital, she’s had surgery, 7 units of blood, coded as I mentioned before, taking the nurses and all involved 22 minutes to bring her back and clear the code on Christmas Eve. She spent Christmas on the ventilator in ICU…with her children beside her. It’s been a rough haul for her and we don’t seem to have much relief in sight.
My Nephew, Ethan, spent a spell in the hospital this year as well. And Granny got bit by Aunt Juanita's cat while Aunt Juanita was in the hospital.
My Great Aunt spent a long time in the hospital also earlier this year with rehabilitation at Cardinal Hill, too. At one point, Aunt Juanita was in ICU on one wing of the 3rd floor while Moma was on the other end of the 3rd floor.
We moved my good friend Connie from Kansas to Lexington to live with Aunt Juanita when she was dismissed from Cardinal Hill to assist with daily tasks…turned out Aunt Juanita is an independent woman and we moved Ms. Connie in with us. Connie spent the summer with us and moved back to her home state in Washington in the middle of August…I think…I’ve lost track of time. Adjust to an additional member in the home and then adjust to her absence.
I’ve helped move my sister twice and after the second time, when she was settled, moved my moma in with her.
Papa was laid off from Flooring Gallery after working there as a contractor to manager for 32 some years. Just out of the blue…see ya, you gotta go. And he went peacefully with the promise that they would probably have him come back in the summer months. It never happened. But it didn’t need to cause he started his own business and it has blossomed into a booming success.
That turned out to be a blessing in many ways as Craig was out of work towards the end of the summer, due to the economy…so he assists Papa in the business. He is a VALUED worker as Papa is plumb bombarded with orders.
This year marked my first year on my own, of my dream job and off probation. It’s been a year of learning, growing and stumbling. Getting use to the schedule of court, training and 24/7 obligation. I took on Pool Patrol this summer. It was an extra day of work on one of my days off…in the heat, in full uniform, at Castlewood. We learn from our experiences…As much as I like to help…I think I’ll pass next time.
With Moma in the hospital, I’ve learned my “brother and sister’s in blue” are truly family…and I am doubly blessed.
Due to the hospital time I have put in earlier in the year, my exercise program went out the window so I had to hire a trainer, Jason Bush, with Body Structure to get back into the swing of things. That was different and yet very rewarding. At the completion of my paid time, I have been able to start a program called P90X. An extreme fitness program that isn’t for everyone, but I am really enjoying it. With Moma in the hospital the whole month of December, I’ve had to revamp my schedule quite a bit, but I am determined not to let the situation set me back in my routine. So far the worse I’ve had is spacing the workouts to every other day during week six of my program. I weigh less than I did when I started Academy and feel good despite the world crashing around me. Exercise is very therapeutic, you know.
I’ve still been able to keep up with my grandkiddos despite the crazy adventures of the year. Not as much as I would like though…it’s obvious my family has been on hold here and there. But for most of them, they are very understanding and encouraging…and that is what family is about…I do love my family!!!
I haven’t mentioned our addition! Daisy, our golden retriever, came to us in September. Watching Winston going downhill, we so wanted our next dog to have Winston as a role model. Daisy just fell in our lap via a co worker with Ariel. My goodness, it’s just like children and grandchildren…just when you think you could love no one more…another comes along and you find more room in your heart to share the love. Puppy love is amazing, too…so is the insurmountable puppy debris and training!
In the craziness of it all, we still managed a grand vacation with camping, city life and ocean views…and Ed and Charlotte even met up with us in Washington DC. I was able to visit Deb in Texas on her birthday…and have a family get together for Thanksgiving at a nice little cabin in Corbin.
I’ll be honest, my housework, and yard work has suffered over this year. You can write your name in the dust. I have had to find shortcuts to make the time stretch. Some of my relationships have suffered. Although it saddens me, to admit that, I can honestly say, I have made all the efforts possible within the craziness of the events to maintain all of my relationships. Some people just have a hard time adjusting to sharing and change. I can understand that even if I can’t make it better.
I want to be more organized this coming year. Organized in my home life, my occupation and my relationships…including my relationship with my God. I want to learn more…again in my home life, my occupation and in my relationships. I have spent the past 20 some years organizing and practicing my obsessive compulsiveness. This past year, I haven’t had even time to devote to those. I kinda like being on top of things.
Year 2009 has been incredibly challenging yet rewarding. I reckon that’s just how every year is…if we stand back and examine it. I like to do that when the time surfaces. May 2010 be a bit softer…and may my family and friends be blessed with good times that over shadow any rough ones.
Happy New Year! And in the words of Benjamin Franklin, “Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each New Year find you a better person.”
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Maybe Angels Whistle...
Moma is back in the hospital...bleeding in her intestines...looking at whether she is strong enough for surgery...She's been able to be involved in so many things since she stopped taking the cancer treatment. One of those decisions that is big and scary.
Yesterday as I left her at the hospital, it was raining, cold and dreary. I had Moma on my mind, the Lakewood officers and stress was dragging me down...I felt like I was walking thru mud to get to my car. I crossed the pedestrian walk just behind a woman carrying a blue and white polka dot umbrella that reminded me of Ms Beasley. She was quite a few steps in front of me, but I could hear her whistling. As I got closer to her, I recognized the tune from years past. Growing up in a country church we sung old hymns, most of the time without music...and I began singing the whole song as I got into the truck...and began driving home...of course, I got a little teary eyed as I thought about the words, my stresses and worries...but also because God is funny how He speaks to me...it's not everyday that angels in polka dots whistle "Trust and Obey"
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Where The Wild Things Are...there's one in all of us
We got to see the movie yesterday...with some special "wild things" and it was a hit! Just like most movies there is controversy over acceptable content. I read some reviews this morning...after I fed the "doggie wild things"...and while my "grand wild things" are "romping" about the bedroom...awake..but not ready to surface. The reviews weren't fair...so I thought I'd right my own...I will try to write it in such a way that you are informed but the movie isn't spoiled for you.
How can people who read the book...go to the movie and not know what they are going to see. It shouldn't be a surprise...the book is about an imaginative boy, who acts like a kid (that's why the darn wild things have parents) who lets his imagination "grow" and take him away into a wild monster filled land, that allows him to have his way...agree? Well...guess what...the movie has the same concept...
Clue...If your child wasn't happy with the book...then they probably won't be happy with the movie...just saying.
To keep from spoiling the movie...I'll be brief...Max is a youth that has a great imagination...feels lonely...and resents the activities of his sister and mother...because they are not involving him. He acts out (imagine, a youth acting out because they are not getting their way, negative attention will suffice) He does take off running from Mom...but guys he comes back...maybe get with the timeline...He runs out of the house at supper time...comes back and eats his supper before the days ends...His imagination was rolling during that hour, remember...
Max identifies with the monsters...Carol is a monster that wants his way...gets mad at those he loves when he doesn't get his way...and learns by the end of Max's adventure on the island that his behavior is not getting him what he wants. He feels remorse for ill behavior...awesome concept. Max gets to face the reality that everyone is different...they perceive and respond differently...and it's all good. There's team work...there's accomplishments...there's lesson's...there's humor...strange humor...and there's wild times...so wild...that one of my "grand wild things" who wishes to remain anonymous, got so involved with the wild rumpus that he begin kicking the seat in front of him, which prompted the patron in that seat to remind him it was occupied...
We had lots to talk about after the movie...we even talked about it more during dinner...which by the way I skipped the frozen corn...they loved it! We have howled and howled...we have talked about Max's explosive episode in the kitchen with his mother...we have pulled quotes from the movie and made each other laugh...like..."that was my favorite arm" and "it's just a dog, don't feed it or it will follow you around."
One good clue for those of you who are planning to take your children...if they weren't happy with the book...they probably won't be happy with the movie...and a 2 year old...wouldn't be ready for the movie...be realistic...it's rated PG for a reason. The "grand wild things" that Papa and I took to view it...were old enough to understand and reason.
If anything...the door is open to discuss how WE ALL (adults/parents included) want to act out sometimes...and how it can affect those around us...and better ways to handle our feelings.
Max is a precious boy. He was adorable, imaginative and growing wise...Several times during the movie, I leaned over and stated to Papa, how precious he was. Maybe, it's because I haven't raised perfect children that I can see precious beings in wild containers.
And it was good...all good.
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Did you see it? Whatcha think?
How can people who read the book...go to the movie and not know what they are going to see. It shouldn't be a surprise...the book is about an imaginative boy, who acts like a kid (that's why the darn wild things have parents) who lets his imagination "grow" and take him away into a wild monster filled land, that allows him to have his way...agree? Well...guess what...the movie has the same concept...
Clue...If your child wasn't happy with the book...then they probably won't be happy with the movie...just saying.
To keep from spoiling the movie...I'll be brief...Max is a youth that has a great imagination...feels lonely...and resents the activities of his sister and mother...because they are not involving him. He acts out (imagine, a youth acting out because they are not getting their way, negative attention will suffice) He does take off running from Mom...but guys he comes back...maybe get with the timeline...He runs out of the house at supper time...comes back and eats his supper before the days ends...His imagination was rolling during that hour, remember...
Max identifies with the monsters...Carol is a monster that wants his way...gets mad at those he loves when he doesn't get his way...and learns by the end of Max's adventure on the island that his behavior is not getting him what he wants. He feels remorse for ill behavior...awesome concept. Max gets to face the reality that everyone is different...they perceive and respond differently...and it's all good. There's team work...there's accomplishments...there's lesson's...there's humor...strange humor...and there's wild times...so wild...that one of my "grand wild things" who wishes to remain anonymous, got so involved with the wild rumpus that he begin kicking the seat in front of him, which prompted the patron in that seat to remind him it was occupied...
We had lots to talk about after the movie...we even talked about it more during dinner...which by the way I skipped the frozen corn...they loved it! We have howled and howled...we have talked about Max's explosive episode in the kitchen with his mother...we have pulled quotes from the movie and made each other laugh...like..."that was my favorite arm" and "it's just a dog, don't feed it or it will follow you around."
One good clue for those of you who are planning to take your children...if they weren't happy with the book...they probably won't be happy with the movie...and a 2 year old...wouldn't be ready for the movie...be realistic...it's rated PG for a reason. The "grand wild things" that Papa and I took to view it...were old enough to understand and reason.
If anything...the door is open to discuss how WE ALL (adults/parents included) want to act out sometimes...and how it can affect those around us...and better ways to handle our feelings.
Max is a precious boy. He was adorable, imaginative and growing wise...Several times during the movie, I leaned over and stated to Papa, how precious he was. Maybe, it's because I haven't raised perfect children that I can see precious beings in wild containers.
And it was good...all good.
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Did you see it? Whatcha think?
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
I Still Got It!...(with a little help from my friend)
There was a time when you could find me out with up to 10 babies/children/youths, a mixture most of the time...It was nothing for me to take them to the park, on a hike or to the swimming pool, etc. This morning Scarlet was going to take Mom to her doctor appointment and Becky had an appointment for her car. So...I volunteered to meet Scarlet and Becky at Fayette Mall, at 0915 take their younguns (both almost 2 years of age) to the play ground and go sight seeing. This I did until 1225. I'm still alive. Both children are safe and taking naps (at least Emily is right now... Ethan looked like he might zonk on the first roll of the wheels when his moma drove off with him)...visually overstimulated and not wanting the adventure to stop. We talked about mannequins without faces, without heads, remote helicopters, read books, romped on the playground several times, had a snack in the food court, went outside for a walk, looked at statues, flowers, listened to the birds and sang songs...The five little monkeys swinging in the tree, teasing Mr. Alligator, is definitely their favorite! For three hours...Hey, I still got it!
A little secret though...right before I left the house...I called my neighbor, Delva...who has five children, including a set of twins...and she let me borrow the BMW of all strollers. I'm not sure how my adventure would have turned out had I not had that little/big help from my friend! Bless you, Bless you, Delva!!!
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A little secret though...right before I left the house...I called my neighbor, Delva...who has five children, including a set of twins...and she let me borrow the BMW of all strollers. I'm not sure how my adventure would have turned out had I not had that little/big help from my friend! Bless you, Bless you, Delva!!!
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As I was getting out of the truck this morning at the Mall...Air1 was talking about a woman who went to the hospital thinking she was having a stroke...she was 41...turns out...she was in labor...and didn't even know she was pregnant...I WILL TAKE THREE HOURS WITH TWO - TWO YEARS OLDS ANY OLE DAY!!!!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Drooling in My Soup Bowl...
It's been almost 2 hours since I left the dentist office. She had to repair a filling I got when I was 12 years old...for those of you that are counting, yes, that was some time ago.
I'm starving...and I thought the numbness was almost gone. As I sit here, leaning over my bowl, trying to sponge the broth off my chin before it runs back into the bowl...I have an epiphany...this is what Doc meant...when she said, "Oh, I've numbed your mouth up good."
I'm starving...and I thought the numbness was almost gone. As I sit here, leaning over my bowl, trying to sponge the broth off my chin before it runs back into the bowl...I have an epiphany...this is what Doc meant...when she said, "Oh, I've numbed your mouth up good."
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Witty World of William...Again
William came in last night from running with his ROTC Major...he grabbed a Cliff, chocolate brownie flavor...as we sit in Johnny Carinos last night, 09/11/2009, recalling what he had eaten...he stated, "Whoever decided to name that flavor chocolate brownie was a radical optimist."
He says things like that...I can't seem to record them all.
He says things like that...I can't seem to record them all.
Friday, August 21, 2009
You Will Be Missed!
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After sharing a roof for 4 1/2 months...Connie packed up and we took her to meet her sister, Alice (from Puerto Rico), in Ohio to catch the Amtrack to Washington state. The picture you see was created by Connie when she had originally planned to drive back...that was before her car refused to be a part of the plan.
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Alice is 11 months younger than her sister Connie...and I know they will enjoy their time on the train...
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You will be missed around here, Ms Connie!!!I will miss my female companionship…with all her tidbits of information and wise sayings and pretty pictures…Jesse will miss you…he doesn’t realize all you do around here…but he will…William will miss you…not because he won’t have anyone to argue with…cause he’ll find that anywhere…he’ll truly miss you… Winston will miss you…I know he looked forward to your walks…Pikachu will miss you…and the little tidbits of food you shared…the garden will miss you…the birds will miss you…the neighbors will miss you…all the visitors that stop by will miss you…How will I ever make Emily understand where her Ms Connie is?
Just because I am not creative in expressing myself like you are…don’t think you’re leaving will be unnoticed…You will be sorely missed…I so wish you could have just gotten an apartment here in Lexington. Washington is so far away…but we’ve been here before and managed our friendship…we’ll do it again!
I wish the best for you in the new spot. I pray you can settle and gather dust. :O)
And no matter where you are…remember, your Donna loves you…even in her busiest times…
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Kentucky will miss you!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Seasonal Mistake
Back from vacation but still have a few days before I must return to work so, I set out today to take care of some house cleaning…that NEVER gets done unless I do it…and HAS NOT been done for a while…a year at least. The first item on my agenda was window cleaning. I believe this is a spring cleaning type of deal and was looking forward to completing the task. Windows are important to my serenity.
Yesterday evening when putting away the groceries I cracked my right elbow on the corner of the microwave. It was still swollen this morning and achy but this was the allotted time and so I ignored the elbow pain and at 8:30 this morning, I began by taking the little valances down from ten windows. I have more windows but these are the only ones with little lacy valances. I got them started in the wash and began on my bedroom windows. A little snafu occurred as I was taking the screens out…the little plastic, not good for anything locks on the screen broke.
This has happened before and it takes a bit of nudging the guy who is locked into his computer business. While I was attempting to lite the fire under him, I decided to use an ammonia/water mixture and the car washing brush to reach the outside top windows. Doing this created a white milky mess that was incredibly hard to get off the windows. I used vinegar, glass cleaner, and alcohol…not the drinking kind…however, if I had use the drinking kind, I might have not been so concerned with washing the windows. It was early morning though so, that option was out anyway. During the scrubbing, I hooked up the water hose to try and rinse whatever transfer I had made from the brush to the windows. NOTHING was working!!!! I switched from paper towels to a white t-shirt…still the same…I cut up a pair of jeans and use them…still the same. I was experiencing such difficulty beyond my belief!
After the combination of scrubbing, rinsing, not using the brush, leaning out the window backwards working my fingers to the bone the white milky smeary stuff was disappearing. I used all my glass cleaner up on the two windows in my bedroom. I had cut up clothes, I had climbed in and out the window so many times that my back was already hurting, my elbow was talking to me but Pa had gotten up and fixed the screens and the two windows were clean. So, I cleaned up the extensive mess and moved to the dining room area.
I mixed a vinegar/water mixture and used it on the back door glass with paper towels as a test. All is good and I move on. The three windows by the kitchen table should be easier to clean than the bedroom and I began…only to have two of the screens do the same thing the bedroom screens did…again, getting Pa’s attention and the screens were mended.
I then move to the front windows. I open the first one, and try to remove the screen and I don’t need to tell you what happened. I opened the second window and a swarm of ANTS went helter-skelter everywhere! I would shut the window and clean them up and when I would open it again, a bigger brood of ants would run into the house. Connie assisted in the killing as I got a bucket of water and went outside to douse the window and wash the pests away. It didn’t work…and so we are trying to control this invasion…I send Papa out with the broom to brush them off the sill…yes, even after the water they are still parading around in swarms…I found they were dropping out of the window casing…so from the inside of the house I started spraying up in the casing to make them fall out so Pa could sweep them off.
It was working really well until I accidentally sprayed Pa right in the eye with the vinegar/water solution. As I am apologizing profusely…he stops trying to treat his eye and I see him put his hand to his mouth. He spits something into his hand…couldn’t figure out what was happening…until he looked up and said, “I jumped back and knocked my teeth together and now my tooth is broke.” OH! MY! STINKING! GOODNESS!!!!! I postpone my fight with the ants and call the dentist, Connie continues to fight the ants and Pa goes to the bathroom to assess the damage.
They can see him today…I am so grateful. Ant poison was applied to the windows and the cleaning was eventually complete. Valances are hung back in place. I look up at the clock and it’s 1:00... 4 ½ hours to clean 10 windows. I have NEVER!!!! Taken so long…I used to clean houses for a living…I would clean a big house in Hartland, upstairs and down in 4 ½ hours, have something to show for it AND make good money!!!!
All I can figure is, window cleaning is a spring cleaning kind of deal and one should not try to wash windows in the summer.
Yesterday evening when putting away the groceries I cracked my right elbow on the corner of the microwave. It was still swollen this morning and achy but this was the allotted time and so I ignored the elbow pain and at 8:30 this morning, I began by taking the little valances down from ten windows. I have more windows but these are the only ones with little lacy valances. I got them started in the wash and began on my bedroom windows. A little snafu occurred as I was taking the screens out…the little plastic, not good for anything locks on the screen broke.
This has happened before and it takes a bit of nudging the guy who is locked into his computer business. While I was attempting to lite the fire under him, I decided to use an ammonia/water mixture and the car washing brush to reach the outside top windows. Doing this created a white milky mess that was incredibly hard to get off the windows. I used vinegar, glass cleaner, and alcohol…not the drinking kind…however, if I had use the drinking kind, I might have not been so concerned with washing the windows. It was early morning though so, that option was out anyway. During the scrubbing, I hooked up the water hose to try and rinse whatever transfer I had made from the brush to the windows. NOTHING was working!!!! I switched from paper towels to a white t-shirt…still the same…I cut up a pair of jeans and use them…still the same. I was experiencing such difficulty beyond my belief!
After the combination of scrubbing, rinsing, not using the brush, leaning out the window backwards working my fingers to the bone the white milky smeary stuff was disappearing. I used all my glass cleaner up on the two windows in my bedroom. I had cut up clothes, I had climbed in and out the window so many times that my back was already hurting, my elbow was talking to me but Pa had gotten up and fixed the screens and the two windows were clean. So, I cleaned up the extensive mess and moved to the dining room area.
I mixed a vinegar/water mixture and used it on the back door glass with paper towels as a test. All is good and I move on. The three windows by the kitchen table should be easier to clean than the bedroom and I began…only to have two of the screens do the same thing the bedroom screens did…again, getting Pa’s attention and the screens were mended.
I then move to the front windows. I open the first one, and try to remove the screen and I don’t need to tell you what happened. I opened the second window and a swarm of ANTS went helter-skelter everywhere! I would shut the window and clean them up and when I would open it again, a bigger brood of ants would run into the house. Connie assisted in the killing as I got a bucket of water and went outside to douse the window and wash the pests away. It didn’t work…and so we are trying to control this invasion…I send Papa out with the broom to brush them off the sill…yes, even after the water they are still parading around in swarms…I found they were dropping out of the window casing…so from the inside of the house I started spraying up in the casing to make them fall out so Pa could sweep them off.
It was working really well until I accidentally sprayed Pa right in the eye with the vinegar/water solution. As I am apologizing profusely…he stops trying to treat his eye and I see him put his hand to his mouth. He spits something into his hand…couldn’t figure out what was happening…until he looked up and said, “I jumped back and knocked my teeth together and now my tooth is broke.” OH! MY! STINKING! GOODNESS!!!!! I postpone my fight with the ants and call the dentist, Connie continues to fight the ants and Pa goes to the bathroom to assess the damage.
They can see him today…I am so grateful. Ant poison was applied to the windows and the cleaning was eventually complete. Valances are hung back in place. I look up at the clock and it’s 1:00... 4 ½ hours to clean 10 windows. I have NEVER!!!! Taken so long…I used to clean houses for a living…I would clean a big house in Hartland, upstairs and down in 4 ½ hours, have something to show for it AND make good money!!!!
All I can figure is, window cleaning is a spring cleaning kind of deal and one should not try to wash windows in the summer.
View I noticed from my kitchen window as I was cleaning. Taken after the cleaning of course!
Monday, August 3, 2009
Two days without internet service or shower capibilites...three days without a signal on my cell phone. The first few hours of no signal were distresting...but it got easier as the time went by. We get use to our technology and can't imagine life without it.
My camera can't even measure up what has transpired in the first leg of our trip. The photos taken don't even come close to the first hand sight of the wide open sky view with mountains after mountains looking like ocean waves in a distance. It couldn't capture the thrill of playing around in the pool with my husband...yes, youngun's Pa was in the pool, "swimming like a seal."
I didn't dare use my camera to capture the stuning flutterby that was resting on dog turds.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
DEDICATION
Papa was caught documenting this incident so I thought I'd share one of the photos with you.Every week on the first day back to work, we have inspection...our cruiser's are to be clean inside and out. Seems like since I have been on the Friday, Saturday, Sunday RDO's ...every Monday back is either rainy or looks like rain. Well, this Monday it was one of those "bring it on" rains. So, I took advantage of it and did a little maintenance...it's looks like dedication...but it might have just been an excuse to play in the rain!
And it's an opportunity to let the former co-worker from FCDC see I do use the umbrella!
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Deja Vu
I'm sure you all know that William is the last one home...I'm not sure if he's more difficult then the past five (Ariel would say he most certainly is), but I do know I am tired of the speeches that I have given over the years and how they consistently have to be repeated as if they were never heard before. At fifteen, for crying out loud, don't they get it by then!?
I was thinking...Instead of the same speech over and over again...why not have a pop up player, in the hallway, on the wall, set up with each speech...(it's the same thing over and over anyway)...and instead of raising my blood pressure or wasting my precious time when he has taken yet another half hour shower, I would say, "William, go listen to the "water speech" or when he tells me yet another lie, Go listen to the honesty speech." And so on and so on. Because, I feel like I'm been here before...wasting my breath!
I was thinking...Instead of the same speech over and over again...why not have a pop up player, in the hallway, on the wall, set up with each speech...(it's the same thing over and over anyway)...and instead of raising my blood pressure or wasting my precious time when he has taken yet another half hour shower, I would say, "William, go listen to the "water speech" or when he tells me yet another lie, Go listen to the honesty speech." And so on and so on. Because, I feel like I'm been here before...wasting my breath!
Friday, June 12, 2009
Donna's idiom
So, I am getting ready for work Thursday afternoon and drop to the floor to commence push-ups. My dog, Winston, is lying on the floor approximately 12 inches from my body. Pikachu, my cat, is lying cozy on the bed curled up around my duty belt, as she is a cat with a weapon fetish. My husband is sitting in the chair beside the window, stroking his everloving laptop....
I complete my push-ups and sit back into a shell position...and moan...loudly...and with much expression. Winston, looks up at me, inches away, moans and lays his head back down. Pa doesn't even look up...and Pikachu, the most coziest in the room...jumps up and off the bed, meowing as she quickly comes to my arm and rubs her head against it and continues to cat speak.
Which makes me think...Pika is a female, for sure...she sees a loved one experiencing a diffiicult time...who calls out in need...and without wasting anytime comes to her aid, giving encouragment.
And so...I am reminded to thank all my girlfriends out there...remember we gotta stick together. It's a "dog eat dog world."
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I complete my push-ups and sit back into a shell position...and moan...loudly...and with much expression. Winston, looks up at me, inches away, moans and lays his head back down. Pa doesn't even look up...and Pikachu, the most coziest in the room...jumps up and off the bed, meowing as she quickly comes to my arm and rubs her head against it and continues to cat speak.
Which makes me think...Pika is a female, for sure...she sees a loved one experiencing a diffiicult time...who calls out in need...and without wasting anytime comes to her aid, giving encouragment.
And so...I am reminded to thank all my girlfriends out there...remember we gotta stick together. It's a "dog eat dog world."
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