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My Mom just died in Feb. and I'm an only child. Over the past few years as she spent more and more time in hospitals and rehab, I spent a lot of time showing her pictures and tapping into her memories. She was the last left of her 11 siblings, so once she was gone, that would be "it" for the memories of growing up in the Depression and World War II in a big Irish Catholic family.
I didn't realize how lucky I was to have that closeness, until I was at a surgery center yesterday for an outpatient procedure. Though curtains were drawn, I could hear a conversation between a woman maybe late 70's or early 80's, and a younger woman who was keeping her company until the procedure. There was so much they didn't seem to know about one another, I thought perhaps it was a neighbor or granddaughter....but then I heard the word "Mom". And it was rather memorable events, such as the daughter's mentioning that some drug causes her to go into shock....like the mother had never heard this before. I thought -- Wow, they either had one big family, or this woman has lost some mental capacity. In any event, I'm just glad I had the time to spend with my Mom and will always cherish the memory of her happy face as she was in her hospital bed looking at old photos and giving me the background info.
Avalon08...I'm sorry you lost your Mom. Great that you were able to spend so much time with her and grow even closer before she left..But sad that she is gone...I guess some families have sort of a "don't talk much" rule..I have a friend who is like this today. (And her family is this way.)...Personal talk is kept to a minimum. It's okay to talk about general things at times. And exchange functional information when needed. (Like what to eat for dinner or which team won a game etc.)...But they don't show much interest or curiosity when it comes to getting to know each other in-depth...Everything is kept at a surface-level...The other day my friend's husband attended a class for the first time. When I saw my friend I asked her how her husband felt about the class...She seemed stunned that I would ask and was silent for a moment. Then she said: "I guess he did okay in the class. He didn't complain about anything."....It's as if my friend and her family live a "don't ask, don't tell" or "don't go there" kind of life with each other...It works for them but it definitely seems foreign to me.
Upstate Nancy...Thanks for caring...My friend probably felt that she was doing me a favor by telling me to put the past behind me right after my husband died. She wanted to "toughen me up" fast!..It reminded me of how some parents act when their kids fall down or skin their knee etc. The kids are told: "Don't be a baby! Don't cry! Pick yourself up and move on!"... My friend seemed afraid that I might get stuck (or bogged-down) in my grief and weaken and handicap myself or ??...I wasn't crying on her shoulder everyday. (Just like I'm not crying on anyone's shoulder today and everyday about losing my son.)...But my friend obviously had a lot of fears about taking time out to grieve. She didn't have much faith or trust in me. In her mind she was "mom" and "right" and she felt compelled to "set me straight." (For my own supposed "good!")
My mother died on September 23, 1986, 26 years ago today and one day before my birthday. She was riddled with cancer that had started as lung cancer and metastasized to her brain, spine, and most of her organs.
She wanted to die at home so we had a hospital bed in the den right next to the dining room. The dining room was the hub of our house. It was where we all ate and sat to talk and just hang out. Mom always sat at her spot at the end of the table to read and drink coffee or wine.
My sister, her husband and kids, and my other sister all lived with Mom and took care of her. I lived less than 2 miles away in my own apartment. Married sister called me very early on the morning of the 23rd to tell me that our Mom had passed away during the night and that I should come as soon as I could before the funeral home came to take her away.
I came right away and went in to hold my Mom's hand, kiss her forehead and tell her I loved her. After that, I sat down at the dining room table with the rest of the family. Before long there were at least 15 of us sitting around...five of us kids, sister's kids and husband, and old family friends that came to the door to join us. It was only 11AM or so by that time, but we decided to have a glass of wine to celebrate Mom.
As we are sitting there talking and laughing and crying and sipping wine with Mom's remains just in the next room, we notice some activity outside the windows of both the dining room and the den where Mom is. We all look around very puzzled and then suddenly my sister says "Damn, I forgot the house painters were starting today!" Hilarity ensues and they next day, my birthday, we picked out a coffin.
Maggie, my mother died the same way, lung cancer that spread to her bones, breast, GI. She was just 52.
Our family had a little "tradition" when we gather (it started at Thanksgiving, somebody flung some cranberry sauce and it landed on my grandfather's forehead. He never cracked a smile, as he looked around the table trying to determine who did it..the sauce was moving down his forehead)
My mother told her niece, years before she became sick, that when she died, she wanted us to have a food fight in memory of her. She is buried in a pretty small town, but we found a restaurant that had a room we could use for our "private" party.
Mom would have been proud. There was salad, pizza, spaghetti, it was all flying. My great grandmother and my grandmother were still alive and food would land on my great grandmother, she had a very delayed reaction to being hit with a cherry tomato, leaving salad dressing on her face..
We had a big mess to clean up, the staff was very understanding of our need to celebrate my mom's life in the way she had wanted us to.
This time last year my son was home and we thought he'd be "okay." He had just gone through his first brain tumor surgery. And he went to rehab to regain his ability to walk and talk again etc...Anyway it was a "good time" for us. We both felt relieved and hopeful about the future...The weather had started to cool down here in the desert. (Which made us happy!) And we were looking forward to the holidays. (Even though we still missed my husband who died in 2010.)...But our "happy times" didn't last for long because my son ended-up having a seizure. Later another cancerous brain tumor popped-up and he had a 2nd surgery in late Nov...It took a long time for him to be able to speak again. But he finally did and this gave us "hope." He had a lot of nerve damage on his right side and it was a lot harder for him to walk and move around...He went through intensive chemo and radiation. I was so proud of the way he took joy in simple little things. And stayed positive most of the time and held-on to his sense of humor...It's still hard to accept that he is "gone" now. And won't be coming back!..I know that he doesn't want me to suffer and suffer and "die-off" too. But it's probably going to take me a little while to "come back to life!"
Okay, people, I am now ready to share the most hilarious story of my life! (sorry, Honey)
Earl and I were in bed and he decided he wanted to make love. After some "getting ready" time, he opened the night stand drawer. (this is in the dark I might add) You ladies might understand when I say I was post menapausal. Soooo, he grabs what he thought was my "joy jelly" as I called it, and as soon as he opened the tube I smelled and tried to stop him with a "NO!!!!!! " Too late. OMG, what ensued were hours of hysterics from me (I couldn't help myself no matter how hard I tried) and howls of pain from him. He tried so hard to wash the Ben-Gay off but the damage was done. He now had a "turtle". LMAO, LMAO, LMAO! (I'm LMAO just typing this!) Needless to say, no nookie happened.
He went to the doc after that and the doc informed him that the only thing he could offer Earl was an operation to put a pump in and he'd have to manually pump himself up when the urge arose. (no pun intended but it works! ) Earl and I discussed it and we both agreed that the sex wasn't worth it. By that we meant we loved each other enough to not let this have much of an impact on our marriage and it didn't.
I hope my story brought you guys a good belly laugh with tears like I experienced!
Soooo, he grabs what he thought was my "joy jelly" as I called it, and as soon as he opened the tube I smelled and tried to stop him with a "NO!!!!!! " Too late. OMG, what ensued were hours of hysterics from me (I couldn't help myself no matter how hard I tried) and howls of pain from him. He tried so hard to wash the Ben-Gay off but the damage was done.
Oh, dear ...
Along those lines ... When I met my spouse, he had an elderly cat who was a little cranky. He acted like a three-year-old who didn't want Daddy to bring home a new Mommy. The cat would go to great lengths in letting me know my presence was not welcome, from throwing up in my shoes to leaving the room when I walked into it (and when we first moved in together, we lived in a two-room apartment!). So when we would start getting romantic, the cat would stand at the head of the bed and howl. If that didn't stop us, he'd hop up onto the bed and howl some more. It was an old apartment and the bedroom door didn't shut the whole way, so we couldn't lock him out. We managed, but it was hilarious to see the cat go through such trouble to annoy me. I never worried about it, since I knew I could outlast him.
Along those lines ... When I met my spouse, he had an elderly cat who was a little cranky. He acted like a three-year-old who didn't want Daddy to bring home a new Mommy. The cat would go to great lengths in letting me know my presence was not welcome, from throwing up in my shoes to leaving the room when I walked into it (and when we first moved in together, we lived in a two-room apartment!). So when we would start getting romantic, the cat would stand at the head of the bed and howl. If that didn't stop us, he'd hop up onto the bed and howl some more. It was an old apartment and the bedroom door didn't shut the whole way, so we couldn't lock him out. We managed, but it was hilarious to see the cat go through such trouble to annoy me. I never worried about it, since I knew I could outlast him.
That's too funny, Ohio! Hmmm, I've never had an animal dislike any partner I've had. Has the howler gone over the Rainbow Bridge?
That's too funny, Ohio! Hmmm, I've never had an animal dislike any partner I've had. Has the howler gone over the Rainbow Bridge?
Oh, yes, he died six years ago, poor thing. He was 17. I actually missed him when he was gone. He's buried in the backyard.
And then we were "found" by two stray tuxedo cats ... who were much more respectful of our private moments! LOL
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Soooo, he grabs what he thought was my "joy jelly" as I called it, and as soon as he opened the tube I smelled and tried to stop him with a "NO!!!!!! 
OMG, what ensued were hours of hysterics from me (I couldn't help myself no matter how hard I tried) and howls of pain from him. 
He tried so hard to wash the Ben-Gay off but the damage was done. He now had a "turtle". LMAO, LMAO, LMAO! (I'm LMAO just typing this!) Needless to say, no nookie happened. 
