I've had some realities hit me today in a way that I did not anticipate. I received my first shipment of Humira from the pharmacy. I've spent the last few days on the phone with various nurses and PAs talking about what to expect and what I'll need to prepare for my first injection. But watching all of the training videos and tutorials did not prepare me for the wave of emotion I would feel just unboxing the materials.
It makes it real in a way that nothing else has so far. My hospital visit, though serious and lonely, still made it feel like it was temporary somehow. You know, something to get through and then never worry about again - like my other surgeries. Even the pain I've had since I got out of the hospital seemed short term - live with it until you figure out how to manage it. But opening this box and realizing I'll have to take this shot every two weeks put it in the same column as Diabetes for me.
Diabetes being something my mother has and has to control through diet and insulin shots. It's something she'll always have and it's not going to go away entirely. She's a sick person and the last thing I ever wanted to be was a sick person. I'm not even sure how else to describe it.
It's real, it's happening, and I don't want it.
Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 16, 2020
Monday, February 27, 2017
36th Birthday
I've meant to be better about writing this year and so far I've failed miserably - both here and in my personal journal. Though I've started to Bullet Journal in place of my traditional planner and that has captured the other 10% of the space I'd use in my personal journal. There are a number of other goals that I have yet to begin, but I need to remember that it is only February and there are 10 other months left in the year.
My mother has been able to successfully start on one of her major goals - decluttering - and I could not resist asking her to send me a few of her old pattern books. I thought they might be useful items to sell in my Etsy shop and I am, therefore, considering it an investment in the future and not adding to my own clutter that desperately needs to be culled.
In the last six months, I cannot help but think of my mother and what she was like at my age. As a child you always have a limited understanding of your parents as people and it's only when you begin to live your own life that you wonder about theirs. I have found myself in the local art store coveting some of the fancier supplies they sell and wishing I had a dedicating space to work on projects. And then I remember the art corner my mother once had in our basement and all the amazing things she stored there.
Did she want to be an artist? Meaning a professional or semi-professional one that was able to create art that could be sold in coffee shops and local boutiques? I remember her sewing, cross stitching, and designing so many different things when I was younger. Had she ever considered working in a creative field like graphic design, cartooning, painting, or screen printing?
I always felt that my mother was this incredibly talented woman who could make anything. When I talk to her now, she will demur and say that she's not that good at x, y, or z thing when I know she is. She'll ask me to create things for her, that I know she could easily do herself, but for some reason she doesn't have the confidence that she could. I didn't develop my talents in a vacuum, they were learned from watching her or listening to her talk about her projects. So I wonder what happened between 36 and 65 to bring her to that point where she doubts her own abilities.
If I could go back in time, and meet my mother as a peer, what kind of person would she be? Would I be able to inspire her to follow some deeply hidden dream? What will I wish I had done now when I'm 65?
My mother has been able to successfully start on one of her major goals - decluttering - and I could not resist asking her to send me a few of her old pattern books. I thought they might be useful items to sell in my Etsy shop and I am, therefore, considering it an investment in the future and not adding to my own clutter that desperately needs to be culled.
In the last six months, I cannot help but think of my mother and what she was like at my age. As a child you always have a limited understanding of your parents as people and it's only when you begin to live your own life that you wonder about theirs. I have found myself in the local art store coveting some of the fancier supplies they sell and wishing I had a dedicating space to work on projects. And then I remember the art corner my mother once had in our basement and all the amazing things she stored there.
Did she want to be an artist? Meaning a professional or semi-professional one that was able to create art that could be sold in coffee shops and local boutiques? I remember her sewing, cross stitching, and designing so many different things when I was younger. Had she ever considered working in a creative field like graphic design, cartooning, painting, or screen printing?
I always felt that my mother was this incredibly talented woman who could make anything. When I talk to her now, she will demur and say that she's not that good at x, y, or z thing when I know she is. She'll ask me to create things for her, that I know she could easily do herself, but for some reason she doesn't have the confidence that she could. I didn't develop my talents in a vacuum, they were learned from watching her or listening to her talk about her projects. So I wonder what happened between 36 and 65 to bring her to that point where she doubts her own abilities.
If I could go back in time, and meet my mother as a peer, what kind of person would she be? Would I be able to inspire her to follow some deeply hidden dream? What will I wish I had done now when I'm 65?
Monday, June 1, 2015
The End of an Era
In May, my last grandparent passed away. We weren't exceptionally close, but she was still my grandmother.
It started with a call from my mother saying that Grandma had fallen and they were taking her to the hospital. I didn't think much about it because she had fallen before and was able to recover. But at 88 years old, there's always cause for concern. It turns out that she had a heart attack the previous day and had ignored the warning signs. She'd opted not to go to the hospital and went to bed instead. The damage to her heart was permanent by the time she fell and there was nothing to do but wait.
My sister and I arrived in Florida the same evening, but didn't get to see Grandma in the hospital until the following day. She stayed in the ICU for 3 days and was then moved to Hospice care. I have to say that the staff at Hospice of Marion County were fantastic. They were very respectful to my grandmother and very helpful to the rest of the family. We're also incredibly grateful to the help provided by the Salvation Army Center of Hope so that we didn't have to worry about ridiculous hotel fees.
When my father's parents died, it was sudden and we didn't have time to get there. When my mother's father died, I was very young so it affected me differently. For this grandparent, though, we were able to say goodbye and spend time with her at the very last of her days. It was a surreal experience that I hope to never repeat, though I know that at some point I may have to. With knowing that my parents are now orphans comes the realization that they're the next generation to go.
Certainly, there could be a terrible accident that could take another family member sooner, but for all intents and purposes they're the next on the list of possibilities. This is a frightening realization for me and something on which I try not to dwell. But it certainly makes me question a lot of things in my life and wonder what kind of story people will tell about me when they have to speak over my coffin.
It started with a call from my mother saying that Grandma had fallen and they were taking her to the hospital. I didn't think much about it because she had fallen before and was able to recover. But at 88 years old, there's always cause for concern. It turns out that she had a heart attack the previous day and had ignored the warning signs. She'd opted not to go to the hospital and went to bed instead. The damage to her heart was permanent by the time she fell and there was nothing to do but wait.
My sister and I arrived in Florida the same evening, but didn't get to see Grandma in the hospital until the following day. She stayed in the ICU for 3 days and was then moved to Hospice care. I have to say that the staff at Hospice of Marion County were fantastic. They were very respectful to my grandmother and very helpful to the rest of the family. We're also incredibly grateful to the help provided by the Salvation Army Center of Hope so that we didn't have to worry about ridiculous hotel fees.
When my father's parents died, it was sudden and we didn't have time to get there. When my mother's father died, I was very young so it affected me differently. For this grandparent, though, we were able to say goodbye and spend time with her at the very last of her days. It was a surreal experience that I hope to never repeat, though I know that at some point I may have to. With knowing that my parents are now orphans comes the realization that they're the next generation to go.
Certainly, there could be a terrible accident that could take another family member sooner, but for all intents and purposes they're the next on the list of possibilities. This is a frightening realization for me and something on which I try not to dwell. But it certainly makes me question a lot of things in my life and wonder what kind of story people will tell about me when they have to speak over my coffin.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
30 years of the Little Tikes Cozy Coupe
Like most car companies, Little Tikes has presented a newer, sleeker model for the next generation. I'm not sure of the actual measurements but it seems a little bit smaller to me (like the Cadbury Creme Eggs on the shelves this Easter). The wheels seem sturdier and should allow one's sister to ride on top without fear of bending the wire axle. And I would bet money that the windshield bars won't pop out unexpectedly during playtime. Little Tikes has rounded out the features to create a visually pleasing toy and I applaud these efforts. But is it really necessary to give the Cozy Coupe eyes as if it's a character in Disney's Cars?
Remembering my first car makes me realize why I picked my grown-up car. Maybe I should consider a custom paint job to make the roof yellow?
Or maybe this should be my next car?
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
30 days to live....
The theme of the Easter sermon I heard on Sunday was "30 days to live" and the pastor asked everyone what they would do if they found out they only had that long left in their lives. He was trying to make a point about how we live our lives on a daily basis and what we should be focused on instead. Basically, stop worrying about keeping up with the Joneses and start thinking about the legacy you're leaving here on Earth. Pastor Skip, I'll call him, gave a list of things that he would do if he only had 30 days to live and, though they were admirable, they were not the first things that popped into my mind.
If I were told, with absolute certainty, that I was going to die in 30 days and there wasn't anything I could do about it, I would probably spend the first day completely shell shocked. The next day I'd probably cry, the third I'd fall apart completely, and by the fourth I would make a list of all the things I wanted to do before my final day.
Which is probably Pastor Skip's entire point. It's important to take a look at one's life and really question why we do the things we do. What is important? How do we waste our time and how could we use that time more effectively? We are not guaranteed tomorrow, at any age, and we shouldn't take the days we have for granted.
If I were told, with absolute certainty, that I was going to die in 30 days and there wasn't anything I could do about it, I would probably spend the first day completely shell shocked. The next day I'd probably cry, the third I'd fall apart completely, and by the fourth I would make a list of all the things I wanted to do before my final day.
- I'd fly my mother up to Maryland.
- I'd fly my sister up to Maryland.
- Take the trip to Japan with my sister.
- See Paris one more time and actually go to the Louvre.
- Give my 15 year old cousin a driving lesson.
- Buy the most expensive bottle of Scotch I can find and drink it with my family and friends.
- Get in a bar fight, knock someone over the head with a bottle, and throw a stool through a window.
- Go home with a stranger.
- Get a tattoo.
- Ride a horse.
- Swim in the Pacific Ocean.
- Have a photo session with my photographer friend
- Challenge my dad to see who can eat the most Goll's Bakery Donuts and Apple Turnovers before getting sick.
- Break all of my dishes.
- Throw a huge party and invite everyone. And the biggest gift had better have a card attached that says, "Thank you, for being a friend."
Which is probably Pastor Skip's entire point. It's important to take a look at one's life and really question why we do the things we do. What is important? How do we waste our time and how could we use that time more effectively? We are not guaranteed tomorrow, at any age, and we shouldn't take the days we have for granted.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Restore Church::Experiencing Life
Went with my aunt and cousin to the Easter service at their church this weekend. It's a newer church in my hometown and apparently has all the older, established churches concerned. After my visit, I can see why. I was directed to park in a vacant lot across the street from what we call Reverend Pittam's church. (I'm not really sure why we call it that other than, obviously, there is/was a Reverend Pittam and this was his church.) As I got out of my car, the music coming from the church caught my attention. It sounded like a party or a local rock band show was inside. There were several people wearing red t-shirts that said "Restore Church Dream Team" on them. They were all greeting people and handing out "care packages" to new comers. I declined to interact with these people as I was looking for my aunt, but my understanding is that the bags they were handing out contained some basic info about the church, a bible, and a few other religious themed goodies.
Once inside, the lighting was darker as if attending a performance or, again, local rock show. There was a stage up front with fancy show lighting and a full band. People were crowded near the back by the coffee bar and snack table. They were all "fellowshipping" with one another and I thought it was interesting that the church set this up before the service and not after like the Baptist church used to do. The snack table had a beautiful spread of donuts, bagels, yogurt, fruit, and cupcakes decorated with Peeps. The healthier options were prominently displayed and I was surprised when, during the sermon, people got up to help themselves to more snacks. The whole place exuded a sense of welcome and had a laid back atmosphere. Many people were there in jeans and t-shirts and even those in their Sunday best didn't seem to mind.
Even though this was their third service for the day, there was very little about it that felt practiced or rehearsed. Obviously, the music had that rehearsed feeling but my concern is always with the sermon. I've been to big "McChurches" where the pastor tells the same jokes and makes the same points anywhere from 4-10 times in a day. By the tenth performance, it doesn't have that genuine feel to it anymore and I tend to zone out. But this pastor was clearly passionate about what he was doing. His sermon didn't feel like he was playing for an audience, even though I know there had to be some recycled jokes. He was energetic and enthusiastic which is important for any presentation.
The church also has networking down to a science. They made use of social media and modern technology to engage with their congregation even outside of the typical Sunday service. I heard a couple of stories about how the leadership team made a point to contact someone when they noticed the person had posted on Facebook about a sad or difficult time they were going through. I also noticed one or two key people from the older, established churches helping out during the service. They seem to recognize talent whether it's with children, technology, music, speaking, etc. It makes me wish they'd been around when my mother was in town. They could have used her talents to their utmost effectiveness and she would have benefited from the joy of spreading her love of God.
It was interesting to visit, though I felt more like an observer than a participant. This has been my reaction to most church services of late. I pick apart the service like a performance or presentation and don't feel as moved as I did when I was younger. I don't know if this is cynicism or just that I've grown up and can recognize intentional manipulation. (To be fair, I do the same with certain movie plot lines.) Perhaps this is a sign that business school really is suited for me, but I kept thinking about the whole experience as if the church were trying to sell me a product. Which, of course, they are. It's just weird for me to think about it in those terms.
Once inside, the lighting was darker as if attending a performance or, again, local rock show. There was a stage up front with fancy show lighting and a full band. People were crowded near the back by the coffee bar and snack table. They were all "fellowshipping" with one another and I thought it was interesting that the church set this up before the service and not after like the Baptist church used to do. The snack table had a beautiful spread of donuts, bagels, yogurt, fruit, and cupcakes decorated with Peeps. The healthier options were prominently displayed and I was surprised when, during the sermon, people got up to help themselves to more snacks. The whole place exuded a sense of welcome and had a laid back atmosphere. Many people were there in jeans and t-shirts and even those in their Sunday best didn't seem to mind.
Even though this was their third service for the day, there was very little about it that felt practiced or rehearsed. Obviously, the music had that rehearsed feeling but my concern is always with the sermon. I've been to big "McChurches" where the pastor tells the same jokes and makes the same points anywhere from 4-10 times in a day. By the tenth performance, it doesn't have that genuine feel to it anymore and I tend to zone out. But this pastor was clearly passionate about what he was doing. His sermon didn't feel like he was playing for an audience, even though I know there had to be some recycled jokes. He was energetic and enthusiastic which is important for any presentation.
The church also has networking down to a science. They made use of social media and modern technology to engage with their congregation even outside of the typical Sunday service. I heard a couple of stories about how the leadership team made a point to contact someone when they noticed the person had posted on Facebook about a sad or difficult time they were going through. I also noticed one or two key people from the older, established churches helping out during the service. They seem to recognize talent whether it's with children, technology, music, speaking, etc. It makes me wish they'd been around when my mother was in town. They could have used her talents to their utmost effectiveness and she would have benefited from the joy of spreading her love of God.
It was interesting to visit, though I felt more like an observer than a participant. This has been my reaction to most church services of late. I pick apart the service like a performance or presentation and don't feel as moved as I did when I was younger. I don't know if this is cynicism or just that I've grown up and can recognize intentional manipulation. (To be fair, I do the same with certain movie plot lines.) Perhaps this is a sign that business school really is suited for me, but I kept thinking about the whole experience as if the church were trying to sell me a product. Which, of course, they are. It's just weird for me to think about it in those terms.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Davy Jones - February 29th
I became acquainted with them in 1986 when MTV re-ran episodes of The Monkees. Even though I am a second generation fan, it still feels like a little piece of my childhood is gone.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
In Case You Didn't Believe Me....
They could be body doubles....
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| Mom and Dad 1977 |
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| Annette and Frankie |
They could be body doubles....
Thursday, October 20, 2011
October 20th - Ten Years Later
Ten years ago, I made a decision about my personal life. I checked off one of life's milestones and haven't looked back since. I was completely mad for this guy. And even though I had been religious in my middle school/early high school years, I came to the realization that I really wanted to have sex with my boyfriend. It was something of an internal struggle for several months because I knew what I'd been taught but my heart was telling me something completely different. I couldn't resolve these conflicting desires (the desire to be "good" and the desire to be with my boyfriend) so, I talked about it with my mother, my source for spiritual guidance, and her only advice was that, while she would prefer I not have sex before marriage, it was my own life and I had to make the decision for myself. She also encouraged me to consider any and all consequences and judge whether or not I could handle them. Then, I talked about it with my aunt, my source for worldly guidance, and her advice was that I should make sure to protect myself. She also asked me if I was sure this was the right person. She said that that particular event in life would be something I'd always remember and the person I was with would forever be connected to that memory.
And, looking back now, that was probably the best advice I could have gotten on the subject. It is the first piece of advice I offer to the new crop of youngins, after reminding them to make sure they protect themselves of course. Because it is now ten years later and I do remember that day. When I think of that moment in my life, it is connected to the person I was with. And you know what? Even with the things that happened after and even with the way that relationship ended, I don't regret making that decision. And I celebrate that decision on this particular date every year and re-evaluate how I feel about it. I can still say that it was a positive choice and I'm grateful that I wasn't completely ignorant of the impact that decision would have on my life. I'm glad that I had people I could talk to openly and honestly about it and that I took my time to think instead of following whatever impulse I had in the moment.
But thinking about how I viewed sex then and where I am now, I can't help but laugh at myself. If I were able to go back and talk to my 20 year old self, I don't know that I could say anything that would have made that decision easier. The person I was then is most certainly not who I am now. I know that this was part of a chapter in the volume of my life and so much of where I've been plays a part in where I am going. I truly believe we are the sum of our life experiences and I hope that I will continue to make positive decisions that will help me to grow and change over time. That I can look back ten years from now and realize that I've matured so much. I hope that I don't look back on decisions and cringe with embarrassment or regret. And I hope I can love who I will be at 40 just as much as I love who I am at 30 and who I was at 20.
And, looking back now, that was probably the best advice I could have gotten on the subject. It is the first piece of advice I offer to the new crop of youngins, after reminding them to make sure they protect themselves of course. Because it is now ten years later and I do remember that day. When I think of that moment in my life, it is connected to the person I was with. And you know what? Even with the things that happened after and even with the way that relationship ended, I don't regret making that decision. And I celebrate that decision on this particular date every year and re-evaluate how I feel about it. I can still say that it was a positive choice and I'm grateful that I wasn't completely ignorant of the impact that decision would have on my life. I'm glad that I had people I could talk to openly and honestly about it and that I took my time to think instead of following whatever impulse I had in the moment.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Randomness
This morning, while searching through Etsy for possible co-worker Christmas gift ideas, I came across a Halloween costume (A Roman Toga) that brought up a neglected memory for me.
Picture this: Little Town, Havre de Grace, 1993, seventh grade social studies class with Mr. Ewart. We were studying the Ancient Greek and Roman Civilizations and were present projects to the class. Some people made traditional Greek or Italian foods for mass consumption, some made dioramas, others present special reports on aspects of these ancient lives. I decided to focus on the clothing, for some reason. I wasn't exactly fashion conscious in those days, and not much better now, so I'm not sure why I picked this one. Except that possibly it had the chance I would get to dress in a costume.
I remember that Mom was very helpful in putting together my presentation. We went to the library together and she helped me to do some of my first major research as a student. We found this amazing book that gave detailed descriptions of how the articles of clothing were shaped and then worn. Because the measurements for these garments would have required a lot of fabric and extra help in displaying them to the class, it was decided that it would be easier for me to show the proper way to wear a Palla (or a Pallium for the men) if I made Barbie sized costumes.
Mom did a great job putting together a Tunic for my Derek Rocker Barbie doll and a Stola for my Dana Rocker Barbie Doll. We wrapped a gold colored ribbon around the torso of the Dana Doll and mom used gold colored cross-stitch floss as the closures on the Stola. Our research told us that the color, purple, was an indicator of royalty or at least the very wealthy so we chose that for the Palla and Pallium. They were made out of felt and wrapped very easily around the dolls. Then mom cut out little shoes, using a tan color felt, and sewed them to the feet of the dolls using the gold-colored floss so they looked like sandals.
I kept those dolls in those costumes for a very long time and tried to incorporate them into the story lines my sister and I would create. I kind of wish I had them today or at the very least a picture of them. I remember them being so detailed and cool. I wish I had these memories of my mother more readily available.
Picture this: Little Town, Havre de Grace, 1993, seventh grade social studies class with Mr. Ewart. We were studying the Ancient Greek and Roman Civilizations and were present projects to the class. Some people made traditional Greek or Italian foods for mass consumption, some made dioramas, others present special reports on aspects of these ancient lives. I decided to focus on the clothing, for some reason. I wasn't exactly fashion conscious in those days, and not much better now, so I'm not sure why I picked this one. Except that possibly it had the chance I would get to dress in a costume.
I remember that Mom was very helpful in putting together my presentation. We went to the library together and she helped me to do some of my first major research as a student. We found this amazing book that gave detailed descriptions of how the articles of clothing were shaped and then worn. Because the measurements for these garments would have required a lot of fabric and extra help in displaying them to the class, it was decided that it would be easier for me to show the proper way to wear a Palla (or a Pallium for the men) if I made Barbie sized costumes.
Mom did a great job putting together a Tunic for my Derek Rocker Barbie doll and a Stola for my Dana Rocker Barbie Doll. We wrapped a gold colored ribbon around the torso of the Dana Doll and mom used gold colored cross-stitch floss as the closures on the Stola. Our research told us that the color, purple, was an indicator of royalty or at least the very wealthy so we chose that for the Palla and Pallium. They were made out of felt and wrapped very easily around the dolls. Then mom cut out little shoes, using a tan color felt, and sewed them to the feet of the dolls using the gold-colored floss so they looked like sandals.
I kept those dolls in those costumes for a very long time and tried to incorporate them into the story lines my sister and I would create. I kind of wish I had them today or at the very least a picture of them. I remember them being so detailed and cool. I wish I had these memories of my mother more readily available.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Earthquake!
I have lived 30 years in Maryland and never has the thought of a possible Earthquake entered my mind. Now this is the second one I've experienced in the space of a year. (Last year's I had just started dating my now ex and it woke me up at 5:00am. I wasn't sure what it was and woke him up, he calmed me down and told me it was probably a dream. I sort of wonder now if I should have taken this as some sort of sign.)
This year's I was sitting at my desk and the lights started flickering. My boss came out of her office and yelled at us to get under our desks - she lived on the West Coast for several years. The nearest thing I can compare it to would be a large truck driving by your house. Or like when you were little and some asshole kid would grab whatever you were standing on and yell "earthquake!" while shaking it. Except, this isn't some asshole kid and you can't step off the ladder, or chair, and find stable ground. It's the whole building and all the ground outside.
FACTS:
5.9 Earthquake
1:51pm est
Center - Virginia
I called my mother to let her know that I was perfectly fine, just a little shaken. And she started talking about the end of times and how we'll know because of earthquakes and rumors of wars, etc. a) there are always rumors of wars. b) I found this handy article that was written after last year's earthquake that confirms east coast quakes are not as infrequent as we would like to believe. Honestly, this could always be the end of the world as we know it. Ten years ago, after the 9/11 attacks, the world as we knew it changed but it wasn't the end of the world.
This is like the Texas Sharp Shooter Fallacy I read about the other day. Where there are completely unrelated events that are being used to support a single idea.
This year's I was sitting at my desk and the lights started flickering. My boss came out of her office and yelled at us to get under our desks - she lived on the West Coast for several years. The nearest thing I can compare it to would be a large truck driving by your house. Or like when you were little and some asshole kid would grab whatever you were standing on and yell "earthquake!" while shaking it. Except, this isn't some asshole kid and you can't step off the ladder, or chair, and find stable ground. It's the whole building and all the ground outside.
FACTS:
5.9 Earthquake
1:51pm est
Center - Virginia
I called my mother to let her know that I was perfectly fine, just a little shaken. And she started talking about the end of times and how we'll know because of earthquakes and rumors of wars, etc. a) there are always rumors of wars. b) I found this handy article that was written after last year's earthquake that confirms east coast quakes are not as infrequent as we would like to believe. Honestly, this could always be the end of the world as we know it. Ten years ago, after the 9/11 attacks, the world as we knew it changed but it wasn't the end of the world.
This is like the Texas Sharp Shooter Fallacy I read about the other day. Where there are completely unrelated events that are being used to support a single idea.
Friday, August 12, 2011
G-D's 85th Birthday
Today is my maternal grandmother's 85th birthday. On one hand I am uber excited about the fact that I have a grandparent that made it to be 85, and probably older at the rate she's going, but on the other I am sad that she is my only remaining grandparent. This will sound harsh, so bear with me, but I wish that my paternal grandmother had made it to 85 instead.
In my defense, I don't have much of a relationship with my maternal grandmother and it isn't for a lack of trying. I had wonderful hopes of developing a familial bond with my Florida relatives when my mother moved back to take care of her own mother. But that was not to be. My mother doesn't even spend, what I would consider, a reasonable amount of time with her sister.
I mean if my sister and I lived in the same town, there would be Rockband Band every week. We could meet for lunches as often as possible and there would be dinners with the dads. I'm just saying, maybe mom and her sister aren't as close as they've always claimed to be. Did she talk to her sister every day at lunch? I think not. Did they write letters with an equivalent frequency as we exchange e-mails? Nope. Did Aunt C try to visit at least once a year and vice versa? My mom lived for 30 years in Maryland and her sister didn't visit once. I see my sister at least once a year, twice if I can afford it, and she comes to visit here at least as often. So clearly, D and I are way better at this sister thing. Not that this is some sort of competition or anything, but we still win.
The point is that my mom's family isn't that close so, when I received the text from my mother reminding me it was GD's 85th birthday, the only reason I sent flowers was to please my mother. I like to make her happy and she likes to see her mom happy. So if sending flowers to a woman I haven't seen in over three years is going to make mom happy, I can do that. If it gives and old woman some small amount of pleasure before she shuffles off this mortal coil, then who is it going to hurt except my budget. Once day she will die and I will be sad for my mother. But I don't know that I will feel that overwhelming grief I remember at my paternal grandmother's funeral.
I think often about the inevitable death of my own parents. I don't like those thoughts when I have them, I would rather believe that they'll live forever and things will never change. But that is incredibly foolish and highly unrealistic. Everyone dies at some point. I wonder if it would be easier if one or the other died first. How would I handle it, how would I move on with my life, etc. I think I would be equally as devastated. Especially if my 85 year old grandmother outlived them.
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| 1-800-Flowers A-Dog-Able Basket. |
I mean if my sister and I lived in the same town, there would be Rockband Band every week. We could meet for lunches as often as possible and there would be dinners with the dads. I'm just saying, maybe mom and her sister aren't as close as they've always claimed to be. Did she talk to her sister every day at lunch? I think not. Did they write letters with an equivalent frequency as we exchange e-mails? Nope. Did Aunt C try to visit at least once a year and vice versa? My mom lived for 30 years in Maryland and her sister didn't visit once. I see my sister at least once a year, twice if I can afford it, and she comes to visit here at least as often. So clearly, D and I are way better at this sister thing. Not that this is some sort of competition or anything, but we still win.
The point is that my mom's family isn't that close so, when I received the text from my mother reminding me it was GD's 85th birthday, the only reason I sent flowers was to please my mother. I like to make her happy and she likes to see her mom happy. So if sending flowers to a woman I haven't seen in over three years is going to make mom happy, I can do that. If it gives and old woman some small amount of pleasure before she shuffles off this mortal coil, then who is it going to hurt except my budget. Once day she will die and I will be sad for my mother. But I don't know that I will feel that overwhelming grief I remember at my paternal grandmother's funeral.
I think often about the inevitable death of my own parents. I don't like those thoughts when I have them, I would rather believe that they'll live forever and things will never change. But that is incredibly foolish and highly unrealistic. Everyone dies at some point. I wonder if it would be easier if one or the other died first. How would I handle it, how would I move on with my life, etc. I think I would be equally as devastated. Especially if my 85 year old grandmother outlived them.
Friday, May 20, 2011
The Day Before...
At the Hallmark dinner the other night, a couple of girls were talking about this impending rapture that is supposed to happen on May 21st. For the most part they were joking, but a couple of them were really concerned. Did I think it was possible, etc. My answer was simply that there is no specific date given in the bible, it is even said that man can't know the day or hour when it will happen, so I wasn't concerned. That the calculations of this man, based on things in the bible, were clearly flawed (from a religious perspective) because Human beings are fundamentally flawed. This seemed to make them feel better and put them at ease, I'm not really sure when I became the voice of wisdom or why they accepted it so readily.
But there is a lot of chatter, from people in my life, about this business and one can't help but think about it. As I've said before, my mother and her sister believe that the end of times are nigh. Granted Aunt C. has taken it to an extreme that involves stocking food and supplies, but my mother has always been my religious knowledge source and it disturbs me that she is thinking something similar to this. Yes, there have been Earthquakes, Famines, and Wars but none any worse than others in our collective history.
Do I think it's possible that at some point in the near future the world, as we know it, will change or come to an "end" giving rise to something new we have not yet begun to imagine, yes. The thing about life is that things are always changing. Could something happen to derail the American government and completely change our current way of life? Anything is possible and we're still a young country. I'm sure the Ancient Romans never thought their way of life would come to an end and yet it did. England enjoyed an expansive existence for a period of time and yet the sun did set. Empires are built and destroyed and yet life remains. It would be arrogant and foolish to think that things will go on forever just as they are. But that doesn't mean it will be a bad change either.
But there is a lot of chatter, from people in my life, about this business and one can't help but think about it. As I've said before, my mother and her sister believe that the end of times are nigh. Granted Aunt C. has taken it to an extreme that involves stocking food and supplies, but my mother has always been my religious knowledge source and it disturbs me that she is thinking something similar to this. Yes, there have been Earthquakes, Famines, and Wars but none any worse than others in our collective history.
Do I think it's possible that at some point in the near future the world, as we know it, will change or come to an "end" giving rise to something new we have not yet begun to imagine, yes. The thing about life is that things are always changing. Could something happen to derail the American government and completely change our current way of life? Anything is possible and we're still a young country. I'm sure the Ancient Romans never thought their way of life would come to an end and yet it did. England enjoyed an expansive existence for a period of time and yet the sun did set. Empires are built and destroyed and yet life remains. It would be arrogant and foolish to think that things will go on forever just as they are. But that doesn't mean it will be a bad change either.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Nightmare - THE most frightening
Last night, I had the most frightening nightmare I've had in a long time. Basically, it's the end of the world. People are dead or dying and the only solution is to take a cyanide pill. Because whatever is going to happen is far worse than death, etc. I was with my family (my dad, my step-dad, my mom, my sister, my aunt, and my cousins) and they were all deciding whether to commit suicide or not. In the dream, I asked my family what would come after and no one knew. I felt that I absolutely could not go through with it, but one by one they all made the decision to die. When my sister decided to take the pill it was more than I could stand. I pulled her into a hug and told her that I wouldn't live in a world where she wasn't. That I couldn't get on without her and then I swallowed the pill myself. I watched everyone slowly close their eyes and go to sleep. I tried to wake them and couldn't. I felt my own eyes growing heavy and only darkness was there when I let them close, so I fought it. The decision had already been made and there was nothing I could do to change it, but I was so afraid of what would happen after. Danielle was the last to close her eyes and I was left alone, waiting for whatever would happen. When I finally closed my eyes there was only darkness; I could feel myself slipping away to nothing and I was terrified. I woke up to reality as soon as my dream self let go of its life.
My heart was beating so fast, I thought I might have a heart attack right there. It was 2:30 in the morning and that fear had settled in my chest. I was terrified to go back to sleep which, of course, seems foolish now, but I couldn't bear to close my eyes to the darkness even if it was only temporary sleep. It's eight hours later, I can still recall every detail of that dream and I can't stop thinking about it. The thought that there could be nothing after this life frightens me more than anything (even the traditional thought of eternal damnation, or Hell) and yet it is a distinct possibility. My boyfriend tried to be very helpful this morning when I recounted the dream to him. He told me about an experiment wherein someone who was very close to death entered a sealed chamber. The person's weight was constantly measured before death, the moment of death, and immediately after death. Apparently, there was a definite loss in weight at the moment of death. I suggested that this was due to gases escaping the body, etc and my boyfriend said that it wouldn't matter because the entire chamber was sealed and weighed so that wouldn't change it. I'm not sure how true this is, but it was mildly comforting.
I'm not sure where this came from exactly. I think it was definitely influenced by my mother's talk of End Times this past week and also a little bit of seeing Les Misérables the other night. Still, it's pretty depressing and I can't seem to shake the feeling.
According to Dreammoods.com :
My heart was beating so fast, I thought I might have a heart attack right there. It was 2:30 in the morning and that fear had settled in my chest. I was terrified to go back to sleep which, of course, seems foolish now, but I couldn't bear to close my eyes to the darkness even if it was only temporary sleep. It's eight hours later, I can still recall every detail of that dream and I can't stop thinking about it. The thought that there could be nothing after this life frightens me more than anything (even the traditional thought of eternal damnation, or Hell) and yet it is a distinct possibility. My boyfriend tried to be very helpful this morning when I recounted the dream to him. He told me about an experiment wherein someone who was very close to death entered a sealed chamber. The person's weight was constantly measured before death, the moment of death, and immediately after death. Apparently, there was a definite loss in weight at the moment of death. I suggested that this was due to gases escaping the body, etc and my boyfriend said that it wouldn't matter because the entire chamber was sealed and weighed so that wouldn't change it. I'm not sure how true this is, but it was mildly comforting.
I'm not sure where this came from exactly. I think it was definitely influenced by my mother's talk of End Times this past week and also a little bit of seeing Les Misérables the other night. Still, it's pretty depressing and I can't seem to shake the feeling.
According to Dreammoods.com :
Okay, I don't think I have deep emotional stress. My life is actually much better than it's been in a long time. Though yesterday was a little stressful because of end of month deadlines at work, but no more than usual.
I can see how this can apply to me right now. I have been working very hard this year and creating a better version of me.Suicide
To dream that you commit suicide, represents your desperate desire to escape from your waking life. You may be harboring feelings of guilt that you cannot get over and thus turning the aggression on yourself. You need to start approaching problems from a different angle. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you are saying good-bye to one aspect of yourself and hello to a whole new you. It is symbolic of a personal transformation or a new stage in your life.�
This makes sense, too. I am 30 years old now. Clearly my parents don't play the same role in my life and I feel like I am undergoing significant change in my waking life. I've written about it often enough over the last two months.Death
To dream about the death of a loved one, suggests that you are lacking a certain aspect or quality that the loved one embodies. Ask yourself what makes this person special or what you like about them. It is that very quality that you are lacking in your own relationship or circumstances. Alternatively, the dream indicates that whatever that person represents has no part in your own life anymore. In particular, to dream about the death of your parents, indicates that you are undergoing a significant change in your waking life. Your relationship with your parents has evolved into a new realm.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Melancholy
My mother leaves tomorrow. I agreed to pick up a shift at my second job tonight because someone had a family member die and you can't really say no in that situation. But I am incredibly sorry that I agreed to do it at all. I've tried all morning to find someone to work the hours and no one is available. So I kind of feel like I am wasting time going to work. Not like I won't see my mother again, but I just see her so rarely that it feels that way. I'll see her for a few hours when I get home tonight and then have to say goodbye in the morning before I leave for my day job.
I know I wanted my mom to be here for my 30th birthday, but I should have considered the complications of having her here at the end of the month. I can't take time off from my day job, and really that's all I want to do, because my deadline for entering all the invoices is tomorrow. I don't really know when I'll get to see her again, either. I don't know if we're doing Thanksgiving at Danielle's or her place, or even if I'll be able to go. Her car isn't sound enough to drive up here like she drives to see my sister and a plane ticket is really an expense for her. It's like I miss her already and she's still here.
I don't want to go to my second job tonight but there isn't a whole lot I can do about it. It's really just a big reminder of why I want to leave that place so badly. Not because it's terrible, it's really not, it just cuts into my valuable time with people I care about. I need to be finished with this job by the end of summer, Thanksgiving at the latest. I can't stand trying to negotiate extended time off to visit my family again. But then I would also like to save as much money as possible. To take the trips I want to take and get more than two stamps in my passport over the next ten years. Maybe yearly reviews will make this easier.
I know I wanted my mom to be here for my 30th birthday, but I should have considered the complications of having her here at the end of the month. I can't take time off from my day job, and really that's all I want to do, because my deadline for entering all the invoices is tomorrow. I don't really know when I'll get to see her again, either. I don't know if we're doing Thanksgiving at Danielle's or her place, or even if I'll be able to go. Her car isn't sound enough to drive up here like she drives to see my sister and a plane ticket is really an expense for her. It's like I miss her already and she's still here.
I don't want to go to my second job tonight but there isn't a whole lot I can do about it. It's really just a big reminder of why I want to leave that place so badly. Not because it's terrible, it's really not, it just cuts into my valuable time with people I care about. I need to be finished with this job by the end of summer, Thanksgiving at the latest. I can't stand trying to negotiate extended time off to visit my family again. But then I would also like to save as much money as possible. To take the trips I want to take and get more than two stamps in my passport over the next ten years. Maybe yearly reviews will make this easier.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Post Birthday
My family Birthday Party did not go as well as my celebration with my friends. First of all, I was a little hungover from the friend celebration. Second of all, it's incredibly stressful to plan and throw one's own birthday party.
I wanted to have everyone over to my house for an old school party but I forgot that it meant I would get really hyper about the state of my place. I don't spend a lot of time there right now and things fall into a state of passing clean that is not acceptable for parties. All I wanted to do was relax and enjoy my special day, but cooking food and decorating don't make that easy.
Next year, I am going on vacation. Of course, I said that about this year and it didn't work quite as I had planned.
I wanted to have everyone over to my house for an old school party but I forgot that it meant I would get really hyper about the state of my place. I don't spend a lot of time there right now and things fall into a state of passing clean that is not acceptable for parties. All I wanted to do was relax and enjoy my special day, but cooking food and decorating don't make that easy.
Next year, I am going on vacation. Of course, I said that about this year and it didn't work quite as I had planned.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Waiting for Mom
Today is really a listless day. I can't wait for my mother to arrive at 6:00pm and I can't seem to focus at work.
So my appreciation today goes out to my Mom. We don't always agree on things and there are times when she drives me crazy, but she is one of the sweetest and most supportive women I know. When I took time off in college my father was sure that I was quitting and there was never a doubt in my mother's mind that I would go back and finish. She would give someone the shirt off of her back if they needed it and stops to offer rides to pedestrians. She is a fantastic woman and if I can be half as generous and as kind, I will consider myself successful.
So my appreciation today goes out to my Mom. We don't always agree on things and there are times when she drives me crazy, but she is one of the sweetest and most supportive women I know. When I took time off in college my father was sure that I was quitting and there was never a doubt in my mother's mind that I would go back and finish. She would give someone the shirt off of her back if they needed it and stops to offer rides to pedestrians. She is a fantastic woman and if I can be half as generous and as kind, I will consider myself successful.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
11 Days to go....
Officially eleven days until my 30th Birthday. I am very excited for myself and I can't wait to see my mother in exactly a week. It's been over a year since I saw her last and that is far too long. But with all the positive things happening in my life, I can't help but feel a little guilty talking to some of my friends. My sister and my best guy friend are going through some tough relationship times right now and I feel bad singing praises to them. Even though I know they are happy for me and would love to hear about something good that's happening, I find myself not sharing as much as I normally would.
The worst, for me, is my best guy friend. He is going through a break-up that doesn't make a lot of sense to him. All he knows is that he was blissfully happy with his two and three quarter year relationship and then it was like rug being pulled out from under him. The only reason given for the break-up was that the other person felt they wouldn't work out, even though this person was also in love and seemingly happy with the relationship. They are trying to maintain friendly contact and I think that may be the hardest part. Because the other person sounds happier than my friend wishes he/she were and my friend's transition back into his old life hasn't been exactly smooth. He's been there for me through so much and I simply don't know what to say to comfort him. I agree with him, based on the information I have been given, that the whole thing doesn't make sense but I don't want to give any kind of false hope or villain-ize the ex in any way. I have been in a similar emotional place, though not after as long as relationship as his, and I can understand that feeling of hopelessness. But I can't remember any of the things he said to me, back then, that made me feel better so I don't know what course to take with him.
My sister is a little bit easier. She and I talk everyday and I have a pretty good idea of where she is mentally and emotionally without a guidebook. I also know her significant other better than I ever knew my friend's. I have seen her relationship and know the good, the bad, and the ugly about it. So I can be as honest with her as I would be with myself in times like these. It worries me that they are having troubles because I have seen how great they can be together. But I still don't want to go overboard detailing what wonderful thing my boyfriend did this day or that day. As much as one likes to hear about the happiness of one's friends, it can sometimes make one feel worse about one's own situation. And I don't think either my sister or my friend need that right now.
But there are details that I really want to share and they aren't the kind of details you can just tell anybody.
The worst, for me, is my best guy friend. He is going through a break-up that doesn't make a lot of sense to him. All he knows is that he was blissfully happy with his two and three quarter year relationship and then it was like rug being pulled out from under him. The only reason given for the break-up was that the other person felt they wouldn't work out, even though this person was also in love and seemingly happy with the relationship. They are trying to maintain friendly contact and I think that may be the hardest part. Because the other person sounds happier than my friend wishes he/she were and my friend's transition back into his old life hasn't been exactly smooth. He's been there for me through so much and I simply don't know what to say to comfort him. I agree with him, based on the information I have been given, that the whole thing doesn't make sense but I don't want to give any kind of false hope or villain-ize the ex in any way. I have been in a similar emotional place, though not after as long as relationship as his, and I can understand that feeling of hopelessness. But I can't remember any of the things he said to me, back then, that made me feel better so I don't know what course to take with him.
My sister is a little bit easier. She and I talk everyday and I have a pretty good idea of where she is mentally and emotionally without a guidebook. I also know her significant other better than I ever knew my friend's. I have seen her relationship and know the good, the bad, and the ugly about it. So I can be as honest with her as I would be with myself in times like these. It worries me that they are having troubles because I have seen how great they can be together. But I still don't want to go overboard detailing what wonderful thing my boyfriend did this day or that day. As much as one likes to hear about the happiness of one's friends, it can sometimes make one feel worse about one's own situation. And I don't think either my sister or my friend need that right now.
But there are details that I really want to share and they aren't the kind of details you can just tell anybody.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Interpret This....
I had a dream last night that was a little bizarre and I haven't quite figured out it's meaning. In the dream Mom, Danielle, and I stopped by my Mommom's old house. It was still her house though it had been closed up for years; nothing had been touched since the day she died. There were still dishes in the sink and expired groceries in the refrigerator like she was expected home at any minute. A fine layer of dust was over everything and the electricity/heating had been turned off years ago. We were stopping by so I could get something out of the basement, I'm not sure what exactly, and as soon as I opened the front door I saw a spark in the kitchen. It followed a line along the floor and started a small fire in the corner by the stove. I immediately ran over to it and was able to extinguish the flame. Mom and Danielle came rushing in when they heard me yelling and everything seemed to be okay. Then the black line on the floor, that started the original fire, continued up the wall and started another one at the top of the stove. I yelled at them to call the fire department and to get as many pictures out of the house as they could.
I called Dad and Aunt Shelley to come get the boxes of pictures and mementos out of the house before it burned down. All the while I kept putting out these small fires, hoping to give everyone time to get the important stuff out, but the electrical wiring was so far gone that it kept starting little flames in the kitchen. We were able to get the irreplaceable stuff out of the upper level and then had to get everything out of the basement. Most things had been moved down to the basement after her death and we just had to go through it all. The fire department still hadn't come and I had given up containing the upstairs even though it stayed in the kitchen the whole time. So we worked in the basement trying to move things as quickly as possible. I woke up before we finished.
It's been a while since I've dreamed about my grandmother's house and even longer since I tried to remember how it felt to be there. You know, remember the layout of the house, the placement of the furniture, the smells of the kitchen and cigarette smoke. The last time I really tried to picture it, in my waking hours, was for a creative non-fiction writing exercise in college and that was over six years ago. (Six years? Can it really be that long ago?) I think about my grandparents quite often but neither of them were in the dream. It was just their house and their things.
According to Dreammoods.com
I called Dad and Aunt Shelley to come get the boxes of pictures and mementos out of the house before it burned down. All the while I kept putting out these small fires, hoping to give everyone time to get the important stuff out, but the electrical wiring was so far gone that it kept starting little flames in the kitchen. We were able to get the irreplaceable stuff out of the upper level and then had to get everything out of the basement. Most things had been moved down to the basement after her death and we just had to go through it all. The fire department still hadn't come and I had given up containing the upstairs even though it stayed in the kitchen the whole time. So we worked in the basement trying to move things as quickly as possible. I woke up before we finished.
It's been a while since I've dreamed about my grandmother's house and even longer since I tried to remember how it felt to be there. You know, remember the layout of the house, the placement of the furniture, the smells of the kitchen and cigarette smoke. The last time I really tried to picture it, in my waking hours, was for a creative non-fiction writing exercise in college and that was over six years ago. (Six years? Can it really be that long ago?) I think about my grandparents quite often but neither of them were in the dream. It was just their house and their things.
According to Dreammoods.com
I can definitely see how the one part applies to me. I am making a lot of positive changes in my life and moving forward from older ways of thinking. Negative thoughts and feelings that held me back are no longer an issue and I am making a concentrated effort to move into the next phase of my life a healthier, happier version of me. However this seems counter to the definition the website lists for Photos or Pictures.FIRE: Depending on the context of your dream, to see fire in your dream can symbolize destruction, passion, desire, illumination, purification, transformation, enlightenment, or anger. It may suggest that something old is passing and something new is entering into your life. Your thoughts and views are changing. In particular, if the fire is under control or contained in one area, then it is a metaphor of your own internal fire and inner transformation. The dream may be a metaphor for someone who is "fiery". It represents your drive, motivation, and creative energy. Alternatively, the dream may be warning you of your dangerous or risky activities. You are literally "playing with fire".
The second part about the photo taking you back to a particular moment in time fits, but am I clinging to the past? So there are things changing and "inner transformation" but I am unwilling to completely let go of the past perhaps.To see a photograph in your dream, indicates that there is a relationship that needs your attention. You are not looking deep enough into the problem. Alternatively, the dream means that you are clinging on to the past or to some false hope. Consider who or what is on the photo. The image may be trying to take you back to a particular moment in time.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
59 Years Ago Today
Today is my mother's birthday. It was 59 years ago that her mother and father smiled down at their newborn. I called her a little bit ago and she dropped major hints about gifts that she wants. (The rest of the Agatha Christie series on BBC) However, I was able to inform her that Danielle and I had already gone ahead and purchased the plane ticket as her gift. She was excited, though a little disappointed at the loss of Agatha Christie, and we talked about what she'll do when she's up here next month.
I haven't seen my mother in over a year and I feel that that is far too long. I hate that she is in Florida, though I admit it is the best thing for everyone concerned. She gets to spend time with her mother and sister as well as become more involved in church and community. She'd become very isolated up here and I think was very lonely most of the time. I hope that being in Florida has helped with that. She said she's always busy taking grandma to this or that appointment, helping with the church, volunteering at the retirement home, etc. So I at least feel that she is living a healthier life than she was here.
Though I have other concerns about her. The house they live in is in serious disrepair and I don't think it will get better. Once my grandmother passes, I don't see my mother living there by herself. It would be the best financial thing for her to not have to pay rent, but it's a terrible place to live. Of course, in Florida, the rent is not as bad as it is here so she might be able to work something out. Also, with the longevity my grandmother seems to possess my mother could be well into her later 60's before that happens. Then she would qualify for all kinds of senior discounts and credits, not to mention she could live in the church retirement community. For now, I am not so concerned about my mother specifically. She takes care of her own mother and therefore has a sense of purpose. My maternal aunt also lives in Florida and she sees her quite often so there is an outside perspective of things.
One of the guys at work just had to put his mother into a nursing home. She's in her 70's, but up until about 6 months ago was able to live perfectly well on her own. It wasn't until her neighbors started calling that he even knew something was wrong. (He lives here and she lives in Texas) Apparently she had suffered several mini-strokes and it's almost like Alzheimer's. She has good days and bad, but mostly she forgets to eat and pay her bills. He said it was one of the hardest decisions he's ever had to make and all I could think about was my own mother. It will get to that one day and I don't know if I will be prepared for it.
I haven't seen my mother in over a year and I feel that that is far too long. I hate that she is in Florida, though I admit it is the best thing for everyone concerned. She gets to spend time with her mother and sister as well as become more involved in church and community. She'd become very isolated up here and I think was very lonely most of the time. I hope that being in Florida has helped with that. She said she's always busy taking grandma to this or that appointment, helping with the church, volunteering at the retirement home, etc. So I at least feel that she is living a healthier life than she was here.
Though I have other concerns about her. The house they live in is in serious disrepair and I don't think it will get better. Once my grandmother passes, I don't see my mother living there by herself. It would be the best financial thing for her to not have to pay rent, but it's a terrible place to live. Of course, in Florida, the rent is not as bad as it is here so she might be able to work something out. Also, with the longevity my grandmother seems to possess my mother could be well into her later 60's before that happens. Then she would qualify for all kinds of senior discounts and credits, not to mention she could live in the church retirement community. For now, I am not so concerned about my mother specifically. She takes care of her own mother and therefore has a sense of purpose. My maternal aunt also lives in Florida and she sees her quite often so there is an outside perspective of things.
One of the guys at work just had to put his mother into a nursing home. She's in her 70's, but up until about 6 months ago was able to live perfectly well on her own. It wasn't until her neighbors started calling that he even knew something was wrong. (He lives here and she lives in Texas) Apparently she had suffered several mini-strokes and it's almost like Alzheimer's. She has good days and bad, but mostly she forgets to eat and pay her bills. He said it was one of the hardest decisions he's ever had to make and all I could think about was my own mother. It will get to that one day and I don't know if I will be prepared for it.
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