Me and My Imaginary Friends

The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you're uncool.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Why I'm blogging all this

I know my blog has been very sad these last few weeks. I don't mean to upset anyone or be a drag. But if I didn't write all this down, I think I would go insane. I've never been terribly good at just saying how I honestly feel - a consequence of being raised by someone who didn't care about how I felt. I never kept a journal as a kid because I was too vulnerable - afraid that it would be found, read and my real feelings exposed.

I've blogged for about 5 years now, but I have generally kept the tone light and airy - entertaining. I still carry the FUD (fear, uncertainty and doubt) that if I reveal my true inner self, no one will like me.

But I don't have those same reservations about this situation. Obviously, I love my mother and losing her is difficult - the most difficult thing I've ever been through. These thoughts go round and round in my head. If I didn't write them down, I don't know how I would get through it. I am able to maintain a very reasonable semblance of calm because I have this outlet. This is the one time that I know I can't keep anything bottled up. But I really don't have a way to release except through my blog.

I also want to capture this as it happens - to record it for later. Maybe it will be too depressing. But maybe it will bring me comfort to come back to these posts in six months or a year and know that even the pain of losing her is worth honoring. One of the most difficult things I face is the knowledge that anyone I meet from here on out won't comprehend how much my mother means to me. They won't get the chance to love her as she should be loved. Anyone who matters to me in the future will be able to relive my mother's final moments through my blog. An unbefitting tribute, but it's the best I can do.

As you read my morose ramblings, please do not feel that you have to comment. I make these postings more for myself than for you. I know that it's awkward to reply to the things that I write. I know that you care for me and would change my situation if you could (as I would do/feel if the case were reversed). Read my blog. Pray for my family. Draw close to Jehovah.

Daily changes

I just posted that I didn't see Mama on Sunday.  I went by to see her yesterday evening after work and I was shocked by how bad she looked.  She had had a "big day."  One of the hospice nurses spent quite a lot of time with her poking and prodding, trying to assess her current situation.  As a result, we have cut most of her medications in half and taken her off of some completely.  She is having a really hard time keeping her pills down so there's just no need to put her through that - they really aren't going to prolong her life at this point. 

Again, it took three of us to get her to bed.  This time, she couldn't even walk.  We had to get the rolling stool from the kitchen to push her into her bedroom.  The nurse put in an order for a hospital bed and a wheelchair.  They should be delivered today.  Mama's going to be very upset (if she's thinking straight) when they show up.  Even last night when we put her in bed, she said, "I don't know what's wrong, this is the worst it's ever been."  As I've stated before, she just doesn't get it.  That hospital bed will be a blazing sign that she is not going to get better. 

We've finally started talking about how much longer we think it will be.  Until yesterday, I thought we had at least 3 weeks left.  Now I'm not sure that she will make it past the weekend.  There are signs that her kidneys are shutting down.  As we just learned on Sunday, the kidneys keep your body from being poisoned.  So when they no longer work, you die from the toxins in your own blood.  If she lasts longer than the weekend, it may only be due to the hospital bed.  I don't think she's going to get out of it too often.  That may conserve her energy and allow her to live a few days longer than she otherwise would have.

For the first time, Daddy looked really bad last night.  As he guided Mama to bed, he told her, "You've been my sweetheart for 46 years now.  I love you."  It is very difficult for me to hear such simple, loving statements from a man who has been so harsh during my lifetime.  I guess there had to be good times between them even though most of my memories are full of arguments and domination.

I always wait until Mama is asleep before I leave.  In the past, that has often been around 9:00 or 9:30.  Last night, I got her to sleep around 8:00.  That's just too early for Daddy to go to bed.  He was still in the den eating his dinner.  As I told him goodnight, he looked sad and lonely sitting in the big den by himself.  I know he wanted me to stay.  I just couldn't.  It's difficult enough for me to get through my mother's death without also addressing the years of emotional neglect and damage I suffered in my relationship with my father.  I don't have it in me to reach out to him during the most painful period of both of our lives.

[advertisements to follow]



PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best web mail—award-winning Windows Live Hotmail. Check it out!

Up to the Date

I have a cousin who lost both of his parents at a fairly young age.  His mother died when he was a child, maybe 7 or 8.  His father died just after he'd gotten out of high school.  (I blogged about this particular uncle a few weeks ago as the one who really loved his nieces and treated each of us as unique and special.)  This cousin is basically the same age as Super Mom so they grew up as friends.  Before they got married, his girlfriend lived moved to our city and lived with my family. 

With all those ties, I wasn't surprised to find out that they were coming to see Mama and Daddy.  They were unsure about whether or not they should stay with my parents, but of course Daddy insisted.  It really was no trouble and in fact, turned out to be a help.  My cousin's wife cooked for Daddy and my cousin helped us a little bit with Mama (I'll get to that).  It was really good to see them.  I can't emphasize enough how much I genuinely like these cousins.  They are the nicest people.  Their kids are so sweet.  They have a boy and a girl.  The boy is 14, the girl is ... going into 11th grade (I'm not sure about her age).

We all sat in Mama and Daddy's living room to watch tv in the evenings.  There aren't a whole lot of places for us to sit besides the couch and floor.  Sometimes the kids sat on the floor, but several times, the girl sat in her dad's lap.  Think about that.  At 16 (?), she is close enough to her father to be completely comfortable sitting in his lap.  Another time, I looked over to see the 14 year old boy sitting next to his father on the couch.  My cousin had has arm around his son's shoulder and his son had reached up to hold his father's hand.  That is what really amazed me.  I was sitting on the couch with them so I couldn't get up to get my camera.  I really wish that I'd been able to unobtrusively capture that sweet and natural moment.  I'm just blown away by what a good father my cousin is. 

We had several visitors on Saturday.  When I got to my parents' house, the grandfather of Infectious Laughter's husband was there.  I have never spent time with this man, though he has gone out of his way to be kind to Mama over the years.  It was interesting to see how much Laughter's husband looks like him.  It was also odd to contemplate the complexity of how we know this man - he's my father's youngest sister's youngest daughter's grandfather-in-law.  (Is it really only my family that gets this convoluted?)

Actually, no, it's not.  Earlier in the day, we'd stopped to see an elderly sister who lives in an assisted living facility.  Her son was there so we had a nice chat with him and his mother.  I thought her son was fascinating (turns out he's from Ohio - so, no surprise there).  We got to talking about trips he and his wife have taken (she's wicked high on the Delta seniority ladder).  They love Asia.  Guess who was just in Asia and had lots to say - oh yeah, me.  I rarely ever name-drop around here.  But I just had this feeling... so I asked him if he knew a sister that had been on the trip to Asia with me (the really cool sister who has pioneered for 50 years).  He got this big smile on his face and said that her first husband was his cousin.  He then told me a story about running into her in an airport in some random Asian city.  HA!  I had heard that story from her while we were in Asia.  Anyway, it's not just me and my family that have these weird connections.

Later in the day, my father's best friend from college came to visit.  They only stayed a couple of hours, but it was really good to see them.  I've known this family for as long as I've known just about anyone on this earth.  When I was a young child, we didn't live close to Daddy's family.  They came to see us occasionally and we would get up to see them as often as we could.  But we absolutely, without exception, went on vacation at least once a year with my father's best friend's family.  I wish we had kept in touch with them more often after we left Florida.  As it is, I don't think I've met either of their kids' spouses or children.  That's just sad because I really do think of these people as family.  It was great to catch up with them.  And just to hear their voices.  It's amazing how much emotion I attach to that man's voice.  I was in the kitchen emptying the dishwasher when they arrived.  I heard my "uncle's" voice before I saw him.  I literally got chills down my back.  In an instant, I was transported back to my happiest memories from childhood - those vacations in the Keys.

Saturday night was difficult for us.  It took three of us to get Mama into bed.  She's just not strong enough to walk by the end of the day.  My cousin was a big help.

I had things to do around my house on Sunday, so I didn't go over to see Mama.  I ended up getting a bad headache and didn't get much done around my house either.  Wasted day.

One of my cousins spent the morning with Daddy on Sunday.  My other cousins went home.  It was a slow day.

[advertisements to follow]



Local listings, incredible imagery, and driving directions - all in one place! Find it!

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Get bent, Tax Man!

OK, so that's probably the best line from that movie, but I may have reason to utter a similar phrase.

I got a letter in the mail two days ago from the IRS.  [cue the horror movie music]  It ain't tax season, so that's not the kind of mail you want to receive. 

The letter stated that the income I'd reported on my 2005 (not 2006) return did not match what they'd been sent on a particular form by some entity.  Huh.  Who was reporting tax info about me?  I vaguely recognized the other entity.  I thought it was the company that managed my former company's 401K program.  Well, surely there was a mistake.  I don't even open the envelopes sent to me about year end tax information.  I just collect them all and dump them on my tax preparer.  And she never makes a mistake. 

Yesterday I called my tax lady and left a message that I needed her help figuring this thing out.  Then I dug up a phone number for the reporting entity and called them.  They wanted a client number for my former employer.  I didn't have that on me so I had to call the lady who took care of such things at my old job.  Meanwhile, the guy I spoke to at the reporting entity was as helpful as he could be with virtually no information. 

The lady from my old job called back today.  She'd never heard of the reporting entity.  [cue the really scary horror movie music] 

I started racking (or is it wracking?) my brain to remember what was going on with this thing.  I finally remembered what it was.  Around 1999 or 2000,  I got a personal account with the same people who managed our 401K program.  Then 9/11 happened.  My investment account, which had already been performing poorly, tanked.  I lost around 3 or 4K.  Finally in 2005, I cut my losses (huh, I seem to do that quite a bit) and cashed out.  I added whatever was left in the account to my savings to use as down payment on my townhouse.  It all became crystal clear.  Now I specifically remember moving into my new house in October 2005.  I was pretty scattered.  My tax information went to the old address and took a while to get to me.  I remember finding an unopened 2005 tax envelope from this same reporting entity *after* I'd sent off my taxes.  At the time I thought, "Oops!  Oh well.  I lost money.  So I could have gotten a bigger return, but it's not that important."

Well, it looks like the IRS thinks it is important.  I have just contacted the reporting entity to get them to help me establish the "cost basis of the sale."  I have to prove that instead of making pure profit (as the IRS seems to think), I actually lost money.  If this all works out, I may be getting back some money from the IRS instead of having to pay additional taxes.  Would they do that?  I hope so.

[and now a word from our sponsors...]



See what you're getting into…before you go there. Check it out!

Minor Shout Out

Flickr is more than just sharing photos with your friends.  It is sharing photos with the world.  People who sign up for accounts (as Affie, P June and Poly have done) can leave comments on photos that they like.  If they really like a photo, they can click the little star button above the image to designate it as a "Favorite."  When a photo has a significant number of Favs and Comments, Flickr will designate it as "Interesting."  Interesting photos show up in a special section called "Explore."  If you want to see good or funny photos, click on the Explore link. 

I've only had one image show up in Explore - the shot I call "Food Chain" of the dolphin eating a fish - you know the one.  Since I've been correcting/improving all my Asian photos, I have been doing everything I can think of to get people to look at them.  If they like them, I hope they will Fav them.  Hopefully I will get into Explore again.

Once you're in Explore, you will get a lot of views, comments and favs.  But in order to get to Explore, you have to already have plenty of views, comments and favs.  So there are two things to do: add your images to groups (though not too many because Flickr tends to ignore images that are in "too many" groups) and add lots of people as your "Contacts."  Another way that you can notice new photos is to look at the ones being uploaded by your "Contacts."  There's hardly any contact between people who are designated as Contacts.  It's just a way to mark a person as someone who takes photos that you like.  Then you will have a "stream" to be able to see what they upload. 

I've been doing the Group thing but now I'm going to do the Contact thing.  I have traditionally had only a few Contacts.  I am going to start marking lots of people as Contacts.  I am also going to be less selective about other people's photos that I fav.  I used to only fav images that I thought were truly unique - something that made me lean back in my chair and say, "Whoa."  But now, I'm going to fav stuff that simply makes me say, "Huh - nice."  (Although some of the newest photos that I've faved are ones that made me say "Whoa.")

This is a really long discussion to say that one of the new groups that I've started to submit to keeps a separate blog here on Blogger.com.  The group moderators highlight what they consider to be the best images from that group by posting them to this blog.  That same dolphin photo was added to the blog they call "Flickr Soup for the Soul."  Check it out.

[and now a word from our sponsors...]



PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best web mail—award-winning Windows Live Hotmail. Check it out!

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Adding Insult to Injury

The whole reason I began following Arsenal Football Club was because of Thierry Henry. I've already bemoaned the fact that he left the club to join FC Barcelona next season. But the latest news is just too much, really! My eye-candy is gone. Freddie Ljungberg, the pretty pretty bald Swede with the ice blue eyes and chiseled jaw who also just happens to be a Calvin Klein model, signed with West Ham for next season. There is one cutie left on the team, but he's, like, Poly's age, younger even....eww.

Who cares about fitness? Doesn't Wenger (the coach) know that you don't let hotness like this get away? Have a look-see for yourself:

Labels: , , ,

Wanna move to Austria with me?

Read this to find out why I'm asking you to waltz with me.

[and now a word from our sponsors...]




PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best web mail—award-winning Windows Live Hotmail. Check it out!

Monday, July 23, 2007

Someday I'll think of a better title than Update

Friday night, I had to go home before heading over to Mama's house for the evening.  While I was there, The Doctor called to tell me that some very dear old friends from the south side were at her house.  They wanted to see me and were waiting until I could get over there.  I headed over to The Doctor's house to see the parents of The African Hag and an older couple who kinda adopted my sisters when they were single and regular/auxiliary pioneering. 

I'd seen African Hag's parents sixth months ago when she was in town.  (Should I say "in town" or "in this hemisphere?")  But it had been a while since I'd seen the other couple.  I'd heard that he wasn't doing too well but he looked fine.  In fact, everyone except African Hag's mother looked basically the same.  AH's mom has had some health issues that restrict her movement so she's a little slower than she used to be but she's basically hanging in there. 

True to form, AH's dad drove and had car issues.  A cable had come loose somewhere in his engine.  In order to start his car he had to pop the hood and hold it while someone else turned the ignition.  It's nice to know that some things never change - the mechanic never has a car in perfect working order. 

We went to dinner at a local Mexican place that I can't stand.  The place did not make any points with me Friday night, either.  They sat us outside (thankfully it was cool enough to handle) right next to the incredibly loud musician.  As I blogged at the time and has been wildly debated about since then, I HATE LOUD musicians.  I never go to a restaurant with the intention of listening to someone else.  I always go in order to enjoy the company of the people I'm with.  If the music is too loud for me to have a conversation with the four people sitting closest to me, it is time to turn it down.  I'm 34 years old.  (Isn't that right?  Sometimes I forget my age.)  I was eating with people in their 60's, 70's and 80's.  If I was having a difficult time hearing (with my famous dog-girl ears), I know they couldn't hear a thing.  We complained but nothing was done to correct the situation.

Still, it was nice to hang out and drink margaritas with old (and I do mean old) friends.

Super Mom got into town late that night.  I hung around and played with the kids for a little while before I finally went home for the evening.

Saturday morning brought bookstudy and more hanging out at Mama's.  My mother's brother and sister came back.  That was the third time they've been to see her in the last two months.  I really enjoyed their visit because I got to look through old photos my uncle brought.  The Doctor took a big stack of selected photos back to her house to scan so that we would have lasting copies.  Eventually, we got out Mama's old family photos and found some that even my uncle had never seen.  I was shocked to find out that we have a photo of my mother's father as a baby.  I still can't wrap my mind around it.  He had to have been born in the Aughts.  We don't have any photos of my grandparents on my father's side like that.  We have one or two of great-grandparents, but no baby portraits.  I found several photos of my grandparents and their parents and siblings (on both sides).  It was very interesting.

Saturday afternoon, T helped me load a few items up over at Stinky Garbage Trailer.  I didn't have as much as I thought I did.  Some of it turned out to be empty boxes that I decided to leave in case the new owners need them.  I still don't have confirmation that the new owners ARE the new owners.  They have to be approved by the park.  I'm trying to be patient but I do want an answer soon.

Sunday brought a low-pressure weather headache.  I always get one on the first day of a drizzly/overcast day.  I don't get headaches when we have good old-fashioned thunderstorms - only on days that are gray and blah when the sky is only going to spit on you a couple of times.  On those kinds of days, I wake up about an hour or two before time to really get up and feel the headache coming on.  If I were to get out of bed and take my various medications right then, I could be rid of it for the rest of the day.  But usually the urge to sleep outweighs the urge to medicate and I deal with a lingering headache until around mid-afternoon.  That was the case yesterday. 

After the meeting, I let my new cleaning lady follow me home.  She got a look-see at the first two floors to know what she's up against.  She said it wasn't as bad as I make it out to sound (which I knew).  But I was shocked to hear her say that it would take her 5 - 6 hours to get those two floors into the condition she wanted them to be in.  On the phone, she'd mentioned that time frame and since I knew my house really wasn't as bad as I make it out to be, I thought it would be around 3 - 4 hours of work for her.  But that doesn't count the "private" floor.  I'm going to take advantage of Super Mom being here this week to use a couple of nights to conquer the clutter and get the "private" floor into a state fit to show to her.

I spent the rest of the day with Mama.  Super Mom and her kids were there.  Eventually, my whole family showed up because a sister we'd been very close to when I was a tween came up to visit.  This sister (the self-proclaimed Frazzled Mom) has five kids.  Her oldest daughter is one year younger than I am.  Her youngest son is the same age as Poly.  He and Poly grew up as BFF and Poly was in his wedding last year.  What's so bizarre is that the dude has a one month old son!  How weird is it to hold the baby of someone you remember holding as a baby?  (OK, technically I remember holding his older brother because he didn't exist when I moved away from that congregation.  But I certainly remember holding Poly as a baby and this kid is the same age as Poly.) 

We put Mama to bed as soon as everyone was out of the house.  That was a really big crowd to have in the room with her.  She likes to see people but gets pretty confused when multiple conversations happen at once.  I left my photo album project with her.  She seemed like she was interested.  I don't know how long she will be able to do it at any one time.  But everyone in the family seemed to understand it and think that it was a good idea.  Super Mom and I tried to watch an old movie with Mama on Sunday.  Old movies have always been Mama's favorite thing in all the world.  She had a difficult time following the plot even though I'm sure she's seen "Roman Holiday" several times.

[advertisements to follow]



Missed the show?  Watch videos of the Live Earth Concert on MSN. See them now!

MAJOR SHOUT OUT!

Frommer.com has a group on Flickr.  You add your photo and tag it to tell where it was taken in your travels.  If Frommer.com (my all-time favorite travel books) writes a post related to your image, they just might use it.  I've been dumping China and Japan photos in the group like crazy recently.  They're using my Great Wall photo right now!!!

How cool is that?  Word to the HnB.

[and now a word from our sponsors...]


See what you're getting into…before you go there. Check it out!

Friday, July 20, 2007

I have love musicians at restaurants. U cant talk to each other.

Every Friday morning, my employer provides breakfast for the office.  Well, they really provide breakfast for the builders who have to come in to do their paperwork.  But they get enough breakfast for everyone.  We had bagels this morning (so much better than donuts).  There was a decent line for the two toasters.  Several of us were standing around in the kitchen chatting about this and that.  When it was finally my turn to put my bagel in one of the toasters, I stepped a little away from the general crowd.  A man who I rarely ever talk to but is good friends with my boss asked me how things were going with Mama.  I wasn't completely surprised that he knew about it since he is friends with my boss.  But I was surprised by the depth of his reaction when I told him how serious the situation was.  He told me that he'd been thinking about me and wanted to say something for a while but wasn't sure how to phrase it.  I have no business contact with this man.  So the only time we could chat is in situations like this or when we pass in the halls.  I was even more surprised when he told me that he was praying for me.  He's a typical Southern man so I'm not surprised that he is religious on a basic level.  But I'm always surprised when people who are not overtly religious mention prayer.  I was just really touched by the geniuneness of his concern, especially since the majority of the people in the office don't have a clue.

I've come up with a project to keep Mama busy/engaged.  I went to Target yesterday and bought two photo albums.  They are the kind that have three slots per page for 4x6 photos.  You can only load the photos in as landscapes, so if you have portrait oriented photos, you have to turn the album to view them.  There are also lines beside each photo slot where you can write a little description about each image.  I hate these kinds of albums for a couple of reasons:  1) I don't like being limited to the 4x6 size.  2) I hate having to turn the album to view portrait images (especially when people put them in so that you have to turn the album different directions).  But I think the slip in "pocket" feature of these albums will make them much easier for Mama to use.  Even under the best of circumstances, I still have trouble getting wrinkles out of the kind where you pull up the whole see-through film and then lay it back down over the page of photos.  I want to occupy Mama, not frustrate her.  So while this is not something I would have ever done for myself, it will turn out to be something that will always remind me of Mama.  I will be able to look through these albums and not just see my own photos.  I will see images that Mama arranged and grouped according to her own logic.  I will hopefully also see notes that she writes about some or all of the photos.

Super Mom is on her way here as I type this.  I expected her to come tomorrow, but she's coming today.  She won't get here until around dark.  She's bringing with her a very cool and dear sister from her congregation.  This sister is in her early to mid 50's and doesn't have any more kids living at home.  She and her husband have been very good friends to my sister and her family.  The kids love her and one or three of them sit with her for a portion of almost every meeting.  She's basically coming up to look after the kids while Super Mom is here.  Last time Super Mom came, she either couldn't do much because of the kids or had to make the kids just sit at Mama's house all day.  I think Super Mom has decided that her kids (at least the older two) won't see Mama on this trip.  She doesn't want this to be the last memory they have of her.  While I understand her decision, I think that may be awkward with Mama who still refuses to acknowledge that she's not getting over this.  The problem is my 5 year old niece.  She feels and thinks about things so deeply.  She asks really bizarre questions about very grown up issues that a 5 year old shouldn't even be close to being aware of.  Super Mom is concerned that if she sees Mama and realizes that she is dying, her daughter will become at the least very upset but at the worst obsessed with death.

I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I've lined up the services of a cleaning lady.  But I will qualify that statement by saying that she's the widow of the brother who just died and she really needs work.  So that makes me not quite so lazy, right?  I thought she was like, d e s p e r a t e for work.  But since she can't get to me until July 30, I guess she's not as bad off as I imagined.  Of course, some of the things keeping her occupied over the next week may not be work related.  She is trying to get her house in order to sell so that may have her tied up next week.  The thing that is embarrassing to admit is how much work I have to do on the third "private" floor to get it ready for her to come in to clean.  I've got stuff everywhere.  She could pile it up for me, but then I'd just have random piles that I wouldn't know what to do with.  I've got to tackle some of the stuff before I can let her up there but before Laughter comes to stay with me.

Now if I could only find someone to cook for me... 

[advertisements to follow]



PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best web mail—award-winning Windows Live Hotmail. Check it out!

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Repaying favors

We've had to get some oxygen equipment for Mama.  The nurse noticed that her lung capacity or breathing (I don't know the medical terms, I'm not The Doctor) is impaired or reduced.  The nurse thinks that may be part of Mama's problem with confusion.  I don't know.  I've seen documentaries about mountain climbing.  I know that you can't think clearly and may even hallucinate when you're oxygen deprived.  But I'm thinking of extremely high altitudes like Everest.  Surely we would have noticed if Mama were getting that little bit of oxygen.  I think her confusion is caused by the anti-depressant and the hallucinations are caused by the morphine.  She may need to have supplemental oxygen, but I don't think that it is going to help her think more clearly.

Anyway, Mama seemed pretty agitated and fidgetty, though basically clear-minded last evening.  I've come up with a new way to distract her.  I think she gets fidgetty because she has nothing to do.  For once in her life, the TV isn't able to keep her attention so she's focusing on the things close to her.  I found a way to keep her hands occupied and hopefully give her some feelings of pleasure.  I sat down in front of her chair and asked her to play with my hair.  She ran her fingers through it several times and then tried to braid it.  Of course she can't really braid it.  My hair is too silky to hold a braid unless you really know what you're doing.  But she was at least calm while she fiddled around with my hair.  She eventually settled down enough that she told me she was about to fall asleep right onto my head.  I got up then, turned the TV to Andy Griffith and let her doze off in her chair.

I remember my sister-in-law telling me that she let her mother help her with small cooking duties before Alzheimer's completely claimed her mind.  Specifically, she let her mother tend to a huge bowl of snap beans.  My sister-in-law gave her more snap beans than she intended to cook that evening just so that her mother would have something to do with her hands.  It seemed to calm her to have legitimate work to do.  I want to find a similar activity that is not related to food preparation.  I think it would be a little insensitive to ask Mama to prepare food when she can't eat.  I don't even like to eat in front of her.  I'm having trouble thinking of a task that won't require thinking ability but can keep her occupied for a decent amount of time.  It has to be a familiar task since she can't learn anything new at this point.  If you think of anything, let me know.

Anyway, on to the theme of this post.  I try to stand right behind Mama when she's at the sink washing her hands or brushing her teeth.  She's standing on her own but she is very wobbly.  Obviously, I don't want her to fall.  But I also want to be aware that it must be annoying to have someone that close to you all the time.  I know that would drive me bonkers.  So instead of just standing there and watching her every move, I scratch her back.  Morphine causes you to itch constantly.  Mama is always reaching behind her to scratch her back or her behind.  So imagine the difference between having someone stand over you and just watch you versus having someone follow you around to scratch your back all the time.  Slight physical difference, but hopefully a big psychological difference. 

While she was brushing her teeth last night (and getting her back scratched), she said, "Man, I am going to have to pay you back one day for all these favors you're doing me.  You remind me."  I answered, "I will remind you and I expect something good."  That could have been a very sad scene.  I know that she was thinking about repaying me after she "gets better."  I was thinking about getting my payback after the resurrection and she is restored to perfect health (and looks like my sister instead of my mother).  I will gladly take any favors she wants to pay up on at that time.  I've heard a lot of people recently say that the resurrection hope isn't a great comfort just after the death of a loved one.  I'm willing to acknowledge that it may not immediately be for me either.  But right now, it is.  As horrible as it is to see my mother waste away, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that she will be safe in Jehovah's memory.  Everyone loves my Mama, especially Jehovah.

[advertisements to follow]





See what you're getting into…before you go there. Check it out!

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

My friend, a guy named Bill

Bill O. Sale!

I just faxed the Bill of Sale for Stinky Garbage Trailer to Redneck Woman to sign.  Again, don't you love the modern age?  I faxed the Bill of Sale.  We didn't shake hands like simple folk used to do.  I guess I haven't told y'all that I'd made the sale.  Yes, as her name implies, she is a redneck.

It's really not a sale.  I'm actually subsidizing her redneck lifestyle.  She's paying me just slightly (and I do mean slightly) over half of what I still owe on the mortgage.  I'm just chalking it up to youthful indiscretion, sowing my wild oats in Redneckville, kicking it up caravan style. 

She tried to talk me down today.  She claimed that she saw another trailer that she liked better for less money in another park.  But then she told me that she wants to live in this park.  I just couldn't take her counter-offer.  So she caved and came back up to our previously agreed upon too-low-to-be-real sales price. 

Here's my fix.  She wants to meet on Saturday to give me the cashier's check.  I've still got a few random things in the house that I need to get rid of.  How am I going to get them out?  Daddy has a truck, but I need someone to help me load up the truck on Saturday before Redneck Woman gets there.  Any takers?

Part of me is holding my breath to see if this thing really goes through.  The park has to approve her tenant application.  They are under new management, but I don't think they will turn her down. 

[and now a word from our sponsors...]



See what you're getting into…before you go there. Check it out!

Semi Daily update

Or is that Bi-Daily?  I have never known the difference between semi and bi.

So, Monday was the worst day Mama has had yet.  The Doctor gave her a bath even though that is the sole job of one of the hospice people.  Bathing Mama wears out both people involved.  When I came in to the house on Monday evening, The Doctor told me that Mama was "talking crazy."  She's experienced a lot of confusion, so I wasn't that concerned.  I expected that I'd have to remind her of the day and who was in the house, etc.  Last week she got very confused about where my aunt and uncle were staying.  They stayed at Mama's house, but sometimes she'd go to bed and ask me to remind them to lock the doors when they left to go home.  One day over the weekend she was surprised when I kissed her goodnight and told her that I was going home.  She said, "Home?"  I answered, "Yes, Mama, I don't live here."  "Oh."

Anyway, I was prepared for similar conversations.  That is not what The Doctor meant when she said that Mama was talking crazy.  What she meant was that she was having hallucinations that bordered on delusions.  In one way it was really sad to see her have these hallucinations, in another way it was just one more challenge to deal with.  I played along with them when they were not inconvenient (I'll explain that in a sec).  But when they were inconvenient, I had to get creative to prove to her that what she was seeing wasn't real.

As is very common on morphine, she saw all kinds of things in the corners and on the floor.  The first hallucination that I had to really deal with was the "puddle" of water on the floor.  She pointed it out to me and I went over to investigate, thinking that that would make her feel better.  She tried to point me in the right direction, but of course I never got to the exact spot.  I guess it must be very strange to see what is there and what isn't there at the same time.  I would have just let it drop but she insisted on getting up to see for herself.  She's not very strong and she's attached to two medical devices.  It's not particularly easy to get her up, especially to have a look-see at a non-existent puddle.  To prove to her that there was no puddle, I laid down on the floor and rolled back and forth across the carpet.  I got up and let her feel my shirt.  It wasn't wet.  She murmured something about me lifting my butt just as I got to the puddle, but she let the subject drop.

Mama has become very fidgetty, she never stops messing with the stuff around her.  Monday evening she was about to drive me nuts wanting the footrest of her recliner up and then back down and then back up again - all in about a 10 minute cycle.  She couldn't find a comfortable position and I really feel so sorry for her.  I know it's got to be frustrating.  But on Monday she was so out of it that she wasn't mindful of the two tubes coming out of her body.  Each time she wanted to change the position of the footrest, I had to do it for her to make sure the tubes were out of the way.  Naturally, that annoyed her.  It had to feel like I was hovering over her, not letting her manage her own chair and sitting position.  But she just couldn't.  She was in such a state of mind that she would look at the tube coming out of her abdomen and ask what it was.  On the way to bed, she thought the bucket that it leads to was Tupperware that Daddy and I were going to leave in the den instead of putting in the dishwasher.  I was afraid that she was going to insist on taking it to the dishwasher herself.

Eventually, I talked her into laying down on the couch (to stop the footrest drama).  There was a small pillow at the other end of the couch.  When we got her onto the couch, she refused to stretch her legs out because she didn't want to put them down on the child laying at the end of the couch.  We were having a difficult time getting her to sit on the couch comfortably.  I told her that there was no child, that it was a pillow.  I picked up the pillow and threw it across the room to illustrate that fact.  She seemed to accept the truth for at least a moment.  But a few minutes later, she was curling her legs back up and talking about one of Super Mom's babies sleeping at the end of the couch.  I let frustration get the better of me and slapped the cushions to show her that there was no baby.  I didn't speak harshly, I just acted rashly when I did that.  Thankfully, I didn't upset her as I so easily could have.  She let out a little giggle and stretched out her legs. 

At one point during the evening, she looked at a fixed point in space somewhere near the fireplace and said, "Oh, Horsenbuggy.  How wonderful."  When I asked her what she was talking about, she answered, while continuing to look in the same spot, "Your picture.  That is really something."  I guess she was "seeing" one of my photographs hanging on the fireplace.  I wish I had asked her what she liked about it and gotten her to describe it to me.  Instead I just thanked her.

After all this "crazy talk," I was amazed that she was coherent when my cousin and his wife came to visit.  They came after work, so it was later than we typically have visitors - a little after 7.  I was worried that she would be so tired by the time they got there that she wouldn't be in her right mind at all.  Instead, she was able to explain to them that she'd been having hallucinations all day.  She explained to them that right then she was seeing an old lady out in the backyard looking at Daddy's boat.  Now don't that beat the Dutch?

As soon as my cousins left, she asked me to move her back to her lounge chair.  While in transit to the chair, she asked me if the "other girl" with them was related to them.  I don't know if she'd seen a third person the whole time or if she only thought about a third person after they were gone.  She saw another random woman the following morning (yesterday) when a sister from our congregation (Fifi) visited.  My sister-in-law told me that when Fifi got up to leave, Mama pointed to the couch and said, "I want that woman to leave, too."  My sister-in-law told her, "Yep, she's with Fifi, they're leaving together."

I wonder if this phantom woman is the same each time.  I also wonder if she is at all based on the fact that when Nickel and Wintertown came to visit, they had to bring along her mother who just sat in the corner of the couch and barely said two words.  At the end of their visit, Mama expressed concern that we'd been rude by leaving Nickel's mother out of the conversation.  I couldn't explain to her that the woman is in early stages of Alzheimer's and probably doesn't follow the conversation real well anyway.

The rest of Tuesday turned out to be a good day.  Other than the one minor hallucination in the morning, Mama was pretty clear headed for the rest of the day.  She was so together mentally that I didn't feel any guilt over leaving her alone with Daddy to go to the meeting.  She was sitting up in her chair flossing her teeth when I left.  I guess it is a good sign when someone is mentally alert enough to care about dental hygene.

[advertisements to follow]



Don't get caught with egg on your face.    Play Chicktionary! 

Monday, July 16, 2007

Ramblings

My life changes daily.  I don't want this to become a depressing blog, so I'm going to try to tell you about the rainbow of emotions/states of mind that I can go through in the course of a weekend.

Sorrow - We had a memorial service on Saturday morning for a wonderfully kind brother from our congregation who finally lost his battle with cancer.  He clung to life for far longer than anyone expected, but finally slipped away early Tuesday morning.  Almost every person in our congregation (and many others) played some part in supporting him and his wife through his illness.  Naturally, the Hall was packed for his service.  His wife (of only 5 years) had been planning his memorial service since the day she found out that he was dying.  She had very specific ideas on how everything should be conducted to bring the greatest honor to the man who was the one great love of her life.  The most difficult part of the 45 minute program was listening to a letter that he wrote to the congregation.  They chose to read it early in the program and I don't think there was a dry-eye in the house for the rest of the talk.

Pleasure - I had the pleasure of seeing five of my all-time favorite people this weekend.  My former bookstudy overseer and his wife (1 congregation ago) came to the memorial service.  While it was a sad occasion that allowed me to see them, I was glad to spend a little bit of time with them.  I was even able to introduce them to my sister and sister-in-law.  The following day, more of my favorite people came over to see Mama: another former bookstudy overseer and his wife (2 congregations ago) and T.  I'd seen the couple just last weekend and technically I'd seen T only a few weekends ago.  But it was still great to see them all together again.

Tenderness - I have a unique way of walking my mother from her chair to the bathroom.  She is still basically strong enough to walk, but she needs a steadying hand.  I'm the only one who has figured out that it is easiest to guide her by taking her hands and walking backwards while she walks forwards.  We end up walking face to face and I get her to look behind me to warn me if I'm about to back into anything.  She doesn't have to look down at her feet because if there's anything to trip over, I would have already "found" it.  She ends up looking at me while we walk.  On one of these bathroom adventures last weekend, Mama spontaneously leaned in and kissed me.  That couldn't have happened if I was awkwardly walking beside her, trying to hold her up under one armpit and fit both of us through a doorway (the method employed by the others in my family).  It was such a small moment and I hope there will be more small moments in the coming weeks.  But even if there are not, I know I will carry the memory of that kiss with me forever. 

Exasperation - Right now I'm a little annoyed with my sister and her bossy ways.  I won't go into details because it's not right or fair to do so here.  I will get over it (very soon).  But sometimes I just hit my limit of being told what to do, especially when I think those commands are based on judgments that someone else is putting into my sister's head.

Exhaustion - I had a difficult time getting to sleep on Saturday night.  At one point, I was almost asleep in my TV watching chair.  I should have just gone up to bed at that time.  I didn't.  I stayed up long enough to see that a movie I was kinda interested in was on.  Once that caught my interest, I was up until around 1:00.  I wasn't really able to catch up on Sunday.  This morning, I kept hitting snooze (as usual).  It didn't even enter my head that it was a work day until the fourth or fifth time I hit snooze.  I hate getting a late start, but that is my modus operandi these days.

[advertisements to follow]






See what you're getting into…before you go there. Check it out!

Thursday, July 12, 2007

This is Soooo me

Cow Appreciation Day?  I'm there!

[and now a word from our sponsors...]


Don't get caught with egg on your face.    Play Chicktionary! 

Flickr

This is a test post from flickr, a fancy photo sharing thing.

Technology, Ain't it a Crazy Thing?

Sometimes I scare myself with how much of a techno-geek I am.  Then I read stories about people who are even more techno-geeky than I.

How fabulous that a single story combines the tech buzz words: segway, iPhone, podcast, and TWiT.  By extension you should also include digital photo and blog since that's how this grandfather communicated his story to the world.

Then add to your list of buzz words the fact that I found this story through: an RSS feed of various blogs I like to read, aggregated by Google Reader, which I have set up as a widget on my iGoogle homepage.

Crazy.

[and now a word from our sponsors...]



Local listings, incredible imagery, and driving directions - all in one place! Find it!

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Visitors

I've been letting people know that now is a good time to see Mama.  She still looks good.  The morphine clouds her mind some, but she's still able to carry on basic conversations.  She has a couple of small pieces of medical equipment attached to her, but they're not obtrusive.  She mostly just sits in her soft brown recliner and tries not to doze while you talk to her. 

Xoomie's grandparents (my aunt and uncle) are in town for a few days.  I'm not sure how long they're staying, but it's nice that they are here and able to help look after Mama.  My uncle caulked the upstairs shower yesterday, something I didn't realized that needed to be done even though I've used that shower a few times recently.  My aunt has been doing laundry, cooking dinner and keeping my parents company.  My father is never quite as happy as when he's entertaining company - showing off his home and his life. 

My father's current obsession is with his bird feeder.  He has it strung on fairly light test fishing line between two wide set trees.  He's gone to great lengths to ensure that squirrels and chipmunks can't climb out to the bird feeder.  But they still find a way.  Daddy loves to watch the actual birds that show up to be fed.  But he gets even more joy out of watching the creative problem solving the squirrels employ to get their share of the free food.  Inevitably, one of them will get to the feeder and knock the food to the ground so all of them can eat it.  Chipmunks reap the benefits and dart in and out of the squirrels to grab tiny morsels.  Just last weekend, we found out that an even smarter rodent was eating the spilled food - a big ol' rat.  Eww.  Daddy's new mission is to catch and kill the rat with as little collateral damage to the cute and fuzzy rodent population as possible.  My uncle has become just as involved in this game of survival as my father, although I think he is more of a [dang! I can't think of the fancy word for bird watcher] than my father.  He actually enjoys identifying all the bird species that show up.

Anyway, Infectious Laughter is coming up to stay with me* and see Mama this weekend.  Her mother is coming with her.  I don't know if she's staying with me, too.  I assume that she will because it just doesn't make sense for her to stay 45 minutes away and drive back and forth two days in a row (even though that's the drive I make to work every day).

I think Nickel and Wintertown are coming up on Sunday to see Mama (and maybe T, too).  I made an unscheduled visit to their house last weekend - so unlike me even though I know I have an open invitation.  I talked over the whole situation with them and they expressed their desire to come up on Sunday.  There's never a lack of visitors on the weekend, so even if they can't make it, Mama will be entertained.

In all of this, I guess I want people to know that I don't expect anything out of them.  I know it is a difficult situation.  I just want to give people who know and love my mother (but really who knows my mother without loving her?) the knowledge that *if* they want to visit, now is a good time.  Well, this weekend may be a little busy, but "now" in the general sense of now.

*Oy!  I gotta clean my house.  What was I thinking, asking her to stay with me?

[advertisements to follow]




Missed the show?  Watch videos of the Live Earth Concert on MSN. See them now!

Catharsis

I just need to ramble.  Read, don't read...it's up to you. 

[and now a word from our sponsors...]



Missed the show?  Watch videos of the Live Earth Concert on MSN. See them now!

Rain, How I Do Love Thee

I don't know how to explain my love of rain.  It's like an inbred knee-jerk reaction, but in a good way.  My mama grew up in a little country town.  The roof of their house was made of tin.  She grew up loving the sound of rain on a tin roof.  So every time we had rain, particularly "bad" thunderstorms, Mama would get sentimental and joyous over the sound of the rain.  Even though I never grew up with a tin roof, I grew up thinking that rain storms were a fabulous thing.  I was never scared of thunder or lightning. 

There just are no words to describe how much I love rain and thunderstorms.  There's one going on right now.  I feel soothed and comforted by the sound of the rain hitting my office window.  I want to go stand at my window and just stare out at the rain coming down in the ugly parking lot. 

Some day I'll be able to capture my feelings about rain in a photograph.

[and now a word from our sponsors...]



PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best web mail—award-winning Windows Live Hotmail. Check it out!

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Communication

How do you tell someone the most important yet distressing news they will ever hear? 

My mother is dying.  And she doesn't get it.  Her doctor has sent her home to be cared for by hospice.  She knows what hospice means.  She knows that she is in more pain than she's been in to date.  She knows that she's been given a morphine pump so that she can just dose herself whenever she hurts. 

Yet yesterday, when she got me alone, she talked about how much "whispering" is done in other rooms.  She said, "I hope y'all aren't not telling me that I'm dying.  I'm gonna call my doctor tomorrow to see what my next step should be.  We've got to get this taken care of."

I just let her talk, or rather, let the morphine talk.  She still has plenty of lucid times, but that morphine gets hold of her brain.  She forgets simple facts.  She can't keep straight when the District Convention was because various family members have gone to so many different ones.  In the same conversation on Sunday, she asked me four times what day it was.  Then she got annoyed with herself because she realized that she'd already asked that question.  I try to ease her frustration by reminding her that morphine is made from opium, so it's going to make her a little cloudy - anyone taking it would experience the same confusion.

Given her opiate-based confusion, I just don't think it makes sense to be blunt to her.  The doctor won't give us a time frame but I think we've probably got around 3 - 4 months.  Her oncologist has told us that there is nothing more he can do.  He assured us that he finally had to follow this same course of action with each of his own parents.  And he doesn't have the comforting hope of the resurrection.

It's not that we haven't told her.  Her doctor did tell her that he couldn't do anything else for her.  I guess he didn't actually say the phrase, "I'm sending you home to die."  But what good would that do.  Instead, we're trying to make her comfortable.  We're trying to keep her distracted with visits from friends.  Surely she will eventually notice that she's wasting away.  Or maybe the morphine will completely have control of her by that time and she won't know a thing.

This has not been a good year.

[advertisements to follow]




Missed the show?  Watch videos of the Live Earth Concert on MSN. See them now!

Monday, July 09, 2007

Quick update

No real time to post, but I wanted to mention that I've posted photos of Mehsha's baptism on Flickr.  Check 'em out.  If you want prints, let me know and I'll get them to you.

[and now a word from our sponsors...]




See what you're getting into…before you go there. Check it out!

Friday, July 06, 2007

Poetry time

I was showing off some photos at work today.  One of the ladies who saw them didn't know that I like to do photography in my spare time.  She got my Flickr address from another coworker who looks at my photos every month or so.  The first lady sent me this message through email:

[HnB's real name], [other coworker's name] forward [sic] me your photo website.  I don't know which was more impressive..the photos or the comments.  You are such an interesting person, I had no idea your talents and interests!  Rock on Sista!

This very sweet comment reminded me of one of my favorite poems by Rachel Field.

My Inside-Self and my Outside-Self
Are different as can be.
My Outside-Self wears gingham smocks,
And very round is she,
With freckles sprinkled on her nose,
And smoothly parted hair,
And clumsy feet that cannot dance
In heavy shoes and square.

But, oh, my little Inside-Self --
In gown of misty rose
She dances lighter than a leaf
On blithe and twinkling toes;
Her hair is blowing gold, and if
You chanced her face to see,
You would not think she could belong
To staid and sober me!

[and now a word from our sponsors...]





PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best web mail—award-winning Windows Live Hotmail. Check it out!

I really miss film

I love love love love love film.  I love Fuji Provia slide film and Ilford Delta B&W film.  The Provia had the right saturation level that I like in my landscape photography.  (For people shots, I used Kodak Portra, it was better for rendering skin tone.)  The Ilford Delta had the right grain and contrast levels.  Both were lovely films.

I can get some interesting stuff out of my digital camera, but it takes so much work.  With film, I didn't spend a lot of time "rescuing" photos.  I simply shot enough so that I'd eventually get one with the exposure I liked and that was the one I printed over and over.  But what I can do to my digital images is virtually limitless.  I can make them B&W, increase the contrast, leave one item in color, punch up the saturation, dodge and burn fairly easily.  It's a tad overwhelming.  But it's also disheartening that my images honestly look like crap until I monkey around with them.

So, all of this is to say that I've been monkeying around with my China trip photos.  If you head over to Flickr, you'll see some new ones posted in my stream.  But I've also replaced some of the original ones after correcting the color levels.  Currently, the difference is most obvious in my Xi'an photo set.  I've only fixed a few of the Terracotta Army photos.  Even in the thumbnail view, you can see the dramatic difference. 

I am particularly interested in the heavily manipulated images at the beginning of my stream.  Take a look and leave a comment to let me know if I'm on the right track or if I'm way off base.

Super Saturated
http://flickr.com/photos/missroon/733196647/
http://flickr.com/photos/missroon/734018122/

Black & White punched up contrast
http://flickr.com/photos/missroon/733336806/

Black & White with one item in color
http://flickr.com/photos/missroon/732356929/

Oh, and there are new photos of the kids, too.  Check back next week to see new pics of Mehsha getting baptized.

[and now a word from our sponsors...]




Missed the show?  Watch videos of the Live Earth Concert on MSN. See them now!

Thursday, July 05, 2007

A simple truth

Hot yogurt is not yummy.

[and now a word from our sponsors...]



See what you're getting into…before you go there. Check it out!

Just how young do I look?

In March, I told you that a flight attendant who was hitting on Poly on our flight back from Tokyo told me that I looked 15.  Since it was the end of the flight, I just assumed that she was tired and could barely see.  I'm 34.  I've never had anyone tell me that I look 19 years younger than I am.  (Of course, I've just reached the age where I could be 19 years older than people who are basically full grown.)

At last weekend's convention, I ran into a sister who I haven't seen in almost 10 years (well, maybe once or twice in that time).  Her first comment was, "You haven't changed a bit, you look exactly the same."  (Truthfully, she didn't look any different, either.)

That same evening, I was at my cousin's house.  A really cool sister was there who I kinda know, but not well.  All my family were talking about Mama and how young she looks for her age.  Two of my aunts were adamant that she doesn't look her age - 70.  I expressed the opinion that she's finally beginning to look her age, though throughout her life she's always looked at least 10 years younger.  Finally, the cool sister asked if we were talking about my grandmother.  I guess that she had no idea how old I was, assumed I was younger and then couldn't imagine me having a 70 year old mother. 

Yesterday, the incredibly friendly and chatty hospital tech in Mama's room asked if I was "the baby."  I told her I was.  She then went on and on about how she could tell I was the baby.  She ended by asking if I was 18.  She was shocked to find out my real age.

15?  18?  What's with these people?  In the first and last instances I wasn't wearing any makeup.  But I thought that just made me look tired, not like a teenager.  When I do wear makeup, I get comments about how "nice" I look, but no one tells me, "Dang!  You look old."

Of course, every time I see Super Mom she gasps and says, "You've got a lot of gray hair."  I finally told her last week, "You tell me that every time you see me."  I guess she forgets about it because she can't often see the top of my head.  You have to be basically standing right over me and looking closely to see all my gray, but it's there and there's plenty of it.

[and now a word from our sponsors...]



See what you're getting into…before you go there. Check it out!