(Nothing But) Flowers

A women I work with sent me this pic. 

While never actually meeting my mother, she attended my mother's celebration of life almost two years ago. 

During that event, we gave out packs of flower seeds, so people could plant them and think of my mother - who was an avid gardener, but couldn't keep a flower alive to save her own. My mother was all about plants - big and small. And trees. 

Jeanne took a pack or two with her. And planted them.........and then..........nothing. 

She did a planter year one. And two. The sprouted green, and that's it. Now and then I would get a photo update of what to me looked like something you'd want to spray Round-Up on. 

Duds, I'd tell her. 

She, nay - her 85 year old mother! - actually "wintered" the sprouts. Two winters in a row.  Now, granted, I really don't know what any of that means, because, ultimately, I'm not sure I care that much, but it seemed like a lot of work for a packet of seeds that probably cost me $0.49. 

Lo and behold, 22 months later, there are flowers on the ends of those green things. First just one. Then three. Now this............at least as of a few days ago. 

I can tell you, we didn't try that hard with out batch. Instead of seeing it through, we sold the house tow which they were planted. That seemed easier than tending to a garden - even it was in my mother's memory. 

Song by: Talking Heads

Mom

I haven't actively, or consciously, been avoiding Mother's Day, however semi-subconsciously I may have. I've seen some ads turning them almost immediately, as I assumed it was a week from now.  710 told me otherwise.

This is almost the lasts of the firsts. In a month or so, we'll have the last; a year since my mother died.

Like with my dad, I think of her daily. Something reminds me of her. We have enough of their house items that it would be hard not to have some daily reminder. I'll never think of their table and chairs as "ours".

It doesn't happen often, but now and then I think of something, or see something and go, "I should call her and tell her....", and then, obvi, don't. I can count on three fingers how many times she's made it to my dream cycle.

In the last week, two of her former work colleagues and her maid of honour check in to see how 710 and I are doing. All included memories of her in their correspondences. I'll be honest, I wasn't quite sure if they were doing it for me, or for themselves. Or both. None of it wrong, of course.

We are preparing for her stone-setting. The headstone was to be completed two months ago, but you know - Covid. While the company was shut down, the stone workers, must have kept going. The day they opened back up, the stone was delivered to the cemetery. They still need a few weeks to do the foundation for it - as the stone is substantial.

While it sounds harsh, I'm glad she is not here for this Covid shit. I do believe the isolation would have killed her faster than the disease itself. The inability to see family or friends would have been monumental for her.

So, of course I am sad she isn't here, but glad we are close to closing out our year of mourming.



Song by: Berlin

Fright Lined Dining Room

We now have a grown up dining room.  14 years later.

When we moved to this house, we brought our present set with us. It served us well in the other place, but in the new one, it didn't quite fit in, yet we saw little reason to up and change it.

Tables themselves are no big deal. I mean, they are, but compared to what chairs cost?  Yeah, the table isn't the investment.  It's seating where you pay the big bucks.

As it turns out, there were both tables and chairs coming my way.  In the last year or so of my mother's life, she was having us kids chose things we might want. I really wanted very few things, but one were the chairs.

I had no use for 12 of them, but they really are a set. They were hand-carved by my great-grandmother's second husband.  I know! Divorce and remarriage in the late 1800s or early 1900s.  I also have a breakfront from him, via my grandmother. It was given to me like when I was 10. Every kid's dream present.

But with the chair, my mother insisted on the table. It's not that I didn't want it. It is that I didn't want to overreach, looking greedy or anything.

So last week, when we cleared out the house, we rented a truck and moved a big-ass heavy table (wayyyyyy heavier than I ever anticipated) and a dozen, substantial carved chairs.

Honestly, we just dumped everything at home, as we were wiped and just needed to get the truck back. But as of yesterday, while I worked (yes, on a Saturday), 710 did something he wasn't supposed to do alone:  get the new furniture into the house and reassembled.

It looks amazing.

Below is the 'before'......

Actually, I liked our old table. It doesn't quite make the leap to 'formal', but it is in excellent shape and we used it often. The chairs?  I could have lived with just about anything else. And look! We have a measly four chairs!  Oh the shame. 

The carpet we bought before Expo (the failed Homo Depot design store) as they went out of business. It was probably more impulse purchase than it should have been. 

Now, the after......

It looks amazing. Though we did not put in the additional leaf. We can add it for a party or something, but for most use, it is fine.

The wood colour is darker, but we swapped out the rug for one in my mother's dining room. Both items totally change the look of the room and both of us couldn't be more pleased. 

The carpet matches our baseboards and window seats and the other carpet was busy, but so was the wallpaper, and it didn't work. Now it does.

Oddly enough, even though the carpet, chair and table were in my mother's dining room and now in ours, there is enough difference where it's familiar but doesn't look similar.

We are grateful to my mother for this gift. It's one of those things we will thing about her each and every time we use it.

btw...in the 'after' pic, you can see a glimpse of the breakfront of which I mentioned.



bad new?   One Sophie puke on that rug..........ugh.......I don't know it will be ruined, but....I won't be happy.




Song by: Arctic Monkeys

Sowing the Seeds of Love

Friday's celebration for my mother went well..........if I say so myself.  But I did hear nice words about it from others, so I don't think it was just me.

Miraculously, I nailed the headcount. I'm guessing we had between 100-110. We had room for 120. 

There were former neighbors (well to me) who showed, including one half of a couple, whom was told me to years ago, had died. Clearly I was given #fakenews. I considered telling them that story, but opted to just not. More than a few folks from the law school where my mother worked attended.  Most of them pulling me aside to tell me nice stories of their working relationship. 

There was family from both my father's and mother's side in attendance. Lots of cousins. And family friends. On average, I probably got to visit with each person for about 32 seconds each. 

The food and flowers could not have turned out any better. Mind you, I kept trying to eat, but understandably was interrupted by well-meaning folks who wanted to talk about my mother. Part of my job was to do just that. I did, however, always have a drink in my hand. So.....win!  And I kept checking to make sure that club operations was doing ok. 

The tributes turned out fairly well. There were four speakers in all - myself included. While I got compliments, I know mine started a little rough, but I finally found my stride and think it went well. 

710 had a scathingly brilliant idea a few days prior to the event, and it was flower seeds. 

My mother was an avid gardener. He thought it would be nice to order enough seeds for people to take and plant in her memory. Ironically, she was more of plants person than flowers, but the sentiment was there.  We had 100 flower packs in a basket and not one was left at the end of the event, which was very heart warming. 

It is a great wrap-up to all that has gone on in the last few weeks. It's nice to know my mother made an impact on lives outside of her kids and husband. All of that is a nice feeling with which to be left. 

Song by: Tears for Fears

Celebration

Today is the day.  Closure.

Well, in a way.

Later this morning, we will be having a 'celebration' for my mother.  It's not a funeral, it's not a memorial, per se.

What it will be is like 97 degrees.

What it will have is a more casual dress code due to the heat, food and most importantly, an open bar.

It's mid-day, so I'm not expecting a lot of drinkers, but you never know. I'm not saying I'm going to tie one on, but let's put it this way, I'm not planning on being the one to drive home.

I honestly don't know how many people will be coming. I planned food for 100. I invited her three remaining nieces and nephews and had them disseminate the 4-1-1 down to their kids. I told her favourite person at her job of 28 years, and she told the staff and former staff from there. I never asked for RSVPs, but I'm sure it's all good.

I know about 50 who will be coming. So that leaves another 50 randoms who read the obits and will become funeral crashers.

Unlike my dad's funeral, where I pretty much knew what I was going to say, all I know for tomorrow is how I'll open and close. The in between part? Improvise.

For the most part, it's a completely known audience, so I don't think it will be horrible, but stay tuned.......I'm sure I'll let you know either way.  Should it really suck, I'm guessing someone will upload YouTube footage.


That image is my mother back in 1929, at around 6 mos old. It will be part of a "slide show" that will be playing at the venue. 




Song by: Madonna

Mother

I've held off on this one for a week now, but my mother died last Sunday.

It was unexpectedly expected.

While she had been ill off and on for I'd say three years, she never truly recovered from a hospitalization she had last October.

I'm trying not to blame Spo for my mother's death, but as I was having b'fast with he and Someone when I found out she was taken to the hospital - well, it clearly adds up to his fault.

But that admission just kind of cascaded a few other rounds of setbacks.

So this last Sunday, she and I met with the nice folks from the same Hospice organization that took care of my father. She opted to be cared by them as well. We figured we would have a few weeks at their facility where people could come by, etc. I notified all my sisters of the fact and left my mother so the staff could get her ready for discharge.

I had barely walked in the door from that 20 minute drive for door to door, when they called to give me the news.

As you'd expect, I was sad at the news - and still am - but unsurprisingly (well, maybe not to all of you), I went into work mode.  I made calls to my sisters, my mom's nephew and nieces, I called any number of my mother's neighbors and friends, including her bridesmaid, who yes, is still alive and kicking it too.

I called the funeral home as well and started that process.

As it was a Sunday, there was not much else to do - well, that could be done. But those tasks kept me busy and occupied. The hardest and most emotional part was telling 710, who had been working out in the yard and missed all of this.

So, while sad, I was also at peace with much of this. I had spent a lot of time navigating my mother's health needs since my father died almost five years ago. I was well-equipped to handle the news, just for my being there for the gradual decline, the fact that I had been at the hospital almost daily since her last admit, and my chosen profession.

There is also the unknown, but assumed. It is my assertion, that once she opted for Hospice and she knew I was comfortable with her decision (I had been hoping she would but wanted to have it be HER decision), I think that was it for her. She knew she would go.

And true to her word - she waited until she was alone. Weeks before she told me she would go when no one was around, meaning any of her kids.

Yes, I had some qualms with the hospital and funeral home since then, so in a way I am still coping by doing tasks, though many of them have switched over to one sister who is the executor of the estate. I handled the medical portion.

And this last Friday, we cleared out her independent living apartment. They were "nice" enough to give us 30 days, but we had it finalized before the end of the month.

My last planning is her celebration of life. It will be more up than a memorial and way more up than a funeral. The beauty with that is, you don't have to do it immediately. People can be in better frames of mind. I'm hoping it will be nicer and less emotional.

....and I'm providing an open bar, so..............there's that.

I'll probably have a follow-up to that, but I won't eulogize my mother here.........not now. Maybe in a few weeks.

Thanks in advance for all your thoughts.



(btw......the image is from 1961.  Those glasses are still in my parent's house)



Song by: the Police

Mother

Yep.   Well, I'm assuming.




Enjoy your mother's day.




Song by: Natalie Maines

Caint Use My Phone

My 89 year old mother is now officially part of the 21st century. Yesterday, we got her an iPhone.

It's not quite as extravagant as it might sound. First off, we got her the 6 - and we got it at {gulp} Walmart.

I know....I know.  It wasn't my first choice, but what a crock that Verizon or Apple does. The latter was selling that phone for about $550. Verizon claims they don't sell them at all due to a lawsuit against Apple regarding slowing down of phones on purpose.

Here is where I should have called bullshit on that. A. The Verizon website says they sell them.  B. IF they are suing Apple, why are they selling either the 8 or X?

Walmart had the phone for $199 - and a monthly cell rate of $35. Verizon said going from a flip phone to smart phone package would start at $100 per month. 

Used car salesmen have much much much more integrity than cell phone shysters.

The bigger reason to get this for her is as she ages, her voice is.....challenged. She's finally going to a doctor about it, but at this point, I'm assuming it will be to keep it where it is, as opposed to improving it. Losing it anymore would be close to the point of mute.

So, she needs a device to keep her communicating. Her flip phone didn't even have texting capabilities, and even if it did - do you remember how texting worked on those?  She could never do it. I couldn't.

And she can use apps to order Uber, etc, where she won't have to talk to anyone to arrange such things. She has an iPad, so she has some of the functionality down. but we were over there doing a tutorial for her.....or with her.

I got her to get Siri to set a daily reminder to take medications at a certain time. She thought that was great.

So we got it, got it all set up for her, including importing 2-3 dozen contacts so she'd be ready to go. We can return this in the first 15 days, so if she's really not feeling it, we can take it back.

This is really for convenience. Honestly, sometimes it's just easier to understand her in text / email then sitting across from her at the table. But we have to be practical - at some point, this might be the only way she can communicate.

I will say, Siri picked up on everything she said, no matter how hard it was for me to understand (though truth be told, yesterday was a pretty good vocal day). I showed her she doesn't even have to go to 'favourites' or 'contacts' and just tell Siri to call me.  That made her face light up.

So, she'll give it a try and write down any questions she may have regarding the device. 




Song by: Erykah Badu

Year of the Cat

I thought I would give everyone a kitty cat update. I know you're all interested!

First off, my mother didn't like the name 'Gus', so for whatever reason, she went with Buddy.

That's ok, he's her cat. As it turns out, he really is her buddy.

Secondly, he isn't a he. He is a she.

Last Sunday, 710 and my sister did a check of the back-end and there is a socket and not a plug.

Also, my earlier assessment of Buddy's age is apparently all off. I said she was about three months old. My sister and 710 figure she might be about four weeks old. That made me feel sad that she was that young and on her own.

On the plus side, they say kittens need human interaction before week six to successfully bond with people.

I don't say Buddy is bonding with everyone, but she loves my mom - and that is really the important thing. Last Sunday, she was very very very comfortable in the family room with the five of us, but it was my mom she stayed next to most of the time.

We did put together a new vacuum cleaner for my mother and I gave Buddy the box. She had fun in it for a while.

My mother is trying to teach her name with Pounce. I'm not sure that part is working, but my sister is bribing the kitten with treats.

Buddy seems to have this ultra short tail. I'm not sure if it will grow or not. She also seem(ed) to have a grey undercoat, but the Furminator is pulling out some deep down dirt. She may have been outside on her own for longer than we know. Poor little girl. Except for her grey, she might be bright white.

She is also fascinated with the fireplace. That can only end well!

Still, my mom has really taken to Buddy as much as Buddy has taken to her. She just curls up with my mother on chairs and sofas. And if my mother isn't paying enough attention to her, she gets bit. My mother that is, not the cat.

I'm not sure this entire situation could have worked out much better.



Song by: Al Stewart

My Dear Companion

Wednesday night we heard a cat meowing outside.

I went out and looked but could not find one.

The voice was so full, both 710 and I assumed it was a full grown cat. And of course, being the softie that I am wanted to make sure it was warm and had food, but was discouraged by exhibiting this behaviour as to not have a cat hang around.

Fine!  (though I pouted a little - and worried a lot.)

Thursday morning, I had almost forgotten about him/her when I heard the wail. Kitty in distress.

Petey was all leashed up and ready to go out - chomping at the bit, if you will - but I left him inside and went out to investigate.

It wasn't a cat at all, but a kitten that could be no more than three months old.

I felt horrible about leaving it out all night when it dropped to 40 degrees. So I run inside and get it some milk and a bowl of food. It wouldn't really come out from under the table, so I went to take Pete on his walk, knowing that the guy had been there all night, surely he'd remain for another half hour.

Upon return, I found the food bowl completely empty. Now I felt very bad - he had been cold and starving. So I trotted in for a little more food.

Right back to the dish it went. And I went to the basement to find Sophie's cat carrier.

Well, first I sent a neighborhood email to ask if anyone had lost a cat - but I knew they had not. I would have gotten a notice to send out and no way a little kitten just wandered so far onto our property. But while I did that email thing, I was contemplating what to do with a kitten I was now calling 'Gus'.

Oh yes, I was quick to name "him", which of course equals attachment issues.

But my plan was to go to Rescue Village, where we got Sophie - and because they are a no-kill shelter. However, in the back of my mind, I knew I had to pass my mother's house to get there. So I grabbed a litter pan and scoop and off I went.

As I drove, that 'attachment' issue would get the best of me. I started to feel guilty about putting a kitty in a shelter.

I stopped at my mom's first. She was out doing yard work, and surprised to see me in the middle of the day. She was more surprised when I pulled out the cat carrier.

She was excited, actually. Her first words: "I don't have a littler box", to which I replied, "I do".

I made it clear, she didn't have to keep him, but she had first dibs but I was really headed to Rescue Village.

She took to "him" right away.

While I would have let the cat come out of the carrier on its own, my mother reached in and cuddled with the cat and vice versa.

Though he didn't purr, he was very comfortable with my mom and nuzzled with her. We set up the laundry room as the induction center. I ran to the store to buy food and a few toys and some additional litter. My mom used that time for bonding.

We left the kitten alone while we had lunch, but the kitten mewed a lot. At this point, the cat had been wide awake for at least four hours and no signs of tiring - though I know when it crashes, it will crash hard.

Before I left, the kitten was in my mom's lap, seemingly as content as could be. The new times I went near it, he hissed at me. But that's to be expected. I had to stalk and trap it, but he was good in the car with me.

I don't doubt, my mother will disregard the intake area and have him out in the family room that first evening. I do know that "Gus" is now a purring machine for her - so that's great.

She must be excited because she called at least two of my sister with "the news".

I think this will be good for my newly widowed mother. And I think it will be good for the kitten too.

We really do need to find the gender so my mother can name it appropriately. So far the grandkids all have their ideas for names.

I don't know if I believe in an afterlife or fate. In my father's eulogy, I talked about his love of animals, which he passed on to me. He made it clear he didn't want to leave my mother alone, before he passed and then here I am with a kitten with no home.

Even if all of it is coincidence, it makes for a great story.



Song by: Emmylou Harris, Dolly Parton & Linda Ronstadt