“Funny”

A thing that I find funny, you know, in that funny-not funny way that things sometimes are in life (and death) is a little tidbit regarding my mom and my husband.
They both loved me (us) very much and wanted to take care of me (us) in the best way that they knew how. They just really disagreed on what that looked like.
So, while they could put aside their differences sometimes, they could also really, really, not get along at other times.
Now that they are both gone, we are going through some rough transitional times, but ultimately, it will end up that between the benefits we receive from Al’s disability and the income we will end up getting from mom’s estate, we will be okay. And it will be roughly in half as to who the support comes from.
So they will have managed to work together to take care of us “one last time,” in spite of their differences.

I like to think that they aren’t burdened by petty squabbles any more and can see each others’ motives clearly now. So that will help them to work together to help us as time passes. Between the two of them (and others, of course) we have a pretty damn good team working for us.

and hilarity ensues. or terror, it’s sometimes hard to tell.

My aunt and uncle were at LAX when there was a shooting. So they were delayed a couple/few hours. Then when they were finally loaded on the plane, a baggage cart crashed into the plane next to them’s engine and they were delayed again waiting for the emergency vehicles and clean up. They weren’t sure that they were going to get to SeaTac in time to rent a car. So they called ahead. The lady said that they were open 24 hrs, so no problem. They finally got there at 12:07 and the lady says, “sorry, we close at midnight.”

So they get a car.

They go all the way out to it and it doesn’t work. So they have to go back and exchange it. The guy is then like “ok, well, go bring me the keys back” (at this point, people were starting to lose their cool)

So J is like, “give me a new car.”

“All we have is SUV’s”

“I don’t care. Just give me something with four tires and a steering wheel that runs.”

“Well, they cost more.”

“No, Give me a car and I’m paying the $17 a day that I signed up for online. and you are giving me a car!”

So they finally got here at like 3 in the morning. My cousin was flying in to SeaTac and supposed to meet them and drive down with them. But he was there and they weren’t, so my other aunt went back and got him. He was there a few hrs I think. He got here at about 11:00.

Saturday we had a shuttle bus chartered to take us up to where we were going to spread Wally’s ashes. That went fairly well, except for the brakes or a belt or the heater or something starting to melt or something filling the bus with toxic fumes.  That got squared away and the only other thing was that it was snowing up there and sideways wind. So we couldn’t really walk around and see much without freezing to death…and we got pretty worried when K turned up missing. She went a little way up the trail up the mountain, but didn’t tell anyone she’d gone. Then Davy went to find her and disappeared. Though we collected him shortly. Eventually all were collected and we returned to the cabin unharmed.

The rest of the weekend has been uneventful. With the exception of a strange flickering and surging of the lights and power. We attributed it to too many things plugged in, but when the oven keeps turning off and you are trying to make pizzas (and have already gotten to the point where they need to be cooked.) and it takes HOURS to do it. The maintenance guy decided that it was a transformer out on the road and called the power company after the power surged and two DVD players popped, fried and started smoking. Eventually we were able to finish cooking by putting the pizza trays on the top of the wood-stove. We were using candles, flashlights, and cellphone screens for light. augmented by the occasional epileptic siezure inspiring strobe light effect. Eventually we turned off most or all of that. It was okay until one of the outlets, during one of the surges, popped and caught fire by itself while there was nothing plugged into it. then we were nervous and turned EVERYthing off at the circuit breaker so we might be able to sleep. (we considered taking turns keeping watch). But at 10:00 or so the power company arrived and I think they got it fixed last night. I wake up really early right now, so I’m not the one who’s going to start flashing circuit breakers and stuff on to see who I can terrorize in the wee early hours with sudden daylight in their eyes.

Don’t forget, it’s daylight savings or the end of it.

Other than all that, the weekend has been great. No one has been arrested or even pulled over, so I think we’re counting the weekend (so far) as a win. or something. And completely typical of our gatherings.

Remembering The Dead

For me, I end up not being a fan of September. It starts out okay. I love school starting up. I enjoy the easing of the temperatures.  I like fall. I like spring and fall best, but spring tends to be a riotous toddler freshly woke from a nap given to tantrums and erratic behavior. It’s just hard to keep up. Fall is more of a gentle easing. The hot, full, carefree party days of summer are through, though remembered with fondness, and we settle in to enjoy the harvest bounty while looking ahead toward the hibernative nature of the rest of the turning of the wheel.

This is good.

But then, you know, things have happened in September to make it less appealing. Personally for me, it’s my mom’s death. The 21st. This year I was hurrying to accomplish some legal things regarding her death before a time limit ran out. This involved me telling the specifics of the situation multiple times to multiple people who then declined to hear any more about it.

In the midst of this, the 11th showed up to pull the shades down a touch lower.

Sigh.

So I put out a question to my internet friends.

What songs do you listen to for cheering up and endurance, you’ll get through this inspiration?

I got lots of great suggestions, but one in particular hit the spot for me that day.

It’s funny how you forget things.

Things that were a very large part of your existence.

I grew up in a family that was very much into the Grateful Dead.

It was very much the background music of my childhood. And often the foreground music as well. We had lots of family gatherings that centered around us all going to their concerts. The fabric of my life is tie-dyed. Really.

So when someone suggested “I Will Survive” by the Grateful Dead (Touch of Grey, actually) I knew immediately that that was one I needed to listen to. And as I did, it reminded me of those times before.  Those times before I grew up and life got complicated. Before I had known much loss and change. Before she was gone. I listened to a few more of their songs* and felt really close to my mom again.

My heart settled and healed a bit.

It feels good to remember the Dead.

*other songs like:

friend of the devil

truckin

sugar magnolia

uncle john’s band

Self Portrait (satur)Day

I was waiting for my husband yesterday and started goofing around with my photo app on my phone.  

 

Yeah, goofing around. 🙂

 

 

Then I realized that I really look like my mom.

Six Word Friday: Rusty

I know that rusty can mean

a whole entire list of things.

But, for me, Rusty only means

the one single important special thing:

My mom’s best and favorite dog.

We had many over the years.

But mom was never very good

at the discipline of their training.

So often we had to rely

upon their good nature to achieve

Good behavior and long term harmony.

As you can imagine, that didn’t

always work out all that well.

Rusty came into Mom’s life by

random chance or by serendipitous circumstance.

She found him wandering one day.

It seems he’d been a hunter.

Extremely well trained and highly restricted

in his previous life and interactions.

Theirs was a match made in

dog-lover and human-owner heaven.

Rusty came pre-trained and well behaved.

Mom gave him the freedom to

relax and just be a dog.

She was devastated when he died.

When she died, we mixed her

and his ashes and released them

into the ocean together. Together forever.

 

Six Word Friday: Wander

“All who wander are not lost”

this is probably my favorite quote

In my life I have never

really been deeply rooted in one

place. My mom and I were

not gypsies. We didn’t travel constantly.

But every few years, whether due

to finances or restlessness, we moved.

I think we were searching for

our tribe. Our roots were always

set in our family. We always

lived near someone we love. But

I think some places fit better

than others for our unique temperaments.

After a while, we would get

itchy feet again, and move on.

In between all that, I traveled

every summer (and most Christmases)to

my grandparent’s house to stay with

my dad and the family there.

I find it very strange that

my son has always lived here.

We’ve moved a couple times since

he was born. But really, not

very far and not at all

since he was around two years

old. We are fast approaching ten.

My feet are getting pretty itchy.

Soon I need to get lost,

or rather, I need to wander.

(highway, train tracks, river. transportation abounds)

A Day of Peace

It’s not a holiday that get’s much play.

Not a lot of money to be made hawking Peace Day cards, I suppose.

So I rarely hear of it and often forget about it.

But someone on Fb will mention it and I will get the message just when I really need it most.

September 21st is the anniversary of my mom’s death and can be really hard.

I think she would appreciate that it’s the International Day of Peace.

She would want us to remember her and celebrate peace.

Two years is a long time. But 54 is longer. I don’t want to let her death overshadow the fact of her life.

She is at peace.

Hopefully the rest of us can be, too.

Peace be with you.

This morning’s sunrise.

Peace be with us.

Let there be peace on Earth,

and let it begin with me.

~*~

PEACE
BE
WITH
YOU.

♥

Mother. May. I…

She was born in 1956. She would be 56 this year. Just a quick 20 years older than I.

Being as her birthday is the 13th of May, it is always engaged in a dance with the Mother’s Day.

Occasionally they meet up.

Like today.

Last year was the first Mother’s Day since she’d been gone and her birthday was on the Friday before it. I don’t know yet if it’s harder this way or not. I’ll hazard a guess that every year will be hard in its own unique way.

This year, I would have loved for her to see me hanging my BFA Senior Art Show which opened on Thursday. and graduating next month. and, of course, how big and strong and cool her favorite (and only) grandson is growing up to be. These things hurt my heart.

But we will not dwell on them too long, for while they are true, they are not the whole story. The whole story is so much bigger and broader than just that. I talk to her about these things and ask her to help me and watch over things.

and still, that is not the whole story. I am so grateful for the 34 years that we had together even as rough as some of them we were on each other. There are many, too many, people that lose their parent far younger than I did and have an even smaller bank of memories to draw upon to comfort them when they need it. Obviously, I would have liked to have longer with her. I would have loved to have been able to grumble and fumble our relationship into our old ages together. But that is not the cards we’ve been dealt. And you have to play the cards in hand, not the rest of the deck.

I’ve probably rambled on for long enough.

I love you, Mom.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO YOU! (and the Grandmas)

I miss you.

 

Six word Fridays: Return

I wish that you could return.

These crumbs left behind? No feast.

For the entire cake, I yearn.

My finger’s burned……

…….The lessons learned.

I wish that you could return.

Healing Susan

So.

This morning a friend on Facebook posted this link.

http://toddlerplanet.wordpress.com/2012/01/22/how-did-we-get-here/

I went and read this post by the strongest bravest person I’ve seen in quite some time.

If you have a moment to click through and read about her journey and send her some healing thoughts or prayers, you won’t regret it.

For me, the comments are what got me.

When I read it there were 245 comments all saying something very close to the same thing.

Dear Susan, we love you. You are surrounded and bathed in love. You are lifted in healing light. We are thinking of you and sending you love and prayers.

The love I could feel coming off the screen was very nearly palpable, but that wasn’t what got me.

You see, my mother was named Susan.

Reading comment after comment about how Susan is loved and lifted in the light hurts a little, but mostly heals my heart.

Dear Mama,

I love you.

You are surrounded and bathed in love.

You are lifted in healing light.

I am thinking of you and sending you love and prayers.

♥