Missing Mom on her Birthday

Celebrating Mom's birthday!

Mom (on the right) and her sisters, Evelyn and Margaret

Mom and me and my dogs

Mom and her grandkids

Monday the 16th of March is Mom's birthday. The first birthday I haven't been able to celebrate with her. She's gone on to heaven where she doesn't have to worry about getting older and where every day can be blessing filled. Mom would have been 95 if she had made it to this day. She did not. She passed on last July. Mom always said she wanted to live to be 100. She almost made it. 

Mom with my sister and her granddaughters

She had a hard way to go those last few years after dementia stole her ability to remember. That's not something I'd wish on anybody. And certainly nothing I wanted my mother or us, her family, to go through. My mother was a very determined woman and so when dementia made her think she was still a young woman who needed to be taking care of her children or cooking for her husband or sometimes being so young that she needed to be home with her parents, then she could not accept that she couldn't go out the door and do what she thought she needed to be doing.

Mom and a great granddaughtr

But now if I can push those last unhappy years aside, I know how much Mom loved life and how much she loved her family. She was a beautiful woman inside and out. And I was very fortunate to be her daughter. What a blessing to have a mother like her! She made sure we learned right from wrong. She encouraged us in whatever we wanted to do with our lives. She loved us even when we were not exactly lovable. 

Mom and another great granddaughter

In her more aware moments in those last years she would say she was tired and ready to give up living except she didn't want to leave us. Family meant so much to her. She meant so much to me. I miss her! 

Mom loved our family reunions

I know many of you have had to say goodbye to your own mothers or fathers. You've told me how much you miss them. How you wish you could have a few more days to walk beside them and hear some of the old family stories again. You've told me how you carry them with you in your hearts. Our mother's voice is the first voice we heard and her words will forever whisper in our thoughts. 

So happy birthday to my mom. I won't get to give you a hug on your birthday or buy you flowers. But I will remember all the beautiful things you've given me. Life and joy and the wonderful knowledge of your love. 

Do you have or did you have a wonderful mother like that?

When Things Go Wrong

Some days are harder than other days. Some days we get up and whatever can go wrong seems to be in a hurry to head down that road. I had one of those afternoons last week. A day when everything seemed to pile on. I had a lot to do. Words for the new story weren't exactly spilling out. The new room was sounding good, but promising extra work. Other extra chores showing up.

Time seemed to be in very short supply even though I knew the days all still had the same amount of hours and minutes. But how was I going to fit everything into those hours and minutes? Especially with the hours I was going to be spending at Mom's. And then my dog, Oscar, didn't get out of the way of one of the workers building our new room. The truck ran over his leg and broke it. I was sitting with Mom when the call came, but I couldn't leave to see about him. Mom can't be alone. So I had to wait until my husband could go home to check on him a couple of hours later. Then he was off to the vet's where Oscar has been ever since in the doggie hospital after surgery on his back leg.

It was frustrating to not be able to go see if Oscar was all right. I know he's only a dog, but he's my dog and a very good dog at that. But then the afternoon just got worse with a call that a dear friend of my sister's had died suddenly. Amelia was a beautiful lady that we will all miss. Perhaps Mom sensed my upset because she became agitated and determined to go home to her childhood home because "her mother expected her." She didn't know who I was and said I was definitely "not her daughter." She had to be married to have daughters. Meanwhile my daughter was on the way home for a visit for the first time since Christmas, and I was anxious to be at home to see her. Things went from bad to worse on my stress meter when Mom's night sitter didn't show up due to a mix-up. And I didn't have her telephone number.

A bad afternoon. But you know, everybody has those kinds of days. And when I stopped having my "pity party" I knew I had plenty of blessings to count, among them that Oscar most likely will be okay, although perhaps with a bum leg. Mom settled down and remembered I was her daughter the next day. My daughter made it home safely. I have more weeks to try to find the right words for my story. My grandchildren are beautiful and healthy. I have friends who love me enough to pray for my mother, for my sister's friend's family, and even for my sweet dog. Prayer makes a difference when you're having a bad day and makes good days better.

 

And Mom had a birthday yesterday that turned into a pretty good day for her. She was 93. Sometimes she even realizes that, but most of the time she isn't happy to hear that number. She used to tell us all the time that she wanted to live to be 100, but she never imagined having dementia that was going to steal the joy out of those 100 years. But she did have some joy on her birthday. She got roses from a dear friend. She got hugs from some of her great grandchildren. She got flowers and presents and cards from us. I fixed her an Angel food cake with strawberries and she gave all the strawberries off her plate to the littlest great granddaughter who loves strawberries. We also had chocolate pie that my daughter and I made from my mother's recipe. It was okay, but it wasn't as good as Mom's used to be.

 

But some of her family was able to come and share a little time with her. While they were here, she was almost like her old self. Loving the kids. Laughing when somebody was talking to her. Blowing out the two candles on her cake. Looking at her presents and cards that were new over and over since she didn't remember looking at them before. A good afternoon for her and an answer to prayer.

 

So thank you for reading about my bad day and my good day. Please remember Amelia's family in your prayers. Their bad day is ongoing for they will be missing their mother and grandmother and wife for a long time as many of you are still missing your grandmothers. I do have a few more grandmother stories I'm going to share in the days to come. And I'd still love to hear yours if you want to share a story. The contest for the Grandmother's Bible is still open, so pitch your name in my hat for the drawing if you haven't already. Just leave a comment on this blog or on Jocie's blog or send me an e-mail from my website.  

Mom celebrates 91 years

Today was my mother's 91st birthday. She has a hard time believing it. Every time we tell her she's 91, she gives us a look as if we must be crazy. Like there's no way she could be 91. She's even more surprised and amazed if we start telling her how old we - her daughters - are. I know the feeling. I think the same thing every time I stop and figure out how old my kids are now. You know, I didn't have a bit of trouble keeping up with their ages when they were 3 or 5 or even 18. But now, well, now I have to think about the year they were born and wonder where the years went.
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I think that is what Mom is wondering. When she was a little girl she told everybody she was going to live to be 100, and now she's actually in that last decade headed that way. Her sisters deserted her and went on to heaven, but she's still here. Still doing the best she can even though her body is getting weak on her and even worse, her memory is not only failing her, it sometimes plays tricks on her and makes her think things that didn't happen. Unfortunately, usually distressing things. Dementia is not for sissies.
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Mom was certainly never that. When a kid, she was out playing ball with the boys and wading in the creeks and catching toads and even sometimes snakes. She was afraid of very little and she knew how to enjoy life no matter the circumstances. So what if her family didn't have much money? They had food. They had a house. They had love.
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That's something Mom has always had - love. And plenty to give away. She was a wonderful mother who thought her daughters could do anything they set their minds to doing. We grew up working on our farm. We had chores and responsibilities and Mom expected us to act like we had some sense. But she also let us have plenty of freedom to explore the woods, to read library books, to find our way.
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Mom has seen a lot of changes in her lifetime. She warmed her feet at her father's blacksmith forge. She saw cars push horses and buggies off the roads. She carried plates of food out to hungry strangers during the Depression years. She saw her friends and brothers-in-law go off to war in WW II. Dad didn't go because he was a farmer. The government wanted to maintain a good food supply. She witnessed the lights coming on in her house when the electric coop pushed the lines out into the country. She gave birth to two babies at home and one in the hospital. She learned how to crank a car and start it so she could go visit her parents. She drove tractors and big trucks. And once when she was a kid she roller-skated eight miles to town. And back. One of her wedding gifts was a laying hen. She raised chickens to fry for supper and milked cows. She made lye soap and washed clothes with water she heated in an iron kettle over a fire in the back yard. She even learned to make souse. (If you don't know what that is or how that's made, you're better off not asking.) She claimed not to like cats, but let Maggie, a gray and white one, come in the house and sleep on the bed. When I got the dog hunger so bad all I could think about was getting a dog, she let a friend give me a pup. She bottle fed calves and lambs. And she liked to dress up in high heels and wear a dab of perfume behind her ears. She was president of the PTA and a 4-H leader. She worked as a clerk in a dress shop and a grocery store. She taught the grandkids how to play cards and didn't always let them win. She was a wonderful mother and grandmother too.
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She's still a wonderful mother. It's just that now her memory is failing her and her body is more and more fragile. But she takes it a day at a time and sometimes she remembers the good times when she was a kid. Those are the good stories. The ones I used to set the scene for my book, Angel Sister. And while Mom can't remember reading it, she's still glad it's there by her chair. Still glad to know each time I tell her that it is her story as much as it is mine.
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Thanks for reading!

Sunday Traditions

Don't you just love Sundays? There's even something about the word that sounds good - Sunday. What did you do on Sundays when you were a kid? We visited with family most every Sunday. One Sunday my cousins and their parents would be at our house. The next Sunday we'd go to theirs. We had so much fun. Then when I got married we tended just to go to Mom's house or my Mom-in-law's house every Sunday. And my kids got to play with their cousins.

I'm a little sad to say that tradition didn't carry over with my kids. Two of them moved out of state after they got out of college and can't very well come spend Sunday afternoon with Mom and Dad. Even a good home-cooked meal can't entice them to make that kind of trip very often. My youngest lives close enough, but then my husband is in a gospel quartet and is gone most Sundays singing in this or that church. So they come sometimes but Sundays are more family days for them. And that's good. So I still go to see my mom when I'm not tagging along with the quartet.

Today I had my sisters out for Mom's birthday dinner. I got up and cooked and cooked all this delicious food. Then they brought some delicious food. We had way too much, but we enjoyed. Maybe the best thing is that having company always motivates me to clear away some of the clutter that accumulates way too fast. My desk is breathing a sigh of relief and so am I. I'm hoping I'll be able to work better with some of that paperwork filed away. I'm a hundred pages in on my new book and thinking there is no way in my fictional world I'll ever be able to tell the story I want to tell in the proper number of pages. I've even considered coming up with a whole new story, but then I think this one might work. I just need to get it written and then I can worry about the length and cutting out parts of it then.

Of course getting it written is sometimes the hard part. Especially with all the distractions like cleaning off that desk or shopping for a suitable dress to wear to that dinner is Texas. I looked for a red one, but red must not be in this spring. (I tried, Susie.) I did get red earrings, and I don't even wear earrings. Normally. But somebody said I had to have earrings with my hair short like it is.

And talk about distractions. Now it's tax time. Yuck! But I can't put that off much longer. I actually made myself start gathering the bad news yesterday. I have to keep reminding myself that it's a blessing to have a reason to pay taxes. In this economy that's to the good. And while I'm hoping the economy improves for everyone, I'm also hoping it's true that a down economy doesn't keep people from reading books.

Books are a cheap form of entertainment. They can take you traveling when you can't afford the gas or the plane fare. They can make you smile when you weren't sure you could find any reason to smile. They can take you on adventures you would never even consider trying. I've climbed mountains, shot rapids, been in the middle of battles, lived through car chases, and any number of other exciting scenes. But the best part is being in that favorite character's skin throughout the story and living it with him or her.

So enjoy your Sunday. Hope you have a few hours for a good book. And I'll talk to you again Wednesday before I fly off to Dallas.

Memories on my Mother's Birthday

Today is my mother’s birthday. She is 88. She was the second of four sisters. No brothers. Her father was a blacksmith and her mother was a housewife when that word seemed to carry more honor. Now we’re homemakers or domestic engineers or a lot of us are wearing so many hats we don’t know what to call ourselves. Mom grew up during the Great Depression, but although she knows they never had any money to speak of, she never felt poor. She and her sisters were loved and had food on the table and books to read. Her father and mother were both readers, and I’ve heard my grandmother say she was never happier than when she and my grandfather spent an evening in companionable reading. My grandfather enjoyed reading about scientific advances and history as well as fiction. I don’t remember him very well because he died when I was young. But I can tell by the way my mother and my aunt talk about him that he loved his daughters very much. And what better gift to leave your children than the assurance of your love? That’s the gift my mother passed on to me and that I have done my best to pass on to my children.

Mom has lost two of her sisters, the oldest and the youngest. She and the other middle sister still get together at least once a week to talk about the good times when they were growing up and having fun together. I’ve been eavesdropping on some of their conversations and going back in time with them. They remember their father pulling his chair up close to the radio to listen to Joe Louis knock out whoever climbed in the ring with him. They smile when they talk about sitting on the outer edges of their father’s forge to warm up on cold winter days. They laugh about the taffy pulling parties their mother let them have when some of their friends ended up with fingers stuck together. They know where they were when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and how that changed their lives. My aunt rode across the country on a train to spend a few weeks with her husband before he was shipped overseas. That was the first time she was ever away from home. She rode the train back home with a baby on board. So many memories.

We all have memories we treasure, but that perhaps we never share with anyone. Maybe we feel they’re not important enough to tell others. But I’ve found my grandchildren’s ears perk up when I tell them about some little thing their daddy did when he was growing up. Stories tie us together and help us realize what makes us a family. Next time you get together with your extended families, listen to each other’s stories and enjoy!

I’m going to do some remembering when I do my presentations at the Anderson County Public Library here in Lawrenceburg on Sunday April 13th at 2 p.m. and at the Paul Sawyier Library in Frankfort, KY on Thursday May 8th at 6 p.m. I’m planning to do some just for fun Sixties Trivia. Whether you lived through the Sixties or have only read about what happened back in the olden days, we can have some fun remembering. I’ll also be talking about my writing and giving away some door prizes at both events. Nothing too big since I’m only a poor struggling author, but you might win one of my books or perhaps an Elvis CD. Hope if you’re in the area, you’ll come out and join in the fun.

Finally here’s a list I came across to leave you with a smile while you think up your own additions to the list.

10 Things to show God has a Sense of Humor
1. The platypus
2. The digestive system
3. Bumblebees
4. Baby giraffes
5. The appendix
6. Solar eclipses
7. The story of Baalam and his talking donkey (Numbers 22)
8. Hammerhead sharks
9. Snowflakes
10. Oklahoma weather

I think I’d have to put Kentucky weather right in there with Oklahoma. Especially in March. And I don’t know about the snowflakes although I have wondered how anybody can be absolutely sure no two snowflakes are exactly alike since we certainly haven't inspected them all. Of course what might show the Lord’s sense of humor best is all of us.

Happy St. Paddy’s Day. Hope you have a good reason to laugh at least once every day. Laughter worketh good like a medicine. It promises us that in the Bible.