...continued.
After seven days in the hospital I returned home to all my boxes. My mother. My daughter. And Nina the cat. I couldn't have been happier.
My sister is remarkable. She is the mother of five children; her youngest daughter Leah has down syndrome and requires special attention. She has three grandchildren - one of whom was born two floors above me in Mercy Hospital on June 9 (at this point Ben was less than a week old). She teaches piano lessons in her home and is active in church. She also helped my mother care for my ailing father during the final years of his life.
In the middle of everything she has going on, she and her husband, Bill, picked out and purchased a twin-size mattress for me so I would be more comfortable when I returned home from the hospital. They moved the queen-size bed out of my room and the new twin in its place, making more room for me.
Before I had gotten sick, I had purchased a new desk and shelves at Ikea, but that's as far as I got. Bill came by after work one evening and put them up. I had drawn a sketch of how I wanted everything arranged on the white floating shelves, and Kara sifted through boxes in the living room. The hallway. The garage. Until she had retrieved all the items on my sketch. Did I mention that it was June in Oklahoma and hot? And that the unmarked boxes in the garage were piled to the ceiling on top of couches, washers, dryers, and various other furniture pieces? AND, that the garage was already full of boxes that my parents had not unpacked since they moved to Edmond three years ago?
Also did I mention that I was recovering from major surgery and have an open womb to drain crud from my stomach and can barely manage to sit up without help?
I don't like being so helpless.
To be continued...
August 20, 2009
[Insert Life-altering Event #3 Here]
...continued.
"They" say bad things happen in threes...for me, this year it's been more like six or seven.
Just two weeks into my new life. New job. New home. My mom had to clear out two bedrooms to accommodate my daughter and me. So we were climbing over each others stuff...piles of boxes upon boxes of crap that had been stuffed, flung, crammed and packed with no rhyme or reason. Nothing like merging three women packrats together into a small space in a small amount of time.
I was supposed to fill in at another store while the boss was on vacation when it hit me. It was Friday and I really didn't feel well. All day I kept thinking I was coming down with some sort of stomach bug. The day progressed and the pain progressed. Long story short I had an obstruction in my bowel (scar tissue from my gastric bypass) and had to have surgery.
My opening statement said bad things - but good sometimes comes out of bad. If I hadn't been at my mother's and living in such close proximity to my daughter, I may not have sought medical attention. I thought it was a bug and I tend to suffer in silence. But Kara wouldn't hear of it. She got my mother and my sister involved and the three most important women in my life convinced me that a doctor might be able to help. Mary drove me to the emergency room and most likely saved my life.
To be continued...
"They" say bad things happen in threes...for me, this year it's been more like six or seven.
Just two weeks into my new life. New job. New home. My mom had to clear out two bedrooms to accommodate my daughter and me. So we were climbing over each others stuff...piles of boxes upon boxes of crap that had been stuffed, flung, crammed and packed with no rhyme or reason. Nothing like merging three women packrats together into a small space in a small amount of time.
I was supposed to fill in at another store while the boss was on vacation when it hit me. It was Friday and I really didn't feel well. All day I kept thinking I was coming down with some sort of stomach bug. The day progressed and the pain progressed. Long story short I had an obstruction in my bowel (scar tissue from my gastric bypass) and had to have surgery.
My opening statement said bad things - but good sometimes comes out of bad. If I hadn't been at my mother's and living in such close proximity to my daughter, I may not have sought medical attention. I thought it was a bug and I tend to suffer in silence. But Kara wouldn't hear of it. She got my mother and my sister involved and the three most important women in my life convinced me that a doctor might be able to help. Mary drove me to the emergency room and most likely saved my life.
To be continued...
August 7, 2009
[Insert Life-altering Event #2 Here]
...continued.
It's just a short three-hour drive from Dallas to Edmond, Okla., where my parents have lived since 2006. But I didn't make the drive often enough. I managed to let a thousand unimportant things keep me from making that trip more often. Guilt. Selfishness. Work obligations. Laziness.
With each visit it became painfully clear that as my father recognized me less and less, he also was disappearing before my eyes. He was losing his identity. I remember that there weren't any projects that he wouldn't attempt and master. He was creative, meticulous, and ambitious. He created his own darkroom, was a skillful carpenter, and created wire sculptures. Strong. Organized. Humble. Generous.
After his passing, I realized that I needed to make a move to help my mother through the transition. My parents married when she was just 15 years old. She's now 75. She lived with this man for 60 years and has been his sole caregiver for the past three extremely difficult years. She prefers to grieve privately, but she agreed the company would be nice; we're such good friends. It would be good for both of us. I couldn't make the move without my daughter though, but she was all for it. We are three generations of women under one roof again.
I was able to secure a position with my company and I made the transfer in less than two weeks. I moved all my worldly possessions into her garage on May 16th and began my new position May 18th. I can only compare it to a whirlwind romance in which you're swept off your feet. In short, We were all exhausted.
To be continuted....
It's just a short three-hour drive from Dallas to Edmond, Okla., where my parents have lived since 2006. But I didn't make the drive often enough. I managed to let a thousand unimportant things keep me from making that trip more often. Guilt. Selfishness. Work obligations. Laziness.
With each visit it became painfully clear that as my father recognized me less and less, he also was disappearing before my eyes. He was losing his identity. I remember that there weren't any projects that he wouldn't attempt and master. He was creative, meticulous, and ambitious. He created his own darkroom, was a skillful carpenter, and created wire sculptures. Strong. Organized. Humble. Generous.
After his passing, I realized that I needed to make a move to help my mother through the transition. My parents married when she was just 15 years old. She's now 75. She lived with this man for 60 years and has been his sole caregiver for the past three extremely difficult years. She prefers to grieve privately, but she agreed the company would be nice; we're such good friends. It would be good for both of us. I couldn't make the move without my daughter though, but she was all for it. We are three generations of women under one roof again.
I was able to secure a position with my company and I made the transfer in less than two weeks. I moved all my worldly possessions into her garage on May 16th and began my new position May 18th. I can only compare it to a whirlwind romance in which you're swept off your feet. In short, We were all exhausted.
To be continuted....
August 1, 2009
[Insert Life-shattering Event Here]
It may seem like I dropped off the face of the (Blog) planet, but, in fact, I'm still here...muttling through.
In April my father suffered a fall in which he broke his hip. Although he rallied beautifully from the surgery, recovery was impossible due to advanced Alzheimer's. He was unable to follow simple directions and his condition quickly began to deteriorate until his death three agonizing weeks later on April 28, 2009. He was 80 years old.
One bright spot was April 16, 2009 - the day of my parents 60th anniversary. Although he was unaware of the festivities around him, my family celebrated with our mother at the hospital with cake and thankfulness. In the final days, my mother rarely left his side; she had been his caregiver at home for several years.
I'll always treasure one Saturday afternoon I spent at the hospital with my son by my side. My dad was lucid as I fed him ice chips. He looked up and smiled. He said, "I'm happy."
I said, "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say that."
In April my father suffered a fall in which he broke his hip. Although he rallied beautifully from the surgery, recovery was impossible due to advanced Alzheimer's. He was unable to follow simple directions and his condition quickly began to deteriorate until his death three agonizing weeks later on April 28, 2009. He was 80 years old.
One bright spot was April 16, 2009 - the day of my parents 60th anniversary. Although he was unaware of the festivities around him, my family celebrated with our mother at the hospital with cake and thankfulness. In the final days, my mother rarely left his side; she had been his caregiver at home for several years.
I'll always treasure one Saturday afternoon I spent at the hospital with my son by my side. My dad was lucid as I fed him ice chips. He looked up and smiled. He said, "I'm happy."
I said, "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say that."
January 21, 2009
January 11, 2009
[Insert Writing Advise Here]
We all need a little help with writing. We bounce ideas off each other - for many of us, that's why we're here blogging. I found this tucked away on my computer and thought you might find it interesting:
HOW TO WRITE GOOD
by Frank L. Visco
My several years in the word game have learnt me several rules:
1. Avoid alliteration. Always.
2. Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
3. Avoid cliches like the plague. (They're old hat.)
4. Employ the vernacular.
5. Eschew ampersands & abbreviations, etc.
6. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are unnecessary.
7. It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
8. Contractions aren't necessary.
9. Foreign words and phrases are not apropos.
10. One should never generalize.
11. Eliminate quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson once said: "I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."
12. Comparisons are as bad as cliches.
13. Don't be redundant; don't use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
14. Profanity sucks.
15. Be more or less specific.
16. Understatement is always best.
17. Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.
18. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
19. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
20. The passive voice is to be avoided.
21. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
22. Even if a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.
23. Who needs rhetorical questions?
HOW TO WRITE GOOD
by Frank L. Visco
My several years in the word game have learnt me several rules:
1. Avoid alliteration. Always.
2. Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
3. Avoid cliches like the plague. (They're old hat.)
4. Employ the vernacular.
5. Eschew ampersands & abbreviations, etc.
6. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are unnecessary.
7. It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
8. Contractions aren't necessary.
9. Foreign words and phrases are not apropos.
10. One should never generalize.
11. Eliminate quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson once said: "I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."
12. Comparisons are as bad as cliches.
13. Don't be redundant; don't use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
14. Profanity sucks.
15. Be more or less specific.
16. Understatement is always best.
17. Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.
18. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
19. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
20. The passive voice is to be avoided.
21. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
22. Even if a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.
23. Who needs rhetorical questions?
January 1, 2009
[Insert New Year’s Resolution Here]
For me January 1 is always a day of reflection of the past year and an exciting beginning and exploration of what is to come in the new year.
2008 brought a lot of BIG changes for me. Every year I promise myself weight loss and better health, but each year I would fail. I might lose 20 pounds or so, but always manage to pack the pounds back on with a few extra ones to boot. 2008 was no different. I made the same vow, but for all the new year’s promises that I did not keep to myself, this year was different. I succeeded. Through life-altering surgery, I lost 115 pounds and never felt better. It may not be the right decision for everyone who is morbidly obese, but it was the best thing I have ever done for myself; I wish I had done it 10 years ago. I went from a size 26 to a size 6 in eight months.
A week before my surgery in February, I was promoted and received a raise. I am in a job that I enjoy and am surrounded by people with whom I want to work – people I respect and admire. I celebrated my 11th anniversary with Fedex Office in December.
2008 has also brought me closer to my friend and daughter, Kara, who enriches my life. She inspires me and I admire her determination when she is faced with her daily struggles. She is caring and loving and a joy to be with on road trips. (We’re taking one tomorrow to Oklahoma).
One more note about 2008. We came up with a lot of “catch phrases” for ‘08 like: Don’t hate in ’08, Don’t wait in ’08, and ‘08 is going to be great….
So how could 2009 be an improvement over that?
· I vow to get my finances in order. I’m an organized person, but I am financially irresponsible. I will make significant improvement in this area. Save money. Pay off credit debt. You know the drill.
· I will spend some time with my camera, enjoying the world around me through the eye of my camera’s lens. Also this will include guerrilla photography with Kevin on a trip to New Mexico/Arizona in April.
· Write. I’m planning to take a creative writing class and perhaps attend a workshop this year.
· Finish my portfolio that I started redoing in January 2003. Another unfinished New Year’s resolution. I’m almost there.
· Figure out how to dress myself again. I don’t know who the person in the mirror is or how to style her. It’s easy to shop when you are a size 26 – you buy what is in your size regardless of the pattern or material. It’s difficult when you have more choices (I’m not complaining though because it is more fun to shop now). I think this resolution also includes sewing for myself.
· This is the one above all others that I must succeed at: keep the weight in check and regain my strength. You know, exercise. I can rely on Kara for help and support here. She always offers her encouragement and doesn’t judge me when I’m lazy.
I’m invigorated. I really look forward to what is to come in 2009. It’s a fresh start that will only build upon the accomplishments of 2008. Everything’s fine in ’09.
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