Sunday, May 13, 2012

Happy Mother's Day: Ode to Ma.


So this is Helen, my mother.  She was a character and a half.  It's hard to imagine that she has been gone over five years.  Just doesn't seem possible, plain and simple.  Was it yesterday when I held her hand, gently told her that it was okay to say goodbye to me?  I squeezed her fingers and held on for my dear life as I listened to her take her last breath.  Most of the time, though, it seems like an eternity since she's been gone.  This woman could drive me sheer off the berserk-o scale, but the bottom line is that I would give just about anything to have one more day with this woman.  Heck, I'd settle for anything I could get, one more minute, one more opportunity to say the words "I love you."

As a kid growing up, Ma was my best friend.  She was CRAZY and above all, liked to have fun. I used to think that my girlfriends wanted to come over and spend the night at my house so that they could hang with HER.  Decades of bad health would take some of that fun-loving spirit away from her but not all of it.  Even at the nursing home where she spent her final four years of her life, she was Belle of the Ball and she was loved there by everyone. 

I haven't been writing my blog very much these days.  My father arrived home from Florida last week and my time is better spent with this aging man instead of sitting at the computer.  Right now, he's off running errands and I thought that I would take the time to pay tribute to my mom on Mother's Day.

The following are excepts from words that I spoke at her funeral.  Only six people were able to attend the service as there was a MASSIVE snowstorm.  I called everyone I could think of that morning, asking them to please stay safe at home rather than risk an accident or worse.  Too bad, as they missed a pretty good time, as much as one can say that about a funeral.  Ma would have wanted us to smile rather than to wail and cry, and that's exactly what we tried to do as we watched the inches of snow pile up into feet. These words will help you to get to know my mother.  As I said, she was a character.

                                                     SOME HELEN DESCRIPTORS

  • The neighborhood party planner.  I still don't know everything that took place at these events and it's probably a good thing.
  • One tough cookie.  She held very high expectations for everyone around her.
  • A lover of cigarettes, a three-pack-a-day woman, who later substituted three bags a day of candy and popcorn.   
  • The most stubborn German ever born.  But under it all, she really had a wonderful sense of humor.  We had great fun, most of it being legal.  Oh, there was that one time.  I remember we found ourselves out in the country in the middle of the night.  I was standing on my cousin's shoulders, dismantling a Cattle Crossing sign, with my dear sweet mother crouched down in the trunk of the car, playing lookout.  
  • A Mitch Miller Affecianato.  She'd go downstairs with a can or two of Genesee Mule Swill and belt out The Whippenpoof Song on our cranky old player piano.  A self-taught musician, I'd lay in bed in the middle of the night and listen to "We are poor little lambs who have lost our way, baa, baa, baa, blah, blah, blah," wafting through the hot air registers.  To this day, I  personally hold her responsible for our entire family being chronic insomniacs.
  • A lover of reading and the educational process.  She may have been short on money, her family being dirt poor.  But she wasn't short on brains.  She was the valedictorian of her class at a large suburban high school.  I will always remember with great affection our weekly trips to the grocery store, where she would stuff me like a little pork sausage into the kiddy chair in the grocery cart.  No matter how tight the grocery money was on any given week, I was allowed to pick out a new Little Golden Book.  She read to me every evening, sometimes even when I was a teenager. 
  • A lover of game shows.  Summers at noon, my mother, my brother and I would eat lunch to Jeopardy.  She'd sit there in the living room, wearing her napkin as a bib, suckling on her pickled pigs feet and nibbling on liverwurst.  Sometimes, I think she revolved her three marriages based on the show Let's Make A Deal.  She didn't like what she got behind curtain one (my father) and two (a REAL disaster), so she wheeled and dealed and finally got it right when she selected the man behind curtain number three, who ended up being the keeper.  Ed really loved her and treated her like royalty.  Speaking of which, she was:
  • Queen.  Helen and I invented a place called Queenie Land.  Here was a place where there was no pain, where she didn't have to waitress with her back in a sling, where there was no vacuuming; a place where men fed us grapes and waited on us hand and foot.   

Enjoy your Queenie Land, Ma.  And know that on Mother's Day and every day, I love and miss you.

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Zoom Zoom

Didn't I just mention this crazy world of ours and how it just ZOOMS by, zoom, zoom, zoom.  Blink, lookie here, already it's the merry, merry month of May, and that means it's time for the snowbird to come home to roost.  Cock-a-doodle-doo. 

Yesterday, I drove my hubby to the airport.  Destination: Tampa and points north to New Port Richie. His job is to fly down and then drive my father back home to the prairie.  My husband won't let me do this for him, although I have offered many times.  I think that (a) he really likes to fly; (b) he is a kind, considerate man and knows that he has more stamina than I; and (c) he has told me pretty much that if I were to spend that amount of time cooped up in a vehicle with my father, the end result wouldn't be pretty.  So every October, Hubby drives Pops to Florida and then flies home, and in May, the process is reversed.  For this, I am thankful.  I'm thankful that at the ripe old age of 86, my dad is still well enough to make this journey, to take care of and enjoy himself in the Sunshine State.  I am fortunate indeed.

They have been on the road already for two hours this morning, and they will arrive home tomorrow in time to hear the dinner bell, barring anything unforeseen. This means that I have been and will be alone, unattended and unchaperoned, for many hours.  Yesterday, I made the decision that as long as I had to take hubby to the airport, I might as well have my own adventure.  I made plans to stay in the big city and hook up with a friend of mine who lives close to the airport.

I spent the morning yacking it up with my friend, taking time off momentarily to take breaths and to suck down coffee.  Eventually, off we went on a shopping spree.

First stop, a restaurant supply company, where I purchased a case of XTRA Hot Sauce for hubby's pizza business.  Taking advantage of the situation, I bought some grocery items, too, at rock-bottom prices.  I LOVE this store, especially their produce and dairy, where prices seem to be especially low. Mother's Day is quickly approaching and my mother-in-law adores their frozen pecan pie so that made its way into my cart also.

Gee, look at that.  Right next door is the Rescue Mission.  There, I found a nice pair of dress slacks and a pair of shorts to see me through the next few pounds of weight loss, provided that I'm able to shut my mouth long enough to shed another ten pounds. Both looked great and the price tag came to ten bucks. More important, they were purchased in the ladies rather than in the plus size section.  Sixty pounds gone will do that. 

Down the road we went to Michael's, an arts/craft store.  I needed three round watercolor brushes and I just happened to have a 25% off coupon.  Across the parking lot from there stands a Christmas Tree Shop, where I bought art mats and other assorted stuff.  That store is good for stuff.

Eventually, down the road I had to go, back to the prairie.  I was on a little bit of a time frame.  The Fed Ex man was scheduled to drop off a delivery: ten thousand mealworms.  I kid you not.  Those baby bluebirds out in that nest are plenty hungry.  And I very well couldn't have ten thousand mealworms sitting out there, baking in the sun.  They needed to get to our cool basement, into their nice bedding of wheat bran.  Sure enough, when I pulled into the driveway, there sat the carton by the front of the house.  My grand adventure was officially over.

Maybe to you, the day didn't seem like much.  But for me, a person who doesn't get off the farm very much or who rarely travels much beyond a ten or fifteen mile radius, this was a real treat.  It really takes little to make me happy.  Today, it's back to business as usual: feeding those baby birds, the laundry basket is overflowing, there's a house to clean.  If time, there's onions to plant that really should get into the ground today.  Hopefully, I'll get that last bulb planted in the ground and it's time for yet another friend and another adventure: a local fire department is having their annual chicken barbeque and in my opinion, it's the best in the land.  I just go WILD when my husband's not home.  Zoom.