Significant Days

Today is the Belle's birthday. She would've been 85. I'm not sure if Hangdog has made the connection and I don't think we will bring it up.

Society has programmed us to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, etc. Throw in Arbor Day and a bunch of other useless holidays. Not my birthday of course, I need the week.

It's almost Valentine's Day. Since I screwed up on Christmas, I have this Valentine's Day planned out. Gifts? Check. Cute card? Check. Maybe I can redeem myself.

The Dance

This week has been brutal and we've only just begun. Our next super-fun adventure is packing and schlepping Hangdog to some 'burg in Mississippi. We don't have to get on a train but there will be wheelchairs, planes and automobiles involved.

There will also be some interesting family dynamics. I'll try to keep my notebook hidden but I will make notes.

Last night, I decided to lie down for a second. I promptly fell asleep and was awakened by voices. I came out to find the husband and our physician (saint-in-training) sitting by the fire, sharing stories about the Belle. Not a dry eye in the house.

Our doc went home. The husband went to visit Hangdog. I sat by the fire and listened to music. Garth Brooks, The Dance, came on. It's really about the end of a marriage (or at least a relationship,) but these words hit me hard:

I'm glad -- glad I didn't know
The way that it would end, the way that it would go
Our lives are better left to chance.
I could've missed the pain
But, I'd have had to miss the dance.

I would not have missed this dance for anything.

Some Tips about Dying

I'm learning a lot. Here are a few tips:

Die in the city where your burial plot is located.
Let people know your history, especially dates.
Let people know your wishes, i.e. service or no service, closed casket or open, religious preferences.
Let people know your songs or quotes or the bible passages you would like included, if any.
Let people know where the relevant papers are kept.
Let people know what you would like to be buried in.

Give people great memories, like this one of the Belle, in her kicky shoes, standing by the piano.

Bye Bye Belle

The mother-in-law passed away this morning.

Don't Mess with the Belle

Our favorite doctor always refers to Hangdog as "Captain" and the mother-in-law as "The Southern Belle." He's earned the Captain title and she is certainly a southern belle.

Some blogs give interesting and delicious recipes. If you're looking for that, you're reading the wrong blog. But, I am going to give you a recipe:

Take one southern belle and make some decisions for her.
Toss in food that isn't coated in nine pounds of butter.
Move her from a hospital to a rehab facility, preferably in an ambulance.
Throw in some painkillers and various narcotics.

Let stew until the anger begins to boil over. Get out of the way.

There you go. You now have my personal recipe for an oldies explosion/meltdown. I'm happy to share it but I don't recommend it.