Maya Angelou says one of the greatest gift you can give a child is to have your eyes light up when they enter a room. I agree. There are other ways you can tell a child or a friend or a parent that they're touching your heart.
"I love you" is the obvious. It never loses impact. I can say "I love you" over and over again and whomever I am speaking to will never get how strong that emotion is raging through me.
When you say, "I'm proud of you," you're usually speaking to your child or someone's child who is important in your life. Most adults don't swap this phrase with each other. I wish we would.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Let the Sunshine In
It is very important to the husband that we make some progress every day. Going through paperwork, sorting through the dungeon and making donations gives him a sense of accomplishment.
This is when I am certain we are a good match -- I would still be dragging the dog pillow from room to room and wallowing in my sadness. He needs action and it is helpful.
So, after countless hours, we have reorganized the father-in-law's things. We have sorted through most of the Belle's things. We've restored that bedroom and bathroom (it's still Hangdog's but it's also our guest room) to something other than a dungeon.
The draperies have been closed for more than two years. As a final touch, we opened the curtains and let a little sunshine in through the sheers.
It added some sun through the tears too.
This is when I am certain we are a good match -- I would still be dragging the dog pillow from room to room and wallowing in my sadness. He needs action and it is helpful.
So, after countless hours, we have reorganized the father-in-law's things. We have sorted through most of the Belle's things. We've restored that bedroom and bathroom (it's still Hangdog's but it's also our guest room) to something other than a dungeon.
The draperies have been closed for more than two years. As a final touch, we opened the curtains and let a little sunshine in through the sheers.
It added some sun through the tears too.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Painful Packing
Packing is usually fun for me. I'm going on a trip! (Cross check and call forward!)
Today is a different kind of packing. We're taking small bites of clearing out the Belle's things. It's awful.
It's an oldies thing but every single thing seems to be wrapped in plastic or tissues or both. Plus, she was a stasher, so you might find receipts or a strand of pearls in any given pocket or handbag. Then on come the emotions. I remember the last time she wore that. I remember how many compliments she received on that outfit. A couple of times the husband said, "This is nice, you might like this." My response was, "It's mine. I loaned it to her."
She was the Anti-Sheri. I hate shopping. Shopping was a huge adventure to her. We are giving away glorious clothes and multiple things.
My friend, Big Sal, is out of town. If she were here, she would be checking out the Goodwill. She's the ultimate bargain hunter. I had a dream last night about Big Sal walking into my kitchen saying, "Look what I found." Of course, it would be something that used to belong to the Belle.
Today is a different kind of packing. We're taking small bites of clearing out the Belle's things. It's awful.
It's an oldies thing but every single thing seems to be wrapped in plastic or tissues or both. Plus, she was a stasher, so you might find receipts or a strand of pearls in any given pocket or handbag. Then on come the emotions. I remember the last time she wore that. I remember how many compliments she received on that outfit. A couple of times the husband said, "This is nice, you might like this." My response was, "It's mine. I loaned it to her."
She was the Anti-Sheri. I hate shopping. Shopping was a huge adventure to her. We are giving away glorious clothes and multiple things.
My friend, Big Sal, is out of town. If she were here, she would be checking out the Goodwill. She's the ultimate bargain hunter. I had a dream last night about Big Sal walking into my kitchen saying, "Look what I found." Of course, it would be something that used to belong to the Belle.
Car Dates
In my childhood household, the rule was I had to be 16-years old before I could car date with a boy. My parents allowed me to fudge it a bit once or twice.
Last night I had a car date. The husband had a new CD that a friend burned for him. Lots of his favorites and songs that hold special meaning to him. Instead of bringing it in the house, he wanted to sit in his car and share it with me.
We (Gabby-the-dog and me) shared the passenger seat. The husband went through every single song and explained why he loved it. Yes, we sat in his car, in our garage for the entire CD.
When we finally came back in the house, he bounced between my iPod (Where is it? Bring that speaker system out here!) and the piano. The dog got her squeaky ball and played along. He pretends he doesn't like her but he kept telling her she was off key. When I offered to put her to bed, he said, "Leave her alone, she is fine."
As usual, we played our little competition games. Which artist is this? Can you name the year? What is the song really about?
Certain rules were instilled in me as a child. I'm sure my parents were terrified that a boy and a girl, alone in a car, was a recipe for disaster.
Last night, there was a man, a woman and a dog alone in a car. It wasn't disastrous; it was fun.
Last night I had a car date. The husband had a new CD that a friend burned for him. Lots of his favorites and songs that hold special meaning to him. Instead of bringing it in the house, he wanted to sit in his car and share it with me.
We (Gabby-the-dog and me) shared the passenger seat. The husband went through every single song and explained why he loved it. Yes, we sat in his car, in our garage for the entire CD.
When we finally came back in the house, he bounced between my iPod (Where is it? Bring that speaker system out here!) and the piano. The dog got her squeaky ball and played along. He pretends he doesn't like her but he kept telling her she was off key. When I offered to put her to bed, he said, "Leave her alone, she is fine."
As usual, we played our little competition games. Which artist is this? Can you name the year? What is the song really about?
Certain rules were instilled in me as a child. I'm sure my parents were terrified that a boy and a girl, alone in a car, was a recipe for disaster.
Last night, there was a man, a woman and a dog alone in a car. It wasn't disastrous; it was fun.
Friday, February 1, 2008
The Must Call List
Remember when we all signed up for the "Do Not Call" list? Anything to stop those pesky telemarketing calls. For the most part, it worked.
We all have a "Must Call" list. It may be to share great joy; it might be a potential tragedy. It might not be an actual phone call -- maybe it's an email or some other form of communication. But, it's a must do.
There's comfort in sharing, whether it's joy or grief.
We all have a "Must Call" list. It may be to share great joy; it might be a potential tragedy. It might not be an actual phone call -- maybe it's an email or some other form of communication. But, it's a must do.
There's comfort in sharing, whether it's joy or grief.
He's Got My Number
Hangdog is being transported from one hospital, where he checked out ok, to the VA hospital for the necessary evaluation before he can go back to the Home.
I answered the phone a few minutes ago and it was an EMT, traveling with my father-in-law in an ambulance. Pop needed to talk to me. The EMT is probably taking an oxygen moment. Good plan.
A while ago, I made these big flash cards for him with phone numbers. I forgot the engineering mind and the memory ability.
Meanwhile, the husband is pacing the VA facility. I've let him know that his father is safe and on the way.
The doctors call our home, our various cell phones, etc. We are well informed. Pop has memorized a couple of numbers. Unless he's hampered by a medical situation, I know the numbers he will call.
I answered the phone a few minutes ago and it was an EMT, traveling with my father-in-law in an ambulance. Pop needed to talk to me. The EMT is probably taking an oxygen moment. Good plan.
A while ago, I made these big flash cards for him with phone numbers. I forgot the engineering mind and the memory ability.
Meanwhile, the husband is pacing the VA facility. I've let him know that his father is safe and on the way.
The doctors call our home, our various cell phones, etc. We are well informed. Pop has memorized a couple of numbers. Unless he's hampered by a medical situation, I know the numbers he will call.
Dying of a Broken Heart
Growing up in the neighborhood, there was the cutest old couple. Mr. and Mrs. Fox kept their lawn and home immaculate. They were extremely kind to each other and all of us. They put up with the neighborhood kids and genuinely seemed to like us. She was the epitome of the grandmotherly image -- handing out cookies and compliments. They died within a few days of each other.
My own maternal grandparents, who claimed ultimate disdain for each other, had a surreal fascination with the other. They died within a few days of each other.
I know many people who have lost a spouse, grieved, picked up the pieces and found joy again. I've witnessed many people who cannot do it. Is it sheer will for those who find the strength? Is it weakness or simply dying of a broken heart for those who cannot?
We were informed this morning that Hangdog is being transported from the Home to the hospital. His blood pressure is too low and his pulse is too high. Deja Vu. I know this road. I've traveled it before.
My own maternal grandparents, who claimed ultimate disdain for each other, had a surreal fascination with the other. They died within a few days of each other.
I know many people who have lost a spouse, grieved, picked up the pieces and found joy again. I've witnessed many people who cannot do it. Is it sheer will for those who find the strength? Is it weakness or simply dying of a broken heart for those who cannot?
We were informed this morning that Hangdog is being transported from the Home to the hospital. His blood pressure is too low and his pulse is too high. Deja Vu. I know this road. I've traveled it before.
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