It's Been A Tough Week

          A week ago yesterday mom

was discharged from the hospital

A week ago yesterday I

drove her home – her actual house. 

She wanted me to take her

to the one in her mind.

A week ago yesterday I drove

her to my house where we waited

for Nate (my nephew) to come

get her and take her

to her real home. 

A week ago she was

still distorted and not

satisfied with where she was.

A week ago today my

brother Patrick and his son-in-law

Nate moved some of mom’s furniture. 

A week ago today my sister-in-law

Sunny and our friend Becky

helped pack clothes.

A week ago today

unbeknownst to my mom,

she spent her last day

in the house where she started

a new life with dad and raised all

four of her children.

A week ago today my

sister Kayla took my mom

to the doctor. 

A week ago today, Patrick and

Sunny and their daughter Ellen

rearranged mom’s furniture and

decorated her walls.  

A week ago today Kayla drove mom

from the doctor’s office to what

appears to be her permanent home. 

A week ago today (well tonight) mom

spent her first night in

the assisted living community.

A week ago tomorrow my

brother Corey arrived at Salt Lake airport.

A week ago tomorrow Sunny picked

him up from the airport and

drove him to the house where

he had been raised. 

A week ago tomorrow my

mother received visits from each

of her kids and some

of the grandchildren.

A week ago today mom expressed

to each of us that she didn’t/doesn’t

want to stay and for her desire for

each of us to take her home.

There are photos taped around

the mirror. Mom had taped them

there herself.  They are her photos. She

has fond memories of each one –

perhaps some more than others.  Some

of them have been removed. She has

taken them off the mirror and put

them into her purse so that she will

have them when she gets to leave –

and return to the house that exists in

her mind but doesn’t

have an address for.  

Yesterday Corey cancelled his
flight and rented a truck

Today he'll pick up the truck and
fill it with things  that are his as
well as my moms.

Tomorrow he will drive
back to Las Vegas

                                      kfralc

To Everything There is a Season

          For the first time I recently watched “The Odd Life of Timothy Green” – I’m certain it was involved with a lot more symbolism than what I saw.  Timothy came to his mom and dad in the spring and had to leave when the last leaf fell in the fall. 

          I was crying hard as the show came to an end – nothing to do with Timothy Green or his departure or anything to do with the movie at all.  Just reminiscing the long fall that was present during the last five months of 2012 – symbolizing the same fall as my mother and each of us seemed to be going through with her. Her leaves were falling more rapidly each day – and then came the harsh winds of winter. And it’s been cold.  Bitter cold.

          She will never return to spring again.  Not in this life anyway.  The only way she can have spring again is if daddy returns for her.  That may be a long time from now.

          I had no idea that the 8^th would be her last good day.  Our last day as Lucy and Ethel.  She seemed almost comatose after that.  And had passed out at least three times.  And then she was hospitalized. And when I brought her home, she wouldn’t accept it.  I don’t think it would have mattered where I had taken her.  She wouldn’t have wanted to stay.  She certainly doesn’t want to be in the memory care unit that Kayla drove her to. Where she needs to be.

          She sits in the community like a child starting his first day of kindergarten – willing to participate as long as at least one family member is in sight.  Panic sets whenever that family member has left – or so the child believes.

          She doesn’t understand that we’ve moved her in there for her own good – for protection as well as consistency.  She’s safe. She’s not alone.  But somehow – even if she does accept it, she doesn’t retain for even a full minute.

          George and Peggy Bird came to visit mom while Jenna and I were still with her.  I took it as an opportunity to slip out without mom being irate or hurt over it.  Peggy asked if she had had any other visitors.  Mom said no.  Even though Jenna and I were probably still just in the parking lot.

          I think I may be in the fall of my life right now.  I think these winter storms may have pushed me into fall ahead of schedule.  I hope it’s a long fall and that my leaves shine brilliant colors for a long while before the winds set in.  And hopefully my children won’t have to watch me experience the harshness of winter but may enjoy the peace of the falling snow. 

          If I could lose just one ounce per tear – just an ounce – I would have disappeared by now.  I don’t wish to cry anymore.  Lucy wants more time with Ethel – the way it was.

          Today is Kayla’s birthday.  She’s just started the summer of her life.  It looks like it will be summer for a while.  Happy Birthday, Kayla!

The Power of Music

          Paul Cardall must have been 15 at the time he had worked at the ice cream store. They didn’t hire younger than high school.  But he seemed to have such a junior high awkwardness about him.  But he may have lacked in social skills because of his heart and hospitalization and being in and out of the doctors all of the time.  But I don’t know.  I didn’t really have a whole lot of interaction with him.  I’m sure our difference in age and maturity contributed to that.

          Whenever Paul had been assigned to dishes and was able to listen to music – his music – some wholesome music even – the twerpy kid would disappear and he would actually turn into a regular human being.

          Corey said he had had some nice conversations with Paul regarding music.  I would have never dreamed that he would one day perform his music and record albums and become a name in many households.   

          I don’t know where he had been performing when Sunny had taken my mom to see it.  Mom tells it a little differently each time.  But one thing’s for certain – he did request for my mom to come stand by him on the stage as his picture was being taken by various people.

          Mom still has it on the mirror in her new room at assisted living.  And she can tell you about why she has it and how surprised she had been.  But she knew Paul from the ice cream store.  We all did.  Apparently some of us better than others.

          Today there was a program at the community where mom now lives.  Some of my family members were there when we arrived.  We took her by the hand and forced her to sit down. 

          “What’s going on?” she asked.

          “We are listening to someone who is playing the piano.  But it’s not Paul Cardall.”

          She related the story again.  This time she hadn’t known anyone else in the room.  Nor did he.

          In my entire life I had never seen the enthusiasm that mom displayed today – for the first seven or eight songs anyway.  Seems in the past she has always tuned music out so it wasn’t even a background sound.  But today she sang along with the player.  It was so awesome to see that – until Roland got up to escort Jenna out of the building and then panic set in.  She stood up to once again ask why she was there and why none of us would be taking her home.  But for a brief moment there was a vibrant thrill that had been awakened with mom.  And it was great to see her enjoying herself and singing along.

          Jenna had also chimed in with the few songs that she knew.  I love listening to my daughter singing.  She was singing with MercyMe in the car.  I wasn’t aware that she had even known the words to the song.  And I loved that she is so in tune and focused on the music that I like.

          Music can change our mood.  It can uplift our spirits and rejuvenate the soul.  It can also bring us down when dark tunes and lyrics are played.  I prefer being uplifted and invigorated.

          I love that we have so many varieties of music and how it is a language that each of us can understand.