Tag Archives: children

Contemplation, Family, journaling, Life, lifecoaching, Me, meditaton, Native American Women, Writing

The Day I Started Taking Over the World

 

It was a long time ago, this story’s beginning.  A child was trying to be born.  Her mother, just a child herself, a little bitty sprite of woman.  Still three months shy of her 17th birthday, not 100 lbs., tiny, bound and determined to be someone’s mother.  Her small size was causing major havoc on her body this day.

The things that she should have known, she did not.  The things to do, what to expect when going through your first child birth, the danger signs, what to tell your doctor…all of this she was not aware of, not because she was incapable, but because she was alone.  Raised by her grandmother, mom left when she was very young.  Pregnant on purpose, because if she was pregnant, they had to let her get married.  A husband who was about 5 minutes older than she.  You might say, she was an angry young person to do all of the things her father and grandmother told her not to do, and you would be correct.  Nevertheless, here she was, in labor with her first child.

Now it was time.  While modern as hell, it was 1962, and the things they know now, were not the things they knew then.  They pumped a lot of drugs into that tiny body as she was ready to give birth.  Her labor was long and hard.  When the child finally emerged, she was blue, lifeless.  Fetal monitors not what they are these days, I can’t tell you whether the medical staff expected this or not.  But the young woman had now gone into seizure immediately after the birth and it took the concentrated effort of the entire medical team to save her life.  The stillborn child was placed on a cold table next to the gurney and forgotten as they worked to keep the little bitty woman alive.

Minutes pass, the mother-to-be will survive.  As the doctor and his nurses continue to stabilize her, for no reason anyone can name, that little blue baby begins to wail.  She announces her presence like it is no ones business.  Everyone turns in surprise, maybe even awe.  Not expected, not expected at all.

Flash forward, 56 years later…no matter how I have lived my life in the past, I think about how I began in this life.  No, I don’t remember it, this is the story that my mother told me, more than once.  No matter what kind of decisions I made in the past, I make them now with this story in my heart.  I still do this to people, still, for no reason anyone can name, announce my presence…and yes, sometimes with a wail.

What do you say to a person who started out like that?  What do you expect from someone who decided to live even when others thought she would not?  I asked this of myself, more than you think.  I continue to answer myself every day.

 

 

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Contemplation, death, Family, Life, Me, Native American Women

Rock and Roll Payday Memories

I spent the day on the road. Total miles logged was 230. When you spend that much time alone you have a tendency to think about things that normally you do have time to think about. Today I spent my time thinking about my parents. There are just certain things that trigger memories and then when I am driving I have time to let those thoughts keep running.

My mother died 3 years ago. Her passing was not easy. She was ill and she had suffered a heart attack. She lingered for two weeks in a hospital that was far from her home. She was not alone, one of her daughters and her husband were there with her. My father died several years prior to her passing. His passing was not easy. He suffered complications of diabetes after a surgery. He was not alone, two of his daughters, his sisters and several of his nieces and nephews were there when he passed.

I think of this and I am glad to have been an intimate part of that passing. I wish that I had been able to be there for my mother as well but I am glad that the same sister who stood with me while my father passed, stood by my mothers’ side as well. I can think of no greater expression of love than to be present at the passing of a loved one. To hold that hand and to say “I love you” or “thank you” or whatever is on your mind to say at that last moment.

The first thing I do is to plug in the ipod and cue up Janis Joplin. I play the entire uploaded album as loud as my factory installed speakers will allow while singing along with Janis and I smile because she was one of my mother’s favorite musicians. The I look for a convenience store, any one will do as long as they sell Payday candy bars. I buy the biggest one I can find and I eat the whole candy bar, savoring every bite and I smile because this was my dad’s favorite candy bar.

While I complete these little rituals I have established for myself I wonder about my parents. I wonder where they are? I wonder what important works they are working on these days? I wonder which of their heathen children they are watching closely today?

I hear so many people lament over the loss of a loved one that spend so much of their lives espousing their belief in a Creator and an afterlife that promises to be so much better than this life we live on this world but when push comes to shove…what they actually believe is far from what they have espoused. The absolute lack of faith explains so much to me.

For me, blaring Janis Joplin and wolfing down a Payday candy bar are the traditions that I hope I am passing down to my own daughter who someday will face these things. Someday she will think of me. I trust that she will just play the music she knows I love and eat a candy bar that was my favorite and smiles knowing that my new adventure has begun. I hope she wonders what I am up to and I trust she knows that I am having a blast.

She will then take everything that I have given her and pass those things on to her daughter and that makes me so happy. I know deep in my heart that my parents are happy about this as well, whatever they are doing today.

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Uncategorized

My Little Christmas Miracle

There are no presents under my Christmas tree.  Is it wrong that I don’t feel bad about that?  My children are all grown and they are busy making babies of their own. Their Christmas trees have piles of gifts festivally wrapped and labeled.

Instead of heading out to the crazy malls and instead of sharing all my personal information with the world via online shoppings for each and every child and grandchild I opted for a family gift for each family. I should clarify, each family with children.  I do have one child that has yet to start her family and she is getting a nice Christmas card with lots of hugs and kisses enclosed.

I was two weeks late putting up my tree and up until 10pm that night I wasn’t so sure that I would bother with it at all.  I have yet to get the outside lights from the box in the garage that normally flicker deep into the night.

Oh, I could blame work, I could blame a desperate personal financial crisis but I won’t.  When I was 18 my little sisters sat me down one day and told me that they did not need me anymore.  They thanked me for raising them and teaching them the things big sisters are supposed to.  Apparently, I had done my job and now my job was done.  I sat in shock for several minutes, I cried for several more (unseen by my little sisters), I began a prayer that I have yet to finish…a thankful prayer.  Not by choice was I the big sister of six siblings but it was my position and I did my best.  Now it was finally my time.  Now I could begin and end a day without the burden of taking care of all those siblings.

This is where I am again.  I love Christmas, the lights, the traditional tv shows, the presents, the foods, the giving and the getting.  It just dawned on me this year that my children don’t need me anymore to create that Christmas magic for them…they are busy creating Christmas magic for their own.  For a minute I was in shock and for a minute more I cried, and now I continue the prayer I started all those years ago…that same prayer of thanksgiving.  I am thankful that my children are happy and doing for their own children what I tried to do for them for so many years.

This year I am working on creating a new Christmas magic that is not so stressful and not so expensive.

This year the lights on the tree are for me.

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Contemplation, Life, Me, Native American Women

Skeins of Life

I wish that crocheting really was relaxing. I sit down with a skein of yarn and I dream of big things…pretty things…useful things. Truth be told, I know one stitch. The “granny square”. It’s a cool stitch to be sure but there are times when I would like to crochet a different pattern.

Rather than lament about my inability I will be glad that I can work that granny square into some pretty awesome afghans given all the modern colors they can do yarn in these days.

I listen to other women talk about how relaxing it is to sit and crochet. It is not so for me. I don’t know why but I attack the yarn, crochet hook in hand, with that same attitude I attack most projects I get involved in….keep going until it is done. My shoulders are a bunched mess of muscle, my fingers ache from holding the crochet hook in one hand that the yarn in the other. My eyes burn from keeping careful watch on the number of stitches I am whipping up as I go.

I took up some old broken tile that needs to be replaced to day, I walked two miles, I cooked three meals, I folded some canvas tarps that needed to be folded (those suckers are heavy) and I did dishes that equaled the cooking I did. After all of these chores were done I could finally sit down and had a chance to relax….but nooOOOooo.

Why do I crochet then? Good question. I like the yarn. I feel the challenge calling after I have taken a skein and rolled it into a ball. Giant-ass ball of yarn staring at me, daring me to make it into something.

I think all of my kids have afghans now, probably most of my grandkids and both of my dogs. I don’t know who needs this afghan but it will be here when the new owner walks into my house. I will feel good when it is done. I will know that I met the challenge thrown out to me. I will have used my talents to the best of my ability…limited as they are. It’s a granny thing, I hear……the making of afghans.

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death, Family, Life, Me

Been a Slow Day

Yeah, I’m lying. My days are never slow. It just seemed that when it comes to writing I have been procrastinating and since I don’t admit to being a procrastinator I decided to say it has been slow.

I had been thinking that we had to take time out of regular life to bury my mother-in-law. She lost her fight with Alzheimer’s. But I realized that I was thinking wrong…taking the time to bury a loved one is part of regular life. It is no different than when a new life comes into the family.

We moved her into our home a year ago, when it became just way too expensive to have her continue to live in an assisted living home. My husband quit his job to stay home and take care of her.

Our lives are busy, have been busy for many years now. Our children are all grown and gone which left us plenty of time to do other things. The busyness did not slow down once she moved in. We had to rearrange who did what when but we continued to stay busy.

Several friends offered to help us during these months so that we did not just unplug from life. They would come over and sit with us and they would send us out to dinner while they sat with her to make sure that she stayed safe. Our friends were and continue to be wonderful blessings in our lives.

Then the fateful day was approaching and we had hospice come in to help us out with those final details. We called all of those friends who had spent so much time with us. We wanted to make sure that they had to opportunity to say goodbye. They had taken the time to become her family and they deserved the chance to be there in the end…if they so desired.

She passed and we started the process of fulfilling her last wishes. One of the friends come over one morning for coffee and she sat in tears thanking me for allowing her to be part of the entire process. She had been sheltered her entire life from death and she did not know what it felt like to say goodbye to a loved one in such a beautiful way. She and her (then) fiancé came into the process with us. They are married now and begin their lives as a family with this beautiful experience. I am happy to have had the opportunity to share.

I am constantly amazed at the people that I know who claim to be spiritual in their everyday life and when something like this happens they fall apart, not only falling apart but getting angry at God for the loss. I don’t get it. How do you profess to believe in such things as an afterlife and then get angry at God when a loved one gets to go home?

My children, my husband, my brother-in-law, myself…all sad to be sure…but also all very happy that Mom-Grandma was no longer suffering, no longer not knowing who her family is, no longer being alone. She is surrounded now by complete, total, eternal love. I cannot be anything but happy about that…happy for her. We will miss her, we already miss her. We both walk into the bedroom looking for her, still….

We had the traditional burial, her wishes fulfilled. We notified all the family we could of her passing. Now we prepare for her Memorial. This one is for those beautiful friends who gave their hearts to her, claimed her as their own Grandmother for a short time. We will share those stories that we dared not share at the funeral home (she cussed a lot) and we will eat…holy smokes she loved to eat and we will do so in her honor!

And now I have taken the time to sit and write this final chapter in our adventures with her. Now I can stop procrastinating about writing and just get on with my life. I did so without tears (progress).

Who knows? There may be more to write about later, depends on what stories are shared this weekend.

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getting in shape, Life, Me, Uncategorized

The Battle Continues

OK…so now it has been two weeks since I started planning to run again.  I can honestly say that my planning is going quite well.  I have not, however, bothered to hit the road yet.  I did find my running shoes.  I was examining them to ensure that they were fit to carry me again and discovered that a flying squirrel had decided at some point that they made perfect storage units for stolen dog food.

I have also continued to work on quitting smoking.  I have not quit yet but I am beginning to not like smoking.  I think that is a great step that needed to be taken.  At least this time around planning to quit does not involve hiding cigarettes for later (for emergencies).  Another positive step.

I have been looking into a couple of apps for my phone to help me motivate and decided that it was much more trouble than I was willing to tackle, not that downloading apps is an issue but relying on them for each run just seems to be a lot of trouble.  I started reading a book about running and bought myself an ipod-holder-thingy so that I can take my tunes with me.  My next goal is to find my ear buds so I can listen to those tunes.  Could I buy a new set?  Yes, but I know I have some around her somewhere and I might possibly lose my procrastination license if I do not spend at least a week looking around the house for them.

Our oldest child came down with his family to spend some time during Father’s Day weekend.  He has managed to run the mini in Indianapolis for the last two years.  I took some time to talk with him about motivation and running routines.  He is younger than I but only by 13 years (yeah, I married an old guy the second time around) so I still have this image of myself being able to run.  He agrees and I feel much encouraged by his confidence in me.

I am dealing with some guilt and I am dealing with some fear.  Knowing that I can run and that I should run keep the gears turning in my head.  Managing my schedule to open some time is the obstacle I face today.

“You have time to sit and write….what’s the hold up?”  Good question, I wish I could say that I had a good answer.  I will use work as an excuse for now and keep on working on getting my feet on the pavement again.

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