Tag Archives: Family

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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Uncategorized

She Struggles to the Other Side

Her breathing has become shallow and each breath is labored.  We watch and pray and cry.  For several years we have watched the decline and we have worried about this day and now it is here.  Every hour finds one of us walking into the bedroom and silently watching over her.

Yesterday several of her friends came over to say their good-byes.  She is unaware on so many levels and (we are all hoping) so aware on the most important level of all.  We all hope that our love is able to penetrate the fog that has enveloped her consciousness.  There are tears to be shared all around and then hugs and just all the love that develops when a group of people have decided to call each other ‘family’.

We know that it has been over a year now that she forgot the boys, her deepest memories…all gone now.  It has been even longer than that since she could remember who I was but then, I am the newbie, I have only been in the family for 22 years.  I am OK with that, it has given me the distance to be able to help him watch his mother decline without being an emotional mess myself.

The grandkids all know and they are making visits as they can.  The great-grandkids never had much chance to get to know her like everyone else did.  By the time most of them were born she was already a stranger.  That part makes me sad for the kids.  They will only have our memories to go by now.  Pictures will be important to some and not so important to others.

We, my husband and I, have been crying each day for two weeks now.  We are not done crying yet.  Once we are done with our own tears there will be tears for the rest of the family and the friends who have meant so much to us (and her) in the last year who will all grieve like she was their grandmother too.  We will hug them and smile with them and carry a big box of tissue to help wipe away the tears.

I write today to take the place of some of the tears.  I face my own fears and shortcomings as a daughter-in-law now at the end of her life.  I sit and reflect on our years together and I laugh out loud at some of the arguments and jokes we shared.  I let the tears roll gently down my cheeks as I come to terms with her end here and her new beginning “over there”. 

Our buddy came in last night with his family to sing her some songs to help ease her spirit and to let her know that we are all OK and that she could leave anytime she was ready…not that we are rushing her…everyone just hates to see her hurting.  I stood there crying, listening to the soft beat of the drum and the soothing sound of his voice.  I know that she heard him too.

My husband asked me months ago if the Alzheimer’s  would kill her.  I told him ‘No. her body would give out long before the disease had time to run it’s course’.  That is what we see now…her little body getting tired of fighting.  That is the part we cannot help her with.  All our coaxing and all our prayers cannot give her more strength if she is too tired to fight anymore.  All we can do now is watch her go peacefully with our love to ferry her on.

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Family, Life, Me

Surviving America

Ok, so I survived another holiday weekend. Oh I know that technically the holiday happened during the week but it was close enough that many people tacked on the weekend as well. There were numerous office populated with the dreaded skeleton crew. Some of us who ended up working while others were off playing. Yes, I was one of those who worked on Friday…but it was nice so I did not mind. On the plus side there were not nearly as many emails as I normally would have to read during the weekend.

I accidently started a family tradition years ago and now the 4th of July is my daughters very favorite holiday. I always found this highly unlikely because I do not know ANY kid who picks July over Christmas but I have come to accept over the years that she really does like the 4th of July more than Christmas!

When my baby was young I started taking her to fireworks displays in town, the big ones. We had two big displays in Fort Wayne each year. The first was at the traditional end of the Three Rivers Festival and, of course, the 4th of July show. She named each of the fireworks big booms by the sounds that accompanied the flashes. I was not a fan of the backyard do-it-yourself shows put on by the dads and granddads. Oh not that they were not fun for the kids (and yes, that is supposed to be the target audience) but it was not so much fun for me.

These shows became such a thrill for my daughter that even after her father and I were no longer married she still insisted on going and by then it had become his tradition as well. I liked that for her. Some years we would meet up during the show and some years it was my turn to take her. She was just happy to be out and looking up into the night sky those hot summer nights.

Over the years I have found myself sitting on some grassy knoll waiting for the sun to set and the show to begin. I have noticed that, over all, the fireworks have not changed so much. Probably safer for the pyro techs and computers have made some of the shows interesting with music blaring along with each big bang but essentially, they are unchanged and I think that this is one of things I like the best.

These days I am heading out to find “my spot” alone. My husband does not find the excitement that I find in a good old firework show. But I am never lonely. I chat with my camped out neighbors and we share snacks and drinks from time to time. I meet new people who have also found what a nice spot we have all discovered. There are always the new people in town who did not realize that our little town offers such a great show.

This year I sat with my girlfriend and her son as well as several other friends. She is an Ojibwa woman. We were quite the sight, two full-blooded Native women sitting in the grass in our camping chairs eating snacks and drinking pop waiting on a celebration we aren’t so sure about but we like the fireworks. We laugh at the irony and we clap at the really cool displays. Her son heads out to scout the crowd and see who is around, not that he knows anyone, he is one of those guys who finds a new friend everywhere he goes. He comes back exited that he found a Di’ne woman sitting on the hill. We are three now. Native women who sit in the crowd celebrating the birth of America, who would have thought?

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death, Family, Life

As Night Begins to Fall

Her teeth are sitting in the plastic cup beside her bed. Her one good eye is open but unfocused.   She will respond to a silly nickname spoken in love and it doesn’t have to be the same nickname twice; it is the love in your voice she hears and it is the love she responds to, then she is gone again.

The doctor gives her a good prognosis, providing she can survive the surgery. Her mind is not what it used to be, her body is frail despite a good constitution. We kissed her and loved on her and let the tears fall after they wheeled her out of the room.

He remembers walking home for lunch in grade school. She was never a good cook but she was smart enough to know that her little boy thought it was a grand treat to have biscuits with jelly for lunch….

Prayers are for “what ever the Creator has for her”…nothing more.  Now we wait.

He remembers the weekend he decided to run away…out of state to an outdoor rock concert.  He still laughs when he tells the story about how she made his father drive to Michigan to find him…needle in a haystack.  He went home after the concert…she was so angry but happy to have him home.

The minutes tick by, friends come out to sit with us.  It wasn’t too long ago that we sat in the same waiting room with those same friends for that friends’ mother…I guess turnabout is fair play after all.  There are smiles and jokes all around.

I update all the facebook family while we have time.

Time; this is when it runs at its’ slowest…waiting for news…good or bad.  It was only an hour and a half but I swear it felt like six.  I was thinking that I should have brought a hoodie or something, it is 95 degrees outside and cold in the waiting room.  Why is it always cold in the waiting rooms?

The nurse finally calls her name so that family will know.  A quick glance into her eyes tell us much and for the first time since we sat down our shoulders relax and we look into each others eyes, eyebrows raised to ask “good news?”.    He is a good surgeon they say, so we head to the next room to await our consultation.

She won’t remember anything, not the pain, not the hospital food, not the nurses names or faces, not the gentle hands of the surgeons.  We will, we will remember prayers answered and sighs breathed out and a bracing for the next phase of her life…however long that may be….

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Family, Life

Surprise for the Surpriser

My daughter came to visit this weekend.  It was a big weekend for her.  Her husband decided to surprise her with a visit to our house to celebrate the beginning of their 5th year of marriage.  I thought it was wonderful that he thinks this way.  She and I are very close, even when they lived in Arizona we talked on the phone at least 5 times each week.  She only lives 3 hours away these days but with her job and mine we don’t have a lot of time to make the drive.

Additionally, she is pregnant.  She doesn’t travel far without getting sick so instead of taking her away for a nice weekend he opted to stay close and make her not have to deal with not enjoying a wonderful weekend away because she is running to the bathroom constantly.  Sometimes he really surprises me with his kindness.  Personally I would expect a husband and new father-to-be to think just like that and it might be sad that I am surprised.

Finally, it was the dogs’ (hers) second birthday and they are the typical “we don’t have any kids yet so we treat our dogs like that are our children” kind of people.  So they stopped at the gourmet dog store and bought 5 cupcakes for the dogs to celebrate a birthday…one for each of their dogs, one for my dog and one for each of the neighbors dogs…it was a happy celebration.

The only problem with the whole weekend is that it was a surprise so I was not home most of the weekend.  I am a typical “don’t have anyone at home who needs me so I think I will pack my weekend with things I want to do” kind of Granny.  I didn’t get home until almost 9pm on Friday, they pulled in at 10pm.  We visited for two hours then everyone crashed.  I was up at 6:30am to get ready for a multi-family yard sale I had been planning with my girlfriends for two months.  I was gone from the house by 8am.  The kids had to come see me at the yard sale.  I got home after 7pm and had to leave for another commitment and finally got home at 10pm.  They left today by 11am.  I think next time my son-in-law decides to surprise us with a family visit he should call and make sure that the family is going to be around.  She did come in with two bags of laundry (her machine is broken and the new one isn’t due until next weekend) so I am happy she could keep herself busy while I was gone.  I would have liked to have sent her to the grocery store for me while I was stuck at the yard sale but with her morning sickness she isn’t good for tasks that required plenty of time between bathroom stops.  It is an old habit we developed since she moved out at age 17, when she would visit and I was busy I just handed her my grocery list and she did that laborious task for me while I was otherwise occupied.

My husband was home all weekend, he is not a yard sale kind of guy, so he was able to have a wonderful visit with the kids.  I am very happy about that…they even had a cook-out, sorry I missed it.  He is still getting used to his baby getting ready to have her own baby.

Now it is Sunday, the kids have left.  My dog and I are finally sitting down to rest for a minute and my husband has volunteered to head to the grocery store.  I am surprised….again!

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Family, Life, Me

Bullfrogs and Butterflies don’t have a problem with it…

I was thinking about change today.  I spent some time remembering when I turned 14 and I was anxiously waiting to morph from a child to a young woman.  I remember putting on my wedding dress, morphing from a single woman to a married woman.  I remember laying on the exam table at the doctor listening to my baby’s heartbeat for the first time, morphing yet again.  There have been so many changes.

My mother, God rest her soul, could not wait to announce to the whole world when I put on my first bra.  I was mortified, she was so proud.  Years later I did the same thing to my own daughter, this time I laughed…at her and at myself.  I got it, finally.

In this world where I choose to live, the non-native world, change is feared.  Change is not taught as a good thing.  Women are lamenting the loss of something that was never meant to be static.  Change is supposed to happen.  My mother celebrated my changing, each and every step, and while I was usually horrified at her for doing so I had to become a mother myself to see what she was so happy about.  When change is happening without regard to scheduling or weather or fashion then life is unfolding as it should.

I am changing yet again….no longer a women who has children at home.  The non-native world might say I was an empty-nester, the traditional world just sees this as part of the grand scheme, normal and worth celebrating.  My body continues to change.  It has been a little strange only in the sense that it has been a long time since I have had to experience major physical changes.  But I have to admit, I am excited and happy about what comes next.  I will celebrate this change even though my own mother is no longer here to celebrate with me.  Even that, time for her to return to her true home, was a celebration for me.  It was, after all, what she taught me was supposed to happen.

These are the things that I taught my own daughter and I trust she will pass them down to her own children when the time comes, our traditions being mostly oral.  I am comfortable with the knowledge that my mother did not waste her time or energy celebrating the changes in my life and that I have not wasted my time or energy either as I celebrated my daughter’s changing life.

I am excited about what new adventures await me as my, yet again, changed life unfolds.

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