When I went to pick up the old lady for her doctor appointment today, the old man was dressed in his going to the clinic outfit. It is a dark velour tracksuit that he goes commando under. I told him it wasn't his appointment but he decided to go with us anyway. As luck would have it, he got to be seen for his itchy back too. "See? You don't know everything!" It is true they've written libraries about things I don't know.
Trying to give the old lady regular assessment tests is difficult. She is legally blind and only has peripheral vision, plus she is a functional illiterate. So spelling tests are always interesting. They asked her to count backwards from 100 by 7. My gosh, can you? Well her stress and anxiety level went through the roof. No! Do not give her math. The last time she had these kind of tests she was truly insulted. They asked her to name animals and she could only name a few. This time she was prepared; zebra, tiger, lion, elephant, cow, dog, cat, mouse, snake and whale! Ha ha! They wouldn't fool her again. But she could not remember a list of three words given at the beginning. The clock face she drew showed her poor vision. But the joy of getting things right was intense.
She had some blood drawn and a urinalysis. No infection anywhere. Dr S told us that by age 85 one in three people had Alzheimers, and by her age, 96, it went up to two out of three. Eventually, if you live long enough, you probably will get some form of it. So he felt she was in an early stage. Not to be confused with Early Onset Alzheimer Disease which can strike as young as 35. She does not want to take any medication for it, though. The old man got furious at that. Why not? He feels you should fight at all costs. She feels like when it is time to go, then go.
He, of course, for five years running complained about his back itching. Before we left the house I said it was the same old dry skin and he had two choices, die or itch. Turns out they are going to put him on a tiny bit of prednisone, a steroid. I joked that he didn't have to worry about his balls shrinking (they are almost halfway to his knees these days) and he said it didn't matter if they did shrink, they were no good anyway. Dr S was so funny as he explained those were completely different steroids. He was concerned because the old man is down to 130 pounds. The old lady is thrilled that she is down to 137. They have both shrunk in size and Dr S made her cane shorter which added to her comfort.
Then off to Byerly's for pancakes and eggs. They make their own sausage and his was about five inches long and as fat around as a hot dog. While waiting for him to finish I did some grocery shopping for them. Coca Cola and ice cream, the real essentials of life. When I came back he was yelling at her for not knowing something, to the discomfort of the other patrons. Oy vey is mir.
On the way back to their apartment the old lady commented on what a wonderful day it had been, just like a vacation. She really is losing it.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Be Kind
At Costco I saw an older woman standing behind her car in a handicapped space. She had big boxes in the cart and I asked if she needed a hand getting them into the car. She said no, her husband was coming. And here he came, a great big white haired man leaning heavily on his cane. I realized she still saw him as quite capable. She told him what I asked and said, "Isn't she kind? She is so kind."
What had I done? Nothing, as it turned out because he put their stuff in the back seat. I had only asked, yet she was stunned that someone had stopped to ask. Has kindness gone the way of the horse and buggy? Something to be hauled out and put on parade and put away all other times? Something the old lady says her mother used to say is that it costs no more to be nice.
I am talking beyond nice. Nice is a dime a dozen, nice is the cashier saying have a nice day. Kind isn't always nice. There is a song "Cruel to be Kind". I just listened to it and I'm not sure that I agree with all the sentiments. Nick Lowe sings "You have to be cruel to be kind in the right measure..." and that is true of all kindness; in the right measure. We kindly remove a child from danger even though the child is furious.
It isn't kind if your actions take away another's independence and strokes your own ego. Kindness is in the way you live. There is another word used a lot these days, mindfulness. Being mindful is in essence being kind to ourselves, our family, our community, our world. Being kind is trying to live in way that doesn't intentionally hurt others. Being kind does not mean being a doormat, not at all.
The one thing that attracted me to my husband and his family are their innate kindnesses. It was a wonderful treat to be with people who are kind. They are not saints, and have their own mishegass (Yiddish word meaning quirks and craziness) but are kind, whether opening their home to mother from Chile whose child was in the U of M hospital, to opening their hearts to a Jewish girl from Brooklyn.
Kindness, mindfulness is not a destination. It is the daily journey, with diversions along the way. It is a road to keep coming back to. At the end I want this on my headstone: She tried to be kind.
Let's all try, let's all do. I want kindness to be as ubiquitous as the auto, always there, not a buggy hauled out for a parade.
What had I done? Nothing, as it turned out because he put their stuff in the back seat. I had only asked, yet she was stunned that someone had stopped to ask. Has kindness gone the way of the horse and buggy? Something to be hauled out and put on parade and put away all other times? Something the old lady says her mother used to say is that it costs no more to be nice.
I am talking beyond nice. Nice is a dime a dozen, nice is the cashier saying have a nice day. Kind isn't always nice. There is a song "Cruel to be Kind". I just listened to it and I'm not sure that I agree with all the sentiments. Nick Lowe sings "You have to be cruel to be kind in the right measure..." and that is true of all kindness; in the right measure. We kindly remove a child from danger even though the child is furious.
It isn't kind if your actions take away another's independence and strokes your own ego. Kindness is in the way you live. There is another word used a lot these days, mindfulness. Being mindful is in essence being kind to ourselves, our family, our community, our world. Being kind is trying to live in way that doesn't intentionally hurt others. Being kind does not mean being a doormat, not at all.
The one thing that attracted me to my husband and his family are their innate kindnesses. It was a wonderful treat to be with people who are kind. They are not saints, and have their own mishegass (Yiddish word meaning quirks and craziness) but are kind, whether opening their home to mother from Chile whose child was in the U of M hospital, to opening their hearts to a Jewish girl from Brooklyn.
Kindness, mindfulness is not a destination. It is the daily journey, with diversions along the way. It is a road to keep coming back to. At the end I want this on my headstone: She tried to be kind.
Let's all try, let's all do. I want kindness to be as ubiquitous as the auto, always there, not a buggy hauled out for a parade.
She is losing it
On the way to New Jersey this month, the old lady, 96, kept asking me to tell her what we were doing that evening. After the fifth time I told her that Bob was picking us up and Iris was making dinner I said, "Mom, don't get senile on me now."
My step-mother Harriet is smart without being educated. She memorized the reader before she entered first grade. When called to recite, she was word perfect although she couldn't read. In a class with 60 children she was passed on to the next grade where they found out she couldn't read and put her back. She hated school and left at age fifteen to become a hairdresser. She still does her own hair, although I color it. She has been legally blind for years. She learned to cope by feeling the food she was cooking. And until recently, she could still design and knit or crochet her own clothing. I taught her to read a pattern about 35 years ago and she made the most amazing creations. Even with her awful eyesight she can still do nicer crafts than the other ladies at her building.
One thing that drives us all batty is that she never forgets. She remembers the dress her mother made her for a show when she was in grade school. She remembers something I said at eight years old and she remembers every slight and every compliment ever given. But now she is losing her short term memory and I am wondering how to deal with it.
We went out to a Chez Daniel in the Embassy Suites on Saturday. They make a really wonderful rack of lamb that they enjoy very much. In between the soup and the entree they serve a little ball of sorbet to cleanse the palate. The old lady loves it and finished it in a trice. After our dinner plates were taken away she asked where the ice cream was. I said, "You mean the little scoop of sorbet? We already had it." We talked about it for awhile and then the server brought us chocolate covered strawberries. She asked why we hadn't had the ice cream. I told her we already ate it. I said, "Mom, do you remember we just talked about it?" No, she didn't.
My parents do not sugarcoat reality. In fact the old man scrapes away any sugar that might make life sweeter. I said I was concerned about her memory and I hope it wasn't the beginning of the end. She said she'd had a good run.
The thing about short term memory loss is that it is so very frustrating for the people around it. The one whose memory is failing doesn't remember that she asked that same question or told that same story many times in a short period. It is hard to keep patience with her. I'm not an awfully patient person to begin with and self centered repetition drives me crazy. (As my ex used to say, "And for you it is a very short drive.")
Tomorrow I will call the gerontologist and leave a message. I am not sure whether this is the start of something worse or what but her doctor should know. She is a frail old lady with a grip of iron and a zest for life. If she dies before my old man I will have no choice but to place him in long term care. It won't be long term though. He will fade away without her.
Here is the great Jimmy Durante singing September Song:
"As the days dwindle down to a precious few
September, November, December,
These precious days I'll spend with you"
Updated wonderfully for your enjoyment, the great Lou Reed sings September Song. The picture is of Kurt Weill.
My step-mother Harriet is smart without being educated. She memorized the reader before she entered first grade. When called to recite, she was word perfect although she couldn't read. In a class with 60 children she was passed on to the next grade where they found out she couldn't read and put her back. She hated school and left at age fifteen to become a hairdresser. She still does her own hair, although I color it. She has been legally blind for years. She learned to cope by feeling the food she was cooking. And until recently, she could still design and knit or crochet her own clothing. I taught her to read a pattern about 35 years ago and she made the most amazing creations. Even with her awful eyesight she can still do nicer crafts than the other ladies at her building.
One thing that drives us all batty is that she never forgets. She remembers the dress her mother made her for a show when she was in grade school. She remembers something I said at eight years old and she remembers every slight and every compliment ever given. But now she is losing her short term memory and I am wondering how to deal with it.
We went out to a Chez Daniel in the Embassy Suites on Saturday. They make a really wonderful rack of lamb that they enjoy very much. In between the soup and the entree they serve a little ball of sorbet to cleanse the palate. The old lady loves it and finished it in a trice. After our dinner plates were taken away she asked where the ice cream was. I said, "You mean the little scoop of sorbet? We already had it." We talked about it for awhile and then the server brought us chocolate covered strawberries. She asked why we hadn't had the ice cream. I told her we already ate it. I said, "Mom, do you remember we just talked about it?" No, she didn't.
My parents do not sugarcoat reality. In fact the old man scrapes away any sugar that might make life sweeter. I said I was concerned about her memory and I hope it wasn't the beginning of the end. She said she'd had a good run.
The thing about short term memory loss is that it is so very frustrating for the people around it. The one whose memory is failing doesn't remember that she asked that same question or told that same story many times in a short period. It is hard to keep patience with her. I'm not an awfully patient person to begin with and self centered repetition drives me crazy. (As my ex used to say, "And for you it is a very short drive.")
Tomorrow I will call the gerontologist and leave a message. I am not sure whether this is the start of something worse or what but her doctor should know. She is a frail old lady with a grip of iron and a zest for life. If she dies before my old man I will have no choice but to place him in long term care. It won't be long term though. He will fade away without her.
Here is the great Jimmy Durante singing September Song:
"As the days dwindle down to a precious few
September, November, December,
These precious days I'll spend with you"
Updated wonderfully for your enjoyment, the great Lou Reed sings September Song. The picture is of Kurt Weill.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Just answer the question!
Me: What time do you want me to come over?
Friend: What time do you want to come over?
Me: You are the one making dinner, what time should I come?
Friend: Well what time do you want to come?
Me: You are the one doing the inviting, just tell me what time I should arrive.
Friend: Anytime you want.
Me: What, 5 or 6 or 8?
Friend: How about 5:30?
Me: Fine, see you then.
Why is it so damn hard to get a direct answer to a direct question? Frankly, that is an abridged conversation above. It would have been too boring to have transcribed it if I could have remembered it all. At this point, my stomach is all clenched and I don't even want to go to dinner. Is it just this question? No, of course not. It is that whole way of not communicating.
Please, I beg of you, even if it will hurt my feelings, just answer the question, whether it be big like "Do you want to stay married?" or small like the time to arrive for dinner. Don't make me work for the answer. I just can't play that game, not ten years ago and not now.
Friend: What time do you want to come over?
Me: You are the one making dinner, what time should I come?
Friend: Well what time do you want to come?
Me: You are the one doing the inviting, just tell me what time I should arrive.
Friend: Anytime you want.
Me: What, 5 or 6 or 8?
Friend: How about 5:30?
Me: Fine, see you then.
Why is it so damn hard to get a direct answer to a direct question? Frankly, that is an abridged conversation above. It would have been too boring to have transcribed it if I could have remembered it all. At this point, my stomach is all clenched and I don't even want to go to dinner. Is it just this question? No, of course not. It is that whole way of not communicating.
Please, I beg of you, even if it will hurt my feelings, just answer the question, whether it be big like "Do you want to stay married?" or small like the time to arrive for dinner. Don't make me work for the answer. I just can't play that game, not ten years ago and not now.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Double Feature
Most of the people on this site probably never experienced an old fashioned double feature. First a cartoon, then a movie, then another movie, all for one price. Well I couldn't get the cartoon tonight but I certainly enjoyed a first class double feature. I went to the cheap theater in Hopkins and saw two Academy Award nominees. Well worth the $3.00!
The Blind Side is a really lovely film about a big homeless boy and the family that takes him in and helps him along in his future. It was based on the book written by the woman of the family, played by Sandra Bullock. It was a wonderful cast including a really precocious little boy and Tim McGraw as the father of the family. I am sure there were many altercations within the family but I wasn't bothered by seeing rich people in love living a generous life. The football was well choreographed and fun to watch.
I followed it up by walking, not sneaking, not sneaking at all, into Invictus. I am so impressed by Clint Eastwood's projects. Taking on a film about Nelson Mandela and the 1995 Rugby World Championship is taking a risk. Matt Damon was very good as the thoughtful team captain. Morgan Freeman was terrific as Nelson Mandela, who is one of my personal heroes. The graciousness and humbleness of this man was inspiring. If he can forgive his captors and do what is right for his very damaged country, then I can take a lesson.
The best part for me was at the end of each film, during the credits they showed photographs of the real Michael Oher and the Tuohy family. Real pictures of Nelson Mandela and the South African Rugby team, The Springboks. Of course some dramatization took place for the sake of the story, but real people inspired them. One changed a boy and family's life, and the other changed a nation. I walked out of the theater inspired and would recommend either or both to anyone.
The Blind Side is a really lovely film about a big homeless boy and the family that takes him in and helps him along in his future. It was based on the book written by the woman of the family, played by Sandra Bullock. It was a wonderful cast including a really precocious little boy and Tim McGraw as the father of the family. I am sure there were many altercations within the family but I wasn't bothered by seeing rich people in love living a generous life. The football was well choreographed and fun to watch.
I followed it up by walking, not sneaking, not sneaking at all, into Invictus. I am so impressed by Clint Eastwood's projects. Taking on a film about Nelson Mandela and the 1995 Rugby World Championship is taking a risk. Matt Damon was very good as the thoughtful team captain. Morgan Freeman was terrific as Nelson Mandela, who is one of my personal heroes. The graciousness and humbleness of this man was inspiring. If he can forgive his captors and do what is right for his very damaged country, then I can take a lesson.
The best part for me was at the end of each film, during the credits they showed photographs of the real Michael Oher and the Tuohy family. Real pictures of Nelson Mandela and the South African Rugby team, The Springboks. Of course some dramatization took place for the sake of the story, but real people inspired them. One changed a boy and family's life, and the other changed a nation. I walked out of the theater inspired and would recommend either or both to anyone.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Nice work if you can get it
Twenty months after returning from Kuwait my daughter finally has a job. During this time of unemployment she married a man who works twenty-seven hours a week for a large corporation that has promised him full time as soon as the hiring freeze is over. She came home with twenty-three thousand dollars in savings. Needless to say it is all gone and by last summer they were six thousand dollars in debt. A bond that was bought when she was a baby by my parents came due and they got out of debt and bought a few Christmas presents.
They pay two thirds of their income for rent. I slip her money when I see her and make care packages. I fill her gas tank so she can visit. They turn down invitations because it will cost too much in gas. Every outing is figured in terms of mileage. For my birthday I gave her a rebate check so she could buy me a gift. It wasn't that I needed anything, she just needed to be able to buy me something.
So what is this job? She will be working as a security guard at a beauty college. Four days a week her hours are from 5:30 to 9:30 AM and Friday and Saturday From 3 to 11 PM. She has Sunday off. That is right, working six days a week for thirty-six hours at $11.00 an hour. This is not a sitting at a desk security position, this is a roaming on your feet being a presence.
Her husband suggested she could go to college in the afternoon and I mentioned it gave her time to look for something else. She burst into tears and said, "Let me at least start working before you tell me I can do better!" This period of unemployment has been hard on this highly intelligent woman. I am sorry I was insensitive and forgot that all work has dignity.
So good luck darling, you are a wonderful human being and always a success in my eyes.
They pay two thirds of their income for rent. I slip her money when I see her and make care packages. I fill her gas tank so she can visit. They turn down invitations because it will cost too much in gas. Every outing is figured in terms of mileage. For my birthday I gave her a rebate check so she could buy me a gift. It wasn't that I needed anything, she just needed to be able to buy me something.
So what is this job? She will be working as a security guard at a beauty college. Four days a week her hours are from 5:30 to 9:30 AM and Friday and Saturday From 3 to 11 PM. She has Sunday off. That is right, working six days a week for thirty-six hours at $11.00 an hour. This is not a sitting at a desk security position, this is a roaming on your feet being a presence.
Her husband suggested she could go to college in the afternoon and I mentioned it gave her time to look for something else. She burst into tears and said, "Let me at least start working before you tell me I can do better!" This period of unemployment has been hard on this highly intelligent woman. I am sorry I was insensitive and forgot that all work has dignity.
So good luck darling, you are a wonderful human being and always a success in my eyes.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
At the Jersey Shore
Last Thursday, my daughter and I took my parents out to New Jersey for the wedding of a beloved niece's daughter. It took place in the area of the state known as the Jersey Shore. When some guests found out Eri was from Minnesota they started making "Fargo" noises. She quietly explained that comparing Minnesotans to the movie Fargo was like comparing them to "The Jersey Shore". Boy did that get a reaction.
I had last been in this area as a teenager. It has changed so much from a sort of sleazy, sort of nowhere resort area to lovely redeveloped coastal towns full of nice restaurants and upscale condos. The old cottages have largely disappeared, at least in the areas I saw. The friend who took us out for lunch one day did point out that, as in many areas, the low income people have been pushed out as their housing was razed for development. This is not a new story and takes place everywhere from San Francisco to Philadelphia.
What has not changed, though, is the ocean. Wild and grey with rain, it called to me as we ate our lunch in a waterfront restaurant. I love my friend and her son was as beautiful as a model, but they could not keep my attention from the windows and the grandeur outside. The old lady has a friend from the East at her senior building. They both agree that lakes are nice, but there is something about the ocean that is so much more; it is the smell of the salt and they miss it. (of course I had to be a smart ass and say I would mix some salt water, add cat food and run a fan by it.)
It rained and rained and rained the entire time we were there and I have heard it is still raining. In honor of the stoic and classy New Jersians here is a silly version of the song about raining for 40 days and nights.
I had last been in this area as a teenager. It has changed so much from a sort of sleazy, sort of nowhere resort area to lovely redeveloped coastal towns full of nice restaurants and upscale condos. The old cottages have largely disappeared, at least in the areas I saw. The friend who took us out for lunch one day did point out that, as in many areas, the low income people have been pushed out as their housing was razed for development. This is not a new story and takes place everywhere from San Francisco to Philadelphia.
What has not changed, though, is the ocean. Wild and grey with rain, it called to me as we ate our lunch in a waterfront restaurant. I love my friend and her son was as beautiful as a model, but they could not keep my attention from the windows and the grandeur outside. The old lady has a friend from the East at her senior building. They both agree that lakes are nice, but there is something about the ocean that is so much more; it is the smell of the salt and they miss it. (of course I had to be a smart ass and say I would mix some salt water, add cat food and run a fan by it.)
It rained and rained and rained the entire time we were there and I have heard it is still raining. In honor of the stoic and classy New Jersians here is a silly version of the song about raining for 40 days and nights.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Sucking the life
As time goes by I will be debriefing the trip to NJ with the thousand year old parents but for now, just things I have been thinking about.
It was kind of hard being in a hotel without power on Saturday night and Sunday morning. My daughter Eri and I took them slowly up the steps to our rooms on the second floor and undressed them by flashlight. Somehow we managed. But as I was running around on Sunday morning trying to get them to brunch and back to our rooms to pack someone asked me how I was doing. I said, "They are sucking the life out of me."
I started thinking about it. Why the hell shouldn't they suck the life out of me if they were using and enjoying that energy and I wasn't? Why shouldn't the ones that appreciate the life force get it anyway they can get it? I certainly wasn't enjoying my life and wishing the incidents over. I was wishing the precious time I have away.
The medical mystic Caroline Myss, says that there are some people who are energy vampires. They get their energy from others and don't give any back. They take and take and if you are not vigilant, they will drain your very life's energy. My parents can be that way.
When I am feeling good, feeling alive and in tune with the wonder of Creation, I am easy to get along with and don't mind what I have to do for the old folks. I can laugh it off. At that time I become a conduit for energy. The more I give, the more I get. But let stress, tension, resentments, worry, and negative energy of any kind take hold and I get blocked up. Spiritually constipated would describe it. Then the good energy drains and I have nothing to replenish it with. Then the vampires can drain me dry.
To help unblock the stoppage, I am doing a few things. I erased hurtful, and loving messages from my phone. All text messages are gone. The next part is a little harder. Holding on to resentments and bad thoughts are comfortable in an uncomfortable way, if you know what I mean. I release all negative thoughts and resentments. I empty myself of negative energy so to be receptive to the love that wants to manifest and fill me. It is always there, just waiting for me to be open.
It was kind of hard being in a hotel without power on Saturday night and Sunday morning. My daughter Eri and I took them slowly up the steps to our rooms on the second floor and undressed them by flashlight. Somehow we managed. But as I was running around on Sunday morning trying to get them to brunch and back to our rooms to pack someone asked me how I was doing. I said, "They are sucking the life out of me."
I started thinking about it. Why the hell shouldn't they suck the life out of me if they were using and enjoying that energy and I wasn't? Why shouldn't the ones that appreciate the life force get it anyway they can get it? I certainly wasn't enjoying my life and wishing the incidents over. I was wishing the precious time I have away.
The medical mystic Caroline Myss, says that there are some people who are energy vampires. They get their energy from others and don't give any back. They take and take and if you are not vigilant, they will drain your very life's energy. My parents can be that way.
When I am feeling good, feeling alive and in tune with the wonder of Creation, I am easy to get along with and don't mind what I have to do for the old folks. I can laugh it off. At that time I become a conduit for energy. The more I give, the more I get. But let stress, tension, resentments, worry, and negative energy of any kind take hold and I get blocked up. Spiritually constipated would describe it. Then the good energy drains and I have nothing to replenish it with. Then the vampires can drain me dry.
To help unblock the stoppage, I am doing a few things. I erased hurtful, and loving messages from my phone. All text messages are gone. The next part is a little harder. Holding on to resentments and bad thoughts are comfortable in an uncomfortable way, if you know what I mean. I release all negative thoughts and resentments. I empty myself of negative energy so to be receptive to the love that wants to manifest and fill me. It is always there, just waiting for me to be open.
Friday, March 12, 2010
And we're off!
Getting in a last little blog before picking up the folks for the trip to New Jersey. Whee!
Here is our itinerary:
Thursday:
E and J pick me up at 10:30
Pick up parents at 11:00
Get to airport by 11:30
Getting 94 and 96 year olds through security and to gate, infinity
Get to NJ at 5
Get picked up by cousin B
Dinner at B & I's house
Hotel.
Friday:
Parents rest up for rehearsal dinner
E and I meet my best friend of 54 years!
Rehearsal dinner
Saturday:
Brunch with other cousins
E and I go to church ceremony
Parents rest up for reception
Reception from 5-10:30, good chance parents have to leave early.
Sunday:
I pack them up
We have family brunch
Back to Newark Airport
Back to Minneapolis by 4
Drop them home
Come home and turn on computer.
Hope someone cool is on booty call.
Blog about trip.
Sidney and Harriet go to a wedding, Carol keeps her cool and has funny, I hope, stories to tell.
Here is our itinerary:
Thursday:
E and J pick me up at 10:30
Pick up parents at 11:00
Get to airport by 11:30
Getting 94 and 96 year olds through security and to gate, infinity
Get to NJ at 5
Get picked up by cousin B
Dinner at B & I's house
Hotel.
Friday:
Parents rest up for rehearsal dinner
E and I meet my best friend of 54 years!
Rehearsal dinner
Saturday:
Brunch with other cousins
E and I go to church ceremony
Parents rest up for reception
Reception from 5-10:30, good chance parents have to leave early.
Sunday:
I pack them up
We have family brunch
Back to Newark Airport
Back to Minneapolis by 4
Drop them home
Come home and turn on computer.
Hope someone cool is on booty call.
Blog about trip.
Sidney and Harriet go to a wedding, Carol keeps her cool and has funny, I hope, stories to tell.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Gearing Up
We are starting to gear up for the big trip to New Jersey.
A wonderful cousin's daughter is marrying on Saturday and my parents are so excited! This wedding is the highlight of their year and I think it may be the one thing getting them through this rotten winter. Frankly, when I heard about it last spring, I never thought they would be able to go.
They are so excited. Tomorrow I have to take the old man to the barber shop. He is going to have "the works". Haircut, hair on ears cut, eyebrow trim, and shave. For over fifty years the old lady (96) has been cutting the old man's hair. He is almost 95 and still has a full head of thin white hair. The old lady started working in beauty and barber shops 80!, yes 80 years ago at age 16. She is very propriatorey about letting anyone else cut his hair. It doesn't matter that she is legally blind, and cuts by feel. She has to sit down between each cut.
I put color in her hair on Sunday. She is now flaming strawberry blond and she will give herself a trim today or tomorrow. She likes to do her hair like Barbara Walters. Good thing she can't see very well, otherwise she would see it looks NOTHING like Barbara Walters. I will pack for them on Wednesday.
This is not an easy trip and my younger daughter is coming along to help. This is not a vacation for me; so why am I doing it? Because they want to go so very much. It is good for me to take on a challenge and see if I can do this with humor and love. They were so frail and sick when I moved them from NY, and now they are frail and forgetful, but full of anticipation for a party. The old lady is looking forward to being the matriarch and the old man is looking forward to wearing his pretty suit and shiny shoes.
I try to live by the Golden Rule and do unto others as I would have others do unto me. If it is true that what goes around comes around, I will be loved and cared for in my old age, whether I deserve it or not. I pray I am worthy.
A wonderful cousin's daughter is marrying on Saturday and my parents are so excited! This wedding is the highlight of their year and I think it may be the one thing getting them through this rotten winter. Frankly, when I heard about it last spring, I never thought they would be able to go.
They are so excited. Tomorrow I have to take the old man to the barber shop. He is going to have "the works". Haircut, hair on ears cut, eyebrow trim, and shave. For over fifty years the old lady (96) has been cutting the old man's hair. He is almost 95 and still has a full head of thin white hair. The old lady started working in beauty and barber shops 80!, yes 80 years ago at age 16. She is very propriatorey about letting anyone else cut his hair. It doesn't matter that she is legally blind, and cuts by feel. She has to sit down between each cut.
I put color in her hair on Sunday. She is now flaming strawberry blond and she will give herself a trim today or tomorrow. She likes to do her hair like Barbara Walters. Good thing she can't see very well, otherwise she would see it looks NOTHING like Barbara Walters. I will pack for them on Wednesday.
This is not an easy trip and my younger daughter is coming along to help. This is not a vacation for me; so why am I doing it? Because they want to go so very much. It is good for me to take on a challenge and see if I can do this with humor and love. They were so frail and sick when I moved them from NY, and now they are frail and forgetful, but full of anticipation for a party. The old lady is looking forward to being the matriarch and the old man is looking forward to wearing his pretty suit and shiny shoes.
I try to live by the Golden Rule and do unto others as I would have others do unto me. If it is true that what goes around comes around, I will be loved and cared for in my old age, whether I deserve it or not. I pray I am worthy.
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