Goodbye 2007

When I think about 2007, here is what comes to mind:

• Mom moved in with us at the end of October.
  
  
• I started a part-time job at the end of November.
  
  
• I reached a long-time goal of taking a quilt class and I love it.
  
  
• I made some huge decisions regarding the house and the world did not end.
  
  
• I took the boys on vacation and we had a great time.
  
  
• I ended the year 7 pounds lighter than I started it.
  
  
• We went to see Jay Johnson’s Tony award winning “The Two and Only.”
  
  
• I know some really fabulous people.
  
  
• How many times my “sister” came through for me.
  
  
• My youngest went away for 3 weeks and didn’t really miss me.
  
  
• My oldest got accepted into the college of his choice.

It’s Great, but When Will I Use it Now?

I was given a great book light for Christmas. I was thrilled to receive it since my last book light had stopped working.

Then last night it came to me. When will I use a book light now?

I used to use one when Raymond was in the hospital and I couldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t want to use the reading lights in the ceiling because it would bother Raymond.

I would use them in the hotels in Houston because the only reading light was on Raymond’s side of the bed.

When I read in bed now I have a lamp next to me, sometimes the lamp stays on all night because I fall asleep reading, but it doesn’t bother anyone because I am by myself.

I don’t usually stay in a hotel on vacations. I try to rent a cabin or vacation home so we can do our own cooking. I always have my own room in those situations, so I don’t need a book light on vacations.

So here I am with this really cool book light and wondering when I will use it. I guess I will put it in my traveling bag and I will have it if I go somewhere and have to share a room.

It makes me a little sad.

Losing My Mind or Being Gaslighted

I really do not know if I am losing my mind or if my mother is gas lighting me.

The other day I was wondering about something new I had bought my mother. I had not seen it at all. Now it is not something I would buy for myself, so it was very distinctly hers. When I asked her where it was, she denied ever getting it. When I told her she definitely had it, she started looking all through her room for it, and I started out helping her. When it was obvious it was not in her room, I went into the other room to let her have privacy in her room. A few minutes later out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw her heading for my room. I thought it was curious since she never goes that way, but went on about my business. A few minutes later I got curious and went into my room and looked around. There in my drawer was what mom was looking for. I found another part of it in my cabinet.

Now the question in my mind was did the boys put it in my room thinking it was mine when they were cleaning up, or did she put it in my room because she found it in her room and wanted to prove it wasn't in there.

That is the thing. Mom’s memory is so bad, but she will not admit it, so she often denies doing things I know she did. She often denies having things in her room, and when I find them in there she accuses me of somehow sneaking it in there. After a while she is so convincing that I start to think it is me, and that I am losing my mind.

It becomes very disturbing after a while. Always doubting whether or not I did something, or she covered up doing something.

Most people that know my mother think she is so sweet that she would never do anything to mess with my head like that, but then she can bluff through her memory issues when she is with someone for a very short time. Only the boys and I really know how bad it is because we are with her all the time.

I can even understand her trying to hide how bad her memory has gotten. She is a very proud woman, who has gone through a lot in her life, so her memory loss is a hard blow for her to take. She has always been the strong one that took care of everyone, a severely handicapped daughter, her own mother, my father, my family when Raymond was sick, so it must be very difficult to be the one that needs help now.

I tell the boys all the time to pay attention because this could be our future together. My mind could go just as my mother’s has, it is a frightening thing to see everyday and wonder if that is what your days will be like in the end. Will I be gas lighting them? I hope not, but then again, I might just be losing my mind.

Wonderful Surprise

My gift from the boys came after Christmas this year, and it was a wonderful surprise.

The complete set of the "Six Feet Under" series. A set I have dreamed of since it came out, but wouldn't get because of the cost. This year I found it at a great price and told the boys I was going to save my Christmas money and finally buy it.

They ordered it for me, but it did not arrive in time for Christmas, so they told me Christmas Day that my gift would come later and that they had ordered me some books.

The day after Christmas I had enough money and went in to buy it only to find out the price had gone up slightly and I did not have enough saved. I was disappointed. I told the boys maybe next year.

Yesterday when I came home they had a box under the tree for me. I was expecting it to be books. I was so surprised to get my "Six Feet Under."

Of course I won't let the little one watch it with me, but my mom and I will enjoy watching all 24 dvds.

I Do Not Understand That Kind of Hatred

On Christmas Eve my oldest was reading the section in the paper entitled "Today in History" and he informed me that the Klu Klux Klan was formed on Christmas Eve in 1865. We then had a discussion of how much hatred those people must have had in their hearts to form such a horrible group on Christmas Eve.

Now I have not researched the early beginnings of the clan, the paper described it as "Several veterans of the Confederate Army formed a private social club in Pulaski, Tenn., called the Klu Klux Klan." One account stated that the original group was formed just to play pranks and was not originally formed against any "race." Still seems odd to me that you need to have a "private social club" to play pranks.

From my freshman year in high school until I moved to Texas I lived in a town with an active KKK. I had a good friend whose uncle was "Grand" something in the local KKK. They had meetings, they were active.

I remember my father coming home from work one day and talking to my mother in the kitchen, I don't think he knew I could hear him. He said that things could be getting bad in town the next few days and we shouldn't go into town unless it was necessary. He said a cross had been burned on a local family's front lawn. I remember being very frightened for that family, but I never heard any more about it or them. I didn't ask because I knew my dad would be upset that I knew. He always tried to protect me from bad news.

I just do not understand the hatred. I do not understand how this group could have been formed on Christmas Eve.

I'm not perfect. I have on occasion stereotyped groups and held things against them, just as I am doing now with the KKK, but I do try to teach my children to be better than I am and to be accepting of others and their differences. I pray that other parents are doing the same and that eventually there will be more love in the world than hate.

Christmas, Again

Well it was Christmas, again, without Raymond.

Yes, I cried many times, alone as to not to upset the family. Yet, these tears were more from remembering heart warming moments together. Very few tears were from heart break.

A new stage? Acceptance? I don't know. I still have so many times when I am angry.

It was a nice quiet Christmas and I think Raymond would have been happy with my choices for the boys. I know he would have loved the autoharp.

I saw a hawk flying several times up until Christmas day. He might have been there Christmas day too if I had left the house.

Now I just need to get through what would have been our 26th wedding anniversary and I will be set for another year.

A Nice Little Prayer

All I need is a forkful of faith, and a knife to slice through my fears. With a spoonful of God's precious mercy, I'll be patient and kind all my years.

My source, "Day by Day" by Delia Parr

I Did NOT Inherit the Magic Gene

Yesterday was a big day. I shaved my legs. I was going to see a matinee of Jay Johnson’s Tony award winning “The Two and Only” at the Majestic Theater and I needed to shave my legs. It was actually seeing Jay Johnson’s “The Two and Only” that made it such a big day, not the shaving of my legs.

I hate shaving my legs.

When I was child I was often told the legend of my paternal grandmother. She shaved her legs once in her life and never had to again because the hair never grew back. Now, I have no way of knowing if this was true or not because whenever I saw her she had on thick support stockings, or was in bed covered by a sheet, but everyone swore it was true.

I remember the first time I shaved my legs. I had been told so often that I was like my paternal grandmother that I just knew that I had that magic gene. The one that would require only one shaving and one shaving only and that part of my grooming life would be over. I was very, very careful. I did not want to miss any hair on the back of my legs because if I missed even one hair the magic gene would not work. Being the first time I shaved, of course there were many nicks and several pieces of tissue were required, but I did not think that had anything to do with whether or not the hair would grow back.

Well, I think we all know that I did not receive that magic gene since I started this great epic with the fact that I shaved my legs today. I was crushed when the hair grew back after that first shaving. I just did not understand why I did not have that magic gene. It was after that when I began shaving my arms because an aunt on my mother’s side did and I thought maybe I had more genes from their side than my dad’s, but that is another story.

I used an electric razor today because I have so many wounds on my legs from various activities of late. My mother asked me why I was bothering to shave my legs when I was going to wear pants. I explained to my mother that the pants I was wearing were thin knit and the hair on my legs had gotten so long that I was afraid it would stick out of the material. What would that be like? What if someone decided they liked the hairy knit pants and wanted to know where to buy some? What would I say? I would be too embarrassed to say “It is just my hairy legs.” No, I would have to say “At the hairy pants store,” and walk away.

So the legs are shaved. Jay Johnson was fabulous. Dinner at Taverna was terrific. The company was the best there could be. So all and all, I am glad I shaved my legs.