Someone Thinks I'm Awesome

My oldest told me tonight that his roommate thinks I'm awesome.

Here is the response when I asked why:

Oldest: Robert says you're awesome

Oldest: You remind him of his brother for some reason

[23:55] ME: Uh, OK. I'm glad he thinks his bro is awesome. That is good.

EDITED HERE (NOT ON TOPIC).

[00:03] Oldest: He says his brother is a really straightforward person and doesn't take crap

[00:03] Oldest: and is willing to voice his opinion

[00:05] ME: me to a tee, don't you agree

[00:06] Oldest: sure thing

I am really flattered by this comment from Robert. It is very nice to know that a teenager is paying attention to the adults around him. It is also really awesome to be considered "awesome" by a teenager.

ME Being Mom

Mon Nov 26 11:23:47 2007

[11:23] Oldest: ?!

[11:24] Oldest: What'd I screw up that I ended up with a 75 on the 3rd physics exam?

[11:25] Oldest: Doesn't matter, they're going to curve it, and I still have a solid A...

[11:31] ME: That is a huge screw up

[11:31] Oldest: grehhh

[11:32] Oldest: Why can't I have a week where everything goes right?

[11:33] Oldest: At least I got a 100 quiz average in History

[11:33] Oldest: all I had to do was get 60% of the points, though

[11:33] Oldest: because I'm in class with a bunch of morons.

[11:34] Oldest: and I didn't sleep well last night. This week has not started well.

[11:35] ME: Why should you be special and have a perfect week?

[11:35] ME: I didn't sleep very good either, went to bed at 2 a,m

EDITED HERE AS IT IS NOT RELEVANT

[11:36] Oldest: Other people have mostly perfect weeks.

[11:37] ME: No they don't. That is just your imagination.

[11:38] ME: Everyone has an itching butt, or a pimple, or family issues that no one knows about

[11:38] ME: Some people dump food in their laps or go to an interview with a big piece of food in their teeth

[11:38] ME: Some people just smell bad and ruin the day of someone else

[11:38] ME: It is human nature to have things go wrong

[11:39] ME: It is learning how to shrug off the small things and go on that makes the world think you are having a perfect week

[11:39] Oldest: yeah

[11:39] ME: see how wise I am

[11:40] Oldest: mhmm

This is part of an IM conversation I had with my oldest today. He is away at school. As the day went on and I thought back to the conversation, I got to thinking about what if we did have perfect days or weeks. How blah. We would never have the pleasure of a surprise. We would never have a smile just because someone did something nice for us when we were feeling blue. How utterly, horribly boring. I then got to thinking about King Midas. It would be like that only with emotions. YUCK!

No, we are not supposed to have perfect days or weeks. Perfect hours, now those are meant to be.

A perfect hour or so is playing games with your children, having lunch with your best friend, reading a book that you never want to end. A perfect few moments can be found in having your child sit in your lap, even when he is quite a bit taller than you, and telling you his thoughts (notice I did not say hours, my legs would fall off). A perfect few seconds if when your child jumps in the car after school and says he had a terrific day. There are so many perfects to be found during a day that would not be recognized as being so special if all days were perfect.

Weepy Tonight (or This Morning)

It is almost 1 a.m. and I am sitting in my chair watching old sitcoms and crying.

Raymond is so much on my mind tonight that my heart hurts.

Sometimes the flashes that come through are so real, but they are just flashes and I cannot grab on to them.

The other night the youngest did something silly that lasted for just a few seconds, but in that time Raymond's smile flashed through my mind and it was almost as if it formed on my face. It was if I was projecting his smile and approval onto my youngest. It was such a quick flash. I kept trying to make that smile appear again in my mind, but it was gone.

I worry all the time about things I have already forgotten. Raymond was the one that remembered everything about our dating life and our early years together. I cannot remember things like that. Oh, there are certain dates I remember, but not the way he could remember. He was our scrapbook of our life together. Now that scrapbook is gone.

There are pictures of course. Lots of pictures that Raymond could look at and tell the story behind. Me, I can only look at that back and tell you what it says on there about where we were and when. I hate that I cannot remember things like that about our early life together.

I do remember the first time I told Raymond I loved him. We had known each other for a couple of years and had dated on and off. Over the summer we had been dating pretty steady and we were going back to colleges. Raymond went to UK and I went to EKU. Raymond had taken me back to school for our senior year and was helping me set up my dorm room. He was putting together the bunk beds and the room was about 95 degrees. He was sweating so much he had to keep wiping his forehead off so he could see, the bunk beds were not going together like they were suppose to, and yet he was not complaining. I started thinking about all the things Raymond did for me without complaining. The more he banged on those beds trying to straighten out all the parts bent from years of dorm use, the more I thought about what a wonderful and special person he was. So just as he was taking a swing with the hammer I told him I loved him. He stopped and looked at me and asked me to repeat myself. I remember that moment.

I remember him sitting on a cot in my hospital room singing to our first born son "Your Cheatin' Heart." He sang that song because I love Hank Williams' songs and that was the one he knew. Raymond had a nice voice, but he did not share it very often. I remember.

I remember how he held the youngest one when we brought him home from the hospital and showed him the Christmas tree in the living room.

Yes, the most vivid of my memories of our life together are from after the boys were born. Maybe because I always wanted a family. Raymond and I together were just husband and wife, but the boys, they made us a family.

I hate that the boys do not have their father. I am thankful that they remember him. I hope they will remember him all their lives.

I hope I can hold on to all my memories of us together all my life too.

Totally Selfish

The commercial Christmas for me has always been about giving. I always want to watch everyone else open their gifts, especially my boys. I enjoy watching the joy in their eyes when they get something they thought they would not get.

However, when it comes to my receiving gifts, I will admit I was totally selfish about my gifts from Raymond. The anticipation, the excitement of what I would get. It was the same feeling I would have as a child and my brother would wake me up before dawn to see what Santa had brought us. It was because I knew that whatever Raymond bought me was well thought out and would be the perfect gift. It would be a gift from the heart and it would be an extension of Raymond's love for me.

As Christmas nears again and the Christmas ads begin once again, I start to get a lump in my throat thinking about past Christmas Eves with Raymond. We always open family gifts on Christmas Eve. Raymond always went out of his way to surprise me at Christmas. We didn’t buy surprise gifts for each other very often, but Raymond really tried hard to surprise me every Christmas. He would go through the house and see what I needed or would pay attention to things I had talked about and then find something to fill my needs.

One year Raymond bought me my dream mixer. He bought me other things, but the mixer was a huge surprise that he hid in the attic. Another year he bought me my annual favorite slippers and hid a diamond ring in them. It was a ring that I had I had told him I wanted for our anniversary (Jan. 2), but he had picked one out and gave it to me early so it really was a surprise.

I loved the year that Raymond went through my kitchen cabinets and made note of all the items that needed replacing. He replaced all my chipped glass measuring cups.

Another year he did a terrific job of picking out some special cooking tools when I was learning how to bake special cakes. (Yes, I liked to get gifts like that.)

There were several years where Raymond wasn’t able to surprise me because he couldn’t get out and shop without me. I am ashamed to say that on those Christmas Eve’s I would go to bed with a huge lump in my throat because I missed those special surprises. It wasn’t that Raymond didn’t buy me gifts; it was that the surprise was gone. No surprise represented one more thing the cancer took away from us. Another way we would not have our normal life back again.

I would beat myself up after my little pity party because I was so thankful Raymond was there to celebrate another Christmas with us. I would thank God for that year and pray that we would be together another year. I would ask God to forgive me for my selfishness.

Christmas 2005 Raymond surprised me again. The oldest was able to drive and Raymond and the boys went shopping for me. Raymond’s surprise was the first season of “7^th Heaven” on DVD. A television show that I got hooked on only after it had been on for years and I had not seen the earlier shows. Raymond and the boys did not like the show and would groan when I would watch it and make fun of me. So it was an extra special surprise. I went to bed that Christmas Eve so thankful to have had a year like the ones we had earlier in our marriage. Of course, I had no idea it would be our last Christmas with Raymond

I never mentioned to Raymond how much I missed the surprises. I did tell him how much the DVD collection meant to me.

Last year the boys did surprise me in a way. I took them to several stores and pointed out gifts I would enjoy getting and gave them a price range and then left while they shopped. On Christmas Eve, not only was there the surprise of what they bought, but also an extra surprise in that they had added to the gift. It wasn’t quite the same as what Raymond did, but I am hopeful that they will learn as the years go by and that the day will come that they will carry on their father’s tradition with their wives.

It is totally selfish for me to want my surprise each year on Christmas Eve, but that is what happens when you have a wonderful husband that spoils you for years and years. Nothing will ever replace a Raymond Christmas surprise. I am so thankful I had one more before he died. It was so nice to have that glimpse of the past and life before cancer right before we found out that there would not be another Christmas together.

Thank you Raymond for all those years of Christmas Eve surprises. You made me feel so loved by taking the time to find just the right gift.

Another Big Step

I take another big step on Monday, Nov. 26, 2007. I start a part-time job.

I have not worked outside the home, except in a volunteer capacity, since Feb., 1990.

I am very fortunate to have been hired for the job I have accepted. It is very close to home, and I will be able to come home and make my mom's lunch when necessary.

I will be averaging 20 hours a week, some weeks more, some less, and hope to fill a need for my employer and community.

A Blessing and a Losss

A man I knew died today. He has had Alzheimer's for years. I am glad he is out of his prison. I am sorry for his wife, but understand her relief.

My dad died from complications of Alzheimer's. He had it for ten years. It is a horrible disease. My dad once described it for my brother. He said it was like a curtain coming down. Some days he could peak under the curtain, but he always knew that some day the curtain would close for good.

My dad was a wonderful man. Yes, he had his faults like all of us, but most of those could be traced back to his background. His biggest fault was he was too trusting. Raised in a community where a handshake meant something, he was constantly being taken by business partners. It always seemed to be feast or famine in our home. It didn't matter to me because I knew love, laughter, and goodness, but I know that it was hard on my mother.

My dad never met a stranger. If someone admired something he had, he either managed to get one for them, or gave them his.

My dad managed to come back to life after dying on the operating table at least 3 times in the 70's. He survived colon cancer in the early 80's. e was just beginning to enjoy life and travel with my mom when the Alzheimer's struck. I remember thinking how unfair it was that after all he had been through this was his future. He died in 1998.

I remember someone saying to me when my dad died that I did not seem to be mourning. I told them that I had been mourning for 10 years. Now I was rejoicing that my dad was out from behind the curtain again.

I am glad that Kenneth is out of the prison that Alzheimer's had made for him. I will pray for his wife and that she is able to move on to the next stage of her grief, because I know she has been grieving a long time.

To everyone that is a caretaker of someone with Alzheimer's "Bless you." To those suffering from Alzheimer's - I am sorry. May you have many good years before the curtain closes.

Restless

I am very restless today. I am sick with a chest cold. It has been coming on for a couple of days and today it is a full blown hacking cough with burning in the lungs. I took some strong medicine and now when I stand up my head feels odd. The problem is that I am not sleepy. If I could just take to the couch and sleep all day, I would not feel so restless, but I cannot sleep and I want to be doing something, but when I stand up, I want to fall down.

Reading has not been successful because I have this burning desire to be doing something. I want to rearrange my bedroom, sweep the floor, something ... but I can't because of this odd sensation in my head.

Very frustrating. Maybe the medicine will knock me out eventually.