33 posts tagged “godmother”

All I can think about is Gina and her broken hip. It happened about two years ago. Just like Gerry, she fell. Unlike Gerry, they chose not to fix hers. Instead she laid in a bed for three months. Moaning in pain. Completely incoherent. They didn't even put a diaper on her. Just a pad like I use for my dog. It breaks my heart to remember.

Gerry's surgery went well. The hip was broken in three places, but they were able to pin everything back together. She'll be in the hospital a couple of days and then to rehab.

Yesterday was a blah day for me. And I didn’t figure out why until this morning.

Gina died one year ago yesterday.

And I knew that. Kept talking about it beforehand. Thought I’d go to the cemetery. Yet, the day passed with me mostly in bed. Napping or reading. I couldn’t figure out why I felt so lousy.

Mom and I talked on Sunday that for it to be a whole year seems impossible. That it actually seems much longer. But that’s because for us, she left long before her body did.

I’ve not seen my Godfather for a year now. And I have no plans to see or talk to him either. Yes, I told mom that I know I’m only hurting myself for hanging on to that anger. At him for leaving her in that hellhole. I’m sure there are worse nursing homes she could’ve been in, but not by much.

And you know what? I don’t like him. I haven’t for a long time. His racist, sexist "jokes" and stories. His need to be right (even if he isn’t) and to be the center of attention. So when I told mom that we probably would’ve dumped him long ago if it weren’t for Gina, she had to agree.

We talked about how we still miss her. How we catch ourselves thinking of picking her up to "go running" with us. I probably don’t do it as much as mom does, but it’s still painful when it happens.

I went back this morning and re-read that week last year. It brought tears to my eyes to remember:

As the minister said, she is in heaven now, talking up a storm. Catching up on all the things she had to say these past few years. And when she is finished, she will pick up her brush and paint again, using the heavens as her canvass.

I was laying in bed this morning and got to thinking about my Godfather. I haven't seen him since the funeral, which in turn got me thinking about my Godmother. I was thinking about that terrible place she died in when Gigi came over and stuck her tongue up my nose. Kind of took the seriousness out of the moment.

Do you know any war veterans?
Submitted by Fightin' 6th Marines.

I do. My Godfather. It's sad because it's what he talks about most. As if the rest of his life didn't mean enough. HE spent 18 months oversees -- in hindsight you'd think it had been 18 years. It's sad that for his entire life that is all he has left to remember.

Today we are going to the cemetery for the first time to see where my Godmother is buried.

It is a glorious evening here. 78 degrees. Slow setting sun. A perfect time to go somewhere and sit outdoors. Go for a walk. But I have no one I can really call. Most of my friends are married. Or fuddy-duddies that would say no. And mom is settled in for the evening.

As much as I hate to admit it, I am really seeing some changes in mom. Her being tired, wanting to go home. That is so not my mom. She used to run circles around me -- not that long ago.

Her walking has become very labored. Last Sunday we went to Mall of America and I pushed her in a wheelchair. All three floors. I've become accustomed to her in a wheelchair at the airport. That's a necessity to get from Point A to Point B in a timely manner. But at the mall, that felt different. Not unnatural, just different. Limiting.

We talked some today about a cane. Which she initially balked at, but once I reminded her that it might help continue her "walking career," she said she wasn't vain about it. Riiggghhhhttttt. That if it helped she'd do it. She has a cane. I'll believe it when I see it in public.

It's really hard to see my mom slowing down. Getting tired. Forgetful. It's become more noticible to me. Especially since we spent the five days together. Repeated conversations. Saying something I'd said earlier.

I read a newspaper headline to her one evening and not 20 minutes later she read it back to me. I asked her, Mom, do you really not remember me saying that to you just a while ago? "No. I must not have heard you." Thing is, I repeated it to her twice and she commented on it.

I made a comment to her earlier about her setting off my car alarm when she left here yesterday. She looked at me like I was absolutely nuts. "I did not set off your alarm!" But she did because my car keys were still in the front door and I was on the couch with Gigi. She has my key on her keychain and I'm guessing she pushed a button while getting into her car.

My doctor made a comment to me last time I was in about her being more forgetful. Part of me thinks I should call her work and ask them how they think she's doing.

Don't get me wrong. She's 82. She deserves to be tired. I just hate to see how much it hurts her to not be able to do what she used to do. It frustrates her. Makes her cry. And that hurts my heart.

Thursday night she brought a bag of jewelry my Godather had given her. Gina's things. I have a few pieces already and wasn't expecting we'd see anymore.

It's funny how grief can suprise you at any time. I'd already had a few moments looking at Mother's Day cards. Remembering the card I selected for her last year. How in another life she would've loved that card. How in a year so much is so different.

As I was looking through her jewelry, I started bawling. I was so surprised by my reaction. Big time sobbing. Having to catch my breath. It hit me from no where. Suddenly. Sharply. The reminder that she is gone. It's so easy to forget.

You know how you're just be-bopping along in your day when you see the calendar date and get be-bopped upside the head?

Today is one of those days. My brother Ernie died two years ago today.

Ernie

The diagnosis.

Am I a match?

The cancer is back

The transplant

The transplant takes hold

Pneumonia

White count cell rises

The beginning of the end

The funeral

I have PMS, so I've been kinda emotional about it today.

Oh, and my Godmother's birthday is tomorrow.

As far as funerals go, my Godmother's was one of the best I have ever been to. Her minister sat with us last night and listened to us tell stories. He did a fine job of gleaning information about her and incorporating it into a true tribute to her life. He truly captured her spirit (Feisty!).

There were some hard moments for mom. Especially when they closed the casket. But the service was so full of life, a true celebration of her. It was easy to laugh remembering the stories he shared, even though the difficult memories of these last few years will always linger.

I am waiting for the dam to crack. I've not lost it yet. I've shed some tears, but not cried. It sounds awful, but I am truly glad she is gone. She was so undeserving of the final years of her life. She was such a good woman. It was just not fair.

As the minister said, she is in heaven now, talking up a storm. Catching up on all the things she had to say these past few years. And when she is finished, she will pick up her brush and paint again, using the heavens as her canvass.

An exchange in the car on the way to the funeral home:

Godfather: What's wrong with you?

Son #2: Mom's dead Dad -- that's what's wrong with me.

Tonight is the viewing. The room she is in is tiny. I know this because I just came from there. She was still cold. She looked like herself though. Peachy lipstick, no hairy upper lip, not a lot of makeup, hair curled nicely.

The viewing doesn't start till 7:30p, which is too late if you ask me. Too late for their elderly church crowd (they're all about the same age). 6-7:30p would've been better. When there's still daylight to drive by. The funeral is at 9a tomorrow. Followed by a burial in a local military cemetery.

My Godfather said one of his sons asked if we would ride in the limo with them. My brother is coming tonight (oh, joy), so we'll just go together in my car. I took it to the car wash just for the occasion. I'm sure the son would like the company. It will be odd with the three of them alone. Maybe if it seats six.