The Year

Here goes…this last year has bit the big one. Work has absolutely sucked, my mom was in and out of the hospital, and so was her twin. In August, mom died, followed a month later by her twin. I am literally at grief overload. I don’t think it all really hit me to right now. Since mom died, we have all been holding our breath, waiting for Aunt Mary to pass. Now that she has and her services are over, I can let out a breath. But that means, now I can also fully absorb all that has happened. 

I am sitting at work, after having the last three days off to attend my aunt’s funeral (10 hours away). I kept busy in the morning, but have hit the wall. I am almost paralyzed. So, I am doing what I do to get calm – write. 

My mom and I were very close. We talked or saw each other almost every day. My dad died almost 25 years ago, which I think made our bond stronger. My mom raised all six of us, with different relationships with each. My sister and I spent the most time with her – we went on vacations, took her to the cabin, had dinner, and would call to see if she needed to “do a Target run”. The girls get that sometimes you just don’t want to be alone. The boys were fine, but did not always think about the everyday life.

My mom and her twin were unbelievable close. While my mom got married after college, her twin entered the convent. They were very different, but still very connected. Where my mom was more of a behind the scenes, hard worker, Aunt Mary was loud and made things happen, with just a phone call. The two of them talked multiple times a day. Aunt Mary always stayed with our family when she came into town and we all were very close with her. 

As an adult, when hard times hit, mom and Aunt Mary both helped in their own unique way. Mom would listen to me, offer money, take me shopping, and most importantly, step in with my daughter. I became a single mom when my daughter was ten. Once I got a full time job, mom picked up the slack – going to school masses, field trips, doctor’s appointments, etc…I could never have managed those years without her support. Aunt Mary, on the other hand, was very practical. She kept telling me I could face these challenges, that I was strong, and that I could not control what had happened, only my reaction to it. She worked for a local warehouse that supplied furniture to the needy and she often would drop by with little presents for me and my daughter. We now were the needy, but she always made it seem like I was doing her a favor by taking these “extra items” off her hands. 

Even though I feel comfort in knowing these two strong, inspirational women are together, losing them at the same time is heartbreaking.  I have picked up my phone on more than one occasion to call one of them or I catch myself thinking, “Oh, I have to remember to ask Mom/Aunt Mary that”. 

I am normally a very upbeat positive person and it is very hard to let myself be sad for more than a few minutes. I know I will get through this, but I know I will never be the same. We have lost an entire generation in my family. My daughter has no grandparents and even though I am 42, I feel like an orphan.

Ok, I got it out for now, I really should try to do some work!

24 Years Ago Today

Blaring opera music and ice cubes down the back – a few of the tactics my dad used to get us up out of bed and off to school or mass. Twenty four years ago, the world lost a great man. Not only was I lucky enough to have him in my life the first 18 years, but to have him watching over us all since.

 

I remember the day with vivid clarity. Aunt Mary had just gotten into town and was going to head up to the lake to meet up with my mom and dad. She was staying at my parents’ house – so my brothers, sister, and I had the family over for dinner. Uncle Bill, Aunt Ardy, Uncle Jim, Aunt Joanne, a variety of cousins, and friends. I just started dating a new guy, so he was there also (my parents hadn’t even met him yet). We were laughing and visiting and having a good time. We made a big spaghetti dinner. The phone rang and I answered it in the kitchen– it was hard to hear above all the noise. The caller asked for my brother Dan. As we were cleaning up the dishes I overheard parts of the conversation – I heard him say “ok – we will meet you at Crosby.” Dan hung up the phone and I kidded him about who he was meeting in Crobsy (which was a park nearby). He had a weird look on his face and said “not Crosby Park – Crosby Hospital, Dad collapsed and they think from a  heart attack and it is bad.” We immediately called my other two brothers who were not there and actually got a hold of them both (this was pre-cell phone days). After a discussion of who should go – friends wanted to drive us – but we thought best to just have the six siblings go. We headed up –picking up my brother David on the way. We had one quick stop at a rest station and we were in Crosby in record time. We walked into the ER and a friend of the family was standing there, crying. I knew instantly I would never see my dad again. We found my in shock mom and all broke down. Eventually, we made our way back to the cabin. We sat around and cried, told stories, and even managed a few laughs. We each made a few private calls – I called my very new boyfriend and all I could utter was “ he didn’t make it – please call Laura and tell her.” No one slept more than a few minute at a time. Two of my parents friends showed up at 8 am with coffee and donuts – aunts and uncles who had cabins nearby stopped by. We helped mom pack her things and we piled into cars. My brother Stephen and I took the dog in moms car. I smoked the whole way home. As we were nearing my mom’s house, we passed my friend Laura and Sean -  they were heading in the opposite direction. The look exchanged between us all was more than words could ever say.

The next few days were a constant wake. Mom stayed in the same chair all week with literally hundreds of people stopping by the house. People flew into town – my friend Jenifer immediately hopped on a plane. I tell you, those are the things that mean the world to you. My dad had always said he did not want a wake, so instead it was a in the home, four day long one! He also did not want a funeral or public burial. It seems odd, looking back, that we knew so much about want dad wanted. We moved en mass to the funeral home, the cemetery, and the church figuring out plans. So, to honor his wishes, we had a “Celebration of Life” Memorial Service followed by a huge party at moms. My parents friends pretty much took over and organized the party. Aunt Mary (the nun and mom’s twin) planned the mass. The morning of the mass, my mom’s friend Sheila was helping my sister and I figure out what to wear. I recently had lost a lot of weight and nothing fit. Finally, after much agonizing, we found a dress that worked. We waited until the last second to leave. As we pulled up to the church – there were cars everywhere. In fact, people were standing outside, trying to get in. Our church held about 1500 people and it was packed with people standing in the back. I have never seen anything like this.

I had agreed to do a reading – to this day I have no idea why I did this. I held it together for as long as I could. My voice cracked, tears flowed down my face, but I got though. I went back to the pew and was in full blown hysteria. I learned that I am not a graceful crier. At communion, I really lost it again. As I saw countless people walk by, I was so touched by those who showed up – including most of my 52 classmates that I had graduated with only 2 months before.

Then we had the party at moms. Lots of alcohol was consumed that day. Beer...hugs...beer...tears...yep, that about sums it up! I even saw my very stoic grandma have a cigarette – which I had never seen her do before.

The next day, we had a private burial. It was immediate family (which was about 50 people) and a few close friends. I wore a red polka dot dress that I borrowed from Laura.

Afterwards, I think we all collapsed. I needed to get ready for college – I was leaving in a week. Oh boy!

Downton Abbey – Why We Love it!

Do you remember the days before cable, Netflix, Instant Steaming, and Hulu? If so, then you remember what an event it was when the TV networks ran a mini-series. They would promote it for a month before, households would mark it on their calendar hanging in the kitchen, and moms would think of special foods to make that week. In our house, it was almost like a holiday when Roots, Gone with the Wind, The Blue and the Grey, or the steamy Thournbirds ran on TV. The kids would quickly get homework done; Dad would stroll in from work, with an air of excitement filling the house. We would have dinner that allowed for snacking (more of a sandwich night then a pot roast night). The furniture would be rearranged with chairs from the barely used living room. Popcorn would be popped and we all would settle in from 7 pm until 10pm, watching with anticipation as the “Special Programing” banner came on the TV. I loved those evenings and didn’t matter that the same min-series ran year after year. The older I got, the more I understood of the relationship between the Fr. Richard and the young Rachel (disturbing might be a better word).

Today, the kids are missing out on those special family nights (although, the Olympics make a pretty good equivalent). Anyhow, back to my point. Downton Abbey. Everywhere I looked, people were talking about this PBS show. Facebook was filled with “which DA are you most like” quizzes, Tweets about the “wait for the new season finally over…yeah me!”, and discussions about “good programming is finally back!” was overheard at every recently opened fashionable cupcake bakery and hip food truck line. I admittedly was late to the game, but now I am a total convert! First five minute of  watching via Netflix and I was hooked. Then it got me to thinking…this reminds me of the excitement of watching a mini-series!  The old fashioned outfits, the high society, the historical context, the maids, the butlers, the horses, the gas lamps, the gossiping, the letter writing, the drama, the bequests, the titles, the arranged marriages, the candles and secret passages…wow! How I love this type of show. 

My daughter and I are taking our sweet time getting though the series. We have two episodes of season one left. We are savoring it like a fine piece of chocolate, because who knows when we will be able to recapture the mini-series experience again.

Moving Day, Part 7

So, I added up how many times, as a post-college adult, I have moved. This May brings the eighth place I will have lived. For a kid who hadn’t moved from birth until 17, this seems like a lot! For my daughter, this will be her 5th address. 

As it happened – three of those moves were within a year (a very dark year that we do not like to discuss)! You know how people use the metaphor – “she has a lot of baggage” – this seem to be a literal case in my household. What I am trying to get at, is some of my boxes have been packed and moved multiple times, without ever having been opened. This move is the Big Clean Out of 2012! Every single box, bin, suitcase, trash bag is being opened. One of five things needs to happen – throw-out, put in a “shred box (good lord, I have a crap load of that!), donate to Goodwill, give to a sibling, or pack and mark the contents clearly and with a big “2012” on it.

This little undertaking has brought me to tears (old cards from my aunt), made me laugh (old letters from my friends – remember when we wrote letters?), made me tell my daughter stories that probably should have been left untold (“who are you with in this picture Mom?”), and made me exhausted! But – I know in the end, I will be happy to know what I have, where it is (found two huge boxes of kitchen ware), and feel ready to start the next house!

Through all of this, I have taken a new position within my company and my mom has continued on her cancer battle (radiation and chemo this time – joy!). Major events always happen in clusters – why would I ever expect any different!