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Friday, February 20, 2015

The silliness began

Some events are hard to put in to words and some posts are very difficult for me to relive as I tell our story.  Please be patient as I struggle to spare you some of my very raw emotions.
Many posts are written (and re-written) several times as I attempt to capture the meat of the story and leave some of the seasoning behind!
For those of you just tuning in and wondering what I am rambling about, I hope you will read my earlier posts and catch up with our story.
For those of you who have been along for the whole wild ride, thanks for hanging with me!
I would very much appreciate your thoughts and comments.....it helps to know someone is out there!


The silliness began





Let’s face it, there’s not a lot of entertainment to be found hanging around a hospital……..unless you happen to be a member of my family!  With mom safely in her bed on the orthopedics ward after her surgery on August 30, 2013 and flying high from the dilaudid pain pump she was gripping with all her strength, the silliness began.




My younger sister held a spoon like a microphone and asked mom “Is there anything you would like to share with us?”  As we all giggled, mom spoke poignantly into the makeshift microphone, “I just want to thank you all for being here……I was so afraid…..I just love you all!”  Mom was so serious that we couldn't resist having some fun.



It’s a wonder we didn't get kicked out of the hospital as we roared with laughter while mom entertained us.  “A tutor who tooted the flute tried to tutor two tutors to toot; said the two to the tutor is it harder to toot or to tutor two tutors to toot?” Mom was actually remarkably good at tongue twisters even when she was stoned out of her mind following surgery!

“Sally sells sea shells……….” “There once was a lady from Niger……..” “Rubber baby buggy bumpers…….” “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers…..”


Suddenly mom opened her eyes wide and looked very serious and started talking about the rabbits around the hotel; the dog at home; and the mule in the closet……….. (For those of you who haven’t followed our story, that mule caused a lot of ruckus and cost me an entire nights sleep nearly a year before).  The mule, who was “darker colored than the dog, but lighter than the bunnies” according to mom, had resided in my mother’s bedroom closet since nearly a year before when she had suffered from horribly vivid hallucinations following a nasty reaction from Gabapentin.  That mule had seemed so real to her; she said                                                                            she would “still recognize that mule”.

Moms eyes fluttered with another beep from the pain pump clutched tightly in her hand.  “Have you talked to Luke?” mom asked me and then continued, “I hope he doesn't crap in the closet”; I was laughing so hard I had tears rolling down my cheeks when mom (very seriously) clarified, “Not Luke, the mule”.

I tried to quit laughing when I asked if she wanted me to call my son, Luke, and have him put the mule in the garden.  Mom’s eyes fluttered closed as she smiled sweetly and said, “Yes, put him in the garden – that’s a good place for him”.  A moment later her eyes flew open and she said, “NO! Don’t call him!  He’ll think I want one and he’ll get me a mule! .......I don’t REALLY want one!”  Luke has always told grandma he would do “anything” for her……….

The silliness continued until we were saying our “goodbyes” and preparing to leave for a while so mom could get some rest.  Once again mom grew very serious and thanked us all profusely for being there; her articulation and poise (at least in her current state) rivaled that of an off the cuff Academy Award acceptance speech as she thanked God; her family; and her surgeon.  With tears in her eyes, mom said “I really didn't think they were going to be able to save it – I’m so glad they did”.

I have to admit, I also hadn't been sure they were going to be able to save moms’ leg.  I also still wasn't sure it was going to be functional and I wasn't ready to tell mom that the surgeon had termed the leg as a “salvage” limb.  I felt the tears stinging my eyes as I kissed my mother and said through the lump in my throat, “I’m glad too, mom.  I love you”.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to have a serious conversation about how useful (or not) her leg was going to be.  I wanted to be optimistic, and I was indeed cautiously optimistic.  The fact that mom had a leg was a miracle in and of itself; actually, the fact that she was alive was a miracle too.  I was afraid to push my luck and pray (or even hope) for too much.

I needed to push the “what if’s” out of my mind for now; I needed to distract my mind.  A good comedy would probably be a good distraction – or an afternoon/evening with my siblings and my aunt, which is pretty much the same thing.

I’m pretty certain if any one of us were half as funny as we seem to think we are when we get together, at least one of us would have our own comedy show.  Of course, one does have to wear a little armor when bantering with ones siblings; you have to be quick with the come backs and ready to take some heat.  None of us were immune from the stories of our childhood, teenage or even some of our adult escapades; each of us stood ready with the next story in order to deflect the attention from ourselves.

As tears rolled down my cheeks and I my sides ached from laughing I realized, even with the sacrifices made in order to make sure mom was cared for, The Lord had truly blessed me in so many ways.

I had a husband who had shown incredible love, patience and support (moral, emotional and financial).




I had three wonderful adult children who had been incredibly understanding and supportive.




My world was even brighter when I looked at my two beautiful grand children and thought of the third one on the way made me giddy.





Sharing memories (while making new ones) with my siblings is a wonderful gift that I will always cherish.




Add to all that, the incredibly heartwarming experience of really getting to know my mother and having her share so many of her memories; so much of herself with me over the past couple of years……..yes, I truly was blessed.

Lord, please help me remember tomorrow how blessed I feel today.