Feeling Nostalgic......

As September approaches, I can't help remembering that we lost our Mother on Grandparents Day which was on September 9th that year.  I got the news early in the day just as we were leaving to work at a Water Festival on the Intracoastal.  We had our kids with us (who were also going to work at various booths) and I broke the news to them and the Beast.  I resisted crying although my heart was broken.  

After we were done and were turning in the money we had collected, I was away from the eyes of everyone except the Beast's cousin and a friend and I broke down in the RV that was serving as the command post.  I had been brave all day long although I found out that it had worried the Beast since he knew how much I loved my mother.  I did fly up for the wake and then the funeral.  All of us kids gathered together at my brother's apartment to share memories and cry together.  It was a day of heavy drinking although none of us got drunk.  I didn't understand why until one of the doctors I worked with said that it was the hurt we were feeling that kept us mostly sober.  It was more complex than that but it WAS unusual until he explained it.

My sister-in-law, Kathleen, acted like our caregiver and made sure we all ate and encouraged us to rest when she saw anyone *fading*.  It was a horrible time and yet it had us siblings bonding tightly in our grief.  At the funeral, an uncle of ours who stayed with me when we accompanied our mother's body to the crematorium, said to me, *I had no idea that you kids were so close!*  He said that because HIS kids all lived close to him and he thought you had to be close in proximity in order to be *close*.  We were scattered all over the country at the time.  We were all worried about each other having a relative to stay close to them....just in case.  That's what blew his mind...the caring we showed.

I hadn't slept a wink since I had arrived in Chicago from Florida.  But after the post-funeral get-together with the relatives and friends that had shown up, I went home with my sister, Bee and almost fell into a coma from exhaustion and grief.  When I awoke the next day, we talked and talked and then it was back to my brother's apartment for another day until I had to return home.

My sister, Bratfink, was in charge of Mom's ashes and took them back to California with her.  She scattered Mom's ashes on the mountains per Mom's wish.  Mom loved California and the mountains in particular.  She lived there during the same time that my family did.  Bratfink had a brief little *ceremony* with some of her friends attending and, just as she went to scatter the ashes, a whirlwind appeared and grabbed up the ashes and scattered them down the mountain.  It caused a bit of a stir since you almost never get a whirlwind on the mountainsides and everyone kind of gasped.  Bratfink felt it was something that my mother's spirit had sent to help in the scattering of her ashes.  

My mother at least got to know her grandkids but I was so sad that she died at the age of only 56 and never got to see her great-grandchildren.  When the Princess was born (she was the first), I looked at all of her beautiful brown hair and her gorgeous eyes and I knew my mother would have loved her instantly.  I actually cried just thinking about that.  

For a long time, I missed my mother so much.  We hadn't always been friends.  It took a while before we *buried the hatchet*, so-to-speak, over my rebellious years but I loved the person she was and learned to enjoy my time with her.  She had moved down to Florida when my sister, Cee, came down after her divorce.  Mom took care of her two children and the house while Cee worked.  After that, Mom took a job herself as a housekeeper to two doctors.  I would drive down on Mom's day off and we would go to Fuddruckers for food and a couple drinks before I took her back.  I usually brought the kids with me so she would have time to spend with them.  I even brought Cee's kids when I could.

I would call her or she would call me and we swapped jokes and news.  When she left that job to move back to Chicago to care for her mother, I missed her company big time!  I had my dream job by then...writing radio scripts, TV scripts, newspaper ads, brochures, etc. for an advertising agency.  My son, Mustachio, even appeared in one TV commercial for a Rehab Center.  He still has the tape that was made for him so he would have a copy.  I had it for several years before I finally gave it to him.  It needs to be copied to a disc now since it's on a VCR tape...LOL.  No one has those any more I don't think.  Not even my son!

But here's why I got into this mood.  Grandparent's Day is coming up and I actually wonder if my kids would cry if I suddenly died.  Although we had warning with Mom and knew she was terminal once she became ill, it was still a shock to all of us.  I think they all know that I love them for many reasons, including keeping them from being abused when their father was drunk.  I took the blows because he got so angry that I *interfered* with his going after them (for no reason other than he got so paranoid when drinking).  I had many a cracked rib, a broken cheekbone, ...I really don't want to relive all the abuse I took.  Why did I stay with him?  Oh, I left him a couple times but ended up believing his BS to get me back.  All because of my Catholic roots and the belief that *marriage was forever*.  I know, I know...I was stupid.

But when the Beast had his strokes, what was MY thoughts?  **There IS a God!**  There was a funny incident that occured when he was in ICU.  He woke up and was puzzled where he was and why (a stroke is painless).  There was a black nurse in the room and he asked, *What am I doing here?*  She said, *You are here because of all the terrible things you have done in your life!*  Later on, when I tried to find the nurse (to thank her actually since it seemed almost like she knew him), I was told that there had been no black nurse or orderly on at the time this occured.  One of my sisters suggested that it was probably an angel sent to warn him that he had better change his ways.  I almost believe that.

So now, with Grandparents Day on September 13 this year (no, I don't think that *I* am going to die!), it just got me wondering if any of my grandchildren will think of me and, perhaps call or send me a gift of flowers or even one of the candles that I love (fragrantjewels.com).  A neighbor bought a couple different ones and they smell AWESOME!!!  I always wanted some of those fruits that were made into a kind of bouquet but Mustachio once tried to order them for me but they don't deliver into our area (the closest store is located in Huntsville, unfortunately).  I know it seems kind of ...well, petty, to want to be appreciated so that I know I am being thought of but I would prefer it while I am alive rather than after I am dead.  Don't you think?

Time to wrap up this missive.  I've shed my tears for the day.  A habit us old folks easily get into...LOL.  Love you all.  Really!  Be kind to those that are not.  They need it the most.  You never know what devils they are fighting.  But a small act of kindness is worth so very much.  ***Hugs***