Father Knows Best?

Dolphins! Real dolphins!

I love my dad. He’s incredibly intelligent and has a great, dry sense of humor, but when it comes to tact – or how-to-get-close-your-daughter-quickly genes – he needs work.

Heard this morning as I was trying on some pants I found in my mom’s closet with the tags still on.

“Wow, Mom must have bought those when she had gained a lot of weight.”

Roughing it

Heading South

Picture I took from the back seat, driving home from the airport, during my trip to Naples last March.





It has already been a long morning and I just got out of bed. I’ve been awake since about 4:10 A.M. Chris predicted that this would happen – it always does before we go out of town. Today (in about 6 hours) we leave for Florida to spend a week with my dad. The reason that I have been awake is because I have been packing via visualization.

I am not packed. Not one suitcase is out. There are piles around. We have a snack pile on the kitchen counter along with a DVD pile.. I have a summer clothes pile for me on the floor of our bedroom. I’m pretty sure all the kids’ summer clothes are under the bottom shelf in their closet (a sort of pile) and I have some Teva’s piled by the back door. On the dining room table, we have a marker-tape-scissors-activity books-drawing paper pile. Somehow, in my little mind, I felt comfortable watching and hour and a half of “What Not to Wear” last night instead of packing. As if gaining any last minute knowledge on dressing correctly would help hide all the weight I’ve gained since right before my mom died. Ha! I don’t think straight-leg, medium-rise, dark denim jeans will hide the girth of my thighs in a bathing suit this week!!

It will all get done. It always does. And I will fall asleep in my dad’s condo tonight where the temperature will be warmer at midnight than it gets here on a warm sunny spring day. I’m excited to see my dad, but curious as to how I will be able to handle not having my mom around. In some ways it will be freeing. My mom couldn’t enjoy my kids the last year. They were too loud and raucous for her. This trip they will be able to run and play pretty freely. (I will probably just have to shush them during “The McNeil-Lehrer Report” – one of my dad’s favorite PBS business shows.) But in most ways it will be another transition. She won’t be there to greet me at the airport, and wait for my luggage as my dad circles to avoid parking fees, as she has done for years. That first hug, that I always had to stoop over for, was actually one of the highlights of all of my visits. She would be waiting for me, upstairs right on the edge of security, in a sea of a million other retirees, smiling so big that her eyes were almost shut. Her lipstick was always bright coral and she usually had on a classy straw hat of some sort. It was my sign that she was relaxed and at peace in one of her favorite places.

Hopefully that’s how she feels right now. I miss her desperately.

Unprepared

Harry playing "hide and seek" in my parent's living room the morning of my mom's memorial service.

I’ve slept on it. I’ve tried to push it to the back of my mind. I’ve analyzed every rationalization. I’ve tried to ignore it.

I’m just not ready to accept the fact that my dad is thinking of asking another woman on a date.

surprise!

Today was one of those days when the weather COMPLETELY shocked me.

Yesterday we were running around without jackets - thinking of spring. I noticed that some of my bulbs are sprouting.

This morning, however, the sun was shining, the temperature had dipped and the view was spectacular.

New rule: No balls in the house

 
Harrison seemed a little tired on the way home from an errand last weekend. I took off his seatbelt, but couldn't carry him in (due to the GIGANTIC hole cut out of my back) so I brought some things inside and then came back out to find this.

I'm posting this picture to remind me of his positive qualities. Yesterday he pulled a Dennis the Menace. He was goofing around with a little nerf-type ball in the living room. I asked him to take it downstairs, but he wasn't exactly compliant. "Just a second, Mom..." then I heard a crash. A loud crash. The kind that sounds like something extremely delicate has been broken. Actually it was more like LOTs of somethings extremely delicate were broken.

As we ran out of the kitchen, I went left to check on my grandmother's china set that sits in a glass curio cabinet, while Chris headed right. There it was - shards of mirror everywhere. The very large mirror that sat on our fireplace mantel was now on the floor in a million pieces. Harrison was crying and apologizing. He knew it was bad.

He was so upset that it was hard to get too upset with him. I was actually pretty calm about the whole thing. Chris, on the other hand, got the lovely task of vacuuming. It took about 30 minutes to get everything up...there were mirror shards over 15 feet from the scene of the crime.  

Mole excision. Check.

 

Authentic Ella style 






”Now that I’m home, still numbed up, I can look back on today’s “procedure” and say that overall it wasn’t so bad.” That was the first line of the post I intended to finish and post on Friday. The day, however, got away from me and when I woke up – in A LOT of pain Saturday morning – the cutesy, funny thoughts were long gone. All in all, the mole removal was a much bigger deal than I anticipated.

Naively, I was escorted into the “surgical” room by a very friendly male medical assistant with a name that ended with “ie”. I definitely have a stereotype (that surfaced just at that moment) about men with “boy” names. I tried not to get too worked up about it – he did look older than 12, so I’m sure he knew his stuff. He got me to sign a couple of releases as he explained to me what was going to happen. The more he talked, the more apprehensive I became.

After BoyNurse and I picked some music (they didn’t have any blues), Dr. McNiceGuy showed up. He basically told me that he had to cut out about half of my back to keep the scar pretty. Something about puckering. He said it in a really pleasant, nice way, though. I saw the tray of “tools” and then the cauterizing gun started up (which caused me a painful accidental electrocution episode later, by the way.) That was it. I freaked and started talking really fast for the entire half hour. BoyNurse, Dr McNiceGuy and I actually had a pretty fun conversation. Our main topic was Doc’s love life. He’s seeing two women right now. I suggested that he might be seeing the bartender strictly for the cheap…drinks. He quickly denied this. I then continued to try to keep the conversation light as he CARVED a piece of my skin out of my body the length and thickness of a tropical fish (seriously – I saw it when BoyNurse showed Chris the “fish” in it’s jar.)

I am just starting to recover from the unexpected aftermath of this. I can’t lift anything more than 10 lbs., or exercise, for two weeks - that was quite a shock. It also hurts more than I expected. (I know, I’m a wuss, but I’m perfectly okay with that.) I’m just biding time waiting for the stitches to be removed and the new facts to sink in – I have a five times greater risk of developing melanoma.

My boss has been pretty sympathetic…he told me to quit worrying. He said that I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. He told me to live each day to the fullest. As his employee, I know am supposed to follow orders. This one, unfortunately, seems to be a tough one.

I think this is a good sign

It snowed a lot for a couple of days last week. Harrison decided to help shovel before school one day.


I had my first appointment with MT, my new therapist. She is straight forward, yet compassionate. She seems to be a problem solver, but still takes the time to thoroughly listen.

As I drove to the grocery store, after the meeting, I felt different. I didn't recognize the feeling at first. Then I pegged it.

I felt hopeful.

Warning: lots of personal health info ahead

a beautiful bouquet given to me by a dear friend last weekend



The round of doctor visits over the last month is almost complete:

- Annual physical with pap smear. Normal results. Check.

- Mammogram. Normal results. Check

- Follow up MRI. Spots on frontal lobe have not grown. Check. (facial numbness still around, but I’m trying not to worry about it)

- Dermatology appointment due to weird looking mole on back found during physical…mole biopsied…mole came back as “atypical nevi”. This basically means that it is benign, but not normal. From what I have read, I just have to be more careful and go to the dermatologist yearly. I have a higher likelihood of acquiring melanoma. They want to “excise” it on Friday. It’s supposed to take an hour. (Why the hell does it take that long to remove a mole???? I think it’s a ploy to scare the living daylights out of me so that I’ll wear sunscreen this summer.)

- After two weeks of dealing with unprofessional EAP representatives and unhelpful insurance people, I think I have found a great therapist. I have my first appointment tomorrow. This new counselor, “MT", nor any of the 7 or so other professionally recommended counselors, are covered on my insurance. After my experience with Bill, I don’t have the emotional energy to tell my story to many more people. I just want to be heard, by someone compassionate and intelligent, that has lots of experience and can guide me to some sort of recovery. Chris and I agree that this will be a good use of our limited funds.

- Somehow I lost a contact lens while I was wearing it. I have a call into the eye doctor.

- Cracked tooth (actually a part of the tooth is gone now!) due to eating stale candy heart last week. No appointment with dentist scheduled. Very afraid of dentists.

I hope next month is less medically exciting.

Happy Birthday, Mom

I took this picture, along with about 150 others, last summer when we went to Minnesota to help my parents get their house ready for sale. It was somewhat hard to keep the kids busy during this long two week trip, but I cherish the lasting memories I have of that extended visit with my mom while she was still very coherent and fairly "healthy."

I'm not one to feel very sentimental about anniversaries of things, but I do feel like February 18th will always be a significant date in my life. A friend described it well. She said it was "present" therefore I feel it. I'm not sure what to think about it. I do know that I've been extra tearful for days. I'm looking forward to not being so sad about this.

Where IS heaven?

Monday night Ella and I went shopping for a Valentine’s gift for Chris. As we were waiting for his gift to be wrapped, we walked across the way into a quirky gift shop with everything from pet paraphernalia to artificial aluminum Christmas trees. Ella wandered over by some wooden figures – carved snowmen, Santas and angels. As Ella fondled one of the angels, I asked her if it was an “Oma angel”. She didn’t answer, but quickly asked, “Where is heaven, Mama?” I don’t remember talking about heaven in reference to my mom’s death at all, but maybe she overheard people at the service. I couldn’t conjure up a simple answer fast enough before she was off to look at the wooden alphabet letters on display and loudly declare them out of alphabetical order. I’m sure she believed the teenage store clerk cared.

After we went back to pick up Chris’ gift, she asked if we could go in one more store. She picked Pottery Barn Kids. This store was nirvana for her – running from the kitchen “appliances” to the SUV playhouse to the fabric dollhouse. A lot of imaginary play started occurring. She immediately started talking about her “grandmother.” She calls Chris’ mom, “Grandma”, but it still took me a few seconds to realize the subtle difference. She referred to her “grandmother” over and over saying that she was sleeping in the playhouse, or cooking in the kitchen, and then I finally asked, “Ella, who is your grandmother? Where does she live?” “Maawwm, I’m just pretending!”

This morning, still waking up slowly with Chris, I told him this story. His reply: “Really? That’s interesting. Harry asked me about heaven yesterday, too.”

It’s interesting for me to watch my childrens’ minds work through my mother’s death. Each in their own way. As hard as it can be at times, I’m so glad that angels seem to always trigger memories of Oma for them. Maybe my mom is showing herself to me through these interactions. I would love to think she’s watching.

The little things

Ella got some new barrettes and she's so excited about them that she asked me to take a picture of them. 

Time Out

Baby Seal, Baby Polar Bear and Leppy the snow leopard (shhh...don't tell him it's a tiger)


Harrison is a pretty fickle kid when it comes to toys. He has his favorites, but goes through phases: Legos for awhile, then he'll play with his construction vehicles for awhile, then it will be his helicoptor or airplane. However, when it comes to things a person cuddles with, he is very set in his ways.

Baby Seal is still at our house and still a favorite. Santa brought Baby Polar Bear in hopes that Baby Seal could be returned to his rightful owner. This did not happen. It actually strengthened the bond between Harry and Baby Seal and now we have two LARGE animals dragged around our small abode.

Leppy was given to Harrison, when he was about 18 months old, by my mom. She found an adorable snow leopard puppet at the Naples Zoo. It instantly was named "Leppy" and was his favorite toy until about last October when Leppy disappeared. We still have no idea where he is, but Harry was pretty sad. Because of all the craziness in December and November, I found myself shopping for most of the kids' Christmas gifts in a 24 hour time span. I found this white stuffed tiger and in my shopping/grief stricken haze thought it was a leopard. I wrapped him up and Harry was thrilled to get him. He instantly yelled, "Leppy" ( I guess we were both easily mistaken!)

It now has become Harrison's hobby to "collect" stuffed animals from the arctic. He wants a penguin, a walrus, etc. We probably won't give him too many more as he is having trouble carrying all of these around - and the more he gets, the more chance of losing one right before bedtime when he demands they are all in bed with him.

I think his attachment to these animals is cute, but more than that I finally have something meaningful to take away from him when I can't get him to follow directions or listen to me. "If you don't____, I'll take baby Seal away." This works 90% of the time. Some times I even have to take away the other two. Then he knows he's really in trouble.

Another day on the slopes

Despite their expressions, the kids had an amazing day skiing independently sans their harnesses most of the time.

Things heard:

Ella: "I am so proud of Harrison!"

Harrison: (after coming down the bunny hill alone his second time) "That was soooo much fun, Mama. So fun!"

Both of them over and over: "I want to go again!"

Heading home.