Like Having My Arms Cut Off

On Sunday, December 11, 2016, I attended a play at the Arvada Center by the name of I'll Be Home For Christmas. There were many Young At Heart members at the play and when I went to take a picture I realized that I did not have a memory card in my camera. I pulled out my I-phone and a blurb came up that I could not take a picture because the storage was full. I erased some of the pictures hoping that it would give me enough space to take some pictures of the holiday-dressed persons but it was as if the phone was locked. No pictures were taken. I felt helpless. Without a camera there would be no pictures for my blog or for Facebook.

The two pictures I took are from the Arvada Center for the Arts and Humanities program. The four main characters are pictured near the Christmas Tree and clockwise from top are Noah Racy (Dana Bright); Megan Van De Hey, (Louise Bright); Jake Mendes (Simon Bright) and Kim McClay (Maggie Bright). The photo was taken by Matthew Gale Photography 2016. Somehow, I did manage to get two pictures before my phone stopped working.

The story is about the Bright family who have a television show and this may be their last show. The son has just returned from the Vietnam war, the daughter protests the war, the mother believes everything can be solved with a song and the father tries to hold the family together. The voices are tremendous and so is the dancing though to me it was not what I would consider a Christmas show even though there are beautifully lit trees, holiday costumes and some Noel songs. The story seemed to be about the hang ups the son has about the war, the daughter wants to be treated as a grown up and a young man who knew all the songs and steps the son should have been doing replaces the son.
Eventually, everything is straightened out with some anger, lots of humor, dancing and singing.

It was an all right play and everyone ends up in a happy state, yet I have seen better Christmas shows. This may have been my own interpretation and feeling down because of my own circumstances, but when Louise Bright sang Oh Holy Night and the son asked if she believed in angels, my tears flowed.
It seems that the song, I'll Be Home For Christmas also gets me choked up.

"Christmas, my child,

is love in action.

Every time we love,

every time we give,

it's Christmas."

Dale Evans

A Fashion Designer

There are a jillion ads for sports gear for women. Stretchy tights, snug t-shirts, special bras, and cute outfits for the young woman who wants to work out. The older lady has to settle for baggy sweat pants. Today I decided I would find something appropriate for my body. There was nothing. I decided to design something I could wear when I went walking because I need to take into consideration that I might get dizzy, trip or fall. Balance seems to be a problem as I get older!

"I ain't saying the customer service

in my bank is bad,

but when I went in the

other day and asked the

clerk to check my balance,

she leaned over and pushed me."

Anonymous

The first thing would be to find a helmet for my head. Something like a baseball cap but with a strong body. Knee pads on both knees because when I fall, it is usually my knees that hit the ground first. If I fall face first, I want a metal face mask and for my body a padded chest covering. I imagine that with all that protection I would be weighed down and would have to walk slower but with a certainty that if I fell my body would not be hurt.

As I pictured my protective gear I realized that not only could I go for a walk, but I could play catcher on a baseball team! Okay, I never said I could draw but you get the picture, right?

A man falls down a flight

of stairs and somebody rushes over to

him and asks, "Did you miss a step?"

"No," he answers, "I hit every one of them!"

Milton Berle

The Final Goodbye

February 21, 1963-October 29, 2016

After a loved one dies, there are certain steps to be taken. In my case, cremation came first, followed by a memorial and today will be the burial. I woke up early thinking of my son. The love that I had for my son, who I watched grow into a man, is something he will always have. Today, his urn with his remains, will be put into a grave at Mt. Olivet Catholic Cemetery, a priest will say a few words and I will watch the small vault be lowered into the ground. I know his soul is in a better place, yet the final goodbye is difficult.

Inside the vault along with the urn will be small mementos that we all put in for him so that he could be surrounded by our love. A picture of his sister's family, a photo he liked with his children at Estes Park, a cup with Andy written on the side, a blanket (one year every member of my family received one for Christmas), a video of Tombstone which he liked, a wooden soccer ball, and since he loved vacations in Puerto Vallarta a magnet and a tiny frog with a soccer ball from PV, a guitar bottle opener that on one of my trips to California I had purchased for him because he was taking guitar lessons, a picture of his Dad and Mary Ann, and because he loved seeing his son play the drums a couple of drumsticks. Maybe today, more things will be added but I do know he is taking many reminders of the love he has left behind.

The weather has been way below freezing for the past two days, but today the sun is shining and even though it is around thirty-eight degrees it feels warm. We followed a white pickup truck leading us to the plot where my son would be laid to rest. We got out of the car and trudged through snow to where there was a green artificial carpet laid out with six chairs. A small table held the vault.  A letter from his father was placed in the vault and Fr. Jacob read prayers for the burial. He sprinkled the urn, the vault and the hole with holy water. We all held hands and prayed the Our Father and the Hail Mary. I could not say the Hail Mary because I knew Our Blessed Mother had lost her son just as I had lost mine. Seeing her son suffer was so much more difficult than seeing my son go to his final  sleep in the hospital. I cried for her as well as for myself.

Through my tears I said,  "Now my son is next to my mother, father, and brother. Next to him is my uncle who was the oldest of the siblings in my mother's family. My mother was the baby of the family and they died within a month of each other. Brother and sister ended up next to each other in the cemetery." Somehow it is comforting that my son is near my family at the cemetery.

We all went to our cars, lots of hugging, and kind words spoken. We decided to meet at the Tea

Gardens in Arvada for lunch. What  wonderful friends conversing around the table and enjoying good Chinese food. After lunch, another round of hugs, and we all went our separate ways. I felt a moment of sadness when I left my son's father at his home because I knew it must be difficult for him to enter his empty house. I came home to write my blog.

Even though it was a final goodbye,

my son will forever live in my heart.

December 10, 2016

A quick run to his grave today

where two white flowers I did lay.

I knew they might get blown away

so there I stood and I did pray,

before it's time for me to head this way

I want to enjoy every minute of every day.

An Accident Waiting to Happen

When the weather is cold and I can't take a walk out doors, I walk around and around from my kitchen to the hallway, to front room and back to the kitchen. I have found that praying a rosary is about a twenty-minute mile. When I wear my Crocs, I sometimes feel them stick on the tile and sometimes I have stumbled, but never fallen.

"What if I fall?" Tim cried.

Maerlyn laughed,

"Sooner or later, we all do."

Stephen King

Yesterday, while wearing my Crocs, I was at the third mystery of the rosary when one foot got stuck to the tile and before I knew it, I saw the floor coming up at me. I twisted to the side, grabbed at a chair yet I hit the hard floor with my left knee and maybe my left shoulder. I heard the clattering of the chair as if followed me down to the floor. I have no recollection of grabbing the chair but I must have been trying to stop the fall. I do recall hitting the hard floor. The pain in my knee kept me motionless for about five minutes. "Dear God, please don't let me break a bone." I had a vision of my knee cap shattering into a million pieces. After a while, I moved my leg and other than the soreness in my knee, my leg seemed all right. I got up and noticed that my shoulder was also sore. I gave thanks for appearing to be in one piece!

Every time I wear those Crocs and do my walking in the house, somewhere in my mind I think I might fall. Yesterday, the thought ran across my mind but since I have never fallen, I continued my walking and my mind may have wandered, because the tile grabbing the shoe did not give me time to hop or skip away from falling, as I have often done in the past. I know it is a mistake to wear those Crocs yet I guess I believed or had enough confidence that I would never fall. Wronnnnng!

This morning I rubbed Arnica (a gel that I have been told does wonders in healing) on my shoulder and knee. I am able to walk and got my trash out. Putting on a jacket gave my shoulder some pain but it is bearable. When will I ever listen to hints I receive? Down deep inside, I knew that wearing those Crocs I could have an accident yet never paid attention to my intuition. Live and learn is a good motto!

"This is the way we fall.

First we lose our balance,

teetering precariously

on the edge of uncertainty,

gravity takes over.

You can't out shine gravity."

Cassia Leo

What Does It Take To Cancel An Order

Company was coming to stay with me and I did not have enough beds. Friends generously let me borrow a couple of sleeping options; fold-away-bed and a Hide-A-Way-Mat. Both worked well, without too many complaints from my company, so I decided to order an exact same fold-a-way bed. Being a Prime member with Amazon and reading about their over night deliveries, on November 26, 2016, I ordered a bed. The bed would work for two more people coming to visit on December 2, 2016. The delivery was scheduled for December 1, 2016.

When my company arrived on December 2, I had to make do with what I had because the bed had not arrived on December 1 as promised. I teasingly said, "Hey, pretend you are camping!" My hope was that the bed would arrive on the 3rd of December. The 3rd came and went and I no longer had any need for the fold-a-way-bed. On the 4th of December, I called Amazon and cancelled the order. A fellow stationed in the Philippines told me he had taken care of cancelling the bed by contacting FED EX. My instructions were to wait, when Amazon received the bed, they would credit my account. I then received an e-mail letting me know that the order had been intercepted and it would be cancelled. Mac S. was difficult to understand so this morning I contacted FED EX myself to make sure the order had been cancelled and the bed would not be delivered.

A young woman, also with a heavy accent, let me know she was not sure if it had been cancelled because the item was in-between stations but if it should be delivered I just had to send it back. I told her I did not want it delivered at all and to just let the deliver person know not to leave the item on my doorstep. She said, "If the package can be intercepted it will be stopped, but if not, it will probably be delivered." I find it difficult with all our electronic devices that a message cannot be sent and received!

My next move is to put a sign on my porch to FED EX not to leave the package because I no longer want the item. It is frustrating that one small hic-cup can turn into one big croupy cough!

Thanks to my two friends who allowed my company to sleep in comfort on the borrowed beds. I appreciate their generosity and I am sure my company did too!

"Your best t-shirt

should be like your bed;

it just feels like you are home

when you are in it."

Ashton Kutcher

A Poem Dedicated to His Wife

When someone loses a loved one, a memorable dedication of a poem helps the one left to cope with the loss. I can understand this type of release because I also like to write out my feelings. This poem was written in Spanish by a husband who is devastated by the loss of his wife.  He asked me to help him translate it into English. Though the words in Spanish seem to have more meaning and flow in a rhythmic pattern, below is as close as it can be in the English version.

It Was Only A Dream

You traveled away from me to go to a beautiful and tranquil paradise
where your body will rest for eternity.
Because of my selfishness I tried to hold you back
but was left with my empty arms extended.
I forgot that life
 Is only a dream!

Like a river that slowly dries
I feel full of resentment; my soul is shattered.
I try to hold back my sobbing that tears my heart apart.
A constant flame of loneliness
burns and consumes me!

As the years fade away, my love for you will grow stronger;
as I remember our vows.
At your side, the world was a land of enchantment.
I love your unforgettable image
 that consoles and comforts me!

Our profound love is etched in my memory,
and for you, love of my life, I dedicate this sweet melody.
That is why one day when I depart
those that will remember me
will whisper in my ear:

 It was only a dream!

Mico
November 2016

Funeral Number Two

 November 22, 2016 was my son's funeral. December 3, 2016 was a friend's funeral. Our relationship was one that many could not understand. She was married to my ex-husband and through the years she and I became friends. She passed away on the same day that my son died.

As my two grandchildren and I drove up to the parking lot of St. Joan of Arc church, I could tell by the cars in the parking lot that it would be a large funeral.

The entry was filled with men in dark suits and women in heels plus everything in between. Two large picture boards representing my friend's life, a book to sign, a program letting me know who would be involved in the mass were on a table. The memory cards showing her as a young nurse and with a prayer to St. Anthony, who was her favorite saint, were in a basket for anyone who wanted one . She had named one of her sons, Anthony, in honor of St. Anthony. The pictures on the boards, which I helped prepare, let everyone get a glimpse of what her life had been.

The fluffy white clouds on a blue sky behind the altar gave me a feeling of being in heaven. I have attended mass at the church but do not remember the beautiful back drop. In front of the altar were three bouquets of flowers, my friend's picture and the urn. The urn was a pot created by my son and I had never seen it. A warm feeling entered my body as I looked at the urn and knew that my son's hands had made the pot. How happy he would have been to see his pottery being used for his remains and for my friend's remains. A few years ago, another close friend used one of my son's pottery as an urn also.

Fr. Nathan, the pastor at St. Joan, celebrated the mass and the pianist sang Amazing Grace, Ave Maria, I Can Only Imagine and Wind Beneath my Wings during the mass. The readings were read by  her younger brothers. My daughter and son-in law carried the gifts to the altar and a brother gave a eulogy about her life growing up. I did not know she had played softball and moved to Colorado because she enjoyed skiing. "In Colorado she met the love of her life in a young soccer player and never returned to Missouri, her home town." Her degree was in nursing and she retired from St. Joseph's Hospital in Denver. After mass everyone was invited to a reception at Sons Of Italy Hall in Wheat Ridge, Colorado.

The delicious food of a mixed tossed salad, seasoned roasted chicken, marinated beef, whipped  potatoes, and cookies for dessert fed over 125 guests. I met new people, talked to friends from my past, saw family members, and enjoyed doing what I enjoy; photographing many of the guests!

Some of the persons I talked with came from South Carolina, Kentucky, Missouri and California and they all had come to bid their farewells. It was a beautiful service in a beautiful church and a wonderful reception with family and friends. I am sure my friend would have been pleased with her husband, her handsome sons, many members of her family and friends who had gathered to wish her a fond farewell.

Rest in Peace, lovely lady.

"That we once enjoyed and deeply loved

we can never lose,

for all that we love deeply becomes part of us."

Helen Keller