A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Insanity

Okay. Here's the deal. My mom is no housekeeper. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Matter of fact, I'm pretty sure the house she lives in right now (my dad's old house, legally my house) is about ready to be condemned as a health hazard. Think "How Clean Is Your House" in the devil's lair. My mom's house makes those houses look like hospitals.

Anyway, we were in my mom's bedroom, looking through this cedar chest thing that I wanted. Inside are heirlooms of my grandmother's. The typical fare. Pictures of people I don't know ("To Aunt Edna and Uncle Roy, Love Bernita. Class of 1963") A little glass flower basket decoration with "Edna" written on one side and "1924" written on the other. By the way, Edna is my paternal grandmother. This chest thingy also contains my dad's first pair of overalls, in a condition like they were just bought. His baby pictures. His first pair of shoes. All the cards he got when he was born, a year old, two years old, three years old...(What a scream!! One generous soul gave him a nickel for his birthday.) I digress. There are things laying around that I can't even identify. Things smooshed into the carpet. There are shredded newspapers and shredded boxes laying around. And when I say shredded, I don't mean in minor disarray. I mean shredded into dime-sized pieces. There are cigarette butts laying around. Amid the cigarette ashes. By the 9 year old phone books. Next to the magazines from '83. Around the spilled stuff. Close to the feet-smelling blanket that I think came over on the Mayflower.

I am disgusted by this point and kinda want to throw up in my mouth a little. The thought of actually having to LAY DOWN on that floor makes me kind of dizzy in an unpleasant sort of way. So I really start scaring myself...."What if I had to lay down on that floor??? And, and, and cover up with that blanket?? And, what if that cat pee smell actually killed me dead??? And, And, what if I had to take a bath in that TUB???" That's a whole other story.

So, there I am feeling sick about this health hazard I call my "summer home" and we decide to go into the bedroom because I want to salvage this cedar trunk while it's still alive. Mom decides it's a good idea to take everything out of the trunk first, because, you know, I should see it.

In there are these bizarre pictures of Abraham Lincoln and George Washington that my grandma "Edna, 1924" apparently got from a bank somewhere around the year 3. By this time my brother is in there and we are both laughing so hard, we're pretty much drooling. I said, "God, do you think someone GAVE these to grandma? Like for a birthday present or something?" My brother laughed and said he hoped not. I said, "Well, if someone would have given these to me back when they were presidential candidates, I would have said, 'Is this the best you can come up with?'" I thought my bro was going to pee himself. For some reason that struck him funny. Then...

My mom is bent over, rummaging through the cedar chest thingy. She's got it propped open while she's pulling out this god-awfully ugly set of dishes. I am still on the presidential pictures and my brother is muttering "is that the BEST YOU CAN COME UP WITH?" I happen to glance over to my mom

just

as

the

lid

closed

on

her

head.

That's right. The lid closed on her head. She looked at me kinda surprised and said, "Well, what the hell?" I paused about 2 seconds and immediately burst into such laughter that I actually LAID DOWN ON THE FEET-SMELLING BLANKET. I had to. I was falling down from going boneless. Before you think I"m a total sadist, let me mention that she wasn't hurt. Not in the least bit. It shocked her more than anything, but the look on her face, accompanied by the "bonk" the lid made when it closed on her head was priceless! So, by this time I'm REALLY slobbering, and my brother is about having a seizure. He's still saying, "Is that the best you can come up with?" I am not breathing at this point. I finally catch my breath and tears are rolling down my face.

I don't even know why this struck me so funny. Maybe because she didn't get hurt. Maybe because of the look on her face. Maybe because of the state of the house. I just don't know. Maybe it was because I had just looked at pictures of my dad, back when he was healthy, and I was feeling missing. Maybe because she laughed, too. More probably at how hard I was laughing than anything. It was an emotional release and I needed it.

Love,

Angie
2005

Leavin' On A Jet Plane

In a couple of weeks, my husband and I are flying to Chicago to see a Bears game. We're flying out on a Saturday and will return on the Monday after the game. I'm not going to sit here and pretend I've had a premonition or a bad feeling or any other kind of juju stuff, because I would be lying. I am, however, NOT pretending by being a practical person.

It's time for us to determine what will happen to our daughter if something happens to both of us. God, I've agonized over this for so long...But, legally, it's time to make arrangements, should something (God forbid) happen to both of us. I was totally lost after my dad died, and I was 31 years old! Can you imagine something like that happenening to a child? God, I don't even like to think about it!

But, my practicality has won. Nobody likes to think of their own demise. I'm no exception. But, I have learned the hard lesson of being prepared and what happens when a person isn't. I won't fall into that category. I refuse.

I have no doubt in my mind that there would be a few takers for our daughter. I have had several people, when I brought the subject up, volunteer. My worry is that enough people would vie for her that there would be a fight or a custody battle, or something that would offer her no stability in a time when she would need it most.

There are a few of possibilities. I wouldn't mind my in-laws raising her, but seeing how they are in their late 70's, it would not be possible. I would like my aunt Terri to raise her, but her kids are all grown and she is partially raising her 9 month old grandson. I wouldn't mind my other sister in law, but she's a single woman with a demanding job, a leisure travel schedule, and a 15 year old son. My sister is a single parent of a 5 year old boy, and she works constantly just to support him. I am the oldest grandchild on my side of the family, so there's not even really any other possibilities on that side.

I try to think, if something did happen, what household would be most like ours. Something that wouldn't take an enormous amount of getting used to (besides the obvious). Something that would offer stability and comfort and steadiness.

Enter my brother in law and sister in law. My husband's sister and his brother-in-law (her husband) are going to be our choices. First of all, and in no order, they are financially stable. He is a doctor, she is a stay-at-home mom to their nine year old adopted daughter. She is also a pediatric critical care nurse and works part time at my brother in law's office as his nurse. They have a beautiful house here in Lincoln. They have a daughter close in age to our daughter, and I don't think it would be so much of a stretch for them to raise my daughter, too. It's not like it would be a 15 year age gap or anything. They go on family vacations and believe it or not, refuse to fly anywhere together all on the same plane, because they don't want something happening to the entire family. I used to think that sounded so crazy, but now I don't.

I don't know if it's because I've had experience with death or what, but it is very important to me to get this legalese taken care of. I have assigned my husband the task of bringing it up to his sister. I know she will have to check with her husband and I wouldn't want it any other way. I just don't trust my emotions to hold out if I had to be there to ask. It's hard to get the point across when you're sobbing like a baby. And, I have assigned him the task of also detecting any nuance in her expression, voice, body language, etc, that would make it seem she doesn't want this monumental decision on her shoulders. At the slightest sign of "I just don't know", I am out of there, making other arrangements. I don't want to go to my grave thinking that the care of my only child was an imposition on someone. I would have to come back and haunt!

I feel like I'm stuck in a hard place here. I know all my aunts had provisions made, in case they left minor children behind. But, the benefit they had was that all the sisters were so close in age as to not have it be weird to take on another child. After seeing how my grandparents' lives were changed after agreeing to raise me, I cannot in all good conscience, wish a huge age gap on someone else. I KNOW all my aunts/uncles would jump at the chance to raise my daughter if something happened to us, but in the sound interest of their own sanity, I cannot allow it. Not when I have time to make sure that custody wouldn't be a surprise emergency.

Do I have doubts? Sure. I worry. I worry that a family (no matter who it is) would find it hard pressed to include another family member into their fold overnight. I worry that someone wouldn't warm up to our daughter as their own child. I worry our daughter would become a modern day Cinderella, forced to do chores for bread and water. I worry mostly about someone not treating her as their own. I don't worry about these things for any particular reason, mind you, and definitely not towards a particular person. They are just worries that I'm sure EVERYONE making these arrangements has.

There are no guarantees. And, as a person who likes to have complete control over everything, that is hard on me. I want to know FOR SURE that things will all work out for the best, in case we'd have to use this provision. But, nobody can guarantee that. I am extreeeeeeemly comforted by the fact that my sister in law and my brother in law treat their own daughter like a princess. I don't have to stretch my imagination too far to think of them treating our daughter the same way. Plus, they've always wanted more kids, so HEY! Perfect chance!

And if they say no? Then they say no, and I'm glad I found out. I go to the next person on my list. Someone who I'm sure will offer our daughter stability and safety and love and the proper schooling. Clothing, a roof over her head, bread and water on the table, all those good things.

If something happens to my sister, I am designated as my nephew's guardian. I would raise him as my own. I guess that's all I ask. I don't need huge houses, trips to Disneyland, and a fairy-tale playroom. I need to know someone will treat my daughter as their own. I want her to be introduced as their daughter. I want them to be sure she knows us, even though we'd be gone. I'd want her to feel like she could ask about us, and look at our pictures, and also be part of us and the family we have, even while being part of a new one.

Okay, I'm totally depressing myself, so I need to quit blogging about this. I sometimes wish I weren't so God Damn practical. I guess not thinking about these things doesn't make them not happen, but Geez....It's hard to think about ! I'm sure the trip will go fine and we'll be back to our normal family life as soon as our plane lands in Omaha. But I will fly a little easier knowing that we took care of things. And, if I have to look down from Heaven, as my dad has said can be done, I will see our daughter in a fairy tale playroom, fitting in perfectly with her new family.

Act One Scene One

Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep, I got this very strong longing to see my dad. To hear his voice. To be near him. I asked God to tell my dad hello from me and that I missed him so much. The anniversary of his death is Thursday and things get pretty bad for me around this time. Duh. Anyway, in answer to my prayers, I had this dream last night.



Act One Scene One

It's someone else's house. I am sitting on a cluttered couch, next to a cluttered side table. I am on the right side of the couch. My dad is to my left. I am very happy to even see him sitting there. I decide to ask him some questions and, being a Taurus, want to write them down.

Me: Hi, Dad!

Dad: Hi, there, Kid!

Me: I can't believe you're here. Can I ask you a few questions? And, this time I'm going to write them down so I remember your answers for sure. Is that okay?

Dad: Ask away!

I get a piece of paper out of my Trapper Keeper. I am writing with a colored pencil.

Angie: Okay. First of all, do you know how much we miss you?

Dad: Of course.

Angie: Okay, next. Do you know how much we love you?

Dad: Sure. That doesn't go away.

Angie: Really? You take it with you?

Dad: Absolutely.

Angie: Cool. Okay. Next. Do you know your grandchildren are growing up fast and that they miss you almost as much as I do?

Dad: Yep. I see you every day.

Angie: What??

Dad: I look down and see you guys every day.

Angie. Really! Neat! Next question: Did it hurt to die?

Dad: Not at all.

Angie: What was it like, you know, "crossing over".

Dad: Jesus met me.

Angie: Are you serious??? Jesus Himself?!?

Dad: Yeah!

Angie: Dad, I love you so much and I miss you enough to almost kill me on some days.

Dad: I know you do, but listen...I see you every day. I can see everyone every day. I'm always here for you.

Angie: Always?

Dad: Always.

I turn my head to face straight ahead and look out the corner of my eye without turning my head. Dad's still there, laughing at me. I turn my head really fast to the side, like when people turn around really fast, hoping to catch someone behind them. Dad is still there, and by this time, looking at me like I've lost my mind. The third time I turn to look, he's gone. My notes are still there. I find it funny that I didn't ask him about Heaven, seeing how he rolled his eyes at me the last time I asked him how Heaven was. I've asked him about 137,029 times. He was getting exasperated. :-)

I take these dreams very seriously. I know the difference between dreaming about my dad, and having my dad come to me IN my dreams. They're two different things. He was communicating with me in my dream. And, I feel better knowing he sees me every day. God love him. Even funnier is that he has the same mannerisms in my dreams as he did in life. When dad used to tell a tall tale, he would put one leg over the other and pick imaginary lint off his pant leg. He was doing that in my dream!!!

Thanks, Dad. Thanks God.

Things about my Grandma

She was born on January 16th, 1930 on a farm outside Exeter, NE.
She had 14 brothers and sisters.
One time her parents forgot her in town. (with that many kids, I can see how).
She raised me.
Whenever she bought me something, she would hide it behind her back before giving it to me.
When I broke up with a boyfriend and moved back home, I slept in her bed for six months.
She still remembers that.
She loves crossword puzzles.
She one time fell over a roll of carpeting in her house that was being used to redecorate and broke her ankle in nine places, requiring surgery.
She's a devout Catholic.
She has seen everything.
She has heard everything.
One time, when doing my laundry over there, she held up a little bustier/negligee type thing of mine (during my wild, pre-marriage days) and said, "Do you wash this in cold water?" I could have died.
She still gives us all $5 for our birthday.
Her mom and dad have been gone since the early 70's and she misses them every day.
She had a stillborn baby. Her last baby.
Loves to watch TV.
Hates conflict.
Loves Nebraska Husker sports. (Especially basketball)
Could eat chicken every single day of her life.
We used to go on walks together every night when I was in middle and high school. She once told me that as a kid, I wasn't afraid of anything.
She wants to pay us for helping her clean her house.
Has 17 grandchildren. I'm the oldest one. The youngest one is 30 years younger than I am.
She stays with my aunt Colleen every year during Christmas, for several weeks.
She has epilepsy.
One time I took her to the Vet's hospital to see her brother, who was critically ill. She walked into the room and said, "Paul, do you want to pray?" They prayed and he died a week later. A few years after that, another of her brothers was in the Vet's hospital, also dying. She barged in and asked if he wanted to Pray. They prayed and he was gone a week later. I told her to stay away from the Vet's hospital.
She used to tell me stories all the time of her and her brothers. Not so much her sisters, but her brothers. I love those stories. One time, we went to her brother's house and he told the same story she did. I laughed so hard I about wet my pants. That brother also died. He was younger than my grandma.
Her reward in Heaven will be so great, that it will be ridiculous for me to mourn her when she's gone.
She has a wonderful sense of humor, often depreciating, but often acknowledging the fact that she's 75 years old, and isn't going to go dancing soon. ( She never fully recovered from that severe ankle break).
She walks with a cane most of the time.
She just started having panic attacks for some reason.
She always calls to tell us she's "been thinking about us all day." Especially on our birthdays.
If she doesn't call on my birthday, I panic.
She does not like to cause conflict, or be around conflict, and stays out of any family discord we might have with each other.
I wish I could still live with her.
Did I mention she raised me?
Who am I kidding. I will miss her so bad when she's gone.
She's not afraid to die. She told me that.
She has made all of her family vow that they will NEVER put plastic flowers on her grave.
She had such a severe appendicitis attack when she was 18, she almost died.
The thought of being without her at some time makes me sick.

Heartbreak, Decision Making, and blowtorches

There have been times in the past seven years of being a mother when I look back and say, "Yep, I knew I was a mother when..." I insert different things like, when I held out my hand to catch my daughter's barf one time when she was suddenly sick, when I wiped her nose with my fingers and then wiped it on my pants. When I stayed up all night, wide awake as if in a caffeine induced jolt while she battled a 105 degree temperature. When I cried when she went to preschool, and kindergarten, and first grade. Just all those things where you KNOW you're a mom.

I've said, too, that I would rather someone punch my daughter in the face than hurt her feelings. Although I would prefer neither is done. I can remember one time when she got left out of a birthday party and cried most of the day from the sheer disappointment of it. I wanted to run across the street to the culprit's house and at least kill them. I don't think I've ever been so angry in my life. They hurt my daughter. Hurt her in a way that she will probably never forget. Not that it was a devastating blow, mind you, but even now she'll sometimes bring it up. More as a "remember when" type thing, but it shows that it's obviously still in her mind.

Many times I've held my tongue as she fought her own battles. How else would she learn? It's one of the most painful things a parent has to do. Sometimes I'd really like to speak for her, think for her, act for her, do for her, but I know that she'd end up being such a wimp in real life that it would be pathetic. I had to fight my own battles, and I'm glad I did. It made me who I am today. (Good thing?) Have you ever met anyone who can't make a simple decision to save their lives? They're annoying! And useless.

Anyway, one of those moments came to me again today. I was driving home and was about a 1/2 block from my house when I saw my daughter on the sidewalk, just standing there. There is a house at the end of the street that has two new kids to play with. Two new boys. As I drove by the house and saw my kid, I saw that a bunch of the neighborhood kids were over at the new kids house, playing in their driveway. I mean, lots of kids. My daughter was about 20 steps away, just watching them play. I saw the uncertainty in her eyes and...well, I started tearing up. Kind of like I'm doing just typing it. I know it sounds so petty. "Okay, your daughter was standing on the sidewalk. Ooooooo. How depressing." But, it's not just that. It was that hesitation of "will they let me play? Will they like me? Will I like them?" I saw that hesitation and that uncertainty and I wanted to just hammer slam the brakes, skid sideways, jump out of my mobile and say, 'PLAY with her!" But, I didn't. I drove really slow (she hadn't seen me yet) and saw her make the decision to approach the mob. She did so with gusto, and for that I was so glad. When she did see me, she threw a casual wave over her shoulder while screeching with the girls from across the street.

See, I remember being the hesitant kid. I remember approaching new people hoping nobody would ask me why I lived with my grandparents, and where was my mom and dad, and why were we poor and why was I raised in such a strict house. I was the chubby kid in garage sale clothing who was very self conscious.

When you see your kids at their most vulnerable, it's downright sad. You wonder what's going through their head, although if you asked them, they would probably say, "Nothing." Great answer! But you can see it in their eyes. And, maybe you've been there yourself. Hesitating on the edge of the crowd. Uncertainty creeping in..."if I just walk away and go back home, will they notice?" I hesitate to think of the future battles, if things like this get to me.

Sometimes my daughter will be just sitting there and I so want to know what she's thinking. Is she sad? Happy? Angry? What's she thinking about? A person? School? How she thinks the neighbor boy is cute? They're creating their own world, relying on us to guide us in the world space we occupy, but nevertheless creating their own. One I eventually won't be as big as a part of.

I can only hope that I'm guiding her correctly. I try to teach her all the right things, but who of us hasn't thought they've failed at some point? I think stepping back and letting her live life is the best thing to do for her. (Within reason, of course. No playing with blow torches.) I teach her compassion, caring, independence, resolve, love, fairness, and courtesy. Am I missing anything? Of course. I think we all do. But, we all slog through the best we can. We can only hope it's good enough.