How adults say goodbye is different

My friend Ellen was wielding the camera during my dad’s funeral and burial.  She caught this shot, which I just love.  Here it is…the last touch the kids will ever get of their grandpa.

However, the story doesn’t end there.

Before the casket even got out of the hearse, KP was standing at the edge of the very large grave, peering over the edge to see indeed how big that hole was and wondering what was going to happen next.  Like maybe he might even fall in.

After the burial service, as people were dispersing, the kids asked how the casket got into the ground.  Which quickly turned into, ARE WE GOING TO SEE GRANDPA GO INTO THE GROUND????

I quickly shot a look to my mother that said, you ok with this?  And with her nod of approval, the funeral director got the tooth missing, butt crack showing grave digger to come out early and lower my dad into the ground.

As they were watching in amazement, as the box went deeper and deeper, they each grabbed a flower from the arrangement on the casket.  And once the casket was in, they asked if they could throw in their flowers.

And with great gusto, as only little kids can get away with, they started throwing flowers into the hole and onto of the casket and belly laughing as they did it.

My mothers parting words were, “Your dad would have loved that.  The kids circled around him and the final thing he would hear, their laughter.”

And with great gusto…

My sister-in-law Shannon found out last week that she has breast cancer.

She is amazing with her quiet resolve and fortitude to persevere.

In light of everything that is going on, she and my brother are facing this hurdle with great grace and style.

Here was the email I received today:

Hello Everyone,
As some of you know, Shannon is going in for Breast Cancer surgery on Friday.
So to kick things off right, let’s get together at the Leaning Tower of Pizza in Uptown on Thursday night.
Happy Hour kicks off at 4 until 6pm.
We will be having fun and merriment.
Some of the things that could happen are…
*Guess Shannon’s new cup size!
*Pin the new nipple on Shannon!
*See if Shannon will show us her soon to be eliminate left lady!
*And many other fun and exciting things to be figured out on the fly!
We would love to see each and everyone of you.
If I missed anyone, please forward this msg.
Thank you for your thoughts in advance.
Tom

p.s. if I freaked anyone out with the levity of the email, Get over it.  :-}

If you can make it out on Thursday night, do.

Come and raise a toast to Shannon!

Spinning plates

I like to think of myself as the master plate spinner, keeping them all going in a whirl over my head.  A delicate dance that not many can do well.

And last night, when KP walked into the kitchen and BARFED all over the kitchen floor, they all came crashing down.

That was my limit.  I instantaneously  felt the tidal wave crash over me, knowing my night would be a long one filled with back rubs, little sleep, vomit clean up and butt wiping.

Along with trying to keep my house healthy, are thoughts around my dad coming home from the hospital tomorrow.  My brother and I will be taking shifts sleeping over and visiting during the day while my mom will bare the brunt of the load.  Life will change for me, my kids, Adam.  Everything needs to shuffle, everyone needs to help.

As much as I want to spin this plate and make it look easy, it just isn’t.  This plate has a life of it’s own and I can’t keep it from falling, but I’m sure going to try to hold it up for just a touch longer.

And it’s free

I love this photo.

Looking at it, you really have no idea where it was taken.

What I see is my Dad, my son and my lovely brother.

This photo will always remind me of how this Christmas seemed just a little different than the rest.

What this photo doesn’t tell you, is that my brother just gave my dad the greatest gift in the world by going to Christmas Eve mass with him.  That gift elicited tears of joy from my father before, during and after church.

It cost nothing and he didn’t even burst into flame!  I did have my camera there just in case he would.  How cool would that be?

Adam and I gave CT a simple sweatshirt.  He didn’t ask for it.  It wasn’t anything particularly amazing but he loved it non the less.  As we sat at the table Christmas morning he thanked me for the sweatshirt, for about the fifth time.  He was truly grateful for this gift and wanted me to know how grateful he was.  At nine, we saw it.  He was honestly grateful.  Not just telling us thank you because he knows he has too.

Tears rolled down my cheeks at the table as we passed the rolls.  His gift to me…his honest gratitude.

And the last of the gifts that made a difference this year were the letters.  My dad hand wrote letters to everyone and so did Nana and Papa.

Nana and Papa wrote each person a Christmas note that reminded us of our own unique special gifts and just how much they appreciate them.

PJ’s read:  A purposeful disposition, physical strength, an organized mind, an enterprising spirit and the love of her family.

CT’s read:  A very warm heart, a sound body for sports, creativity in thought, inventiveness and the love of his family.

KP’s read:  Big eyes and a smiling face, fast afoot, powers of concentration, the will to help and the love of his family.

These are gifts that maybe only an adult can love, but as an adult I must say, the generousity of thought and love that went on this year was amazing.

In the spirit of the sweet baby Jesus

Yesterday the kids and I brought a tree to my parents house to decorate for them, for Christmas.  This turned out to be one of those labors of love that I would have rather stuck sharp rusty nails into my eyeballs than have to do again. I did not go as I had planned, any of it.

After 7 hours, 3 stores, a trip back to my house, lunch out, 2 snacks, 1 lost dog and three tree stands later, my mom and I stood by the decorated tree and laughed.  The stroke that I thought I was having around 3:00 subsided as the white wine washed away the throbbing temple pain at 7:00.

We continued to laugh as I explained that this was suppose to be no effort for them, just joy and ease.

We laughed even harder at the pot the Christmas tree ended up in, filled with sand and rock and the fact that the tree still DID NOT stand real straight.

We laughed harder still when I reenacted my bout of Coprolalia that occurred during this most lovely tree trimming event.

Then I almost spit out my wine when my oh so sweet mother said,

“Yeah, I found myself saying fuck the other day.  And then I said to myself, FUCK you better FUCKING stop saying the word FUCK!”

And I couldn’t stop laughing as I asked her if I could blog what she just said.

Have I told you recently…

how much I HATE cancer?

It’s insidious, crafty, cunning and sly.

It doesn’t care who you know, how much you are loved, how much money you make or don’t or what holiday is coming up next.

It has entered into our lives, taken hold and will not even for a moment relinquish control.

The game it plays is a funny one.

It takes it’s turn, maybe even two turns at a time (it doesn’t care much for the rules) and then we take our turn, almost always lagging behind but non-the-less trying to move ahead, catch-up to it and maybe even out smart it.

It’s a hard game to play.

And if you’re not the player, it is a hard game to watch unfold before your eyes.

My dad continues to play his version of the game.

His next move includes radiating two sections of his spine, starting next week and ending three days before Christmas.

Oh how I so desperately wish I could draw the card that allows him to pass GO, collect $200 and WIN.

Old Time Sunday Dinner

I’ve always loved the idea of sharing Sunday dinner with family.  The visual I get, is of this Grandmother figure with thick Polish sausage sized fingers, stirring her pot of homemade love and the rest of the family wrapped around the kitchen helping, talking and sharing what the past week held for them.

A couple of months or so ago, Adam and I talked about starting family dinners at our house.  With my dad’s ever present illness, it took us about two and a half seconds to come to the determination that Family Dinner was a fabulous idea.

So we have kicked this off with a few twists.  #1.  The meal must be simple (or reasonably simple-I have a tendency to make things much more complicated then they need to be). #2.  Come as you are (showered or not, sweats or slacks).  #3.  We have kept the numbers down for ease, so only Grandparents are invited (sorry siblings maybe you can make a guest appearance sometime).

These Sunday’s at 4:30 pm have come to be precious to me already.

Of course, it is all selfish and self-serving.  I want my kids to learn to sit at a nice table, enjoy good food and listen to stories their grandparents tell and spin tails of their own.  I want to plant the seed of family, caring, being there for each other and simply enjoying life together.

Here’s to hoping.

32 all over again

Happy Birthday Nana!

You are the only woman I know who can take a Friday the 13th birthday and make it magnificent!

Love you!

Climbing out

Good golly, I’m sot sure what has happened over the past few weeks or was it just a week or maybe a day?  Ok, I guess I might know what has gone on, but it is a little hazy so bare with me.

The trip to Ohio was great!  The highlight for the kids was the pool at the hotel on either side of the trip and the artificial hips and pace makers they got from my cousin who owns five funeral homes.  There was a good amount of time spent at funeral homes.  Oh yeah and then there was “Clyde’s Funeral” that the kids (and my parents) played out and we got it on CD.  How do you get that on CD do you ask? Well, I come to find out that people steel stuff off of dead bodies during wakes.  So what is a funeral director to do, but put in hidden cameras to catch all the sheenangens.

In all my great smugness of being THE BEST DAUGHTER ON THE FACE OF THE PANET for having brought my parents and three children on a 28 hour car trip to see The Relatives, on the way home I got sick.  And I remained sick, with fever and cough, for SEVEN days.  I just know it was God’s way of taking me down a peg or two, you know that smugness I referred to earlier?  However, PJ got sick too.  Upon reflection, she does need to work off some of her evil ways, so she wasn’t spared either.

During my week of ill, I was crawling out of bed trying to help Omar plan a fairly substantial event called Darkness Day at Surly Brewing Company.  If you did not make it out this year, you should certainly try it out next year.  The food, bands and of course beer were amazing.  So by Saturday, the sick was gone and the party was on!

This week has been filled with catching up on all the other things that happen when three weeks of your life have vanished and you actually forget what your name is and what day it is.

Hi I’m Mary and today is Wednesday Thursday.

Middle of somewhere and nowhere

Last week we got the news that my dad’s cancer has spread to his liver.

It was the first time, in the past 2 1/2 years, that I “lost it” in the room with the doctor and my parents as she shared her fine news.  As I continued on with my award winner performance, the doctor said in her oh so very cold oncologist trying to be warm and trying to help kinda way said, “At least he’ll make it through the Holidays.”

WHAT?  AT LEAST WHAT???  ARE YOU KIDDING ME…WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?  The voice in my head was screaming.  As I calmed that voice, I found my voice saying, “He better fucking make it to Easter!”

Yeah, the F-bomb and crying and new metastasized cancer all in one visit.  That was something.

So with the kids off of school for a week, I decided to throw out the idea of a road trip to my parents at Sunday dinner.

And tonight, after a 10 hour car ride filled with movies, candy and 326 Johnny Cash songs, I find myself sitting in a pitch black hotel room in the middle of Indiana, listening to my three kids snoring away and my parents sleeping across the hall.  We are on our way to Cincinnati to visit my dad’s sisters, my cousins and my dad’s old friends.

Oh the stories we will bring home.