So, my sister got mom the Trac phone, finally. I called my mom to wish her a happy birthday and got voicemail. Which could mean any one of a multitude of snags, but it boils down to this: my mother is unreachable. My friend,Marci, put it this way: when you have a mental illness that goes untreated and then you layer dementia into the picture, you have a person who can't communicate. The truth is that my mom has been diagnosed with a mental illness and she refuses to have it treated. This is nothing new. Nor is it new that I pine for the mother I've found in Gert. Somehow, instead of saying to myself, I am loveable-a once total stranger took me under her wing- I look at all of those same things I can't get from my mother. It makes me sad to see her slipping away further than she's been before. Having the easiest and most obvious way to reach her be unavailable to me illustrates how out of touch with her I am.

She has a land of make believe explanations in her head, a way to order her life that makes sense to her. In her mind she has someone to love her- the mystery man who was going to marry her to save her from Assisted Living and who now plays "light games" with her from somewhere near the porch of a neighbor's home. She pays someone to take her out to lunch and take her shopping. She pays for their gas, for lunch and for things the woman's family needs- like a loan for the son, glasses for the driver, yet gets onery when one of her daughter's tries to help her. And nothing we say was ever right and is even more so now. Strangers always know better than member's of her own family.

I wish I could strap on a pair and just let her be how she is and detach from the things that she can't give. Maybe I'm no better than she is. Just because my depression is treated and I don't answer the door in bra and panties while I crush on someone forty years my junior ( lock up your ten year olds!) doesn't make me superior to her. Though obviously on some level I feel that way because it occurs to me. Like my mother, I have fantasies of how I'd like life to be. The biggest one involves her, and is centered around having a mutually loving relationship in which we give and get what we need from each other. Letting that fantasy go makes me tired and sad. But I must let it go, as it has already left the realm of possibility without me.

Blessings abound

One of the most delicious thing about having a connection to the Internet once more is being able to chat with friends I've made on line. Tonight I caught up with a friend on line. It is just so satisfying to chat with someone.  I like having friends. 
  

I have a Facebook page. For a good while, I had it under a pseudonym. Recently, I decided to put my own name on the page. I wanted to touch base with friends from high school. But mostly, I wanted to be more my Self.  I don't know if that makes sense to anyone. Only recently has it started to make sense to me. Sometimes I feel that who I am is defined more by my roles as mother and nurse than by the opinions I hold or my own particular slant on the world.

A friend of mine has asked me to dream the next half of my life. For so long, my life was defined by not bringing up my children as my parents did me. It took a lot of work on my part, mostly to learn to keep away from the short fuse that seemed to keep my mother's closed hand meeting my face.  I think I did a good enough job with my sons. Yes, I'm sure I could have done some things better, but I believe my children know that I love them.

I have spent a lot of time in my life apologizing for who I am, for the traits I have. I no longer want to be ashamed of some of those parts, and so I work harder at loving who I am at this time in my life. I love the time I spend with my husband, and so I choose not to pursue the education as a nurse practitioner that I once thought I wanted. I am lonely for loving contact with my mother. She has chosen not to have a telephone for the last several months.  My sister is my only contact I have with my mom, other than cards I send. My mother does not send cards back, is at this time, I think, incapable of doing so due to her memory issues.  Instead, I spend time with my friend Gert. She turned 84 yesterday. My mom turned 82 today. I celebrate Gert's life in a way I cannot celebrate my mother's.  I am grateful for Gert's love. Many years ago, she declared me her other adopted daughter. I am reveling in that claim and spending time with a woman who could have been my mother.

Part of my new life is loving having a daughter-in-law. I am delighted at Beloved Firstborn's choice of partner. They seem well suited for each other.  What I am most surprised about is how right it feels to have Fyxen in the family. I like having fresh estrogen in the family.

late night rambling. Time for bed. Blessings abound

Better day at work today. There was no working furnace at work for a while. And the interior construction proceeded with only a modicum of sawdust in the air.  Much preferable to the air quality from the painting the day before. I'm thinking the FQHC where I work has been chosen for some secret government study on multiple stressors and the average worker's ability to cope. Happily, it was more an abundance of phone calls and insurance issues and not so much emotional trauma.

The Chief has the fire going and Lora is stretched out on her back on the green couch, snoring. I think I shall join them.

Blessings abound

Sometimes work leaves me wanting at the end of the day. Sometimes I understand why people go postal in their work environment. Sometimes I don't understand how any one could take their own life. Today I held the middle-aged mother of a suicide victim as she cried out her anguish on the one year anniversary of the death. I tried to calm her, tried to slow her breathing to a more sustaining pace. In the end the only actions that seemed to help were those of holding and letting time have its way with the emotions. Or were the emotions having their way with time/ Either way, it felt like a long time of standing and holding. Encouraging and supporting. And wishing at the same time that I wasn't the one doing that job. I felt her despair in my chest. Felt the darkness from her heart. I know this sounds dramatic. I wish I could take the heavy feeling off my chest. Eventually, calmed she went home with her husband.

By then the snow had started to fall and I really desperately wanted to go home. But there were more messages to answer, problems to solve, appointments to schedule. I did what I had to do and then came home. Home to a loving dog and a faithful husband. Dinner was relaxing. The dog reassuring. The house quiet. Now it's time for bed.

Blessings abound

Cake. It isn't just for dessert anymore.
I made a Priscilla cake last night with chocolate frosting. While it wasn't the prettiest cake I've ever made, it sure  was tasty.  I had the last of it for breakfast this morning with two cups of coffee. Not the breakfast of a woman dedicated to losing weight.  Now the thing is gone and I won't be making more. I'm pretty sure, anyways.   Lately, I've been on a bit of a baking kick. Lemon coconut cake for a birthday at work. Sour cream coffee cake, again, taken to work.   But this Priscilla cake with chocolate frosting- one of my favorites and only made for The Chief and me. I adore the flavors of butter, sugar and vanilla. Chocolate brings a perfect balance to the mix.

Meanwhile, a quiet Valentine's Day for the two of us. The Chief is outside splitting firewood and making kindling. LoraBoraLabraDora is burying her toys in the snowy yard.  Two grey squirrels are mounting an attack on the cylindrical bird feeder hanging from a tender sapling at the edge of frozen Frog pond.  I don't have to leave our mountain sanctuary for any reason at all. This makes me peaceful and happy.

Blessings abound

Nothing says,"I heard you" like salad at supper. One of the things that bothers me the most about The Chief is when he cooks and the menu items are meat and a starch. Not always potatoes, but sometimes noodles or rice. The man can be versatile with his starches- sometimes he'll even throw in some corn or peas. The other night when faced with a meat and potatoes plate and no vegetable I was a little crotchety and threw a little tantrum about the NO VEGETABLE policy he was enforcing. Today he went shopping and there was salad for supper. There was even radicchio in the salad mix. Big green olives with minced garlic.  Tomatoes. Julienned carrots. yummmy.

I bought a little peeler that made julienne segments out of what ever vegetable is on hand that will lend itself to that kind of artistry.  I worked at it, and may I modestly say I sucked at it. Being the Domestic God that he is, The Chief whips out perfectly julienned slivers of carrot. He is a marvel with that tool. And I thank him from the bottom of my heart because it pleases me so.

Blessings Abound

I really have to ask myself: how far am I along in my personal development if I feel the need to announce to the world in any format how evolved I am?  Probably not as far along as I'd like to be. I have a page on a social network site. One day I received a invitation from someone regarding getting a million people to show their support for gay marriage. I'm certainly pro gay marriage. I think it's a civil right and have no problem showing my support whether it be through voting, writing my legislator or responding to a harmless invitation on a fairly benign social networking site. I posted it a couple of days ago and really didn't give it much thought. Today I found a comment from a very conservative friend.  This friend and I differ quite a bit in our politics and religious views. I tolerate her views and opinions because there are other things about her that I like and enjoy. The comment she left in response to this posting? " Why would anyone waste their time with this?"  I know that she is scared of homosexuality, believes it is sinful and deviant and has no tolerance for it in her life. My responses as the day as progressed have ranged from reading her comment and dismissing it to wanting to make an unkind remark about the waste of time I sometimes feel some of her pursuits are. But I respect her choices because she's my friend and because I thought we were a bit more mature.  So one of the ideas I had today was to ask her why she would waste her time commenting on said waste of time? But that's unnecessary because I know why she commented. I also know it wouldn't take much on my part to turn this into an incendiary discussion and the end of the relationship.   The thing is, I don't want to be incendiary, but I do wish to post things on my little page under my name without worrying about other people's feelings.  I feel that when my friend responded, she did not take how I might feel into consideration.

This brings me back to my somewhat pompous presumption that I am more evolved than she because I did not respond to her. But then I think, hey, maybe I could just say because I support gay marriage and Freedom of Choice.  I usually stay quiet and not express my opinions on these matters because I don't feel the need to proselytize anyone over to my view point.   I think this is bothering me more at this time because a)it's late and I'm tired and b) this simple response to my posting makes me see how frail certain aspects of this relationship are revealed to be.   This saddens me. I have prided myself on my ability to be in relationship with a variety of different people with divergent viewpoints.  Perhaps I have not been clear enough with some about being friends and respecting differences of opinion. Perhaps with my tendency to avoid areas of disagreement I have mislead this person.  After all, I am respectful of her opinions. I certainly don't tell her what the less courteous part of me thinks are wastes of time on her part. I will say what I have to and let things settle where they may. It will be sad to sunder a relationship. Bugged by this as much as I am, I still hope the things we have in common are strong enough to overcome differences of opinion.

Blessings abound

Another good day in the life of me. My Snaab remains in the garage. They were going to "bring it in" today. I did not hear from them, so I'm trying not to perseverate on what I imagine will be an exorbitant bill due to lots of clakkity clakkity ripping metal engine damage. Doesn't sound at all as if I'm obsessed, does it? I've been doing pretty well not worrying about it.  I'm driving Gert and Herbert's 1995 Dodge Caravan. I'm calling it Fenway, after the Green Monster. It's green, has need of a muffler and it built for comfort not for speed. I am counting my blessings to have this car at my disposal. I've definitely been spoiled by my Snaab.   I can do without a lot of it's luxury in a pinch, but I do miss my radio. Tonight I was glad for the peace and quiet away from the office.  I was only craving the radio a little bit less than I had been on the way into work. Hadn't gotten the days dose of doom and gloom from the radio. On reconsideration, it was better to be listening to the deep sounds of a dying muffler than to be hearing the latest pledge drive on public radio or the local Fox station's news. Fair and balanced is better replaced by peace and (not so toxic) quiet. 

I'm wishing we had some of the snow here that the mid-Atlantic states are getting. We're in a little bit of a snow drought here in the Green Mountains. I'd love to have us get a nice dump of twenty inches or so. The maples need the coverage for the upcoming sap run. My blueberry bushes always do better when the snow cover is deep and lofty. The water table would also benefit. And now that the snow blower is fixed- it was not working during Erik's recuperation- it will be much easier to handle the snow then with the frequent scraping technique usually employed for clearing the driveway.  I have a much deeper appreciation for how The Chief keeps up with the shoveling in the winter now than I did before he was recuperating from surgery.

And speaking of The Chief, he is recuperating nicely. He has a little centipede of a scar from navel to symphysis pubis. There are three other wee scratches on him from where they inserted the instrumentation for laproscopic colectomy.  His navel is no longer puffy and swollen. His stomach is much flatter than it had been before the surgery. He still tires a little quickly, but makes gains every day.  I am so grateful he is still here on the planet.

Blessings abound

I can't begin to tell you how good it feels to once more have a functioning computer at home.  Or how indulgent it feels to have Premium again. These are very happy making things in my life. No more furtive peeks at work, feeling as if I'm stealing from my employer, even though my supervisor told me it was ok to use the internet for the occasional personal use.

My trip to Oregon to visit with the kids was wonderful.  I have a new daughter in Becca and am thrilled that she and Dylan are happy. Mason was there, too..  It was wonderfully good to have the gift of time with them. It was so very hard to come home and leave them there. I also realized that I'm not having much fun in my life when I'm away from them. I have pledged to myself that I will celebrate more joy in my life and pursue it actively. One of the areas that brings me joy is posting to this blog and reading the blogs of friends made here over the years. Another area where I've let joy slip away is in the listening of music at home. When I return home from work, I am so hungry for peace and quiet that I have stopped playing CD's.  So I've loaded the CD player with Loreena Mckennit and have her playing in the background. She wants nothing of me save to listen and appreciate. I can do that.  I've also bought a new box of oil pastels and plan to rub them into my finger tips to draw with my hands. I like the soft, smudged look of the work made directly with my hands. It soothes me.

My fifty first birthday was celebrated joyfully. I treated myself to coffee in bed with cards from Erik and a few friends. It was a delightful way to start the day.  There was trifle at the office and nothing too taxing about the day. On the way to dinner, my beloved Snaab made a horrid grinding nose of metal on metal. She didn't want to move further. Fortunately, I had heeded the voice in my head that said, " Bring the cell phone." A tow was arranged. A nice State Trooper came by to check on us and left two big birthday candles behind the Snaab, merrily flaring out behind the car. Then the Sheriff's deputy on duty stopped by to make sure we were warm. Finally, Ceredwyn came by to take us home. Erik had made a chocolate cake for my birthday- probably the biggest surprise of the day!.  

Saturday, I went to see my friend, Gert.  She is now a widow of one week. Her husband, Herbert, passed away ten days ago. They were wed when she was eighteen and had been married sixty six years. We took Herb's van to Burlington and I went shopping with Gert. She really took her time and seemed to enjoy herself. She was appalled that she had forgotten about my birthday the day before. Such a contrast to my own mother, who hasn't renewed her phone since July. I have sent her cards, but no response has been forthcoming. She refuses to pay her phone bill.  She says she didn't choose Fairpoint, the company that bought out Verizon, so she's not paying for it. Nor does she seem interested in getting a replacement. She just goes to the neighbors' houses and borrows their phones. All this is via my sister who says we would be enabling mom if we bought her a cell phone or paid the bill. I've let it go. Still, I was touched by Gert's distress that she had forgotten the date. She has in the past done a better job of remembering my birthday than my mom has.

I'm off to surf the web and read blogs. Blessings abound.

There's a new computer at home and I am connected to the Internet.  Opportunity to blog and see others at leisure at home. This is a wonderful Blessing!  More later.

Blessings abound