Death takes a holiday (Six Word Saturday, 3/27/10)

"Death takes a holiday - after Monday."




And then this was my Twittascope for today. Oh, how so accurate Internetz? I'm thinking there is a Magic 8 Ball somewhere out there, or they have my phones bugged. Hmmm ...

You may feel as if you've been running on autopilot lately. It's not that you aren't aware of what's happening; it's just that you are spontaneously making choices while you are still in motion. However, you might modify your style today because you want to be more conscious of why you are deciding one thing and not another. Logical analysis can be helpful as long as you don't turn it into an obsession that disconnects you from your intuition.


Some of you know already that immediately following the death of our 18 year old cat last Sunday, I got word that my 44 year old nephew had died suddenly from a heart attack. He went to use the restroom at work and never came back.

I received a call from the woman he was renting a place from, she found my number in his cell phone. The irony of it all is that the call came exactly one year to the day from when he called me to tell me he had been released from prison. When he was 20 he was sentenced to life for felony murder for his drunken participation in a stupid robbery gone horribly wrong. His older brother turned state's evidence against him in exchange for a lighter sentence. In spite of expert testimony to the contrary, he was convicted.

He was a little slow, he was easily led, he was a follower. He was a good man in spite of it all. He was my late sister's baby, and his father (my sister's ex) stopped taking his calls from prison. So did the brother who put him there. After she died in 1994, I was all he had left. I sent him money when I could. I sent him towels, underwear, and candy at Christmas, and a Bible the year he asked for one. I wasn't a saint, sometimes I didn't take his calls either and never mind how I feel about that now.

He was paroled one year and four days before I got the call this week, after serving 23 years. He had a job at a metal works company. He had a cell phone and learned to text. He bought a car and paid cash for it from what he had saved while on 6 months of work release. Most of all, he had a surrogate family that had adopted him years earlier. He grew up with one of their boys and they kept in contact with him this whole time. He was renting a place on their property when he died and they are heartbroken. Until this past November, I hadn't seen him since Christmas 1980 just after my first son was born. He was 15 and I have pictures of him holding his new baby cousin. When we went to see our Marine Son™ at Thanksgiving I knew I couldn't pass back through Savannah without trying to see him. I called him and we met for coffee at a Waffle House just off I-95. We spent 45 minutes just chatting and looking at each other and he was bent and broken. Before we got back on the road to home we took pictures, and by then I could begin to see the kid I'd known in his eyes. He was in there and he was going to be okay. It struck me too, how much he looked like and was built like, my father. When we got back in the car I cried for miles and miles.

The last time I heard from him was a text last month: "Hey, Love! It's snowin'!"

Since Tuesday I have been planning a funeral long distance. I have called and waited for calls from medical examiners, funeral technicians, one attorney who won't release his cell phone and wallet to me until we can prove that the brother is nowhere to be found. "Suppose he shows up and sues the job site because we gave his things to you? He's really the direct next of kin." Sure, of course. Legally I get that. But then please explain to me why I should care? He hasn't been heard from since my sister's funeral in October 1994. His dad and mom are both deceased, so that leaves me to pick up the pieces.

After I direct the cantata tomorrow, Palm Sunday (twice, we're doing it at both services), we're hitting the road for Georgia. His service will be Monday afternoon at 3:00 in the church where he had found a spiritual home. After his cremation, I'm going to scatter his ashes over his mama's grave. He talked so many times about wanting to come back to Florida to see where she was buried. I think he'd like that, and I know she would.

Rest in Peace, Tom. You've earned it.

The story of a scrawny little house cat.

Beast, 1991 - 2010

I picked her out of the litter on Halloween when she was four weeks old. She was pretty much the runt of the bunch, and we made plans for my sister to bring her to me when she came down for Thanksgiving. You see, she was born four hours away from here, to my sister's neighbor across the street. We had recently lost Stinker to the traffic on our block and I was (not really, I swear!) looking for a kitty to take his place. I was up there visiting so I called the hubby and I could almost hear his eyes rolling across the miles when he sighed and said "sure, okay."

My sister informed when when she brought her into the house four weeks later that she had yowled for the entire drive. That right there should have been a clue. We named her Little Bit, because she was, but over the next couple of months she became "You %$#@* beast" because she was a biter and a scratcher and quite a nasty little monster.

Except to my husband. She had a soft spot for him, and would curl up in his lap and purr, and later on would sit on his chest in bed and rub her nose against his chin to "give kisses" on command. Then she would walk to my side of the bed and bite me.

Her name was eventually shortened to Beast, or Beastie, and she ruled the roost. She was a bit of a hussy, and when she was just a year old managed to find herself in the family way thanks to a big, long haired black cat down the block. She was so tiny that it was pitiful to watch her drag herself around, great with child. Umm ... kittens. In late January of 1993 we left the house to do music for a funeral, and she was acting oddly. This was all new to me so I really shouldn't have been surprised when she met us at the door a few hours later, saggy-bellied and no longer pregnant. She led us to the kittens which she had decided needed to be born three shelves up in the linen closet. On my Christmas tablecloth.

There were four of them, and in a few weeks we moved them (tablecloth and all) to the home we had just bought. They were adorable and a friend's sister came up and helped us decide who was what. We ended up with Opus, a male, (almost all black like his daddy and the cartoon strip penguin); Tootles, another male, tiger striped and named for the character in "Hook"; Smudge, a female, also long haired black and white with a "smudge" of black on her mostly white face; and Mr. Smee, also named for a character in "Hook". You can see what our favorite movie of the time was. Imagine our surprise when 'he' turned out to be a 'she'. We dropped the "Mr." pretty quickly. Tootles and Opus eventually wandered away, as boys are wont to do, and Smudge went to kitty heaven in June 2005.

That left us with our two old girls, mama and daughter. Neither one had any use for the dog we got a year ago so they have been living in their own private suite since then, aka our bedroom and ensuite bathroom. Beast took to sharing my pillow at night even before we got the dog, and she loved to sleep on my heating pad. So did I, so some nights it was a struggle. She started being nice to me, and I swear it was a form of kitty dementia, or else she just decided that after 18 years it wasn't worth the hassle any more.

In the past several weeks she began a rapid decline, and by Friday night wasn't able to get around much at all. We put it off too long, and the vet was already closed, but decided that we would take her this morning and have her put down if she made it through the weekend. She didn't. Hubby found her late afternoon yesterday, cold and still. I had said my goodbyes several times already, not knowing if the next time I went to check on her whether she would still be with us. The daughter had, too, I found out later.

Saturday night before bed I talked to my sister. It's only unusual in the fact that she died in October of 1994. Anyway, I talked to her as I cried and told her to please take her, and be there when she crossed over. When hubby found her yesterday he told her to wait for him and save him a place in line at the Pearly Gates. I'm sure she will, just as I'm sure she's already given my sister hell for putting her in a box and driving her down here all those years ago.

Eighteen years. That's a darned good life for a cat even if it wasn't nearly enough. I miss her so much and the tears just won't stop. I know they will, but right now? I've lost a family member.

Rest In Peace, Beastie.

Unconscious Mutterings: Week 373

Unconscious Mutterings was just what I needed this afternoon. I always enjoy reading other replies to this, because inevitably there are one or two words that make me slap my forehead because it was something obvious that my poor little brain didn't grasp.  Here are the words for this week, and if you'd like to play along you can grab the code over at Lunaniña's site.

I say ... and you think ... ?

   1. Burrito ::
   2. Spike ::
   3. Tougher ::
   4. Mock ::
   5. Slurp ::
   6. Knock ::
   7. Conference ::
   8. Madness ::
   9. Minds ::
  10. Connection ::


And here's my list of mutterings!

1. Burrito ::  Taco Bell
2. Spike :: vampire
3. Tougher ::  than nails
4. Mock ::  turtle
5. Slurp ::  ee
6. Knock ::  three times
7. Conference ::  call
8. Madness ::  insanity
9. Minds :: over matter
10. Connection ::  internet

Hear me roar!

I found my orchids!

When we bought our house 14 years ago you could actually see the fence line in the big side yard. Sadly, it has grown over with hanging branches and vines and other tropical delicacies such as bugs and the occasional snake. Well, I decided I'm tired of it and I'm not going to take it any more. *insert un-ladylike foot stomp here.* So last week I bought a weed whacker, $30 on sale at the home of Blue Light Specials, and today I bought a small lopper.  I even bought some nifty, pink, girly garden gloves to save my hands.

And then I took out every frustration of the week on the branches, and weeds, and the vines, and--

And then I looked down and found the orchids that used to grow wild beneath the trees. One of them was blooming.

(click for larger)


And this is what I made from it.

Sphere art!



To add to my accomplishments today, I answered a little writing challenge. You can find it here, at Dust Jacket.

Wednesday, but not wordless!

My, oh my, what a wild 24 hours it has been!

First there was talk of my good friend coming down from Toronto for a visit in May or June. Then there was the rumor of our favorite boyband doing a concert a mere four hours away on June 1st, then there was talk of combining her visit with the show and maybe taking in a theme park, too, and it was glorious plotting and planning! And now today there is unconfirmed talk of another show right here in my home town. The day before the other show. *squeal* And yes, these two old ladies are crazy enough to do the local show then drive north the next morning to catch the next show. And then stay over and hit the theme park.

Insanity is awesome! You only live once, and we plan to enjoy every second of it!


Ok, I said 24 hours of news. There's more, you ask? Well of course there is!

Our daughter was accepted into the Performing Arts High School that she auditioned for last month! Her acceptance letter arrived in the mail yesterday, along with another acceptance letter to the Communications Program at yet another school. Combine that with her acceptance into the Bio-Medical/Environmental Studies program at a third school, and you have one proud set of parents. :)

Her heart is really with the performing, so that's where she'll be going. I'm so excited for her! I was singing and playing piano all through high school and I know what it's like to love what you do. She'll be great as long as she accepts that fact that she has a lot to learn. Oy, that's going to be interesting.

Ah well, that's what we pay the teachers for!*




*Don't hurt me, I was a teacher too, lol.

Unconscious Mutterings: Week 372

My mutterings for today are down below. You can get the code for your own blog here at Lunaniña's site.


Here we go!

I say ... and you think ... ?

1. Children ::
2. Saddlebags ::
3. Restraint ::
4. Awake ::
5. Blood ::
6. Shutter ::
7. Posted ::
8. Corn cob ::
9. Flagrant ::
10. Fart ::


And here's my list for this week.

1. Children :: three
2. Saddlebags :: horses
3. Restraint :: holding back
4. Awake :: don't. want.
5. Blood :: guts
6. Shutter :: speed
7. Posted :: no trespassing
8. Corn cob :: pipe
9. Flagrant :: violation
10. Fart :: pew!

Sing, sing a song

In so many ways it seems like yesterday, although it wasn't. My Senior Recital in college was 33 years ago today. I was a Music Education major with an emphasis in voice (you can read about that saga here) and as such, had to present a recital in order to graduate. I have to laugh in looking at the program below. 8:30 pm? Isn't that awfully late to start something? I suppose when I was 22 it wasn't. *g*

Click on the image below to see the inside of the program. I shared the bill with a sister from Sigma Alpha Iota, the women's professional music society. (We were not a sorority, just ask any member. *g*)

Six Word Saturday (3/13/10)

Leading music - both rewarding and exhausting.


Hubby and I led the music for the Southeast District (FL) Methodist Women's annual "Day Apart" today. Good size crowd, and we were graciously received. We have been asked to be music leaders for the weekend retreat in September that encomapasses the entire Florida Conference. As tokens of appreciation, we both received service pins from the District today with a nice certificate.

Foto Friday #7, OORAH!

I'm deviating from the archive photos today in honor of my son. He's our middle child, and he left yesterday morning for an 8-month deployment in Afghanistan with the US Marine Corps. One of these days this, too, will be considered an historical family photograph.

Godspeed, Steven.

Crossroads

I sit here thinking about today's post and I can't help but recall the old song, "Girl, You'll be A Woman Soon." While the lyrics don't at all mesh with what I'm thinking (I'm not a boy pining for a young girl, after all), the title just won't let me be.

Our daughter, our baby, has mere months left before she leaves behind her safe life at the K-8 school she has attended since Kindergarten. She will be in the scary world of High School next fall and while it may not be scary to her, it scares the hell out of her father and me. We won't be two minutes away from the school any longer. There won't be faculty and office staff there who have known her since she was 5 and have always looked out for her. There will be older friends with cars and other temptations, teachers who don't know the girl that we know inside out. There will be pressures that even she can't begin to imagine at this point in her life no matter how worldly-wise she thinks she is.

She is our baby, our surprise child. Let's be honest, after our two boys reached the ages of 15 and 9, and the husband and I were 41, a little girl wasn't at all the retirement we were planning in just a few short years. We have maintained for all of her 13 years now that she is a blessing, a gift, and we mean it wholeheartedly. I can't imagine our lives without her. She's tough. She began life 8 weeks premature, and weighed in at a whopping 3 pounds 7 ounces. They called her "the dancer" in the NICU unit because she never stayed still; they had to swaddle her just so that she could rest and conserve her energy. Her love of dance has always been there and no I won't embarrass her by telling the "table dancing" story from when she was 2, but it was a classic moment in our family story bank.

She has applied for several magnet schools in the area, for their drama programs. She has been rejected for one and we are still waiting to hear from another, but this morning we learned that she has been accepted into a magnet program for Bio-Medical and Environmental Studies. Pre-med. While her father and I blinked in disbelief and laughed, I can't even print what her response was. She applied and attended the open house because it would look good on her records. Even looking over her grades, they still want her. Go figure. And I don't mean that in a negative way at all, I'm just being honest here.

Yes, she can do anything she puts her mind to and I have no doubt she could do this, too, if she sets her mind to it. She is our child, she's brilliant. And talented. And beautiful. And funny. And sensitive. And---

And she's growing up way too soon.

Foto Friday #6

I found this photograph in my files today, and as a result have spent the entire afternoon trying to find my old Family Tree Maker genealogy files. They're here somewhere, put away for safe keeping. *sigh*

Edit: I found my files, was able to install FTM 6.0 and open the family records. I've been adding things from the link down below. 

This is Sarah Alderson Woodson, the mother of Emma Virginia Woodson Gillispie, making her my maternal great-great-grandmother.

Aug. 14, 1822 - July 22, 1898

I found a wonderful link today, to this entire line of my ancestors!
Here is the list for Sarah.

Wordless Wednesday: Planting birdseed

(Yes, I know it's Thursday, shush!)

This is growing underneath our bird feeder in the front yard.

Visit Wordless Wednesday

I'm a Beautiful Blogger!

I have so many thoughts spinning around in this tiny old brain of mine. Our son and his wife just left after a whirlwind visit, the daughter was sick yesterday (food poisoning is no fun, even less so when you're 13), mercy. The mental list goes on and on. So imagine my surprise and utter delight to find that Hannah from The Thought Bubble had shared the Beautiful Blogger Award with me!



I don't blog regularly, I don't have a theme of any kind, I'm terribly random ... So why me? I've no idea, but I'm so grateful. It really lifted my spirits when I was lower than low. Now here's the fun part! As a requirement for accepting the award I am to share seven things about myself that my readers might not know, and then I'm to pass on the award to ten other Beautiful Bloggers! Ten? How can I choose ten???

All righty then, first up - Seven Random Things About Moi

• Although I was trained as a music teacher I was briefly licensed as a hair stylist in the state of Illinois.
• I always wanted to be the lead in a musical production, but was too shy to really put myself out there.
• I can't really believe that I'm 55 years old. Isn't that the new 35?
• I would dearly love to visit the Pacific Northwest. That's on my bucket list. It used to be the rocky coast of Maine, but the hubby took me there for a second honeymoon in 2000.
• Singing lead with our Praise Team at church is the fulfillment of a childhood fantasy. Wait, you didn't want to be Petula Clark when you were 10? Now I have a real microphone and I don't have to be careful of how loud the stereo in my bedroom is.
• My first cat and my daughter share a name. Except that my daughter's name doesn't have "Precious" tacked onto the front.
• Oh my, I do have one other thing but I can't share it yet! *g*

And now for the blogs. I had to take a deep breath, close my eyes, and just choose. There are so many fabulous blogs out there, but these are my ten for this time.

Mind Over Mullis - I want to be Amy when I grow up. Well, at least I'd like to write like Amy when I grow up.
Popping Bubbles - Popping Bubbles is fun, down-to-earth, and I just love reading about her day!
Why Not - Right? - Cylithria is a writer, former Marine, and if you need someone in your corner you couldn't ask for anyone better. Ooh Rah!
Anissa - What can I say about Anissa? She is a miracle. Her husband is doing her blogging for her as she recovers from two massive strokes this past November. Go. Read. Take some tissues with you.
On a Limb With Claudia - "Claudia Hall Christian is a beekeeper who writes novels and serial fiction." After a tag line like that, how can you resist?
I Read Banned Books - I never know what to expect from cajunvegan and that's definitely a plus!
The Robinson's Lily Pad - Froggylady is the wife of a Marine. I'm a Marine Mom™, so it's a perfect fit! She crafts, too, so whee!
Curly Kew - I've known her for almost ten years and she is funny, she is frighteningly honest, and above all, she is real. 'Nuff said.
I'm Sweet Enough - Teresa is a tough (sugar-free) cookie! This is her brand spanking new blog to chronicle her journey as a recently-diagnosed diabetic.
C. Beth Blog New to my reading list, but fun! Check her out!

Now it's your turn! If you choose to accept this award, simply pay it forward. Tell us about yourself and choose ten other bloggers to receive the award.

In the job description

I was all set to sit right here and write out some Monday Musings and then it hit me. Today is Tuesday.

Well shoot, y'all. My days are all mixed up. We've had house guests ("We're not guests, we're family!") since last Thursday and my normal boring routine has been filled with chatting with my son and his wife and keeping our monster dog from squishing their little dog out of sheer enthusiasm. Ours is a 102-pound shepherd mix while theirs is a 14-pound Lhasa Apso. Fun times, you guys!

We have visited family, partied, celebrated his temporary homecoming and other things, visited friends, eaten out, eaten in, picked strawberries, gone to church, driven down to the Florida Keys for lunch, winced when we realized the daughter probably has food poisoning from it (it will be a long time before she eats another chicken wing in a restaurant), and prepared for one last dinner out tonight at the home of my oldest son.

Whew!

It has been a bittersweet whirlwind of not-quite a week. In the two and a half years he has been in the Marine Corps, he has stayed essentially the same good-natured kid I raised, but I find I no longer know what to have on hand for him to eat. And being a polite not-quite-guest, he was no help. "It doesn't matter, don't worry about it."

Hello? I'm a mom. I worry. It's in the job description.

They are leaving tonight to drive back to North Carolina so that he can report back to base on Thursday. Next week he and his unit will deploy to Afghanistan for 8 months.

Hello? I'm a mom. I worry. It's in the job description. (repeat ad infinitum)

I have faith. I trust God and his buddies to keep him safe, I really do. I know that as a sharpshooter with expert ranking he can do a pretty good job of keeping himself safe. But ...

Hello? I'm a mom. I worry. It's in the job description. (repeat ad nauseum)

It's a lifelong task, this job of mine to worry about my kids. I don't always say much about it but it's there, as any other mom will tell you.

I wouldn't change the job description for anything in the world.