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Nennie, that is so funny, well not totally funny of course, but I didn't see it coming. Thanks for sharing. :rofl
My mom was a stroke victim. Her specialty was calling us names of other people in the family or words that were similar sounding but had very different meanings. My poor daughter was always confused as my mom was like that for most of her life!
We had already experienced an aunt going through alzheimers so we knew what to expect so when mom did funny crazy things we could see the humor in it and not get bent out of shape.
I think it's so hard when you're going through it, that you don't see any humor until you've had some time.
Recently I read one of those lists about how to tell if you were Italian and one of them was that your mom (grandmother, aunts, etc) would never sit down to eat after cooking for everyone. Then it hit me because I realized that just like my relatives, I don't sit either. Am always getting something for someone, adding this or that, never sitting long enough to actually eat. Never realized it before. :lolQuote:
Originally Posted by Bunny555
Guess it's pretty common.
My thoughts are often with you, Bunny555. :heart
Went to the cemetery with my Dad to visit Mom. On the way back, we passed the Hoover St. offramp. I said "a lot of good memories of Hoover". As soon as I said it, I thought...oh really? Such as? The only thing I could think of was a now closed hamburger stand, Jay's Jay Burgers, that was on Santa Monica Blvd., right near Hoover. My Dad gave my a funny look, and I said I was sure he was wondering what the heck I was talking about. He told me that the first place my folks lived in as newlyweds was a little duplex on Hoover. Mom had a sweet message for Dad and used me to deliver it. Not the first time, either. A few months back, my Dad lost his spade somewhere in his backyard. He was wandering around the yard for three days looking for that spade. When I visited, I joined him in the search. I headed to the back of the backyard, right to a pile of old, rusty railroad spikes. I picked up a spike, and asked my Dad if I could have one. He looked a bit surprised, but said "sure". I was wondering why I wanted the rusty old thing, as I headed to the far end of the backyard. I went to look behind a wall of stacked bricks that leads to a small space behind his garage. There was the spade. It was out of my reach, as I leaned over the bricks. The spike I had in my hand was the perfect tool to move the spade closer, so I could grab it. I told my Dad that Mom found it for him. She couldn't take another day of him wandering around looking for something he never would have found, as he said he never would have looked back there. Once it was found, I put the railroad spike back in the pile, as I never wanted one of them to begin with. The best we could figure was that he laid the spade down on the bricks, and a cat must have knocked it off. Mom used me to help out her beloved.
Our loved ones are not with us physically, but they are most definately with us.
Love you Mom. :heart
Wow - thanks for sharing, Lopevian. I believe you are right on why you wanted that spike. I feel for your dad, too. He must be lost without your mom. I know my dad felt the same way. He still does, to a degree, although he met someone really nice who keeps him in line. I like her lots and am glad they are together.
This is the holiday season where so many of us miss our moms more than ever. I will be having mimosas in the morning in her honor to kick off our holiday. I have many fond memories of my mom on Thanksgiving, working to make a meal for 20 or more people. We would help, but she was definitely in charge! I take a more lighthearted approach, but then again I don't have 20 people coming into my house.
RIP Mom...I miss you. And I feel for those of you who have shared your stories. And those of you who read about our moms and understand how tough it is because you are feeling a similar loss.
Yes, Cootie, he is lost without her. But he's also found strengths he never knew he had, and I know that is a great comfort to my Mom. So glad to read that your Dad is doing well, and has met someone, and especially glad that she is nice and that you like her. Wishing you a very wonderful Thanksgiving! Enjoy your mimosas, along with all the trimmings. :cheek
Lopevian,
THat's a beautiful story.
Your Dad is very fortunate that he still has you. :biglove
Happy Thanksgiving to you, norealityhere. :cheek Actually, my Dad told me he's a bit annoyed that his wife of 58 years will not contact him directly. I repeated to him a line I heard in the movie "The Orphanage" ("El Orfanato") that resonated with me..."seeing is not believing, it's the other way around". Believe though he may, I think his pain is still just too thick for Mom to get through. In the meantime, I welcome any messages and/or tasks Mom see fit for me to deliver. :heart
Thanks for that great story, lopevian. I loved it so much I read it to my husband who lost both his mom and dad last year. Then I called my sister and read it to her. Our mom, who passed in 2001, sometimes gives us an assist, too. :)