Monday, October 29, 2012

Who let the dogs out....?

Daddio's band had a gig playing for a Halloween party this past Saturday. He went as the GEICO caveman and for once in his short life, he felt comfortable in a costume.

So comfortable was he, even in the preparation of this event, that his jovial, prepared self invited any and all of "us" to come join the fun.

Marmie and I had plans to hang out, meaning that the two of us needed costuming.

If there is one thing I inherited from my mother, it's the knack of being able to think up some goofy Halloween costumes on the fly.

A couple of years ago Daddio and I had gone to a Halloween party dressed as teen thugs...  the "costumes" fooled some close family members.

(In their defense, the party was in the dark back yard and Daddio and I kept a low profile as we mingled...)

I decided to recreate this old favorite...

I borrowed an old pair of Bear's baggy jeans and some boxer underwear from the neighbor kid.

The jeans were large enough for me to yank em down around my hip bones with the "porkies" sticking out the top.

Marmie had a like pair (although with her 4'11" [on a good day] frame she had about a foot of extra material pooled on the bottom, I sloppily rolled it up a few times..giving her an extra goofy look.

We be saggin...



For the top half, I wore an old shirt of Bear's ( I swear...I don't recall Bear being a thug, but you know what they say about the third kid and the pacifier on the floor, same principal I guess when it comes to dressing your baby...the first one gets the Carters and the OshKosh b'gosh and the third one get the gun garb and the spikes...shrug)




Here was Marmie's look....


We added some neck tats...





Some flashy footwear and a couple of chains...



Marmie and I got to our first party...it was held in a community center where there was also a wedding reception going on at the same time...the parking lot proved to be pretty funny. It was quite dark and Marmie and I kept our skull and cross boned bandana wrapped heads tucked chin to our chest low..

In the bathroom of this facility the classy dressed female wedding guests wouldn't make eye contact with us.

Not sure if they should pull their purses closer or laugh....

One never knows, even on Halloween.

When we got to the club where Daddio was playing we walked in and stopped at the check-in table, again with our hat bills tipped downward...

"Should I card em?" a man standing near the table asked the seated woman taking the entry fee.

I glanced up at her from under the bill of my hat...

"NAHHHHHH" she said after getting a good look at my mature face.

Wanting to be really authentic before we left I took a picture of the two of us with my I phone (of course it was taken where else?? in the bathroom...tee-hee).

I told Marmie to put on her toughest face...and we would have pursed our lips and made gang signs if I could have thought of any...






PS...Joyce Ann thinking of you (as always this time of year). What are you going as...???

PSS...to any of my old friends and family reading this, quick, where were you 30 years ago today??

Give up?

Daddio and my wedding.

Happy Anniversary to us...

PS...Daddio..you make my heart sing and my old legs dance, still.

xoxo

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

A universal rating system...

Soaking in a hotel hot tub in New Mexico, Marmie, my dear step-sis (the best travel companion ever) and I shared easy conversation.

We were alone in the tub, but soon were joined by a young woman who'd just (effortlessly) swam about a hundred laps in the large swimming pool located next to the jacuzzi.

When she was done with her swim she climbed out and walked over to where we sat.

I couldn't help but think about the the movie "10" and actress Bo Derek. There is a line in the movie trailer that says something like "In a world where women are rated 1 thru 10, this one is an 11."




With a wide smile and a cheerful "HI" she climbed in.

The four of us sat and traded small talk.

We learned she was there with her grandmother.

The two of them on a road trip for her grandmother's 70th birthday.

They were in New Mexico to see the Albuquerque International balloon fiesta a "have to"on her grandmother's bucket list.




Being a "Grandma's girl" myself, I ate up every word this pretty thing had to say about her wonderful relationship with her cool grandma.

I totally got her.

She talked about her work and her family. We learned that she had three sisters, one of them her identical twin.

There is something to be said about the beauty of youth.

The flawless skin, the bright white teeth, the perky everything.

I had an instant of wishing for a fountain of youth.

When it was time to go we said our goodbyes and headed off toward our rooms.

"Good lawd that girl was pretty" I said to my sister (not that stinkin no good fer nuttin Susan, the other one, the good one, the one who reads this blog)

"Seriously, she was stunningly beautiful" I continued.

"Yeah" she answered "and can you i-ma-gine that there are TWO of them running around on this planet !!??"

Talk about kicking a girl when she's down (around a number -2 and counting backwards).

Happy Tuesday to you.

Thanks for visiting this blog.

xoxo

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

"24" revisited....

The 16th of October always brings me a (HUGE) bit of anxiety.

The day my brother got into a motorcycle accident that took his young life.

This October 16th marks the 24th anniversary of his death.

Which means that today he's been gone as long as he was here.

In order to allow others to feel my pain I say things like "Bear, can you imagine losing Googie or Prince Buttercup? Googie is 24, the same age as Uncle John was when he left us, could you imagine life without her?".

He frowns at me and shakes his head.

This puts things into perspective for me too.

Because sometimes I feel like it was so long ago that maybe I'm not remembering things right...

Things like how close we were and how HUGE his loss was.

I don't doubt it, ever, its just that the passage of time has a muting effect.

So when I ask Bear about Googie I feel like I've been punched in the gut.

I know what it is to love a sibling for 24 years.

That's a long time to forge an awesome relationship.

And an even longer time to miss it.

PS...Yo, bro John, I sooo know you would read this blog if you were able, can't say the same about that bimbo sister of ours. There are so many times I wish you could be here to gang up on her with me. I miss those days, and she is long past due a real good ass kickin... just sayin.



24 years in Heaven, you lucky dog, you! xoxo






Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Auto pilot...


The Princess Buttercup lost her mother on Friday.

The suffering had gone on so long that a merciful passing was the prayer.

According to witnesses, in the minutes before she drew her last breath, she raised both her arms.

She stretched them to the Heavens.

In a strong, sure voice she proclaimed, “I’m going home”.

What a gift to my bonus child.

And to my son who witnessed this passage, gaining a renewed belief.

God is good.




I'm typing this post sitting on an unfamiliar bed in a strange town (Elk Town? Oklahoma) right dab in the middle of my road trip. I'm sick at heart that I can't be with The Princess Buttercup and the family at this time. 

I'm with my mom, holding her tighter than usual.

The funeral is this morning, please say a little prayer for a dear princess and her heartbroken dad.

Thanks...
xoxo




Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Preparing for takeoff....

My daughter in law's mother is dying.

Actively dying as I type this post.

I've never met such a fighter, or someone with such a good attitude about the shitty "cards" she's been dealt.

She worked a lot longer than most people with stage four cancer do.

She smiled a lot longer too.

I'm ashamed of myself that I didn't get to see her more often.

It's really really hard and I'm a wuss.

I'm also ashamed to admit that truth about myself.

I bought a recordable story book that I wished I could have had the nerve to take to her house.

I've had it for over a year, I bought it when I learned how sick Princess Buttercup's mom was.

The book sits on a dresser in our computer room, right in plain sight, it daily reminds me of all of my shortcomings.

Be brave, live life.

Part of living is dying.

"Just do it" the book says to me.

Every single day it says to me "you are running out of time".

Our children, Buttercup and his Mrs. don't have children yet, my plan when buying the book was so that Princess Buttercup would have a story book, being read by her mom to share with her future children.

It was a grand plan.

And in a perfect world it would have been perfectly executed by a emotionally strong, healthy friend of a dying woman.

Obviously, she was not me.

My daughter in law's mom is awake every 4 hours or so. Hospice has instructed them to religiously keep on the medicine schedule.

These days it's all about pain managment.

Excruciating pain that causes agonizing screams if too much time passes between doses.

My daughter in law is too young to lose her mother.

Then again, every child of every age is too young to lose their mother.

I have to muster up all my courage to visit today.

This time there will be no saying "maybe this next treatment will help".

Mustering up the courage to say goodbye is nothing in comparison to my friend's courage in leaving her daughter and husband.

She has no choice.

That breaks my heart.

I want to tell her what a good girl she raised.

And selfishly I want to ask her to tell her daughter that it is okay to let me love her and care for her like a mother does, that it won't be disloyal to her.

I have to put on my big girl panties and my game face.

Googie said to bring the book.

Be brave,  live life.

Thank you for listening.

Monday, October 1, 2012

One whole week....

It's been a week since I've posted on my blog.

One whole week.

I apologize if you dropped in to read a sec and was disappointed.

I read a couple of blogs religiously and when I click on their space over and over and over again in the course of a week (and sometimes loooooonger than that even) and see the same ol post, I'm not gonna fib, I get irritated.

I think to myself what a frickin lazy azz, what in the hell can that woman be doing that she can't update her blog, does she not understand that there are people coming here looking for things to read, pictures to gawk...? Is there not some kind of contract betwixt writerandreader...? Who can I call to tattle on her? Her sponsors, the ones located on the sides of her blog posts...hmmm.

I usually pretty quickly come (back) to my senses and think... yikes, I have no sponsors.

And who in the hell put the peanut butter in the fridge?

Now what was I thinking?

Life is taking some interesting turns.

In the course of one week...one of my favorite blog writers has not posted.

And neither have I.

I still return, hopefully, every day to inquire if she's returned.

I hope you and I can have the same setup...?

This past (and present) week in my life...

My dad is improving. Now if I could get his (very depressed) brain on board, we'd be jammin.

My darling Daddio is starting a new job. You may or may not remember (if you don't remember, it's probably because I didn't mention it) that he left his old job for a new job then left his new job to return to his old job...

confused?

Join the club.

It's all good though, because when daddy ain't happy ain't nooobody happy.

So when he leaves his old new job for a new new job which could (and probably would) result in him going forward and then taking some sideways steps forcing him to be choosing a completely different path toward the same job but in a different place and back to the old job in the same place...

Does that make any sense at all...?

Of course not.

Understandably, I have whiplash.

And a nervous stomach.

Which could also be due to my over thinking what I'll need to do, bring, pack, stash, cook, pay before leaving on the cross country trip to fetch my mother from the jaws of her empty and lonely house all in the effort to bringing her sweet self back to dreary, frigid MI.

Where she desperately loves a handful of it's residents, but just as desperately hates mostly everything else about the place... (I get it Ma, seriously)

This week will bring Road Trip to California preparations to a frenzy.

What with packing, stocking the Casa Koby with easily prepared/reheated/mowed right from the can/ chow, toilet paper, and other such necessities,

things like lots of free flowin money and a couple of important instructions to Bear need also to be put into place.

Instructions to make life livable in my absence.

"You are in charge of your dad this week"

"Allow me to teach you how to iron your dad's work pants"

"Remember, when you pack dad's lunch that he likes the stems picked off the grapes"

"Don't stand at the door in your pajamas to wave him off in the morning, it embarrasses him terribly"

"I normally spoon dad to sleep every night, that won't be too much to ask, right?"

To which Bear responds...

"Oh h-ell no, it's every man for himself next week, dog eat dog. Your husband is on his own".

And the band plays on....

I'll update as I can, and I do thank you from the bottom of my busy bee heart for understanding.

xoxoxoxox

Post Script....If I'm gone too long, please call my sponsors and complain.