Ramblings of an Old, Romantic Soul

  What does it mean when people say 'try to be strong'? Why? I am not weak because I cry, because I miss my Mom, my Dulcinea. I miss Mom's smile, her laugh, her hugs, her unconditional love, her presence. So many things I want to tell her - and yes, I've heard "she hears you". But right now that is not enough. In time it will be, but not now. And that's okay.  Every morning, every evening, I look for sweet Dulcinea - I listen for her meows, her pawsteps. I long to have her lay on my chest, gently kneading, and listen to her soothing purr. But she is gone.  Two souls, so long a part of my life, are no longer present.  I am numb. I am lost. I am no longer needed. Will I find my way again? Of course I will. A path will be made clear and I will sing and dance again. But not now, not yet.  Grief is strange. A very dear friend told me "there is no way through but through" - and that takes strength. It takes strength to confront the tears, the lonelines...

Dulcinea 5 June 2005 ~ 1 August 2021 Death seems to be ever present in our home these days. First Mom, now our beloved Dulcinea.   The look of death is the same, whether human or animal. And it isn't pretty. It matters not if they died peacefully, that empty look of death is the same - when you know the living soul that dwelt within is no longer present.  We had the gift of Dulcinea for 16 years.  We chose her (and her sister, Miss Marplestein) from a bunch of feral kittens at a farm. I held them in my arms, singing and bonding with them; telling them how precious they were.  When we brought them home, they were two small, frightened, sickly kittens. But we thought they were beautiful. In fact, Mom was the first person to meet 'our babies'. We were boasting and googling over them. So proud. Later Mom told us she thought they were the saddest looking creatures she had ever seen but didn't have the heart to tell us so. We were in love. And have been since that day...

  This is the current state of my brain.  A massive bramble, thoughts scattered, yet all tied into one gigantic mess. Mom is gone. She passed away on Friday, 2 July 2021, in the early morning hours.  In her last months of living she was visited by many family members and in the end, she was surrounded by peace and love.  What more could one want? Well. I want her here. I, we, wanted more time with her in our home. I want more walks with her, more laughs with her. I want more morning coffee time with her. I just want her. Perhaps selfish, but very natural. When Mom moved in with Terry and I, we really thought she would be with us for many years. She was healthy, a country girl, a coalminer's daughter (as she so proudly reminded us) of good stock. Yes, dementia was beginning to rear its ugly head, but many days she was alert and aware. In April I wrote "How fortunate are we to share her final years. To bring her joy, contentment, security, and love. We are blessed beyo...

Ugh. Hospice. The word has such a negative connotation. Hospice = imminent death. When Dad left the hospital, he came home on hospice care and was with us for two weeks before he died. The hospice team was wonderful, especially his nurse, Albert - a gentle giant who cared for Dad so lovingly. But even so, we knew Dad was coming home to die. I have so many thoughts running through my head, so forgive me if this is a bit jumbled.  Mom has been talking about death for a few months. She is realizing she is at the end of her life and it is hitting her right in the face. She is not giving up, it's just where she is.  Those are her words, not mine. Her food and drink intake has seriously diminished. She has lost quite a bit of weight. And, she has asked to speak to each of her children, to tell them how much she loves us.  I spoke with her doctor and he suggested hospice. He said that people know their bodies and often times sense when it is time. The fact that Mom has stated al...

Look at this woman! How fortunate are we to share her final years. To bring her joy, contentment, security, and love. We are blessed beyond measure.  Mom loses her pens. I don't know how, or where they disappear, but they vanish into oblivion. The other day I was browsing Amazon and came across some puzzle books I thought she would enjoy (as you can see she does), and found these 'happy pens'.  They are the cutest pens - with different faces, and moppy hair. AND, she finds them delightful. Simple joys.  I've heard it said that children grow quickly. In a blink of an eye they are young adults making life choices on their own. Parents should spend time with their children, quality time. Parents shouldn't worry about messy rooms, or dirty dishes in the sink. Savor the time you have, each magical moment, for it will not last forever.  Terry and I were not blessed with children, but I find myself repeating these same words to myself. I've realized that playing my gam...

Our minds work in mysterious ways, as does our Lord.  This is how my day started: Mom: I have a dumb question to ask. Me: No question is dumb. What’s your question? Mom: That furniture in my bedroom looks like the furniture I bought long ago. Is it mine? Me: Yes. That’s yours. Mom: Oh my! How nice that it’s here. I bought something else too, I think Me: The cedar chest? Mom: Yes! She then proceeds to relate the whole story about how/why/when she bought the furniture. Mind you, I've heard this story many, many times. And isn't it odd that she can remember the story of how she bought the furniture, which was 70 years ago, but cannot remember that the furniture was moved down here with her. It has been in her room for over a year. She looks at it often and relates the story. Yes, I could feel my inner annoyance. I just wanted to drink my coffee and do my bible study. Here is an excerpt from this morning's study: "He is always there—far outranking Satan in strength—to hear...

  When I took this photo, I had a moment of clarity. These two precious beings are kindred spirits. I see a woman who has lived a good life with a mind full of wisdom and facts, and a baby, just starting her life with a mind eager for knowledge. They seem to be so different. But are they?  I think not. In fact, they are quite similar in many ways.  Mom is 91. Audriana is 9 months. Quite a disparity in age. Yet, both have their meals prepared for them or they would not eat.  Both have a walker to assist them - Mom to steady herself; Audri to learn how to walk. Both need assistance in selecting clothes for they day. Both require repetition; one to retain knowledge, the other to access knowledge.  Both take frequent naps. Mom requires a wheelchair or electric scooter for our daily walks; Audri requires a stroller - neither are strong, or confident, enough to walk on their own. Both enjoy and laugh at my dancing and find me entertaining. 😀 Both are fully dependent ...