It's Friday, April 24, 2020. I'm done with work and got ambitious and made a lasagna. It's OK--I screwed up the top layer and it's crunchy...but a good use of all my random ingredients I need to cook: Tofu, ground turkey, mozzarella, lasagna noodles, open marinara, chopped up peppers and onions. See, I've been cooking at home every day for 6 weeks? We are in the time of a Covid-19 pandemic, and the best thing we can do is stay home. Stay home. STAY HOME! So, I'm home, on a Friday night, playing Lyle Lovett on my amazon, listening to Pickle snore and shirt and snore and then huff like a horse and yawn and dream. My favorite is when she's sleeping, and is dreaming and her little feet pedal and she barks in the sweetest most polite way. Like, she doesn't want to bother me but this dream is so amazing.
I played a hand of online Poker---and lost on a bad bet. As in, I bet badly. I always do. I just like to play!!! Not so good at strategy.
Missing my family, my friends in Chicago, hell, even my friends here. I'm coming up on 2 years in this apartment, and I finally did my gallery wall. It turned out pretty good for a janky-ass hammer, some tacks and mostly garages sale and Ikea frames.
It's Friday, April 24, 2020 and I'm ignoring the news. It's too divisive and people fight on facebook, like it's going to change someone's mind about Trump or turn someone against another. People are being really mean. I'm not for Trump, but let's not call anyone a cheeto. Low blow.
It's Friday, April 24, 2020. I had a work happy hour today, 3 facetime calls tmw and another one sunday. This is how we socialize--in halting gestures and one at a time conversations. No side bars, no secret non-verbal communication. Pauses and silences and then more talk about babies.
It's Friday, April 24, 2020. I miss my mom.
Stay safe everyone
Friday, April 24, 2020
Estate Sale, Walks, Reading and Dinners
Yesterday was a much welcomed fallish day in LA, a sprinkly tiny bit of rain and fog, and I was walking the old gals (Me, and Pickle) mid-morning. We had slept in, after a long week of work and evening plans (I mean, I can't complain about free tix to the Hollywood Bowl, two dinners with friends but I do get a bit worn out), and I was gabbing with Beth, one of my two elder sisters (I am the youngest sister, the youngest cousin, the baby of the family as my mom always said, I am young young young). Beth and my other elder sister Kitty had gone on a walk and to an estate sale. I yelled "ME TOO" because I have FOMO but also, Pickle and I were going to do the same! It's moments like these when I see how much we are our mothers' daughters, except the part about walks. My mom did not like to walk, stroll, amble, perambulate or meditate. She liked to go to garages sales, estate sales, flea markets, Elyria City, garden, play volleyball, golf and read. Not bike or run or such. Anyway, on this Saturday in September, my sisters and I were doing the exact same thing.
This week I felt my mom's death a bunch--like a gut punch to the belly--she was on my mind, in my dreams and I couldn't figure it out. Until it occured to me---we are coming up on 2 years from her initial diagnosis and start of treatment. She had a surgery in October of 2017 and then chemo started in December (I think. I went to her first chemo. She and I gabbed while my dad read the really thick book on Hamilton. He had me read a passage and it was heady stuff---and I thought, Lin-Manuel Miranda is incredibly bright and well-read and how the hell did he take this very deep dive into Hamilton and make it HAMILTON?). I think we went and had lunch after. I can't remember--those fall and winter days blend in. We were so relieved that my mom didn't have lung cancer and it was only Hodkins and the plan was that she'd have some casual chemo and be cured. That was the plan.
Anyway, in the end, it doesn't matter if we were surprised or not surprised that she died. She died anyway. It was the cure that got her---the chemo killed her, not the cancer. But how do you separate it or distinguish it? Does it matter? I guess if I had KNOWN she was going to die, I could have asked her how she felt about it, what she wanted to share, and asked her why she liked volleyball so much.
Instead, I'm left with these moments and memories to sift through and find the answers. And that's up to interpretation, like any moment with someone living or dead.
Kitty (my elder sister) and I enjoy remembering times when my mom wasn't a PERFECT ANGEL MOTHER SENT FROM HEAVEN like how she hated to walk, and would get pissed in the car and take a corner with wheels squealing on the asphalt. And when we laugh at her we imagine my mom in heaven saying "Oh you bitches, stop complaining about me already". Though even that is not entirely true my mom didn't use language like that. One time when I said father so and so was an asshole she got pissed at me then. Though he was an ass (and it's not Father Cousin Charlie--he is NOT an asshole).
Anyway, a quick update: Grief group is done, I've started a 9-5 job that'll last for 3 months and has me working downtown LA (which is just wonderful--everything a downtown should be. Old and new buildings, people bustling, lots of diversity of people, poor, rich, working etc) and I'm actually doing some writing and creating. Who knew? Maybe I'll even try to date.
15 months since my mom died. My grief is a walking baby. She still cries sometimes but is exploring her world. Cutting back on naps. her brain is developing as are her social skills. She's starting to put together words. Is willing to help others.
All of this is true. I'm less vulnerable and more able to sit at a meal and not want to run back to my dog and tv. I haven't napped in weeks. I'm really into seeing new parts of LA and California.
Which brings me back to the estate sale. I should have bought that long turquoise bench. Maybe I'll go back over there today. But I did get a Burberry scarf. One time when the 4 of us were shopping, my mom held up a plaid shirt to show us and I so cleverly said "You can never have enough plaid" and she shoved it back on the rack and was PISSED. There wasn't a lot to tease my mom about--because, let's admit it, she was an angel sent down from heaven to be our mother, but we could tease her about 3 things: Her love of plaid, her curly curly hair and that she didn't like to walk. And I cut a haircut with curly curly curly bangs. Like, I look almost like a Duggar or O'Brien from Downton Abbey. I love them. They remind me of my mom. Like plaid, reading anything and everything, and not walking and volleyball and garage sales.
So, I guess she is with us.
This week I felt my mom's death a bunch--like a gut punch to the belly--she was on my mind, in my dreams and I couldn't figure it out. Until it occured to me---we are coming up on 2 years from her initial diagnosis and start of treatment. She had a surgery in October of 2017 and then chemo started in December (I think. I went to her first chemo. She and I gabbed while my dad read the really thick book on Hamilton. He had me read a passage and it was heady stuff---and I thought, Lin-Manuel Miranda is incredibly bright and well-read and how the hell did he take this very deep dive into Hamilton and make it HAMILTON?). I think we went and had lunch after. I can't remember--those fall and winter days blend in. We were so relieved that my mom didn't have lung cancer and it was only Hodkins and the plan was that she'd have some casual chemo and be cured. That was the plan.
Anyway, in the end, it doesn't matter if we were surprised or not surprised that she died. She died anyway. It was the cure that got her---the chemo killed her, not the cancer. But how do you separate it or distinguish it? Does it matter? I guess if I had KNOWN she was going to die, I could have asked her how she felt about it, what she wanted to share, and asked her why she liked volleyball so much.
Instead, I'm left with these moments and memories to sift through and find the answers. And that's up to interpretation, like any moment with someone living or dead.
Kitty (my elder sister) and I enjoy remembering times when my mom wasn't a PERFECT ANGEL MOTHER SENT FROM HEAVEN like how she hated to walk, and would get pissed in the car and take a corner with wheels squealing on the asphalt. And when we laugh at her we imagine my mom in heaven saying "Oh you bitches, stop complaining about me already". Though even that is not entirely true my mom didn't use language like that. One time when I said father so and so was an asshole she got pissed at me then. Though he was an ass (and it's not Father Cousin Charlie--he is NOT an asshole).
Anyway, a quick update: Grief group is done, I've started a 9-5 job that'll last for 3 months and has me working downtown LA (which is just wonderful--everything a downtown should be. Old and new buildings, people bustling, lots of diversity of people, poor, rich, working etc) and I'm actually doing some writing and creating. Who knew? Maybe I'll even try to date.
15 months since my mom died. My grief is a walking baby. She still cries sometimes but is exploring her world. Cutting back on naps. her brain is developing as are her social skills. She's starting to put together words. Is willing to help others.
All of this is true. I'm less vulnerable and more able to sit at a meal and not want to run back to my dog and tv. I haven't napped in weeks. I'm really into seeing new parts of LA and California.
Which brings me back to the estate sale. I should have bought that long turquoise bench. Maybe I'll go back over there today. But I did get a Burberry scarf. One time when the 4 of us were shopping, my mom held up a plaid shirt to show us and I so cleverly said "You can never have enough plaid" and she shoved it back on the rack and was PISSED. There wasn't a lot to tease my mom about--because, let's admit it, she was an angel sent down from heaven to be our mother, but we could tease her about 3 things: Her love of plaid, her curly curly hair and that she didn't like to walk. And I cut a haircut with curly curly curly bangs. Like, I look almost like a Duggar or O'Brien from Downton Abbey. I love them. They remind me of my mom. Like plaid, reading anything and everything, and not walking and volleyball and garage sales.
So, I guess she is with us.
Bruce in town
My dad was in town for what has become an annual fall visit. In true Bruce fashion, he sent me the times of his flight but didn't indicate am or pm. He just upgraded his phone from an old flip phone to a new flip phone, so his texts are already short, sloppy and you feel like you are texting a teenager from 2002.
"talk to me picking me up tomorrow"
"arrive at 1125 ua224 talk tonight"
So, I called and he didn't pick up. It's just him in the house now, and as we get beyond the immediate grief of losing my mom, I start to worry about him. Did he fall? Should I text the neighbor who can come check on him?
Turns out he had fallen asleep. After we agreed to talk.
Anyway, we had an amazing time. For years when he and my mom would visit he drove me nuts! He likes to TALK in the morning. Wake up EARLY. Bitch about the coffee MAKER.
But, sometime in the last couple years...we all agreed to not talk to Becky in the morning until she had her coffee. And, for the most part, Bruce remembers that when he visits.
This trip was his 3rd (!) to Cali. Right? I think so. Oh yes! He came out right after mom died in August 2018, then in the fall of 18 and fall of 19.
He met up with his favorite boss of ALL TIME Eric Bloom. He's a rockstar in my dad's eyes..and to tell the truth, when they get together they really giggle like a bunch of old schoolgirls. They went and golfed...my dad was nervous about driving my beloved PRI PRI (Prius)...but we did a practice run to Aldi in Pasadena and he then felt comfortable driving it down to meet ERIC BLOOM for golf!
At the Aldi, I relaxed into it...doing a BIG shop. Dad is a whirlwind, and likes to keep on the move. So, he kept trying to hurry me up even in the WEIRD AISLE! Dad doesn't understand Aldi..if you rush, you may miss an opportunity to buy an air fryer or solar lantern. He was pacing, so I kept sending him on mini-shopping errands...like "Find the chili seasoning envelope". He returned with the taco seasoning bottle. NO DAD! Finally, after sighing and sulking, I sent him next door to try to find Bourbon or something. He got lost (don't worry, the Altadena Aldi is nestled into the mountains...it's a beautiful setting and my dad loves to walk) and finally came back just as I was checking out. In the old days, mom and dad would take me to the grocery store and treat, but now I'm a big 47-year old grown up lady, so I decided to refuse to take his Discover card when it came time. He didn't offer, and I quickly realized who was behind the grocery store bill pickup---it was my mom!
More to come if i can remember what we did...
"talk to me picking me up tomorrow"
"arrive at 1125 ua224 talk tonight"
So, I called and he didn't pick up. It's just him in the house now, and as we get beyond the immediate grief of losing my mom, I start to worry about him. Did he fall? Should I text the neighbor who can come check on him?
Turns out he had fallen asleep. After we agreed to talk.
Anyway, we had an amazing time. For years when he and my mom would visit he drove me nuts! He likes to TALK in the morning. Wake up EARLY. Bitch about the coffee MAKER.
But, sometime in the last couple years...we all agreed to not talk to Becky in the morning until she had her coffee. And, for the most part, Bruce remembers that when he visits.
This trip was his 3rd (!) to Cali. Right? I think so. Oh yes! He came out right after mom died in August 2018, then in the fall of 18 and fall of 19.
He met up with his favorite boss of ALL TIME Eric Bloom. He's a rockstar in my dad's eyes..and to tell the truth, when they get together they really giggle like a bunch of old schoolgirls. They went and golfed...my dad was nervous about driving my beloved PRI PRI (Prius)...but we did a practice run to Aldi in Pasadena and he then felt comfortable driving it down to meet ERIC BLOOM for golf!
At the Aldi, I relaxed into it...doing a BIG shop. Dad is a whirlwind, and likes to keep on the move. So, he kept trying to hurry me up even in the WEIRD AISLE! Dad doesn't understand Aldi..if you rush, you may miss an opportunity to buy an air fryer or solar lantern. He was pacing, so I kept sending him on mini-shopping errands...like "Find the chili seasoning envelope". He returned with the taco seasoning bottle. NO DAD! Finally, after sighing and sulking, I sent him next door to try to find Bourbon or something. He got lost (don't worry, the Altadena Aldi is nestled into the mountains...it's a beautiful setting and my dad loves to walk) and finally came back just as I was checking out. In the old days, mom and dad would take me to the grocery store and treat, but now I'm a big 47-year old grown up lady, so I decided to refuse to take his Discover card when it came time. He didn't offer, and I quickly realized who was behind the grocery store bill pickup---it was my mom!
More to come if i can remember what we did...
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