Just some pics from my yard

More of the last week in review of this lady's life.

Hey, this is my home. Hope you enjoyed your work week and your visit to my world this Sunday, now I really am gone.

A couple of comedic victories.

Here we are at Mary and John's 25th Wedding Anniversary party. The year's have taken a toll on us, also; yet love lives on. In fact, I'm not sure anyone really knows how to care for another in the same way a couple together that long can. Learning still is what love is about. Always forgiving someone is not necessary nor is understanding. However, staying despite those things that you can't understand or forgive is the great test of individual fortitude. He's not perfect and neither am I. So once we found our sense of humor about those little things and are successful at not ever passing a boundary where the pain and the frustration crush that love, I will stay with him. Love him. Let him be him, because mainly he lets me be me. Childlike as we were and will always be...but wait! what wonder under the covers the monster stirs. I must run!

You do know I am only being a little silly, right? My theme this "Sunday is Gone" blog about visiting Mom is comedic victory. If there is not such a literary theme then herein it is invented, OK?

I took my video camera up there and when mom starts talking about seeing Elvis and the Rat Pack in Vegas in the old days of the Strip. I figure another great (long) story was about to unfold. I got excited and interrupted to say, "Mom, sounds neat (I still say "neat") you're recalling a great story. Would you care if I recorded you while telling us one of your stories?"

"No, NO, but," (she yells alot) "..I don't mind, but ..." Then I interrupted, as it reminds me I brought the video camera and was checking it and realized the disc was full." Then she got madder not because I wasn't going to capture the story, but I was looking at the camera puching butttons and I guess she though I was not listening as she reiterrated to me later, as to why she justified being frustrated and hostile toward me. I was paying attention and then I think she notices her tone changed and then she laughs. "I was going to say I don't mind if I know in advance, but I don't have my hair done or my lipstick on or anything, so some other time." So I "interrupted" (responded) again so as to get her back on track with the story and I asked how old would Elvis have been then, "Oh, I know he was young and he had three young women on his arm, but I know he had married what's her name?(pause)...Oh, dammit, what is her name?, Priscilla! (we exclaim in unison) at a very young age, but I don't think anyone of them were her."

So, the fun night ended with us going out to get Pizza and having a small discussion with my brother over her disposition and care lately. I know none of us can afford to do any more than this for her with our finances. What my brother does is 24/7 in home care, for which he gets no salary but room and board, and some cash for his medical bills. My other brother lives closer than I but rarely is over caring for her. I doubt he has ever assisted in pulling up her pants, and that's hard for a son, just like it was hard for Mom to get a break when dad was in a wheelchair for me.

Seems this might be why I've studied communication - so as to survive a night with my mother. My husband sees it; as she doesn't hide her behavior around him now, and I've learned to see the comedy in one day of the tragedy of this we call our daily lives and what it was like as a young women. (Which I revisit everytime I go home.) The visits remind me why I choose a teenage marriage and ran from this. She will never understand, but I'm going to try to find what's so damn funny about words that hurt...Ouch, words slap me again.. when I didn't listen to how to pull the blinds or get her a wet dishtowel (got a papertowel).
Sunday, will be gone soon and no work will be done if I don't turn my pain into a comedic victory of a blog here...I pull again at the memory of my dear departed little brother Richard, what did he say he saw in Larry, Moe, and Curly Joe?

P.S. I do love you mom, with all my heart, course I'm not sure how to convince you I have a heart, or maybe at times you don't remember you had one once... Before this thing "Freidrich's Ataxia" got to you. 'Tis true I have a hard time listening and rarely pay attention. Such a grand skill I have at tuning you out... gal Friday and never will be perfect daughter yours. Oh yeah,

Double P.S. Here's the victory part, she didn't succeed in making me cry.