One Year On (Now with pictures!)

The last "good" picture I have of Mom.  September 2008.

Today's the day.  I can't believe it's been a year already.  It seems like just yesterday I was running errands to craft stores and grocery stores because Mom needed "just one thing" wherever it was I was going.  Or grousing about late night phone calls at work.  Heck, grousing about multiple phone calls a day.  Now I wish my phone would ring with that number one more time or I could send a text message to her at 3 AM when I'm exhausted at work and no one else is awake.

Me and Mom in October of 2007

I'm trying very hard to not give the date power.  To consider it as just another day, no matter how terrible that day was.  I know that in a few years it will be less painful than it is now.  Less fresh.  One day perhaps I'll even have to stop and think about what date it fell on (though the fact it's the day after tax day may help with that.)

For now though I thought I'd share some stories about Mom.  She was always quick with a story or a joke.  It was one of the reasons going out to eat with her took much longer than dinner out ever does now.  I miss those long lingering times spent over food even though I can remember times I would have loved to light a fire under her and get her moving.  Two of my best friends would join us for lunch at our favorite (and now closed) Mexican buffet around noon, sometimes 11; soon it would be 2:30 and Hollie would be looking at her watch with a startled "Mom! I have to go!  I've got to pick up the kids from school."  Time seemed to slow down when you were listening to her stories.

Mom and Katie in September of 2007

Speaking of my best friends, man, she had one of them, Jake, wrapped around her little finger.  Hollie and I wanted something?  We might get it.  She wanted something.  "Sure Mom no problem.  Be right there."  And she was the same way with him.  He wanted something?  He'd have it.  The only thing she wouldn't do for him was go to the doctor.  Or the hospital.

We were out for breakfast one morning when Mom was still working and we'd stopped at IHOP.  A group of women were seated behind us so that Hollie and Jake could see them but my back and mom's was to them.  Now Jake is black and all the rest of us are white; not that this matters one bit but it is important to the story because at times when we'd be out we'd hear comments alluding to it.  Apparently we were an odd grouping to the rest of the world.  Go figure.  Anyway, this particular day the whispers started soft but they didn't stay that way.  Apparently quiet wasn't carrying them far enough for everyone in the general area to hear.  Mom had enough after a few minutes.  She turned around in her chair, looked at whichever one was currently speaking, and asked quite loudly if she had a problem with her son.  The look of shock on the woman's face was priceless.  His "Moms, leave it, it's okay" only added to the confusion of the other table.  We finished our meal in peace.  Hardly heard a peep from that table for the little bit longer we were there.

I've been sitting here listening to the wind, trying to think of a really funny story involving Mom because she loved to laugh.  That was the best part of life, laughing.  I remember her crying of course, especially the last night, but she rarely did it.  Mostly I remember her laughing.  So the fact that it's been hard for me to think of something really funny surprises me.  Perhaps it's that memories are harder to pull up on command at times like this.  I'm sure I've thought of stories during this past year that would make me smile or laugh.  Others have stories of her like that.  One of my coworkers always tells how anytime she worked with Mom down on the ward Mom would always lean out the med room window sometime during the night and ask "Would you like fries with that?"  The window is the slide open kind that fast food drive thrus often have.  It never failed to make my coworker laugh.

Mom being funny.  I love this picture because you can see my Aunt Jean in the mirror.

One story I remember right now, which probably isn't one of the funniest I'm sure since it only involves my mom and the really funny ones usually involved my aunt or my godmother (or all 3!), happened while we were shopping in Dubuque at the mall there.  We had gotten all dressed up so I'm assuming that it was my nanny's birthday and we actually had taken her to "Timmerman's in Dubuque" which is where she always said she wanted to go, mostly because it was so far away I think.  That had gotten to be an inside joke with the family.  But we were there for whatever reason and it was a different mall which means it needed to be explored at least a little.  We're women, shopping is in our blood.  We were walking along one of the concourses when I felt a little nudge on my back and heard a sort of "go faster" type noise.  We were heading in the direction of where we'd left Nanny sitting and we doubled timed it there I think.  By the time we reached her Mom was giggling in near hysterics and I was completely confused!  I hadn't seen or heard anything that funny on our trip around the mall.  Nanny was just as perplexed so Mom caught her breath and told us what had happened.  It seems that her half slip had started to shift while we were walking and she had been pulling it up as covertly as she could with an eye toward finding a bathroom so she could either re-situate it or remove it completely.  But the mall was short on bathrooms or they were rather well disguised because she didn't see one.  Eventually the fighting with the half-slip got to be too much and around the time I felt the little nudge Mom decided that the area was sparsely populated enough to just let go and walk right on out of it.  And then she just kept walking.  I can only imagine the confusion of anyone near us when it happened!  Or anyone that wandered across a piece of fabric in the middle of a mall's hallway.  We left the mall shortly after that, Mom and Nanny still giggling and I'm sure with me looking scandalized as only a teenager can.

I really wish Mom had written down some of the stories she had from her years as a psych nurse.  Some of them were so hysterical I laughed every time I heard them.  Some of them I'd ask to have her tell just because I loved them so much.  Like the story about the man that was apparently an escape artist.  They had to isolate him one day and they'd been having to do it over and over for a while.  Finally they got him settled and he stayed for a bit.  Not real long but long enough for the staff to get mostly away from the area and back about their duties.  I have no idea if he was in restraints (I'd doubt it) or  seclusion (seems more likely) or if they simply wanted him away from other patients but it wasn't too long until Mom and one of her aides turned around to see the gentleman in question coming down the hallway, naked as a jaybird, with a bouquet of artificial flowers erupting (if you'll pardon the pun) out of the top of his more private parts.  I can only imagine the reaction!  So festive!  Mom was never quite sure where he'd found the flowers and she damn sure didn't want to know how he managed to insert them there but I loved hearing about it.  She could make just about any story funny.

My favorite picture of Mom and Cathy.  I refer to this as their "natural look."

The weather here is cold and blustery.  Lots of wind.  Overcast.  We had to have rain at some point and I'm sure we will again.  It's like even the Universe is crying that she isn't here anymore.  The weather fits my mood nicely.  I don't know that I could have managed sunshine and spring breezes today.  But I can still hear the birds chirping and singing so I know at least there's hope for tomorrow.  Warmer weather, lighter breezes, even some sunshine I hope.  And there's hope for the day after that.  And the one after that.  Time will heal.  Seasons will pass.  And I'll keep remembering her and sharing stories.  Because life is all about the laughter.