Monday, March 24, 2008

Gummie


Now, many of you (if there is anyone left reading this blog, at all...) have heard me write about Gummie. She is my mom's mom. And two weeks ago yesterday she had a bi-lateral stroke and congestive heart failure. Last Sunday I went to visit her in California. On Saturday, while our family was hunting Easter Eggs in eight inches of fresh wet snow, she passed away. Strangely enough, at this time, I seem to have a bunch of photoesque memories of her even though I don't know how many memories I hold onto of my Mom. This saddens me. I know my blog has been bleak lately, but that is the way my life is going right now. It seems that all of these things are happening.

Memories:

I see Gummie. I am maybe four or five. She is teaching me about all of the parts of the body that need to be washed while I am in the bathtub. Specifically, and seemingly most importantly, behind the ears.

I see Gummie. She and Mom are waiting for me to take photos with other prom-goers. Then we drive to dinner. She says how beautiful my dress is.

I see Gummie. She is doing this dance we call the camel dance. Moving alternately, heel up heel down. Hands tucked in front like a bunny holding an Easter Basket. Comical.

I see Gummie and Guppy. They were dancers. I would watch and watch as they moved so gracefully around the dance floor. Those nights were torturous to a teenaged girl who wanted nothing to do with Country music.

I see Gummie. She is getting ready to go out. I can see all of her beautiful perfume bottles sitting on her dresser. I see her planning out her outfit and her jewelry.

I see Gummie. She is adamant that I tell her something, although she refuses to tell me what. Over a month later, I will find out that the psychic we went to see together has told her that I am pregnant (true) or will be pregnant in two weeks or less. She was adamant that I must have known, but I had no idea.
I see Gummie. She is playing bingo. She is waiting for her number to be called. She has all her lucky gadgets surrounding her. She says the appropriate things when certain numbers are called.

I see Gummie. She is chewing ice. I, personally, believe that this is one of the most annoying habits in the world. It is disruptive and impolite. Strangely enough, Gummie was a chronic ice chewer even though she was one of the most proper women I know.

I see Gummie. She has her head near my Mom's. Mom is sick. Gummie has tears in her eyes and is terribly sad. I see pain and hurt. I see love.

I see Guppy. I see Guppy talking tenderly to his wife of over fifty years. She is unresponsive and has been for days. The future is unsure but undeniable. He is tender. His love is evident.

There are so many more memories that I think of in this time of sadness.

I will not bore you with the details of my trip or any more of my sadness, but I will leave you with this. This is the photo that I took as I was leaving the hospital as I said Good Bye to Gummie for the last time before she passed. Strangely enough, the moon plays an important part in the photo if you look closely. It is as though there are three dimensions to life and this picture is able to depict those dimensions.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Dear Captain -- 23 Months

Dear Captain,
Hi Buddy, today is your 23 month Birthday. I am writing this to you from Gummie and Guppy's computer in California. This is the longest that I haven't been near you. I am sorry that I had to leave you guys, but I had to come out here to visit Gummie. She is not doing well and we are actually going to take her off of life support tomorrow morning. It pains me to have to tell you all of this, but Gummie is suffering and she is no longer responsive. She opens her eyes, moves her hands and shoulder, and lifts her eyebrows, but all of this is involuntary response. This trip was very important to me and I thank you guys for being understanding. Tonight I went and bought the cutest outfits for Easter on Sunday. They are matchy-matchy, but I will do it while I still can. I can't wait to see you in them.
You have been so sweet lately. You told me "Sweet Dreams" about two weeks ago when I layed you down in your bed. I just about cried. You have such an obsession with anything that moves these days. You watch every train that goes by and tell me what that train is doing ("making money", "slow down stop train", or "fast fast fast". You have seen a couple of helecopters around and are in love with them too. Your biggest physical milestone is the need to run. This means everywhere and with much abandon. You really don't care which way your legs are going and your arms go every which way. You really enjoy being outside now that it is warming up more. You run up and down the deck and cry when we drag you inside. You go go go from the time you wake up until the time you go to sleep. That is, unless you are listening to the Beatle's Children's Album. You mellow and veg when we put that CD on. You especially like the songs "All You Need Is Love" and "Yellow Submarine". Comical.
You are a climber and push our limits all the time. You talk so much and most of it is funny, but some is not necessarily what we want to hear. You are into ownership right now and let everyone know when a toy is "Your name's".
You are so cute at church. You really get along well with Father and you interact with him even during service. You are so independent. You walked right up to the pew we normally sit in and sat right down. You were carrying a hymnal and walked halfway through the pew and climbed up. You just started paying more attention to the choir and director and have been conducting from your seat. You also sing, sometimes loudly, and sway when the choir is singing. It is adorable.
I love you so much and will see you in a couple of days.
Love,
Mommy

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Dear Burbles -- Month 11

Dear Baby Girl,
I can't believe that you are almost a year old. Where has the time gone? Every day now you become more and more involved in your world. You have been standing up all on your own, but you have yet to take your first steps. I am kinda hoping that you will walk sometime soon, even though I know I will regret saying that sometime in the near future. You are so proud when you stand by yourself and then when you sit down and everyone claps for you that you were standing, you clap too with a huge smile on your face. This past month has been a little rough and tumble for you. The bumps and bruises are more frequent now, and I am sure this is only the beginning. You are as daring as your brother. Just yesterday you got a fat lip from him headbutting you. You screamed and he felt bad, but accidents happen and you guys were playing rough on the floor. He loves to tickle you like that and you guys just laugh and laugh... until someone gets hurt. You give it back to him, though, and I love watching your interactions.
This month you started talking some. You say "Hi, Da." Dad would like to think that you say it just to him, but you say it to me too. I would like you to acquire the "Mmmm" sound sometime soon though. Then we can start working on the "mamamama". It will come. No pressure. You said "Hat on" clear as day when I was getting your winter clothes on and you spend lots of time chitter-chattering. "All done" is your expression of choice right now. You get "all done" with everything and you know how to use it correctly too. When we get down to your last bites of food, you say "all done" repeatedly. It is cute. You love giving kisses to will give them freely if asked. Sometimes they are a little sloppy but we love them anyway.
You climb the stairs like it is no one's business. You don't quite grasp the concept of edge, though, and you try to sit on the stairs but do not put your little butt on the stair. That could cause you some problems, so we watch you closely when you are on the stairs. It is getting warmer out and I can't wait for spring to be here. You enjoy being outside and I bet that you are just as anxious as the rest of us to get outside and get some fresh air.
We got some news just this past Sunday, March 9th, that your Great-Grandma Gummie had a terrible stroke and that she is in a coma out in California. I am so glad that you and your brother got to meet her before this happened. There are some nice photos of you with her and I will tell you all about her when you get older. The two of you share a birthday and she is the reason you have red hair and a fair complexion. She is also probably the reason you have a temper.
Easter is coming and I hope to get some great photos of you on this special occasion. I can't wait for your birthday party. We'll be having a joint party with Captain at least for the first few years.
Just know how much we love you, and, as Gummie would say, we love you more and more each day.
Love,
Mommy