N is for be Nice

For as long as I can remember, my mother was always telling me to

"be nice."

Was I so horrible, that I had to be frequently reminded

just to be social?

Through grade school,

high school,

college...

she'd include a little note at the bottom of the

letter, check, note, bill...

"Be Nice"

I can remember graduating from college and joining

the work force.  I'd come home and complain about

something or someone, and Momma would help me

talk it through, and then end with "and remember to be nice."

Even when I went to medical school,

and through residency, she'd still remind me to

"be nice."

I do have one of those personalities

that makes it seem as though I am not the friendliest person,

so a gentle reminder now and then to smile and say thank you

or please probably was needed...

Even when she's gone I'll hear that small reminder as I 

start something new, or meet a new group of people

"be nice."

M is for Motorhome

we're on one and wifi connections are scarce, tonight we're in a campground that give you 20 minutes of free wifi... Wth!?! Promise to post more when able...

L is for fLexibility

We've been living in an RV for the past week during our annual Momma's Birthday Roadtrip.  Arriving in Colorado, no place to stay and may need to make travel adjustments due to weather.  So parked at the nicest Walmart we've probably ever been to, here in Loveland, CO... Will hopefully be able to get back to real blogging tomorrow...!

K is for Ka

noun, Egyptian Religion.a spiritual entity, an aspect of the individual,
believed to live within the body during life
and to survive it after death.

For those that have read my blog previously,

you know that my mother and I have discussions about things

that most people are uncomfortable with...

like living wills and death.

Recently we talked about what she was going to come back as,

just so she could let me know she was doing ok.

"Maybe a hummingbird or a dragonfly."

She told me she was just going to "pinch your toes."

I told her I didn't want to freak out, I just needed some reassurance

that's she's made it to Heaven and everything is good.

She said pinching my toes would definitely send a message.

I'm still trying to convince her to come through as

something less threatening, but

Momma does like to do things her way...

And, I know her spirit will definitely carry on long after she's gone.

J is for Jaded

For as long as I can remember, my mother always told me that

"men are selfish"

"men only want one thing"

"you can't trust men"

and many other statements to that effect.

I always thought it was so I wouldn't end up 15 and pregnant.

But, then I learned more of her story as I got older.

You see, my mother didn't marry until she was late in her 20's.

Her father died when she was about to graduate from high school,

so she put aside her dreams of college to go to work and

support two younger brothers and a sister.

She saw her two younger brothers start college 

and younger sister finish high school.

At some point she met my father, and in

August of 1966, she got married.

This is their wedding photo.

I've only seen it about 5 times in all my life

because she's kept it hidden in her things, 

and very rarely does it come out.

I snagged a photo in December of last year.

Anyway, I was born in July of 1967 and 

by somewhere in August of 1968 she was divorced.

She often told me that my father expected her to work,

but also to take care of him.

Then he brought his brother to live with them and

by her report, he did nothing but lay around the house.

Supposedly my father drank and went out with his friends,

and my mother was left to "clean up the mess."

So she kicked him, and his brother, out.

Unbeknownst to him, she had him sign a post-nup so

she kept the house which she had bought

and full custody of me.

I later heard rumors that he was actually married

with another family living in Mexico, but I still

don't really know that whole part of the story.

I just recently learned how she met him,

but I'm saving that for another blog post.

She never remarried.

According to my grandmother, lots of family friends

pursued my mom, even with me in tow,

but she said no to all of them.

I've never asked her why...

but, I guessed from her attitude toward men

that she shared with me

she just couldn't trust anyone else ever again.

I is for Impatience

We're on the road traveling, and I can't control my impatience.

I want to get to where we're going.

I want to achieve my bucket list.

I want, I want, I want...

At times, I just want to be left alone,

and have no one ask me for anything.

But, I'm not, and I can't.

I'm traveling with my husband, mother, and 2 dogs.

And, I know it might be the last trip for my mother,

and I think that just makes everything worse.

I've been living that reality for almost a year,

thinking about when it will really be for the last time.

She's physically weaker.

She's tired more and sleeps a lot of the time.

She gets nauseated, or coughs a lot,

and I begin to wonder...

Is this too much for her?

Is she going to make it to the next stop?

Why do I get so frustrated when she can't do something simple like walk,

or go up a flight of stairs?

I'm wearing my emotions on my sleeves.

I cry at the littlest thing.

I get frustrated with my husband, who patiently

tells me to "relax, you're on vacation."

But, it's much more than that.

It's a million little things I want to make sure I enjoy

and experience with my mom, 

so I can remember the good times when she's gone.

If only my impatience doesn't ruin a good time.

H is for Home

This is the home where my mother has lived 

the last 45+ years of her life.

And this is my home where my mother lives now with me...

It was a hard decision having her come stay with us,

but after she had fallen 3 times in 2 weeks we knew it was time.

She fought us.

She didn't want to lose her independence.

She didn't know what was going to happen to her mail,

her bills, who was going to take care of....?

I had decorated her room previously with all her favorite colors.

Since she's moved in, she's changed the curtains,

the linens, we've hung her favorite painting which

she brought from her old house, and we've added

small details to her room to make it her own.

Now she loves to sit in her chair and watch the

daily ins and outs of the chickens and geese.

She marvels at the new goslings, and tells me the latest in 

which rooster is fighting which other rooster for which hens.

She's made it her home...

For how long, we're still not sure,

but she still here.