missing my mom

I am missing my mom so much.  I just want to talk to her.  Not about anything so deep or profound.... maybe just talk about television shows we both watched, and what we thought of them.  She would say "watch that tonight, and we'll talk about it, tomorrow."  Oh, how I miss such simple pleasures.
Today I bought Sugar Wafer cookies, and some Halvah.  She loved both of these sweet treats.  What a sweet tooth she had.  How fitting that she would marry a baker, and always have some cake or cookies available for dessert.  Mom's meal wasn't complete unless it included dessert.
Years ago we had the finer candy stores in the neighborhood.  Places like Loft's, and Baricini's.  It was from these places that she would buy her beloved Truffles, and Parlays.  She would "hide" them from us in hopes of having them last longer.  But she always hid them in the same spot!...  in the china cabinet.  Of course we'd find them.
She was never fat, though.  In her twenties, she only weighed about 105 pounds, and was quite slim.  In her 30's she got a little chunky after my dad bought the bakery, and they were living high on the hog.  But during the next decade, in her 40's, she got Multiple Sclerosis, and would lose the weight she had gained.
I miss her laugh, and how well she could read me, no matter what.
She would be shocked and dismayed at what I am going through these days, though.  But it sure would be a comfort to have her at this time.
This Sugar Wafer's for you, mom.   I love you, and miss you always.

first Christmas without mom

Honestly, during the last few years of my mom's life, there were times I didn't even see her on Christmas.  Mostly we were together, thankfully.  Usually on Christmas Eve.  That's when we celebrated.  Christmas Day was always more laid back.  Eat leftovers, and play with your toys, or veg out in front of the tv.
This is my first Christmas Eve without my mom.  How strange not to see her in her apartment, her little tree decorated and placed on the tv.  Her Christmas cards tucked between the wood and glass on the china cabinet.  A wreath on the outside of the door.  Other little items tucked here and there.
She would do most of the decorating herself, moving around in the wheelchair.
She would think this weather is strange.  "It's a little spooky." I can almost hear her saying.  Today it was 70 degrees.
Me and her, we always had a thing about the snow.  More than often the first snow would come when we were together.  My mom would say, in a singing voice, "It's snooowing!"  If we weren't together, we'd call each other, and say the same.
She is sure in my heart this Christmas Eve.  As is my dad.
I had such cherished moments with them.

recovery and loss, these past 3 weeks

I haven't taken a picture yet this month/year, and I am itchy to get the shutter clicking.  Of course it has been a month of doctor's visits and surgeries, and roads to recovery, so I have not exactly been in the photographing mode.  Besides being in pain, and unable to walk very well unassisted, it is way to cold to step outside, and even my cat isn't amenable to haven't a photo session.
31/Jan/2015 0:41

My house is a mess, and I didn't try to straighten it before surgery, and am unable to do it now.  I'm a slob.  It's very frustrating.

It's 3 o'clock in the morning, and the percocets aren't having the sleep inducing sensation they usually do.  So, watching repeats of Friends, and strolling the internet.  Not much people interaction at this time of night.
These drains are still deep red and filling frequently.  Ugh.
31/Jan/2015 3:07

I ran out of percocets yesterday, and have had 2 days of pain.  It is all your head can think about.
Tonight luckily I got a couple of percocets from a neighbor.  It sucks th at they can't call in pain pills to the pharmacy.  I'll get another prescription on wednesday when I see Dr. Cohen.  I hope he athinks I'm doing well.
2/Feb/2015 23:30

It's late wednesday, early am of thursday, the fifth.
My mother isn't doing well.  Tree says she is dying, she has given up.  I can't even reach her by phone, and am not in any shape to be getting there, so it all just sucks.  This seems to be the end of the line for her, and I can do nothing.  My mother dying?  It sucks that she didn't have any quality of life these past few years.  I pray that she will go into her husband's arms, and be at the true peace she craves so badly.  This life has just become too much.  I've missed her for a long time already.
I am a little numb over everything going on.
Today I saw Dr Cohen my sweetheart of a plastic surgeon.  They milked the drains and got out quite a bit, as there had been a clot on either side.  The drains are leaking and there's not much you can do about that, except maybe wear sanitary napkins. at least they would stick.  Hard to get out and get that.
He said i was healing well, and was very comfortying, as usual., along with Launda, his nurse.  Launda was going to come tomorrow, to walk with me, buyt I told her not to... that I'd walk some with evie... at least around the halls, since it's going to snow some more.   They knew I was in p ain, and Dr Cohen was concerned that I needed an anti anxiety with what's going on with my mother, on 0top of the recovery.  They called in the meds (percocets and xanax) to the maimo pharmacy, up t he block, and Dr Cohen went and got them himself, and wouldn't take any money for t hem.  What a guy.  He showed me pics of his  2 young sons, and 9 mos old daughter.  He must be such a loving father.  Adorable kids.
Wish I could get it together enough to make him a lady of abundance before next week.
5/Feb/2015 0:51

My mom died this morning around 9am.  She was the best mom, and a  good friend all my life.  We did so many fun things together that I will never forget.  Life with her and my dad was the best.  I pray you are with daddy now, and even your mom and dad, and that the love is neverending.
9/Feb/2015 22:40

Couldn't get any more percocets from the doctor, suggesting 800mg of motrin.  They don't want you to get addicted, I guess.  So, tolerating a little more pain than usual.  Still have the drains.  Whatever.
I miss my mom and want to talk to her.  A weird feeling.  I remember that feeling when daddy died.  Wanting to talk.
Thinking all kinds of after death scenerios.  What the interaction, if any, would be like.   I think light beings relating purely, knowing each other at it's  p urest.  The ability to overlook this earthly life, but just as observers.... without judgement.  Pure love.  I wonder if they interact with the angels, and remind them to watch and help us.  Spirit persists, I know that.  Soul is forever.
There are many steps.
13/Feb/2015 0:41


The wake was today.  They did her well, and she looked good, very much at rest. Her hands looked beautiful.  It was a small turn out of people, and I appreciated those who showed.  Tomorrow is the funeral, but we're not going to take the long ride out to Riverhead for the buriel(at Calverton military cemetary with my dad).  It's just too far and the weather is expected to be bad.  We'll do t he mass in the church, St. Catherine of Alexandria.
16/Feb/2015 22:50


It snowed a good amount overnight, and through the morning.  Mom and I had a thing when it snowed, where we'd always call each other and say "It's snowing!"  It was our thing.  This time she told me from heaven, I guess.   "It's snowing, Ma', I said back to her, 'it's snowing."
17/Feb/2015 14:08

My mommy died

After a year and a half of battling infected bedsores, my mother has passed away.  My heart is broken.  She was the strongest woman I've ever known, so full of life.  I pray she is in heaven with my father now, and dancing the Lindy with him.  She had such a hard life. and now she is at peace.  I love you mommy.

my mom declines

It seems that my mother may be dying... soon, I mean.  She has been battling these deep bedsore infections since before I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She has been in and out of the hospital for nearly 2 years now, and each admission shows her declining, and unable to tolerate this life anymore. She is 87 now.  She is in another world, Theresa says, and barely eats and can hardly sip through a straw.  I am unable to go see her because of the condition I'm in, and I can never reach her on the phone.  They are going to evaluate her for hospice care.                  My mother had so much life left in her, and again illness had to rob h er of that.

catch up

Why do I find it infuriating when people can't spell certain words?  When they use "loose" when they mean "lose".... grrrr..... Your pants are loose.... You lose a job.  Advise when they mean advice.   And oh the run on sentences I see on facebook.  My insides churn, knowing these are mothers writing on the same FB their kids use, and there is NO example being set.  Sometimes I see periods in the MIDDLE of a sentence, making no literal sense whatsoever, and I've seen this happen more than twice with two different posters.

These are the things that start irritating you when you've been holed up in the house for too long.  Mostly down due to pain, which lasts from wednesday to sunday, it seems, after getting chemo/wbc injection on monday and tuesday.  Then I have a free week with no chemo.  It's late monday now, and I felt ok most of the day.  Up late now, just can't sleep, but at least it's not due to pain.

It snowed several inches, but I haven't been out to see it.  I need to get some air soon, feel like I am suffocating.

Haven't seen family since Christmas, so I am missing them.   Here's a pic of me and mom taken on Christmas day, when she was still in the nursing home.  She's out now, has 24 hour care, and daily dressing changes on the bedsores.  A hard situation for her to be in, but at least, thank God, she is home.

some winter trees

migrating geese

My niece, Melissa, turned 40 on the first on the month.  This blows me away, and seems impossible.  Reminds me that I am inching towards 60 this year, and that's just outta line!

She is a beautiful healthy 40.... the new thirty, don't you know.

late november

Late November.  I think of my novel and  how late November occurred more than once.  I liked the idea of snow always being in the offing.  And it snowed a lot in that book.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day.  My mother is in the nursing home, and will be there till the end of January, they say.  She has an infection in the bone where the decubitis ulcer is located (on her sacrum).  She is devastated, thinking she will have to stay there forever.  We tell her that's not so, that she will go home.  She's too vibrant not to.
So, that is hard.  She will be there for Christmas and New Years.  Such a damn long time.

Theresa is making the Thanksgiving feast, but has little room in her apt this year, so me and Evie will get delivered food from her when Melissa is on her way home.  Can't wait.

Me and Ev are now just hanging out on the bed, me writing, her drawing one of her Ladies in Hats.  Bordeaux Red.
There's a clock on 86th Street that plays bells now and then.  I can't make out the tune, though.

Going into my second week off chemo.  I feel a lot better.  It starts up again monday, the 2nd.  This will be right about the time I'll start losing my hair.  Sort of the face of cancer, isn't it?  Nothing much I can do about that.
I have a precious online friend (for some 15+years), who is a knitter, and she's making me a couple of hats.  Can't wait to see them.
Bought myself a couple of bandannas already.  It'll be a whole new thing covering the head like that.

Evie probably thinks I am writing something profound here, as she adds color to the page.  She'll say "Well, it was sorta profound" after hearing it, knowing she's pushing it.  Ha ha.

Wishing you all the happiest Thanksgiving.

the continuing saga

My world is mainly focused on breast cancer, and getting rid of it.  There is not much else on my mind.  But, my poor mother was admitted to the hospital again, with inflammation of the bone where her bed sore is.  It's a bad situation, and I feel so damn bad for her.  I have 3 doctors days next week, including one operation (to get the port) on wednesday, so I won't be visiting much.  The following week starts my chemotherapy (on the 18th) for the next 8 weeks.  After that, it's radiation for  6-7 weeks, the radiological oncologist said, 5 friggin days a week.  Learned all the many horrible side effects of radiation the other day.  The one that bothers me the most, besides the burning peeling skin, is that it could mess up the cosmetic results of the reconstruction.  Does it ever end?  Have an ENT appointment tuesday, because something was "spotted" on the PET (they didn't tell me this at first) in my throat.  I have had GERD for many many years, and I'm hoping it's just a nodule of some sort that's benign.  I certainly don't want to hear of more cancer, that will flip me out.

a week of grieving

Last week I posted that my cat, Little Guy had died, and to tell you the truth I was a little taken aback by how few condolences I received on that post.  I know I have reached out to many of you who have had pets that passed.  Only my friends Stephanie and Mim left a comment to heal me.  I am thankful for them.  Surprised by others of you.
What I didn't write was the terrible way in which Little Guy died, and that was that he was killed by my other cat, Morrison, who is still quite feral, despite having been here for 4 years, when I took him in as a stray.  I came home to Little Guy dead, and I will spare you the gruesome  details, but suffice to say that I am still grieving.
At first I wanted to kill Morrison myself, but then I decided to put him down.  Now I am wavering on that idea, and am thinking of keeping him after all.  He doesn't know the bad thing he did, and was acting out of instinct.  I have to find it in my heart to forgive him.
During all this my mother was admitted to the hospital with a bad decubitus ulcer (bed sore) between her thigh and buttock, and another on her foot.  Despite the fact that a nurse was there every other day to change the dressing on the ulcer, it got to a point where the bone was exposed and she was finally taken to the hospital... how it went so long with no one noticing is beyond me.  Anyway, she had surgery, and is doing well but will have to go to a nursing home for about 3 months for rehab and wound care.  She is thinking that she will not be going home but will become a resident of the nursing home.  My sister is thinking that will happen, too, but I am holding out hope that she will be able to go home with the help of her aides and all.  I'm just afraid she'll deteriorate in a nursing home.  I guess time will tell.
It has been a hard week, and I sure hope that some lighter times are on the horizon.

my mom

I don't write about my mom very much, but having been with her the day before yesterday, and today, she is on my mind.

She walked with a slight limp (from a childhood injury which left her with half a knee, and one leg shorter than the other), oh so long ago.  Those were the good days for her body.  At 42, Multiple Sclerosis (MS) took hold, and slowly her lower body deteriorated. Two breaks of her tibia in later years topped off the deterioration, and a broken ankle from falling out of her chair on the street one day (she now wears a seatbelt all the time), really got the best of her.

Today, in a wheelchair, unable to stand or move her legs very much, she must depend on aides and daughters to help her out of bed getting dressed, getting on the tub seat (but bathing herself w/o assistance),  and other things, but not much along the day. She picks up around the house, and keeps a tidy place.

Independent since a teenager, she takes her motorized wheelchair everywhere.  It's her legs, she says.  On the buses, or access-a-ride, she comes to my neighborhood, or other places, all by herself.  She'll be 86 soon, and she is bright and alive, and always says "I love life."  But she is scared.  Scared that she is getting too weak to just depend on aides, and might need to go into a home.  I don't see this happening yet.  She still gets by well with the aides.  A home would depress the hell out of her.  She lives in a senior citizen independent housing run by Catholic Charities.  Has a one bedroom apt., and is happy there.  It's where she lived with my father, who is gone 21  years this year.
I think my mom will live a long time, she has longevity in her family.  I think one of her aunts lived into 100's.  She tells me not to die before her, and urges me to stop smoking.  I don't listen.
My mother is an amazing woman, who I pray does not lose any more strength in her body.  She is a good friend who knows me very well.  She can always tell, even over the phone, if something is wrong.  My face gives it away to her as well.
We used to go to Atlantic City a lot together, but that was back when she used a standard wheelchair (which she refuses to use now, because it's uncomfortable for her, can't blame her) .  The motorized one cannot be put in a car, plus I'm not sure I could transfer her to a car seat at this point, being she can no longer bear any weight on her legs.  But we had several good overnight stays in AC.  Gambling at the slots a lot, and strolling/wheeling on the boardwalk, feeding the seagulls, buying salt water taffy.  I wish we could go back.

So, I just felt like writing a little about my mom, an amazing woman who loves life, and often laughs at her situation, because, as she says "What am I gonna cry?"  God bless her.
Here we are at AC some years ago.

Melissa's 39th!

I've been remiss in posting my free writes/draws, but things have been a little hectic around here.  My mom had been admitted to the hospital on friday with a bad ulceration from a huge blister she had on her foot.  The doctor was afraid the infection might be to the bone, so she had to have a biopsy done, and happily the results showed that was not the case.  She was discharged yesterday, and we weren't able to resume normal  aide visits (12 hours a day) until this afternoon, so I was with her during the interim.
Also, on friday night there was a birthday bash for Melissa's 39th birthday, at a place called The Bean Post, in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn.  Although tired from the day at the hospital, me and my sister were able to make the late night gathering at least for a couple of hours.
Here are me, my niece, Melissa, and my sister, Tree.

Happy Mother's Day

Wishing all the moms out there a very Happy Mother's Day.  You are the salt of the Earth.
Here is a mother's day photo collage I made for my mom.

~click on pic to enlarge~

friday afternoon

I have finally finished writing my novel! It is over 500 pages printed out, and I feel a definite loss now that it is written. Of course, that was only the first draft, and there's lots of work to be done on it now. But I wrote "The End", and I'm glad for that. I can't believe I wrote that many pages, and I'm proud of myself. Granted, I don't think it is the best of novels by a long shot, but I did it, and that's what matters.

Today I deleted about a dozen blogs that I was following. People who have apparently stopped blogging...mostly those who haven't made an entry in three months or more. Except for a friend who doesn't get a chance to blog with her busy life, and hasn't blogged in a long while. I follow around 46 blogs now, and most are fairly consistent with their blogging, and I keep up with all of them. There are quite a few bloggers who never respond to my comments by making a comment on my blog, and that can be a little annoying. You would think if you put out the effort to comment, that they could at least say a little something. I don't get that, but still I follow their blogs and continue commenting.

Today I printed out a picture I had scanned of me and my mom when I was 5 years old (she was 32)... I made a birthday card for her, which is August 24th; she'll be 84. The writing on the card isn't so great, but I know she will love it because I made it. I will write LOTS of words on the inside, because I know how much that means to her.

Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there

And, Happy Mother's Day, to my mom.  You are a beautiful, vibrant woman, and I admire you greatly.  My love for you is as big as the sky.

snapshots from the Ragamuffin Parade

My mom

Kim, Melissa & Logan, and my sister, Tree

Logan was the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, and his mommy was a black cat.

Watching the Parade

Melissa, Logan, and his Godmother, Kim (dressed as Rainbow Brite)

(click pics to view larger images)

Logan at 5 months

starting to bear full weight on his legs

with great-grandma (my mom)

with mommy (my niece, Melissa)

blizzard a-comin'?

Tomorrow (starting tonight, actually) we are predicted to have near blizzard conditions. My mom, who cannot walk or stand, and needs an aide to transfer her, is worried that the aide may not be able to make it in. So, I told her to tell the aide to stay home, and I will go there tonight, and sleep over.

I went over to the Greek Specialty store, Hellas, and picked up a few goodies for the storm. Got some good Feta cheese, assorted Greek olives, stuffed grape leaves, a big piece of marbled Halvah, and these cookies (I don't know their name) that my mom loves. I forgot to get the pita bread, and will have to pick that up before I go there. What better excuse than a blizzard to munch out on some fun goodies.

making the best of things

(a true story about my mom, circa 1935)

Alex stuffed the folded newspaper into the soles of her shoes, and hoped hard that it would not rain that day. Her hopes were granted when she saw that it was a sunny day. Her aunt would give her the ten cents she needed for the train ride, back and forth,  to go on the class trip to a church bazaar.

She combed her straight brown hair, and put the comb in her pocket. Her aunt made sure she had a starched handkerchief folded into her dress belt.

She anticipated the exciting day, and rode with her classmates on the train. She made sure to keep her dress covering her knees to hide the scars she had from an operation when she was a baby, because she had an infection in the bone. The scars were wide and deep, and try as she might, she couldn’t help but limp because of the lack of growth on that leg. She always wore out the shoe on her “good side” first, and that one needed paper first. She was light and walked tippy toe on the other foot, but still the shoes couldn’t be replaced soon enough.

The kids laughed and got loud, and the Sisters quieted them down, threatening to take them back home if they didn’t behave.

They quieted down, with chirps of laughter peeling out involuntarily.

The Bazaar was beautiful with all sorts of Fortune wheels, and piles of stuffed toys just waiting to be won. Alex watched as her friends bid on lucky numbers, and squealed with delight at each ones winnings. She loved to listen to the Brrrr sound of the spinning wheel, and made believe she put her money on a number, and secretly hoped that she would win.

The train ride back home was jubilant, and the car floor was littered with ribbons and tissue papers from bazaar prizes won and cherished.

Alex bent down to pick up the colored tissue paper, and wrapped her comb in it, tying it with a stray ribbon. She held it high on the pole, as the train chugged along, smiling with the others, as if she, too, had won a prize.

thursday afternoon

I was out early this morning when it was gray and misty. Saw that the cherry blossom tree, a block away, was beginning to bloom. And several trees, budding lightly. Crocus and daffodils are popping up in front porch gardens, and the sparrows are starting to get loud in the morning.

This afternoon the sun came out, and warmed up the day. My mom came for a visit, traveling a long bus ride on her motorized wheelchair (she has MS, and cannot walk)... she is so amazing at 81. She is safely home now.

A lovely and unexpected thursday afternoon.

[mom & me, several years ago, at Atlantic City, Trump's Taj Mahal]

hometown

The "Creative Every Day" theme for this month, is "Words"... and so I thought I'd begin with a bit of personal history.

********




I have lived in Brooklyn all my life. Except those times when I lived somewhere else. I was born in Maimonides Hospital, which no one pronouces correctly, with the probable exception of Jews. I know how to pronouce it, but I am not Jewish.

When I was in the first grade, at Public School 169, I made my father an ashtray out of clay. I carried it home, holding it in both hands, intent on keeping if safe. I walked the two long blocks from seventh to fifth avenue. The street to the left of the sidewalk, the rock wall of Sunset Park to my right.

As I stepped off the curb, I studied my hands holding the ashtray, and in that split moment it fell to the street, and broke in too many pieces to ever be put back together again. That's what happens when you study your hands.


My mother would pick me up for lunch every day. We would go to Meyer's or Holstein's. Real Ice Cream Parlours. I ate tuna on light white toast, and a bowl of cream of chicken soup. Every day. Sometimes mom would make the tuna sandwiches, and we'd sit in Sunset Park, across from the school.
The park went from 5th avenue to 7th ave, and from 44th street to 42nd street. Diagonally to the park, on the 5th avenue side, was Sunset Bakery. My mom and dad's bakery.
Mom was brilliant with her full red lips, and vibrant laughter. Sometimes she'd have a box with my Young People's Book Club selections... bringing it along because she knew how hard I'd wait for them. My mother is 81 now... ever brilliant, though her full lips are a more demure shade of frosted pink. Her laugh is still full of life... despite all odds.