Kathy Remembered......

          Some days are longer than others.  Some weeks are endless. Others fly by at the speed of a juicy rumor in a small Southern town.The rumor can be all over town before the 9 a.m. sun has broken the sweat on the postman's back.  Most rumors add kindling to the fire, heating up but lacking substance.  This was what I was hoping for when I first heard my friend Kathy was sick. I heard she had cancer. I didn't believe it.....she would have told me.

         I worked nights at that time and my life was backwards to everyone else except my husband. I thought about friends and family but it was hard to keep in touch. When we were awake they were asleep. So  I lost touch with my "day friends' for awhile.

         It was just a "fluke" that I ran into Kathy at WalMart one Sunday afternoon. As always we were glad to see each other, and started talking just like we always did. We discussed family and then she told me that she started chemo treatments on Monday. My eyes welled up with tears...this rumor was true.

        I asked if she needed me to take her for her treatments, since my days off were Sunday and Monday.  She hugged me and said, "Good God YES"  Tears were in her eyes,also. She was going to get her pretty blond hair cut into a buzz later that night. She joked it that is would be "less to find on her pillow."

      We talked a little longer, I wanted to go out for a bite to eat.  She said, "Vicky, I can't eat. I can't get past the lump in my throat....even though the cancer is in my breast."  I felt like I was going to throw up too. We hugged and she told me to pick her up at 8 a.m.

        I finished my shopping and drove home. I don't even remember that drive. I guess I was on auto pilot. I kept thinking about what tomorrow would bring.

       I have always said that the good Lord may have short changed me on looks but He gave me a big, loving heart and enough empathy for two people. I can literally feel at times how another person actually feels. Not always pleasant but quite often necessary---to be able to understand the circumstances of the person I am involved with. Whether friend or patient at the mental facility I worked at---it was my best asset----that and a good sense of humor.

        The next day I picked Kathy up....and off we went, on the scariest adventure of her life.  We talked all the way to Columbia.  Making plans for things we were going to do after she got to feeling better and for things to do while the treatments were going on.

        I love to "road trip".  In another life I am sure I was a gypsy.  She never had a chance to go a lot, so we were going to change that.  She was excited. She wanted to go to Hannibal, to the Lake of the Ozarks again, gambling on the boat. And she wanted to explore reincarnation.  Whatever she wanted to do---we would do.

       Soon we were at the hospital, checked in and waiting to be called for her treatment. She asked if I could go back with her. They were so nice and supportive of her. "Absolutely, that's what friends are for".

      I excused myself for a second, got a bottle of water and took a xanax!!!!  I had long past being scared but I didn't want Kathy to know that. She had enough on her mind.  She started laughing as soon as I walked back in the room..."Take your xanax yet?"  "Hell, yes!!!!! How did you know?"  Kathy said ," because you have needed one for over an hour.  You know Vicky, you are better than watching t.v.!!!!"  Somewhere in there came a response from me to the affect of "thanks alot shithead"  The tension was broken and we were laughing like two high school girls.

      In fact, we laughed and joked as they hooked her up to the I.V. drip---we joked about glowing in the dark and all sorts of sick humor that stayed with us through the next months. She was given a handful of pills and one of them was an Ativan.  Kathy never took anything stronger than an aspirin, and when the Ativan kicked in---she got a buzz.  For about an hour she had a whole new out look on cancer!! I laughed because she had no clue what was going on. She said "she felt better than she had in months"---no doubt.

     The treatment lasted 3 hours. She was given ice to suck on to keep her mouth from drying out. After the treatment was over, they took us to a room to pick out a wig for her.  The nurse said I could "play" too and so for over an hour we tried on wigs. We laughed, we booed and we decided that I could never be a blond. She finally settled on a short blond wig and it looked pretty on her.

      On the way home the Ativan wore off.  We had to stop and get prescriptions filled. While we were standing in line, Kathy decided I needed a wig. Hmmmmm  I didn't want a wig. But the following Monday we took off looking for me a wig. That was a fun day. She was feeling pretty good and was determined to find me a wig.  We did at the last shop.  I even liked it.  I don't know why it made her feel better but when we went out----we both wore our wigs.

      Kathy beat the odds that time ,but just before her five year anniversary of being cancer free---she got cancer again. A stage 4 that went all over her body.  Another friend stepped in this time. A lady named Kathy from St.Louis. She moved in with Kathy and her family and helped to take care of her. I was on the fringes this time.  I had transferred to days, had a granddaughter that I took care of a much as I could. I saw them often, but my part had been played.

      Kathy died a few years ago. I still miss her. I guess the reason I have been thinking so much about her today, is because I saw March flowers blooming in the snow. Kathy did not have a green thumb---and she would get so pissed when Daffodils bloomed in the snow...because she couldn't grow flowers under the best of conditions.  One year she even planted fake flowers---just to see if she could kill them!!! After all the heat, the rain and winds the fake flowers looked horrible.  After that she quit with the flowers.  I gave her a bamboo plant when she first got sick. She loved that plant. It was tough---she couldn't kill it.

       We never did agree on reincarnation. She ended up believing in it whole heartily. But she said she never wanted to come back to Earth again. She hoped her lessons were learned.. It was interesting to talk about, to question.  I hope she is at peace wherever she is.  Although, I do think it would be funny if that March flower blooming in my front yard was her. I say Hi to her everyday---just in case.

   

Postcard Trading ---A New Hobby or a New Addiction?

          In the middle of winter while everything was either covered in snow or mud, I discovered a new hobby---Postcard Trading. 

          I always bought postcards when we were on vacation.  Since I scrapbook, journal and blog, it always helps to have a photo to add to whatever I am writing.  When I can get the words and pictures to mesh, I am delighted.  When I can't --I am related to Satan's spawn for an hour or two!!!  It  eventually passes and I go on to some other way to convey what I want to say.

          It has been a long winter.  I mean LONG!!!  LONG!!  LONG!! winter.  I had plenty to do but I really wanted something new and exciting to try.  Something I have never done.  Enter Postcard Trading.  I have met people from all over the world and exchanged cards, letters, jokes, and sorrows.  I have made some friendships that I hope last a lifetime. If I have anything to do with it they will last.

         I knew nothing about trading cards.  Since I live in Missouri, people are not exactly knocking down my  mail box for cards.  After we exchange state capitals, state flags, state maps and state birds---that is pretty much it for Missouri. 

        This is where the quest began to dig up facts about Missouri,and to dig into my mind and find out what I really want to collect. I have lived in Missouri for 32 years and I knew very little about the history of the state.  Heck, even I didn't care.  So I have started digging into the past and Missouri has quite a history.  I am still working on the facts and fiction of this state, and will blog on it later when I learn what is really true.

       However, that left me stuck with what I wanted to collect.  From the people I have met I tell them the truth.  I want to see their part of the world through their eyes. I want to hear stories about places that mean something to them but that I will never see.  I want to learn about their religion, culture and their day to day life.  The people I have met have been wonderful about sharing their lives and cards.

      I was sitting outside in the swing, drinking a cup of coffee and reading  " I Am Number Four" when Nelo and his family ran through my mind. I knew they had had a great weekend, because I read a couple of posts from him.  And for about 30 minutes, I wondered what they were doing.   

      Then there is Ayako and Misae from Japan.  They are never out of my thoughts and prayers.  I really don't know how much my prayers help--since I have at times a rather rambunctious potty mouth and my sense of humor quite often gets me in trouble....but I think God knows my heart.  I think He understands that this time when I ask I am scared, humbled, and at a loss to help. He can do what I never could and I so I ask Him to take care of Japan.  I ask Him all the time to help them not be afraid.

      Then there is Sergey in Russia, raising a 16 year old daughter by himself.  He loves her so much.  I wish for him strength, wisdom and peace of mind....and eventually a new love.

     Another young woman  I have grown fond of is Ria.  She could be my daughter, we are so  much alike.  She would fit in perfectly in my family.  I hope she is getting some rest.  She is pulled in a lot of different directions, just like the rest of my family. I remember those days so well--never enough time for all that needed to be done. Not to mention the things I wanted to do.

       The list could go on and on of wonderful people.  All with a story, a life,  maybe very different from mine but so interesting.

       I don't know how long I will collect and trade postcards, hopefully a long time.

       I do know that people come in and out of our lives.  Some come for a reason, others for a season, and some to stay.  Whatever the outcome, I am indeed enjoying the experience.

History Repeats Itself---Sort Of

        Yesterday while I was working on another blog, Tommy came running in the house.  His hand was on his cheek and there was blood dripping through his fingers.  It appears that he had been splitting kindling and a piece broke off, flying up and slapping him hard on his left cheek. Blood was everywhere, so were splinters and curse words!!  We headed for the bathroom, both of us wanting to fix the problem.

        As usual we had two different ways in mind.  Since it was his cheek, and he was not listening to me, I stood by with a wet wash cloth, a magnifying glass and some Motrin!!!  Complete with a lot of moral support and  many unwanted suggestions.

        Tommy has been on a blood thinner since he had his heart attack in 2007 and he bleeds very easily.  It is much harder to stop the bleeding now.This is very frustrating for Tommy. Finally, it did stop bleeding.

       I put some ointment on it and a band aid, got him a cup of coffee and we talked for a few minutes.  He started watching t.v. and I went back to writing.

       About thirty minutes later, he walks into the den---bleeding again!!!  Only this time he is happy!!!!  I ask him what went wrong, and he told me "nothing, I just SHAVED the place where I go hurt to get rid of the SPLINTERS!!!!  For once in my life---words escaped me. I couldn't believe what he had just done!!! I tried to see the "shaved area" and all I saw was a big red angry patch of skin !!!!  If skin could talk, Tommy would have been in deep, deep trouble.

       However, Tommy was pleased. He even wanted me to take a picture of his boo boo.  I did . He went back to the living room and I tried to write. I kept  thinking about another time, years ago when Tommy got another whack on the face. Since this story won't go away or be quiet, I might as well share it.

      One day I may forget what happened to Tommy yesterday, but I will never forget the first time the he got hit in the face while the girls and I were with him.

      It is as vivid in my memory, as if it happened yesterday----and it has been 31 years ago.  I was 7 months pregnant with Melodi.  It was a warm, sunny day and we were headed to Hermann to visit friends. We had the windows all rolled down, the music was playing on the radio.  Lisa was about 8 and Tami was close to 3. They were in the back seat, looking at the Missouri River as we crossed the bridge.  Tommy was driving about 50 mph and life was good. We were all in a good mood, Laughter came easy that afternoon.

       Out of nowhere--literally no where--a bird flies through the car window and slaps Tommy in the head.  His left cheek to be exact!!!!


      The bird lands between Tommy and me--dazed, flouncing around not sure exactly what to do. I look at Tommy and he is beyond stunned!!!  He has never had a bird fly through a window and slap him up beside his head!!!  I venture to say, not many people have.  His face is red and he looks at me, to verify that what he thinks happened--just did.
 
      I am laughing so hard that I am starting to cry!!!  This seems to tick Tommy off---but I did not care!!!!  Some things are just too outlandish to believe.

      I remember him saying  "Well, I am glad you find this so damn funny!!**!  I squeaked through the laughter and tears  "Me too!!!"

      About this time the bird revives and flips himself into the back seat---right between the girls!!!  The bird is flipping around, I am trying to catch it!!!  The kids are screaming and the bird is pooping all over everyone!!  Feathers are flying and I am in an uncontrollable state of hysterical laughter. We are in heavy traffic and all hell is breaking loose in our car.

       I am still laughing--uncontrollably. I get the bird and I think I threw him in the river!!  I turn around and tried to get calmed down, but I was so far beyond calm it was impossible..  I know in my heart that if we had plunged off that bridge, on that particular day, I would literally have died laughing.  Some memories are priceless. For us, and especially me, this is one of them.

     I have been blessed with an odd, off beat funny life. This is why I am always saying to people to be sure and make a memory each day. Memories are precious and get more so the older we get. Enjoy life, look for adventure and savor the little unexpected surprises that comprise an enjoyable life.  Even if it is bird poo!!!

On Aging and the Weather

         What is it about getting older that makes us so concerned about the weather?  I remember when I was a young mother, and we were just starting out in life, I never knew what the weather was going to be for the next day, much less the next week.  I didn't care. I had other things to be concerned with.

        However, my mother, who usually lived in Kentucky, would call me at least twice a week and give me the weather update.  Since I live in Missouri, most of the "bad weather" had to go through us, to get to them.  Mama was ever vigilant, and totally terrified of storms.  I, on the other hand, liked storms.  I enjoyed the smell, the colors and outrageous ferocity that usually accompanied a "good storm".

       Mama could never understand this. And because she couldn't understand, she became my own personal weatherman.  God, I miss her!!! 

      If the phone rang before 8 a.m.---I knew we were in for some kind of bad weather!!!   I would answer the phone and hear her sweet soft Southern drawl. "Honey, have you checked the weather channel today?"  "No, Mama I just got the kids on the bus, and I am having my second cup of coffee.  What's up?"

     Well, I knew when I said those words, I was in for at least 30 minutes of more information than I cared to hear. I got the low down on weather for 4 states around.  I received weather instructions, disaster precautions and preventions.

     When she was finally satisfied that we would all live, she would ask me what my plans were for the day--if we survived.  Just to be aggravating I would usually say. "I think I will go shopping!" I can hear her now!!!!  "You are gonna what????" Didn't you hear ANYTHING I said???"  I'd laugh and tell her I loved her and I had to go.
      
        My how the worm has turned!!!  Now I am the "official weather watcher and reporter"   for our family.  We are pretty much stretched from Kansas City to Naples, Florida.  Throw in Kentucky and Tennessee for good measure. 

      I keep everyone informed on the approaching storms.  I always put in my two cents worth of "things to have on hand in case of emergency" and question whether they really need to go to work, to town or to the beach that day.  I hear them smile. I know they love me and I also know they can't wait to start texting each other about my phone call concerning the weather.

        I have decided that caring about the weather is linked with getting older.  I now have time to watch the weather. Time to check the dawns and sunsets. Time to report my findings to the people I love best.

        Mama has been gone for almost two years, and I miss her terribly. I think she laughs every time I call the girls about the weather. 

       I also think at times, I can almost hear her say, "stay home today--you can always go to town tomorrow".  Then faintly, so soft it barely reaches my imagination, so low I can only hear a wisp of "I love you----you turned out to be a pretty good weatherman yourself." Then a soft chuckle lingers for a half second and I am alone, again.

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