When Carol Shea died in early December, I lost a best friend and a sister; neither can be replaced. Although Carol is no longer alive in the physical body, she is very much with me almost daily. It sounds a little on the 'crazy' side but it is true. The same thing happened when Mama died; her presence was so strong in my home... at times it still is.
The day I wrote about Carol's death, I was crying and hoping if Carol could read her story, she would approve. She had died the day before and I was very heart broken, sorry and just a little mad that she did not tell me how sick she really was this past year. I was sitting at the computer rereading what I had written. Tommy was at Ben's. I was alone when I felt a hand touch my left shoulder. I jumped because I knew I was alone and I also knew what I felt. A feeling of assurance came over me. I knew it was Carol and I knew the blog pleased her. Although there is no rational explanation for what happened...happen it did.
Carol has visited my house, finding all the things she wanted me to have and use. For two years Carol was worried about my well water. She wanted me to use a Pur water pitcher for our drinking water. One day when we were shopping, she found the water pitcher she thought I needed and put it in my cart. I took it home and some how it fell behind the kitchen table and I never did use it. The third day after her death, I was cleaning off the table and found the Pur pitcher still in the box. She said in an almost audible voice, "Now will you get it out of the box and use it?" Yes mam! I did and I am still using it. Carol is pleased. I could almost hear her say, "About damn time".
I also found mysteriously two pot holders with cookie mix in them Carol bought for my birthday last year. They match my kitchen and I will make the cookies soon...another nod from Carol.
About three weeks ago, a photo of Carol, Punky and me turned up on my scrapbook table. I haven't scrap booked in four years. I should have put it somewhere safe...and I probably did but this morning I can't find it. If I do not find it today, I will probably wake up in the morning with it stuck to my forehead! I can see Carol doing this and laughing.
The other night Tommy and I watched a movie Carol tried to make us watch for two years. It was a remake of the "Walking Dead" or some crazy show like that. She loved horror stories...me not so much. I hated it and hopefully Carol will not want to watch it again, once was enough for me. If she does want to watch it, I hope she goes to Punky's house.
Needless to say, I miss my friend. Since I was a little girl, I have always had one special friend I was closer to than my other friends; as an adult, Carol was that friend. We shared a warped sense of humor. We used to say we would always be the best of friends because we knew too much about each other to ever stop being friends. We knew where all the bodies were buried and the stories that went with them. I hope some day I am blessed with another 'best friend'. Carol Shea was one in a million, she will never be replaced. However, I have a big heart and room for another one of a kind friend.
This isn't the missing photo but I like this one of us. It was made about five or six years ago before Carol and Punky got sick. We were celebrating Christmas at my house.
Yesterday was the first anniversary of Tommy's near death experience. Once again it was a long, just this side of horrible, day for me. Tommy on the other hand had a great day! He also slept through the fight for his life a year ago! His only memories of those days are what Lisa, the doctors and I have told him.
This year on the 3rd, the Weather Channel began posting weather warnings for our corner of the world. Snow was predicted to begin around 6 a.m. on Tuesday. The meteorologists were expecting a heavy, steady dry snow accumulating fast, making the roads treacherous. All schools were cancelled in advance. The state department told people to prepare for the storm and to stay off the roads. The expected snow amounts varied from 5 to 9 inches...we received 11 inches.
Sunday afternoon we receive an automated phone reminder from the V.A. stating Tommy has a blood draw on Tuesday...no doctor appointment just a blood draw. I asked him to call the V.A. Monday and postpone it until the end of the week or next week. He refused. He left it hanging saying, "I will see what the weather is like Tuesday morning." In Tommy Carter lingo that means, "I am going unless I can't get out of the driveway." I slept very little Monday night. I was worried about the whole situation. I had a bad feeling and I could not shake it. When we got up at 5:30 a.m. there was no snow. Tommy looked at me and said, "I am going." I reminded him the snow wasn't supposed to start until after 6 a.m. He told me I could stay home and he would be back by 8 a.m. I was drinking coffee and thought "I should stay home" all the time I was putting on my shoes. I would be better with him and know what is going on than at home imagining the very worst; besides, it wasn't snowing by now, and it was 6 a.m.
Reluctantly, I get in the car and off we drive to Columbia which is about 40 miles from where we live. The time is 6:06. Tommy turns on the radio and I try to loosen up. We have our thermo mugs with us; so far everything is fine. At 6:16 a.m. it starts snowing...a little; by 6:30 it is snowing a lot! Tommy turns off the bright lights so I can't see how hard the snow if falling. I ask him to turn around again...just in case the weather man is right. He became deaf and drove on. We really need to get his hearing tested...this happens often.
The closer to Columbia we drove, the worse the snow. We finally reach the V.A. and in we go. Not many people were there yet. Tommy was the second man waiting for blood draw. Since Tommy never meets a stranger, he sat down and started talking to the vet about the weather and how worried I had been on our drive to Columbia. The man looked at him and then looked at a lady sitting across the room. He said, "She's mad too". I guess she was, she wouldn't even sit close to him. I laughed. I knew exactly how she felt. The vet was not talkative nor was he in a good mood. Apparently, it was a very long drive for him. He said, "I should have left her at home!". Tommy said, "Mine wouldn't stay...I tried". I am laughing because I know there are wives all over the V.A. this morning, mad as heck and not sitting with their husbands. I wasn't sitting by mine either.
When you love someone, there is no way the two of you will ever agree on everything. I have discovered, the hard way, telling Tommy no or he shouldn't do something is a waste of time. He has to prove that he can do whatever it is that he should not do. Sometimes he can, other times he can't...but he will try regardless.
We made it home without any trouble. Last year on February 4th Tommy survived the horrible ordeal when something went wrong after the heart ablation. The doctors thought he would die, I was afraid he would die but Lisa, and you my friends and family touched God's ear and Tommy made it through. He lived and to this day the doctors do not know why...but I do and thank you all from the bottom of my heart. It has been a year of love, laughter and loss, however Tommy is still here and for that I am very thankful.
I've never had a beautiful style of handwriting. Family members have tried to attribute this fact to being left handed. I really don't think this has anything to do with it. I am always in a hurry when I write. The words come faster than my hand can move, resulting in a slanted mess of blurred words. Normally when I write, the words all dip to the right...some dipping so much they almost lay down on the paper. I have to decipher most of what is written so other people can understand what I am talking about; occasionally, after a few hours, I can't read it either.
This was the case one day last week. I wrote down our grocery list, giving Tommy his copy and one for items I would shop for elsewhere in the store. We had a meeting place in the store where we would eventually hook up...the toilet paper isle. It seems fitting in hindsight.
Off we go on our separate missions. I get mine done rather fast and I go searching for Tommy. I find him standing in the middle of an isle looking a little perplexed. I asked him what was wrong. This is when he informs me he cannot read my writing. After 44 years, I find this fact debatable. Tommy swore up and down he could not read it and from now on I would have to type out the grocery list.
I snatch it out of his hand and began reading the list aloud. I got most of it right, mainly through the power of deduction. Then I came to a word that even I could not recognize. I tried to remember what we needed that started with a 'C'. Crackers, coffee, cookies, chicken, corn meal all came to mind. Those words did not fit the image I had written. When I asked him about the items; he assured me we were fine in all areas. I looked again and still did not know so I thought I would make a joke while trying to lighten the mood.
I told Tommy I wasn't sure but I think I had narrowed it down to two things...crackers or a new couch! Tommy was not amused. He snatched the list out of my hand and proceeded to buy two boxes of crackers. I stood there laughing because I knew we had two boxes of crackers at home. Several days later, we still don't know what I wrote or what we needed. Evidently, we didn't need the missing item very much if at all.
I still think a new couch would have been nice...not necessary but nice.
I began our grocery list for next week's possible snow storm. There are a few emergency items we might need. He is soooo going to love reading this one:) Once again, I will be on the opposite side of the store when he shops. I can't wait to see what he comes up with for the word de-icer...I am leaving out the hyphen:)
The month of January is my 'Well Woman' check up month. In my mind it is a woman's version of the military induction physical.
I have been poked, probed and prodded all in search of a cell that may have gone rogue. It is necessary but very uncomfortable. The hardest part for me is the mammogram.
Breast cancer is one of the top killers of women in the United States. A mammogram often finds the cancerous cells and helps to save many lives. To do this requires a procedure right out of the days of King Arthur. It also hurts like hell! There is no other way to describe it...that puppy HURTS!!
The machine is about 8 feet tall, gray with a clear cold tray that is adjustable. Physicians want to make sure they have xrays of the breast from every possible direction.
On the cold tray is where the breasts lay, one at a time, while the machine proceeds to make temporary pancakes out of them. After the attendant gets everything in place, she hurries behind the xray machine to make sure the image will be correct. ( It is always a female technician who performs this procedure. I am sure it is for privacy sake and then there is always the possibility if it were a man...some unstable woman might shoot him dead!!)
The perky technician peeks out from behind the gray monstrous image gathering machine, to adjust 'just a little bit here' and to increase the pressure again. Followed by more pressure then 'one more little crank' to make sure you are not going to move or go anywhere ever again in your life! That is when she utters the sentence that never changes, "Hold still and don't breathe"! Honestly I couldn't move or breathe if I had to!! I am standing on my tiptoes, with my fingers crossed and always fighting the urge to pee or curse or both. When I started this procedure I was 5 feet 7 inches. I know I am taller than that now!!
The whole procedure is repeated until she is positive she has good clear images. I am told to slip on a gown and wait to make sure the images are readable. Most of my 'images' were readable. We had to redo one and then I was free to go. I dragged my poor boobs off the floor, threw them over my shoulder and proceeded to tiptoe from the hospital. Hopefully, I will not have to repeat this adventure until next year.
I am making fun of my experience, however I really do encourage every woman to have a mammogram .
Early detection of cancer saves lives each year.
My reward for the day??? A new purse and the best cookie and cup of hot coffee in the world!! It never takes much to make me happy.
My home is seldom quiet. There is nothing wrong with this fact except I am a person who needs silence a few hours each day. Tommy hates silence. He will not acknowledge his need for noise. In fact, he would argue this is not a correct statement... but it is. The way Tommy and I were raised created these tendencies or traits. He was born into a large family, one of eleven and I am an only child. He was raised with noise and people talking non stop. I was raised in a quiet home. The loudest noises were my 'imaginary friends'. Over the course of time, these little peculiarities become part of our personalities joining the fragments of who we are.
Noise and silence are occasionally at odds in our home, especially during the week of the full moon. Without a doubt, Tommy will crank up the volume on the t.v. remote. I often think he goes temporarily deaf during the full moon. I become a little 'edgy' and unfocused. Thank goodness for my sun room. I have needed that room all my life and did not realize how much until now.
I seldom write long stories during the full moon. I write in snippets, often jotting down notes, ideas, quotes, or fiddle with characters names; things to be used at a later date. To do this once again, I need silence. Usually, I read most of the week, almost non stop or I paint. I need silence to read and music to paint...go figure. I have an unfinished canvas on my easel now.
However, reading won the toss up this month. I read "Lone Survivor" this week and started "The Book Thief". There is no doubt, "The Lone Survivor" has control of my imagination and it is not ready to move on. I had to stop reading "The Book Thief" until "The Lone Survivor" has been digested and stored on a book shelf in my mental library. Right now there is no room for another book in my mind. That often happens with any good book. I think it could mentally be compared to letting go of a lover. The mind will always go back for more.
The Full 'Wolf Moon' began on January 15th triggering this need for quiet. The name is derived from Indian lore. Years ago during January, the wolves would howl at the moon when the ground was barren of food and covered in snow. We don't have any wolves in our area now. However, on the 15th the coyotes in our area were loud and close. They woke us up in the middle of the night, howling on our pond banks. They also woke up our German Shepherd, Sabella, who was asleep on the floor at the foot of our bed. She returned fire at the coyotes, scaring the hell out of us...so much for our full moon this month.
Today is quiet. Tommy is helping Jody work. The dogs are asleep. The only sound comes from the crackle of the wood stove and the pecking of my computer keys. My words are coming slow like they have been asleep and are in the process of waking up. It is a very soothing day in my corner of the world.
In about two hours Tommy should be home. I always cook when he is gone for the day. After retiring, we 'divided' up the house work. He does most of the cooking and I do the cleaning. When he fishes, hunts or helps Jody work, then I surprise him with a good meal. I am in the process of making spaghetti for supper. The silence has been nice but I am ready for him to come home and make some noise. It has been a nice day in my corner of the world...just a little on the quiet side.
Tommy and I have lived in mid Missouri for close to 35 years. We have endured all sorts of weather extremes. It can be hot as Hell here in the summer. There is no "dry heat" in Missouri. As soon as summer finally arrives,
the humidity bursts on the scene, seldom leaving for any length of time until Fall makes her entrance. If you should happen to have natural curly hair...you will not have a 'good hair day' for four months.
Winters vary in length and severity. Sometime the snow is measured in inches, at other times it is measured in feet. However, there are usually a few days in January when Missouri is allowed to conjure up the perfect spring day.
Yesterday was such a day. The temperature rose to 65 degrees. Last week the temperature hovered below zero for days on end. Wind chill records were broken all over the state. Yesterday made up for that week. It was a perfect day to be outside.
The day was sunny, windy and begged to be photographed. As much as I wanted to see the Broncos play football, I wanted to see the Missouri River more. I am glad we took the trip. The river was the prettiest color of azure blue. It is seldom that color however, the sunlight and the ice created a new look for a muddy river. The light reflections were intense. Looking at the water made me smile.
The ice chunks were beginning to break up as the water did its magic and silently moved through the cracks in its thick, frozen armor.
As soon as we arrived at the river I saw Missouri's answer to Stonehenge. I could not stay away from these broken trees and stacked rocks.
For over an hour I let my imagination roam freely.
It was a good day to be quiet, allowing nature to make all the noise. Like a pair of ink blots, Tommy and I tried to soak up as much beauty as we could.
After a few hours, it was time to take the long way home. The Broncos won without my help...that made me happy too. It was a good day in my corner of the world.
I am the proud owner of a pristine six year old treadmill. I know exactly what condition this treadmill is in, because I am the only owner this Trojan horse has had. I purchased her with great gusto and good intentions. It wasn't long until the 'newness' wore off. She became the extra closet I had needed for years.
I named her 'Rosie' after Rosie the Riveter, the all American girl of World War ll. Also exercising and going to war, in my mind are close, minus the bullets, gunfire and random acts of violence. When I first bought her home I was an avid walker for two weeks. After those two weeks I realized I had placed Rosie in the wrong room. I had her in the den close to my computer. When I tired of writing, I would hop on Rosie and walk off my frustrations and hopefully my urge for unnecessary commas. This did not last long at all. She took up too much floor space. I tripped over her when I turned out the lights and my dog hated the sight of Rosie. As soon as I started to walk on Rosie, Sabella would start barking. She barked the whole five minutes I was on there!
I knew something had to be done. I removed all the throw rugs, cleaned a path through the kitchen into the living room and finally drug Rosie's happy wazoo into the 'art room.' Now that was a workout!!! Thought I would die before I got Rosie through the bedroom aka 'art room' door. I will never move that horse again! I shut the door and promptly forgot about her, until the first of the year when I decided for the millionth time to get up and move...at least faster than a turtle. I made a pledge to walk in one of the Alzheimer marathons in the early summer. In order to do this I need to get in good condition. The treadmill is back in the game. Rosie has been recommissioned! I am watching my food intake and all that other healthy stuff I should have been doing all along. However, I felt like I needed a spark to get me going; something to ignite my imagination and make this life style change fun. I was on the prowl for a new gizmo.
Today I found that 'spark' at Walmart...a hula hoop!! She is bright pink with sparkles all over her. She makes noise when tossed around and she was cheap. What more could I ask for?? I was tempted to buy Tommy one too. They did not come in camo or he would have one of his own.
As soon as I placed her in the buggy a older gentleman standing near by started laughing and asked, "Are you really going to use that?"
"Of course I am. I will probably end up in the emergency room tonight but I am going to try. When I was nine years old, I played with one of these things all the time. I loved it. It should be great exercise!" I told him.
Still laughing he said, "It has been awhile since you were nine years old! Good luck with that!" and he walked off laughing.
I probably ran into that stranger three times before I left the store. He always wanted to talk about my 'hula hoop'. Before I knew it another gentleman had joined our conversation. When I took off to look for Tommy they waved as I walked away. Ladies, if you want to pick up a man in Walmart... put a hula hoop in your cart!! I don't understand it but I swear they were coming out of the woodwork to talk about the hula hoop!! Unbelievable!
What is worse, Tommy had about the same reaction! He wanted to know what on earth I was thinking. I explained it all to him and he walked off laughing. When I checked out I told the clerk I was buying this hula hoop for my granddaughter before we ever walked down that road again.
Right now the hula hoop is hanging on Rosie. Tomorrow is a new day and I am tired tonight. I will start with a brisk one mile walk in the morning and then after a short rest...10 minutes with the hula hoop. Sounds like a plan to me:) If you don't hear from me for a few days...I will be in Callaway Hospital.
