FOREVER FI-FI

Last October, the sorority house mother asked my daughter if she would be interested in helping out with an elderly lady, Miss Fahn, who lived alone. Miss Fahn is 97. 

I know that my daughter, without asking many questions, answered, "Oh hell yes!"

That particular moment, Addie's life changed.

All she said to me was, "Mom, I just spend the night and make sure she does not fall.  She is afraid of falling".

Sounded simple enough and my daughter likes a spray tan membership, a Pilates membership and a Rent the Runway membership.  The paycheck from the Pendergrass Library was not cutting the membership fees.

After the first night, I saw on Lifetime 360, Addie driving at 6am.  I wasn't sure it was a bad or a good thing.  "Mom, it was easy, she goes to bed early, before Sean Hannity, and gets up early.  I didn't sleep and it was 90 degrees in the house."

I was amused by this whole arrangement.

As I stalked her movements on Lifetime 360, I noticed the arrival times were earlier, and the nights were more frequent.

And then she started calling after "Fi-Fi" went to bed.  "Fi-Fi" is not her real name. When Addie loves someone, they get a nickname, and they keep that nickname. Period.

I was amused at what she was learning.  No Wi-Fi, no smart TV's, high temperatures and current events.  The channel stayed on one station, Fox News.  To quote my daughter, "I have never been so up on current events".

She learned all about Fi-Fi.  Her first job, her husband Jack, a former Marine who retired and started his own business.  They never had children.  Addie never had the courage to ask why.

All along Miss Fi-Fi said, "I want to die in Jack's chair".  "If I fall, they will (distant family members) will send me to the home.  I am not going to the home."  NO pressure Addie.

And in no time, Addie had her sorority over to put up Christmas trees and decorate the house, Addie would take her for pedicures, listen to stories and bake cakes.  

And so many nights, when college life seemed too much, Addie retreated with Fi-Fi.  And so many a morning, before the sun was even up, I saw my daughter on the move.  Another successful night of not falling.

Sadly, Addie never met one grandmother, and her other grandmother passed before she was twenty. 

I am not sure it became a grandmother/granddaughter relationship, but I like to think that it was.

Addie would swing by the sorority house, grab lunch for Fi-Fi, clean her house, sit with her when "important" people had meetings, met distant family members (even trashed talked them with Fi-Fi after the visit was over). 

Addie would park her truck at Fi-Fi's and leave for the weekend and Fi-Fi learned about UBER drivers and one video Fi-Fi told the driver, "Take care of my best friend".

Addie had to call her and let her know she arrived safely.  Addie had arrived in Baltimore for the big NYC graduation trip.  It was on the train that Addie handed me this card.

Yes, I bawled.  

It never occurred to me that Addie was bringing, life, current day life lessons, sunshine, energy and companionship and something to look forward to. 

And as days till graduation were getting close, my daughter had angst.  "What was going to happen to Fi-Fi?"  

Addie set up interviews and nobody passed the test.  

After classes ended, Addie and Fi-Fi were together all the time.  Multiple trips to Wal-mart and Lowes.  Spring had arrived in Knoxville and Fi-Fi wanted to spruce up the house.

Ferns, plants, you know the springtime drill.

My favorite picture of Fi-Fi is in Addie's truck, sunglasses and all.

I cannot imagine what was talked about in the truck.  A 97-year-old and a 21-year-old.  

And graduation day arrived. The plan was always that we would pick her up and have attend the ceremony with us.  I had a hunch the plan would not go as planned and I was correct.

It was too much.

Instead, we visited with her afterward.  Delightful.  

Addie was going to be in Knoxville for two weeks following graduation.  This meant endless trips to Fi-Fi's taking valuables to her basement.  And visiting. 

Addie shared with me a story that Fi-Fi told her.  Jack always kept his money from the business, stashed up in the seat of his truck.  He didn't trust banks.  One day, his truck was stolen.  It wasn't the truck that he was upset, it was the stash under the seat that set him ablaze.  As it turned out, the truck was recovered.

The first thing Jack did when he went to his truck? You guessed it.  He stuck his hand up under the driver's seat.

When he got home, he said, "Fi-Fi, that was one dumb ass thief, the seat was worth more than the truck".

She would call later in the evening, after Fi-Fi went to bed, and keep us updated.  She laughed so hard at that story.

And she shared that Fi-Fi was going to marry Jack, long before Jack even asked her on a date.  They talked about life, love, experiences and God. 

On our way to Nashville for the Big girl move for the Big Girl job, we had to stop at Fi-Fi's and get the things in the basement and the sofa.  And we said our goodbyes.

It was heart crushing.  Because, I am certain, in that bedroom that day, all three of us knew, we knew things were going to change.

And they did.

Two weeks after Addie left, the big fall happened.

And I will give it to Fi-Fi, she was right.  

Miss Fi-Fi passed away last night.  Not in Jack's chair, but in Jacks's house and Jack's bed.  Close enough. Thirty-two days before she turned 98.

She will never know the absolute gift she became to a 22-year-old woman, my daughter, and to me.

My mom and my grandmother were totally instrumental to me at that age and Addie was able to have Fi-Fi. 

Addie learned the real meaning of friendship and love.  And giving.  Not monetary gifts, but gifts from the heart.  Time. Positive energy and joy.  And the gift of letting someone know they matter.

On the last day of their spring shopping ventures, Fi-Fi saw a little yellow rose bush.  She was going to buy and then decided not.  Some close by shoppers watched this whole thing transpire, and as Addie and Fi-Fi were walking to the truck, they came up and gifted the rose bush to Fi-Fi.

She was delighted.  And even Addie was taken back.  Last Saturday when Addie was there, she said out loud to me, but, not really to me "I wonder how those yellow roses are doing?"

Those were the last flowers and the last gift that she ever received.  And she had not a clue as to who the folks were that gave them to her.  Random acts of kindness matter.  

So, cheers to a life well lived.  Here's to unusual friendships.  And here's to Fi-Fi, forever in our hearts.  

 

Change of address...Ugh

Last Thursday, I moved our daughter from Knoxville, Tennessee to Nashville, Tennesse where she will start her first "big girl" job.

 My husband was a little sad he wasn't asked to participate.  In my words, "she gave you a gift."

I arrived on Thursday. 

 

In her apartment, the same apartment for the last three years, it was sad, "packed up", filled with crates, labeled and organized.  Two of the roommates were gone and Addie, literally had one foot out the door.  Reese was "rotting on the couch".

My daughter was all over the place, sad, happy, excited, nervous and anxious.  I have been there.

As she ran one last errand, I decided to take one last walk around Knoxville and campus.

I needed to walk after the trip.  

I love Knoxville.  I loved her experience at UTK.  I loved the person my daughter had become at UTK.

And again, I was sad.  I was going to miss it.  I hate the color orange, but I love Tennessee orange.  The colors on campus were lovely and there is nothing like a college campus at the end of semester.  Very few people, quiet, clean and neat.  Delightful.

And as much as I loved my walk, I was sad.  I was sad she is leaving Knoxville; I wasn't ready for it to be over. I was not done with Knoxville.  I love UTK.  Why?  This is why she was here...so she could learn and leave.  Ugh.  

Or was it because she leaving and moving further away and really flying on her own?

And sadly, there was nothing I could do.

The three of us went to Cruz's for ice-cream...Addie went to say goodby to some friends, I said goodbye to Reese and went to bed.

Five came quickly.  IT was like Christmas morning.  And my daughter was in rare form, aka, mean and on a mission. 

Our first stop was U-Haul. Charles, who moved like a snail, was our "customer service representative.  He asked Adeline her name, she responded, and he says, "are you sure Out of Line?"

Game on Charles.

My favorite memories will always be Addie running back and forth to her truck, getting the pins and other things that she needed to attach the hitch and trailer and being so organized.  (Actually, the previous owner, Ginger, she was the one organized)

Next stop, her elderly friend, Miss Fawn, where we had to grab her new sofa, etc. and get it into the trailer asap before the thunderstorm came.  We beat it.  But barely. The two of us running with a sofa, into a U-Haul, will never leave my memory.

She arrived at her new humble abode.

I arrived an hour later.

There is nothing like your first place.  Hers is nice but even if it was a rate infested dump, she would have thought it was the Taj Mahal.  She would never forget this place.  Ever. 

We unloaded; she bossed me around.  I did what I wanted to do.  She followed me around to make sure that I was listening. Only one time did I flip her off when she turned around.  Only once.

Guess she had grown up a little since the collegiate drop off four years ago.  She was much better. 

And then, she announced that we need to drive through all parts of Nashville, with a trailer, to pick up a mattress and box springs from two different people, in two different areas on a Friday afternoon.  And we were picking up a mattress from a stranger.  I was appalled, literally appalled and convinced that she would get an STD from the mattress.

In the coolest part of town, we drove up, U-Haul in tow, and meet Hailey.  Adorable Hailey.

She slept on the mattress three times, still had the plastic on it.  She was going to donate it, but she could not carry it herself and she needed to get it out of the apartment before Saturday. 

We carried that puppy, STD free, to the trailer.  

Seriously, who moves three hours away, drags the 64-year-old mother along, has nowhere to sleep, and makes it happen for $75 and with zero diseases?

As it turned out, Addie furnished her whole room for $425 off Facebook Marketplace and $150 for a cowhide rug.  Unreal.  Years ago, I took her to a Thrift Store for a Halloween Costume, and she had a meltdown.  She was horrified that someone else had worn these clothes.  Never did I expect for her to furnish her room from Facebook Marketplace.  

A funny sidenote, my friends worked at the Thrift store and gave me two sweatshirts from there.  One Steelers, one UTK.  Never told her where they came from and that Steelers sweatshirts is one of her favorites.  

After the obligatory mom trip to Ross's and Walmart, I simply said, "it is 7pm (and Nashville is an hour behind), we have not eaten all day, and I need a shower, a burger and a cocktail."

We went out for her first night out, in her new city.  We sat at the bar and a fellow came up to us and said, "It is so nice to see a young girl hanging out with her mom".

It was only because I could drive the U-Haul.

It was a quick first night out for both of us.

Saturday morning came quickly.  Why do you always sleep so fast when you are tired?

A great breakfast, a nap and a trip to drop off our friend the U-Haul. It was a little sad.

And then, I had to say goodbye to my daughter. So hard.   She has no idea that I drove for about two miles and then I had to pull over, bawl my eyes out and get my shit together.  

I wanted a new place to live; I wanted new bed linens and a new beginning.  I wanted a do over.  A do over on life.  I wanted zero creases on my face and eyes, I wanted new friends to live with, and new experiences and I wanted to be as fat as I thought I was at 23 and wanted the new experiences and excitement.  I wanted to do with her.  And watch.  And share her successes and lift her up when her days are awful. I wanted that whole Mary Tyler Moore show for her, and I wanted to be there with her. Rhoda. 

But she forwarded her address, and it is in a totally different state than mine.

I got my act together and continued and started home.

As I passed Knoxville, I saw the U-Haul where the journey started. I started laughing.

And she called me a few times.  That made me feel better.  

Her address is different...but she still lives in my heart.  

I will see her less, we will see her less because that was the plan.  Love them, teach them, encourage them, give them tools, stand aside and let them succeed.  

And it rips your heart out. It is so hard.  Easy to say, hard to do. 

I just did not see that posted on the change of address form.  

The Real life ending, Not the Cinematic one

 

This is the conclusion of a post from August of 2021...."The Real Drop-off,Not the Cinematic One.  

Friday, Addie graduated from the University of Tennessee in Knoxville.

Sidenote, I love the UTK.  Love it.  If you have a child interested, it is awesome.  Cannot say enough positive things about the University of Tennessee.

Was I excited, yes, of course. Especially for her.  And she secured a job and is moving to Nashville May 30th.  All was going according to HER plan.  

But I was also nervous.  Walker was flying from Wyoming and that causes uneasiness for any mother and I knew my daughter would be off the charts.  Any mother of any daughter knows what I mean about this term.  Off the charts.  Bossy, nervous, dramatic and mean. 

And true to form, before I was even out of the house on Thursday...Addie called me.  As we were talking, I mentioned something about a picture.  Off the charts, "how could you pick that picture? Worst picture ever...seriously mom."  And this was the start.  Cannot wait.

This is the "worst picture ever."

And in the car, the typical Franklin versus Stephanie driving fight.  A family favorite.

Nine hours of driving marital bliss.

We arrived in Knoxville and checked in with half of the East Coast.  We called Addie.  We are here.

"I am not ready.  Where are we eating?  Where is your hotel?"

I told her where we were staying and we decided on some place...only because they had fried pickles, 

"See you in 30 minutes".

As we were driving, I said, "I have been here before, I know this place."

As I look up, I said "Franklin, this is the same restaurant that we ate at when we dropped her off!" The same place where she had a meltdown, we agreed to let the kids take the car and explore Knoxville while we consumed alcoholic beverages. 

We walked in and laughed.  Grabbed a spot in the bar, ordered the fried pickles and waited for her arrival.  She walked in... happy to see us.  I asked her, "recognize anything?"  She looked around and with a little prompting, it clicked.  "We sat right there".  We could not believe it.  All of the restaurants in the area, what were the odds.

And she was nice.  

"See you tomorrow."

We arrived with the other half of the east coast to the Thompson Boiling Arena.  I hopped out of the car...getting seats...and Walker climbed out too.

As I was walking up to the event, I ran into the one person that I wanted to see.  A sweet fellow that was a very good friend to Addie, that I adore and he has had an insane last three weeks of college.  I held on to him sobbing, crazy and then pushed him away and said, Go have fun."  It was that push, hit me over the head...so many things were ending and so many things were going to be different.

I do not believe in coincidences...I do believe that God puts you in places with people when you need to be there.  

I saved out seats and just sat there.  How was I there?  Today was Walker's 23rd birthday as well.  I remember being as big as a house on his first birthday.  His little body, his blonde hair, digging into a chocolate cake...and she was 9 weeks later.  

Seriously, cereal box projects, dioramas, Dance recitals, cheerleading competitions, ear piercing, braces, spray tans (ughs), everything.  

And once that graduation march started, I was numb.  Franklin was at the other end, and I was glad about our seating arrangements, because I think I would have grabbed him and lost it. 

I saw her come from under the tunnel and I stood up waving, Like a lunatic.  She was looking up, knowing that I would be the one...and she saw us.  Her teeth and her smile.  I was very proud of her.

During this whole ceremony, I kept thinking about how all three of my kids had graduations, and zero grandparents were there.  Covid, corresponding graduations, deaths, it made me sad.

And then, after announcing so many names, it was time to switch the tassel and throw the cap, it was over.

Just like that.  Done.  

We took our pictures with Smokey...the cute little hound dog mascot.  I love his statue.  And we went for our celebratory lunch, graduation and a birthday.

And then a trip to meet and visit with Addie's 97-year-old friend, Miss Fawn.  Delightful.

And then we napped for ten minutes, brushed our teeth and headed back to downtown, the party for Addie and 11 other friends.

The moms were setting up and as we finished, close to 7pm, I looked over the balcony and there was my daughter.

It was at that moment that it ALL hit me.  She was dressed up in party attire, with her girlfriend, on the streets that had been her home for four years.  She loved Knoxville.  She loved being a Volunteer.  When I was looking down over the balcony and that precise moment, she looked like a woman, not a little girl, but a woman.  And her smile was a mile wide.  I took in the moment and then yelled across the street.  If I didn't, I would have bawled my eyes out.

She entered the party and said, "mom this awesome" (I was prepared for the, take this down, it looks goofy or mom, seriously, no.)  She was nice.

And we had a great party.

It was the next morning that we said goodbye to both kids.  One going back to Wyoming, one packing up her place for the move to Nashville.  

Sat in the car, same old fight about the driving...but I was deep in thought.  With everything going so well, why did I feel hollow or let down or somber? Why?  She was organized, had her act together and all was well.  So why was I sad?

My daughter was grown.  Confident.  Eager for the next adventure.  Still a little mean.  She was so excited about her new place and particular about what was going in there and how it would look in the new place...she was excited.  

I remember being excited about my first place.  And my first job.  And starting over again.  New friends and new adventures.  

What would I do differently?  Would I do anything differently? Men? Careers? All of it. 

 I could tell she was nervous about it, but she had a confidence that I am pretty sure I didn't have.

And she said something pretty profound, "I came here with the goal of leaving with a degree. I accomplished my goal.  Now to the next one."

I guess I was sad for me. I wasn't done with Knoxville.  I loved it there too.  I have always felt we got cheated out of Knoxville.  My mom was diagnosed two weeks before Addie got there...and I spent her freshman year going to Florida, not Knoxville.  I have no regrets, it just all went to fast.  

I thought about the drop off versus the pack up and how different they were and how different she was...a teenage girl and now a woman.  

Every Saturday night, I would eagerly wait for Mary Tyler Moore to come on...my role model.  The person I wanted to be.  Even with the Murphy bed.  That apartment and that career.

And that hat throw, Making it after all.

That was my girl...making it after all. Go VOLS!

Do you ever just cry over nothing, or maybe a million things?

Your typical Saturday morning, I walk with my "Saturday morning therapy session walking partner", discuss the world, including the depression of many young people and kids coming and going.

I came home, started my list and had a moment.  

In the last 10 days, Addie lost a friend, three weeks before graduation and her favorite fraternity lost a brother.  Unnecessary death, car accident.  The driver survived.  But did he? He will be plagued forever.

I have not been able to shake it.  I cannot look at the Go Fund Me page one more time where I see donations of $10, $15 and $20 and how those donations meant everything to the donator and so much more to the family of Johnny.  I have thought about those fraternity brothers being ushers and speaking and services and I am crushed. None of this was on the syllabus for the seniors. 

And in between all of this, one son left to go out West and follow his dream.  My daughter is graduating and moving to Nashville.  Both of these are good things. Things I wanted for my kids. And my friend is sick.  The fight of her life. 

It was after I stopped at Walgreens to pick up some photos and a razor that I had the melt down.

I sat at the red light and watched a young mom load three kids into the car at the McDonalds I would treat my three kids.  

I reached down to feel my legs when I realized that I was so old, there was not hair on my legs anymore.  Why did I even get a razor? I watched that lady with her kids...looks like they had been playing baseball at Western Park.  And I lost it.

It was everything.  My sick friend, a young death, I haven't seen one son in a year and half, my other son was gone for seven months, and my daughter was moving 11 hours away...so I will be seeing her less and less.  

And what a self-absorbed person I am for crying over this when a mom buried her son yesterday.

And for two hours, I cried.  Over nothing but over everything.  Why is it, that these cries always happen in the car?  

I thought about two mothers, the one who buried her son and the one in the McDonalds parking lot.  

There was a time, like yesterday, that I hauled three kids from T-Ball and Baseball.  I packed snacks, washed uniforms late at night and set an alarm to wake up and get them in the dryer just so I wouldn't be "that mom". I was always frantic, very seldom sat down and my motto was "fake it till you make it."

And we did.  All three kids are fine.  They are happy and making their own way.  Was I crying because they made it with or without me or because they were as independent as I hoped they would be?

Or was a crying because the loss of hair on my legs really did mean that I was on the downhill slide and I had regrets?

Do I have regrets? Yes.  I did not realize I had regrets until I saw that mom in the McDonalds parking lot.

I regretted that I worried about fingerprints when my kids were little, I regretted that I didn't lay down with them when they were little for naps, I cleaned the house.  I regretted working so much, not taking more maternity leave, or just simply stopping at 5pm. I regretted all the time I barely looked up at my husband when he came home from work, and I continued working.

I regretted the phone calls I didn't pick up and the ones I didn't make.  I regretted the friendships I didn't end sooner and the ones I didn't cultivate.  I regretted the Saturdays I cleaned house and didn't spend more time outside.  I regretted sweating the small stuff like the night walker got in the car and sat on the pumpkin cake (even though I reminded him) on the way to Boy Scouts.   I regretted "Saturday Sheet Day" instead of implementing "let's go do something fun Saturday."

 I also regretted leaving my mom because I thought she had more time.

 Did I mention May is ALS Awareness Month and I feel like a heel because I haven't done more to raise awareness?

I drove to my next errand stop, the dreaded party store and I watched a younger woman help her mom out of the car and into the nail salon.  Just what I needed.  I watched this and all I could think of was "my daughter will be in Nashville, and I will have to hobble in their myself with nasty old lady feet."

I picked up the phone to call my daughter, but she was busy.  Of course, she had no idea I was rubbing my hairless legs, bawling and she was busy.  

I walked into the party store to pick up the third, "one last thing for Addie's grad party" that only I cared about or would even notice.  I walked about to the counter and both girls working behind the counter said, in unison, "Love your shirt".  I looked down because I could not remember what it said (Jacks, Pickles, Biscuits and Beer) and laughed.  They asked me where this place was, and I told them we ate there when I took my daughter to NYC for her graduation present.  They were so into it...I ended up showing them pictures of food and where it was and then they said, "what a great memory you all have...our mom never did anything like that with us (the counter ladies were sisters).

I smiled.  

I took my seven-dollar purchase that was going to rock the socks off the graduation party (not!) and got in my car.  

I sat there and reminded myself that nobody was going to attend my pity party because nobody knew I was having one.  

I was just sad a young man died way too young.  I was happy he was so loved, and frat brothers were filled with grief. You cannot have grief without love. 

I was sad I was not that young mom anymore going to McDonalds in between games.  I was happy that my three children were older and happy.

I was proud of my daughter for graduating, get a job and moving to a big city to become a woman.  I realized that I influenced her in some way. 

I wasn't even sad about my hairless legs anymore.  I had enough scars on my legs.  I do not have the vision I used to, and I would just cut myself anyway.  

I realized that many of the things that I regretted, I could still change.  And I would. Like this bawling session.  I am an ugly crier.

I pressed my start button and the radio was blared...Broadway station.  Julie Andrews.  My Favorite Things.  Divine Intervention. 

We all just need a moment sometimes.  

And Kleenex in the glove box.

Pass the plate

Here is the thing about blogging...it is supposed to make you feel better...let you express your feelings...a release.

After the last post about four generations...growing old...family memories...I went down a path. It was not a good look for me.  

Growing up, my mom was a simple person.  We did not have much growing up.  My mom was just a simple person, in a very nice, lovely way.

I can still see the Correlle dishes on the table...the ones with the avocado green flowers.

My mom was a sucker for avocado green.  

Those were the dishes we ate off of for at least 18 years.  I cleared them nightly and washed and dried them...and later put them in the dishwasher.  

I am not a fancy person either.  I am not into shiny things, no jewelry, not anything fancy or shiny.  

Until I saw my Mamaw's dishes.  They we displayed in a maple hutch in her tiny dining room/sewing room.  

I spent many an afternoon, trying on the dress she was making me, with the hemming ruler, I would step in a circle, while she was putting the pins in for the hem.  The room was small, the floor creaked and on the wall was a hutch that displayed lovely dishes.  

I guess, when I was turning around, during the hemming session, that I noticed the dishes.  I asked her for them.  I said, (because you know when you are 14 and anybody above the age of 50, has one foot in the grave), "Mamaw, when you are old and die, can I please have your dishes?"

She tilted her head, looked shocked and said, "of course but you know plates usually have food on them".  This was a total jab because I had no interest in cooking and/or baking at the time.  She was convinced "that I would never find a man because I could not bake a homemade pie crust.

Many years past.  Turns out that Mamaw was not going out easily...she lived to be 92.  

My mom packed up the dishes, all wrapped in Tribune Review paper and delivered them to me about 21 years ago.

After I wrote my last blog, I called my cousin Jennifer.  We talked about our family tree/gene pool.  And things we appreciated.

The next day, I went up into the bonus room and dug out a box of dishes.  

Why was I keeping something wrapped up in Tribune Review newspaper when they meant something to me?  Why?  Nobody in my house would appreciate who they came from of why we had these dishes?  The disadvantage of being a late bloomer, when you finally have kids in your mid 40's, those babies most likely will not have long relationships with their grandparents, and most definitely not have four generations.

I washed the dishes.  I dried the dishes.  I put them in my old rustic hutch.  A few in the cabinet. And I said nothing.

Later that day, Walker came in and asked, "Mom, where did you get those dishes, they are so pretty?"

I smiled, shook my head and said, "upstairs in the bonus room...They have been there for 21 years.  They were my grandmother's."

I felt like the Grinch, when he was on the top of the mountain hearing all the little Who's on Whoville singing.  

Win for Mamaw, win for my old rustic hutch and win for my heart.

When Franklin and Walker sat down for dinner, Franklin also commented on the dishes.

I could see us all cramped around that little dining room table, kids at the little card table (aka the kids table) with the dishes in front of us.  

The angst in my heart that I had been feeling, it went away.  They belonged on a new table and in a new hutch where there was love and fun and frozen pie crusts.  These dished definitely did not belong wrapped in newspaper in my bonus room.  

I am using the good dishes knowing full well they will get chipped, broken, the whole nine yards.  They need to be loved and appreciated now, not later.

The beat goes on.  Pass the plate. 

It is Never the same. The Holiday Blues edition.

 

Christmas was over.  The shopping, wrapping, thinking, organizing, list making, Christmas cards, cooking, decorating, all of it, it was over.

And it was a fabulous holiday season.  Some Christmases do not live up to the hype.  This one did.  Over exceeded the expectations.  Even the kids said so.

Franklin and I were alone in the car, headed back home and we were both quiet...I was reflecting.  He was driving.  And then, just out of the blue, I blurted..."I know that I am not the only person who has ever lost their mom, but the holidays are different when they are gone, they just are different."

My husband quickly replied, "they are definitely different.  I agree."

Look, I promise this will be one of the last blogs about my mom.  I promise.  

But this year, I could really feel it.  Days after her death, Christmas came.  Honestly, we were sad, but she was free of ALS.  Last year, we got through it.  This year, it stung.  Alot. 

As we drove south, I was totally preoccupied by past Christmases.  Life seemed so simple then.  Mom would talk Crazy Russell into riding around to look at Christmas decorations by saying she saw a big buck in the field at the entrance of the neighborhood, so he was in.

We would drive through Delmont or White Valley looking out the windows, singing to the AM radio, the windows would steam up and we were in awe of those colored lights.  A few years later, the all-white lights were popular.  

My parents had a wooden greeting card in the yard, Season's Greetings from the Bahnemans.

Christmas Eve Day was the biggest day of the year for us as kids.  My cousins lived in the next neighborhood.  We would alternate years, our house, then the next year, theirs.

My grandparents would come, my Great-grandma Emma and my aunt and uncle.

Remember, there were no cell phones, no TikTok shop, no Amazon, just gazing through beautifully decorated stores like Kaufman's and Gimbels.

The packages would be loaded in from the cars while the ladies carried Tupperware containers, roasting pans with potholders and the special pie box we made for Mamaw' pies.

We were raised with women who stuck to the schedule.  When they said, we are starting at 2pm, you can bet they were in the driveway at 1:30pm.

And at 2pm, we started.  We opened by age...typically my cousin Janet was first, but occasionally, we would switch it out and let the Great Grandmother go first.  Four generations of women in one room, incredible. 

It was always amazing to me how my Aunt Judy could just nail your present.  She never bought anything you wanted, she bought what you knew you would love, but didn't even know it existed.

After a big Christmas feast, the dishes would be done, the trays of homemade Christmas cookies would appear, and Crazy Russel would pull out a gag gift for someone.  

The cars would get loaded back up, Tupperware back in the car and off they went.

Christmas morning, it was just the four of us, until we loaded up and went to Mamaw's and Bill's for another Christmas feast.

As Franklin and I drove along, even though my husband was with me, I felt detached, like I didn't belong anywhere, anymore.  There are only a few people left on this earth who know anything about those days and times and how exciting those 24 hours were to us as kids.

All of those memories and moments, laughs and perfect Christmas cookies, extinguished.  

Despite the fact that I have been married for 26 years and three kids, it just felt like I was alone.

So many of my Christmas decorations were made by those women in the room that day.  Quilts, Christmas trees, Santa and Mrs. Claus, all made by those women.

Their names and years written on the bottom.  Ugh, rips my heart out to see Linda 1963 or Ruth 1966.

I just felt like the end was coming fast...not about living but about who I could look at and say, "Remember when..." and they would know what I was talking about.  

Not to be hurtful, but we all know women make the holidays happen.  And men nap.

All four of those women in that house on Christmas Eve Day, made the magic.

And now, those who brought me into the world, were no longer in mine.

I was left with ceramic trees with a name and year.  Grateful.  But sad.

And I feel like I have a burden of keeping those memories alive. But who was I keeping those memories alive for?  

I was grateful when Franklin had to pull over for a bathroom stop. The break forced me to focus on other things, like people watching.

We walked in the door, happy to be home.  There is no place like it they say.

I unpacked, you know the drill and plugged in the tree.  I dimmed the lights and looked around and thought about our Christmas holiday.

For the first time ever, I let me tree and most of my decorations up past 12/26.  I am sure that made my mom roll over in her grave, but it gave me peace in my heart.

The holidays are just different now.  

And even if it is just a small circle who remembers those days that defined us, I am determined to give my kids and nieces and nephews those memories

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To anyone who has been in office, currently in office, thinking of being in office, I have a message for you.

For those elected officials who collect a paycheck, we need to chat.

I am a working, 63-year-old mother of three, married woman. I have a career that I receive compensation for but my biggest role (that I do not get paid for) is a mom.  Let me explain to you what that means...

My daughter just celebrated her 21st birthday.  She was born 14 months after her brother.  I purchased maternity underwear when I was pregnant with her brother.  Every two weeks, for 21 years, when I got paid, I stashed money to go replace the pregnancy underwear.  Every year, for 21 years, before I get could new underwear, somebody ran over a nail in the car, somebody had a cavity, broke an I phone, or left an important paper in a backpack and the day that $100 for cheerleading hair bow was due, I was informed.  

As a mom, I quickly learned that there are the most birthdays in September. (holiday season). I had to stash money always for the rough birthday month of birthday parties.  

When I went to the grocery store, I always had an amount (in my head) that I could spend.  I cut coupons, downloaded apps, researched recipes, everything I could do to balance my food budget.  I always bought something for each family membe liked.  Always.  I never (ok, maybe twice) did I purchase something for me. I didn't want to go over the "mental budget". 

I would have been a double showcase winner almost ever grocery trip.  I could get my purchase within a certain amount, without going over, every time!

During cheerleading or wrestling season, I could organize a state championship fundraiser and plan over my cell phone, in a dreaded group text, while driving in a carpool.  And it never failed. Some team would win one game or competition and in 48 hours we were at states and we needed cash, hotel rooms, carpools, etc and we made it happen on a group text.

Some months I was great balancing our family budget, some months I sucked.  But guess what? When things were tight, I didn't spend.  Don't care if it is the third day eating chicken, be thankful.  Roots need done but cannot afford it now.  No stress relief massage this month, we can do without. 

Over the years in my career, I was always on commission.  Meaning, I never really knew what I was getting paid...so I had to stash on the good months and make sure I had us covered during the bad months.  My income stayed pretty much the same the last 13 years...some years better, some not.  

Why do I tell you this...several reasons.

I did whatever I could for my family with whatever I had.  If I had to give something up, to provide for my family, I did.  Monthly.  Weekly.  Daily.

If I couldn't afford it, I did without. We did without.  

I mentioned the month of September because not only are there more birthdays in the month of September, but it is also Hurricane month.  You need cash if you live in a Hurricane zone.  There are a million things you need to spend your money on before a Hurricane, but you need cash because if there is not power, you cannot use debit or credit cards.  You need cash. So, I stashed money to prepare.  If we didn't get a Hurricane in September, it went into the Christmas fund.

Why? Because my family is the most important thing to me.

Where do you Pennsylvania Avenue folks come in?

September is Hurricane month although the season is June 1-November 30.  The United States typically has at least one Hurricane per season and one Forest Fire during the season. 

Did you stash money for those months? You know, here in America?

Let me explain.

Our national is debt is the greatest it has ever been in the history of the United States.  Our debt is greater than our military expenses.  This is the first time in history.  Why?  If we don't have it, why are we spending?  This is not about what party pushed the debt, it is about who has to pay for it.  I didn't push the debt by my monies help clean up a mess I didn't make.  And you know what else, did you spend it on your family?  You know, Americans?

Well, let's look at this:

$24,400,000,000 to Ukraine

$11,300,000,000 to Israel

$1,950,000,000 to Ethiopia

$1,600,000,000 to Jordan

I am going to stop and not bother listing anything else.

$770 Million dollars has been allocated for 2024 by FEMA for emergencies.

FEMA spent $640 million dollars on illegal immigrants/newcomers/whatever term you chose. 

$42 million dollars was allocated by the government to give people wifi/web access.  Zero dollars have been spent in 2024.  

Today, in my state of North Carolina, it was announced that anybody affected by Hurricane Helena would receive $750.  But and this is a big one, ONLY if you qualify.  You have to go one line and download the application.  If you do not have a charged phone because you have no electricity or you have been hanging in a tree for six days waiting to be rescued, doubt you can download anything.  If you do not qualify, you are screwed.  You get nothing.  Zero.  Look at the dollar amount above.  If you were not an elected official, you would gag at this amount.  I promise you.

My husband lost everything in Hurricane Andrew.  He had one garbage bag when he left the state of Florida.  He moved in with his parents in Waynesville, NC with two teenage daughters.

Thankfully, his parents provided a roof and love.

After it was announced that these victims would be receiving $750 if they qualified, another prominent politician said, "you folks are going to help these victims out".

I live in Carteret County, NC, a county that was hammered in 2018.  Since last Saturday, I have seen no less than 125 drop off locations, 500 social media posts about where to drop off and who is leaving when with what.  Schools, Boy Scout Troops, Youth Groups, Businesses, nail salons, you name it, we are on it.  One local businessman has already dropped off and is on his way back.  "Mr. Very Important Person in DC", you didn't need to give us permission or tell us that we needed to help, we, the American people, we are on it.

Americans are innately generous people.  We give.  Ask any Boy Scout Troop, Girl Scout Troop or the beneficiary of any pancake breakfast of marathon.  We are givers.

We give and give plenty, but we are not fond of those who take and do not give. And we are certainly not fond of those who give nothing, take lives of Americans but still receive funds and housing.  You know what I mean by this.

We raise our children to be kind and include all.  And we teach our children not to name call.  Do not call us names anymore and quit name calling one another.  It is not nice.  And quit saying that just because I vote one way that I am a pink curler wearing, uneducated, TV dinner eating type of person.  You know nothing about me or why I vote the way I do.  Stop.  I am a person.  I mean something in this country.  I pay my taxes and give back.  Stop.

Stick up for us.  We pay your salaries; we pay the bills.  You overspend and you think it is ok.  Do without.  Be like us.  If you cannot afford steak, then eat chicken. Be like us.

Stop bullshitting us for a vote.  I only have one vote; you only have one vote.  Stop the madness.   

When you show up at these emergency events, do something.  I don't want to hear you talk.  I want to see you bending over, sweating, lifting, treating Linemen who have been stung by yellow jackets, do something.  We don't care what you say, we only care what you do.

Organize help like you are a working mom with a group text, a deadline and a plan.  Get it done. Organize.  Don't talk, do. And do it with" mom like efficiency."

Under promise.  Over deliver.  

And if you do nothing on the above, know this, we are worth more than $750.  You cannot even get a tent and sleeping bag for the winter in WNC with $750 even if you qualify.  

Where did the $750 come from? Who determined this amount and based on what? What year was this, 1776?  

Do you really think that when you do not have a car, a house, no more clothes, nothing but what is on your back, what do really think that $750 is going to accomplish?  Did anybody think to have a senate hearing about this? Have you EVER taken the time to talk to Hurricane Victims, Forest Fire Victims, Flood Victims?  An old-fashioned conversation from those folks may help you understand.

I saw a video of a woman who lost her seven-year-old son and her parents when the roof they were on, detached from the house.  She literally lost everything, everything, including her sanity and her soul and she gets $750.  No doubt she doesn't care about the money, but I am certain she will need grief counseling in her future.  Seven hundred and fifty dollars and only if you qualify.

Come on DC, we deserve more.  We are worth more.  We are smart people.  Where is the respect? 

Why do you get take, but not give?

Your job is to budget monies for emergencies.  You know that Hurricane season is happening annually.  It is not like Leap Year.  Don't spend on others if you cannot take care of your family.  We don't have enough money to get through Hurricane season.  Are you kidding?

Find the money, find it.  Stop spending on something else and find the money to take care of Americans.  Today.  Get out the cell phone, organize the group text, I will make myself available, but get it done.  

I can tell you now, if any of us, us boring tax paying citizens, would go to our boss and say, "Hey, I know it is October 3 and we still have roughly two months of Hurricane season, but we are out of money because I gave all this money to other people", do you really think I would still have a job?  Maybe, because my boss would say, "find it Waldo, find the money for Americans" and if it means you give your money, so be it".  

Get it together Pennsylvania Avenue.

I would also like to suggest, next election season, for the debates, scrub the broadcast commentators.  Let the taxpayers ask the questions.  We have earned it. 

Want to know the first question I would ask, "how are you and the rest of DC going to lower the deficit...and you must answer the question.  If you don't, we borrowed the set from Willy Wonka, and you will go down the tunnel and be done". And short little men with painted faces will sing.  Answer the question. You owe it to us, let's all we get for paying your salary.

Finally, I love the United States. We love the United States.  Act like you love the United States.  Be better.  Fight as hard as those soldiers did when they fought for our freedom.

Without us, there is no need for you. Remember this.

Respect Lady Liberty.  Let her replace that maternity underwear.