"I'm gonna live like a believer, turn my back on the deceiver...."
Yeah. No. That's not where I am going. Although that old school Amy Grant song HAS entered my mind several times as I have been lying in bed over the past couple of days, sick as a dog. Maybe it was Divine intervention that it WAS playing in my mind...to somehow pull me out of my negative funk.
But what I REALLY have been thinking about is something very different.
"I Have Decided..." Just a few things that come to your mind as a Mom when you are sick and watching your house go to Hell in a handbasket:
1. Your husband, partner, significant other, whatever....may TELL you that they can handle everything, but they can't. Things will slip through the cracks.
2. No laundry, not a sock, will get done for the duration of your illness.
3. You won't have full groceries until you are well. There will be quick trips for 7-up and chicken noodle soup. Your "other" won't think to go ahead and pick up milk. His mind is on what you need. And you don't need milk.
4. Its hard to be home with kids who are out of school when you are sick. See the next epiphany...
5. Your children really don't care that you are sick.
6. Everyone does not recognize the value of NOT procrastinating and therefore may not clean out folders until the morning....as the kids are running out the door.
7. Kids (at least my kids) really are more unruly when left to too many decisions to make in the morning. Hence, the laying out of clothes early.
8. Hearing chaos and bickering is not conducive to rest, even when the door is shut.
9. You can look a little psycho when flinging said door open to shout (more chaos!)at everyone to stop yelling!
10. Yelling at yellers is counterproductive.
11. Nothing really bad happens when kids wear their socks two days in a row because no one made sure they changed them.
12. Teachers are pretty understanding and probably won't fail your child if something is forgotten while you are sick!
13. No one (that I am aware of) has ever died from forgetting gloves, not brushing their teeth ONE night, having Pepsi for lunch because you are out of milk, or any other minor infractions that I place entirely too much importance on.
14. All of this seems really silly to complain that someone doesn't do something "right" just because its not done your way.
15. It doesn't matter how much you love someone, you still aren't going to do things exactly the same.
16. My blog about how bad everything has gone is suddenly making me feel very guilty.
17. My hubby loves our kids and tries his best. Even if I think he should be finding shoes and jackets the night before instead of facebooking. Keyword.."think"...that's my opinion. He has his own opinions...
18. I'm grateful I have two kids who love me and a hubby who wants me well. Even if part of the reason is to take back some of the things I always do!
So let me check my swollen tonsils once again for craters you can swim in....take another couple of ibuprofen....take my temp and pray to see anything less than 102... and suck it up. There's laundry to do and it ain't getting done on its own! Ha!
Everyone wash their hands and have a glass of OJ!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Part Two: The Strange Smell of Formaldehyde and Nursing Homes....
Well, as promised, here is the second entry from our emotional week of funerals. I should actually change the title to "The Strange Smell of Formaldehyde, Nursing Homes and Funeral Flowers." I don't know why flowers smell different in a funeral home than they do in your yard or in a vase on your kitchen table. I guess that's another blog.
As strange as it may seem to blog about doing my Aunt Sue's hair, I feel like I need to purge the details since so many of my friends and family have asked how it went and what it was like. Of course I mean no disrespect at all by writing about the experience, even though, at times it was almost comical. If you knew my Aunt Sue at all, you would know that it was certainly appropriate that the whole thing was even funny at times.
I have already said that I did not hesitate to agree to the favor. My Mom mentioned it first and I believe said something to my cousin, Jimmy. When he asked, I had already given it some thought and decided I would definitely do it. I did say, however, that I knew I couldn't go in there (wherever "there" was...) alone. I just said that I knew someone would have to go with me! I had doubted it would be my husband, since he had to be available to take care of the kids for me. I knew my Mom would not be in any condition to go with me. So I just said, "As long as someone goes with me, I'll be fine."
I have more than one funny uncle. These are the "brothers" of my Mom's. There are four of them and they were blessed with a sense of humor that is second to none. One such brother, Uncle Jeff, sat with me in my Aunt Sue's hospital room towards the end of her life. We were both able to stay with her when it became too difficult for my Mom and my cousins to watch her struggle. He offered, one night, to go with me to do her hair and when the day did come for me to go...I thought he would be the perfect person to take. I needed someone who could keep things lighthearted for me and help me to keep it together. I doubted that I would break down in front of my often hilarious uncle.
Last Saturday, when the funeral director called, I made the arrangements to pick up Uncle Jeff and then head to Hartford City to do what I had promised. When we arrived at the funeral home, I don't think either of us had any idea what to expect. We just walked in, introduced ourselves and the kind director told us to follow him. He asked if I had done hair for someone who had passed before and I told him that I had not. He then asked my Uncle Jeff if he had done anything like that before and he said, "No," as well.
We followed him into a garage of this large, amazing house that I would give my right arm to live in. In the garage I spotted a gurney-type thing and I panicked. Surely he isn't going to just roll my Aunt Sue out here to the garage with that big door open and everything. What will people do as they drive by? Peer out their car windows and catch a glimpse of me styling a dead person's hair? But we kept walking to another door off of the garage and I felt a little better. Not going to happen in the garage. Thank, God!
Now...I don't know what I was thinking. But for some reason, I had it in my mind that this whole thing would go down down in a beautifully lit room, with "funeral home chic" decor and soft music playing in the background. I had visions of my Aunt lying on a satin covered table of some sort, maybe not dressed, but covered beautifully somehow. As I walked toward this door off of the garage, I imagined that beautiful room would be on the other side.
I was wrong.
As we walked in that doorway, it hit me right in the face. The strongest, strangest smell that I quickly identified as formaldehyde. There was no mistake that it was formaldehyde and it didn't exactly creep up on you. Smacked me instantly. The same way the cold air hit me in this refrigerated, very bright white, not necessarily the cleanest, old, cinder-block walled room. Boy did my eyes start wandering! And so did my Uncle Jeff's! We were looking around and taking EVERYTHING in. There were bottles of chemicals lined up on old garage-type shelves. A rolling stool in front of a counter with a faucet and cabinets that I really wanted to open up and look into. It was about 10X10, had no windows, cold and stinky. And there she was. My sweet Aunt Sue just lying there. I couldn't help but think she had to be so cold. Isn't that just about ridiculous! Duh. Of course she is "cold."
But you know...she looked really good. So peaceful. Like she was sleeping. My Uncle commented on how great she looked and I instantly felt at ease. She did look good. And now I wanted to make her look even better.
I was a little nervous at first because the funeral director and my Uncle were kind of just standing there as I started doing her hair. The funniest part was when I was trying to make her bangs lay down around her forehead and couldn't seem to get them to comb down. They just kept popping back up. At one point, I used my flat iron to pull them down and they shot back up again. Uncle Jeff made the funniest face, like what I had just done was NOT working. Plus, I was paranoid that I would get too close to her skin and burn her without knowing it since she obviously wasn't going to pull away or flinch. Finally, I used the old faucet and sink to wet the comb to make it stay down. The funeral director said, "Here...this will help." He started spraying her with a water bottle, which worked. I didn't bring a hair dryer, but he had some ultra powerful little dryer that I used. I wondered what else that thing was used for. It wasn't a typical hair dryer. Wonder what else it dried? Uncle Jeff looked as relieved as I did when our dreaded bangs started to lie down.
After that, I worked quickly and was soon finished. We all agreed that she looked great and I then focused my attention on giving him her clothes and making sure he knew she had little slippers and new underclothes.
The ride home was actually pretty funny. We both laughed at how we had such different expectations on what that room would look like. He had a more sterile, CSI type vision and I had this soap opera, dramatic vision. Boy, were we both wrong. But we survived.
Later, I was thanking God for providing what we need to get through things. I needed my Uncle Jeff that day. He was the perfect person to go with me. Had I taken a sister or even a good friend I think I would have gotten too emotional and maybe not been able to do it. But for some reason (and I think we all know the reason!) Uncle Jeff offered that day and we took care of it.
And the most important thing was that Aunt Sue looked great for her funeral. She would have wanted it that way!
As strange as it may seem to blog about doing my Aunt Sue's hair, I feel like I need to purge the details since so many of my friends and family have asked how it went and what it was like. Of course I mean no disrespect at all by writing about the experience, even though, at times it was almost comical. If you knew my Aunt Sue at all, you would know that it was certainly appropriate that the whole thing was even funny at times.
I have already said that I did not hesitate to agree to the favor. My Mom mentioned it first and I believe said something to my cousin, Jimmy. When he asked, I had already given it some thought and decided I would definitely do it. I did say, however, that I knew I couldn't go in there (wherever "there" was...) alone. I just said that I knew someone would have to go with me! I had doubted it would be my husband, since he had to be available to take care of the kids for me. I knew my Mom would not be in any condition to go with me. So I just said, "As long as someone goes with me, I'll be fine."
I have more than one funny uncle. These are the "brothers" of my Mom's. There are four of them and they were blessed with a sense of humor that is second to none. One such brother, Uncle Jeff, sat with me in my Aunt Sue's hospital room towards the end of her life. We were both able to stay with her when it became too difficult for my Mom and my cousins to watch her struggle. He offered, one night, to go with me to do her hair and when the day did come for me to go...I thought he would be the perfect person to take. I needed someone who could keep things lighthearted for me and help me to keep it together. I doubted that I would break down in front of my often hilarious uncle.
Last Saturday, when the funeral director called, I made the arrangements to pick up Uncle Jeff and then head to Hartford City to do what I had promised. When we arrived at the funeral home, I don't think either of us had any idea what to expect. We just walked in, introduced ourselves and the kind director told us to follow him. He asked if I had done hair for someone who had passed before and I told him that I had not. He then asked my Uncle Jeff if he had done anything like that before and he said, "No," as well.
We followed him into a garage of this large, amazing house that I would give my right arm to live in. In the garage I spotted a gurney-type thing and I panicked. Surely he isn't going to just roll my Aunt Sue out here to the garage with that big door open and everything. What will people do as they drive by? Peer out their car windows and catch a glimpse of me styling a dead person's hair? But we kept walking to another door off of the garage and I felt a little better. Not going to happen in the garage. Thank, God!
Now...I don't know what I was thinking. But for some reason, I had it in my mind that this whole thing would go down down in a beautifully lit room, with "funeral home chic" decor and soft music playing in the background. I had visions of my Aunt lying on a satin covered table of some sort, maybe not dressed, but covered beautifully somehow. As I walked toward this door off of the garage, I imagined that beautiful room would be on the other side.
I was wrong.
As we walked in that doorway, it hit me right in the face. The strongest, strangest smell that I quickly identified as formaldehyde. There was no mistake that it was formaldehyde and it didn't exactly creep up on you. Smacked me instantly. The same way the cold air hit me in this refrigerated, very bright white, not necessarily the cleanest, old, cinder-block walled room. Boy did my eyes start wandering! And so did my Uncle Jeff's! We were looking around and taking EVERYTHING in. There were bottles of chemicals lined up on old garage-type shelves. A rolling stool in front of a counter with a faucet and cabinets that I really wanted to open up and look into. It was about 10X10, had no windows, cold and stinky. And there she was. My sweet Aunt Sue just lying there. I couldn't help but think she had to be so cold. Isn't that just about ridiculous! Duh. Of course she is "cold."
But you know...she looked really good. So peaceful. Like she was sleeping. My Uncle commented on how great she looked and I instantly felt at ease. She did look good. And now I wanted to make her look even better.
I was a little nervous at first because the funeral director and my Uncle were kind of just standing there as I started doing her hair. The funniest part was when I was trying to make her bangs lay down around her forehead and couldn't seem to get them to comb down. They just kept popping back up. At one point, I used my flat iron to pull them down and they shot back up again. Uncle Jeff made the funniest face, like what I had just done was NOT working. Plus, I was paranoid that I would get too close to her skin and burn her without knowing it since she obviously wasn't going to pull away or flinch. Finally, I used the old faucet and sink to wet the comb to make it stay down. The funeral director said, "Here...this will help." He started spraying her with a water bottle, which worked. I didn't bring a hair dryer, but he had some ultra powerful little dryer that I used. I wondered what else that thing was used for. It wasn't a typical hair dryer. Wonder what else it dried? Uncle Jeff looked as relieved as I did when our dreaded bangs started to lie down.
After that, I worked quickly and was soon finished. We all agreed that she looked great and I then focused my attention on giving him her clothes and making sure he knew she had little slippers and new underclothes.
The ride home was actually pretty funny. We both laughed at how we had such different expectations on what that room would look like. He had a more sterile, CSI type vision and I had this soap opera, dramatic vision. Boy, were we both wrong. But we survived.
Later, I was thanking God for providing what we need to get through things. I needed my Uncle Jeff that day. He was the perfect person to go with me. Had I taken a sister or even a good friend I think I would have gotten too emotional and maybe not been able to do it. But for some reason (and I think we all know the reason!) Uncle Jeff offered that day and we took care of it.
And the most important thing was that Aunt Sue looked great for her funeral. She would have wanted it that way!
Part One: The Strange Smell of Formaldehyde and Nursing Homes....
Well, there was no way I could possibly get through this weekend without a little blog therapy, which I tend to try first since it is so much better for my bank account than retail therapy. As most everyone knows by now, from a couple of status updates, our family suffered the loss of not one, but two loved ones over the weekend. I have not cried yet, which seems odd. But honestly, I haven't had time. I have written before about how I can see myself "growing up" sometimes, and that really freaks me out. I still feel about 21 sometimes. But after this weekend, I am 100% sure that I am a different person than I was 10 or 15 years ago.
We'll start with a story about my lovely Aunt Sue, who, by the way, I was named after. (Brandi Sue...) She was my Mom's only sister and I have always had a very special place in my heart for her. Since she and my Mom were the only two girls out of six children, they had a bond that was just so special. They tend to be on the receiving end of a whole lot of teasing by four brothers. Never a dull moment at those family get togethers! I grew up looking forward to spending time with all of them and my cousins. When I was around 12, I started asking Aunt Sue if I could do her hair. She even let me cut it! Can you believe that? She must have been crazy. But I did it. And I didn't do a bad job, either. From that day on, occasionally, I would style, cut or even perm her hair over the years. We never lived close to each other, but if she knew we would be seeing each other, she may ask me to bring my scissors and a curling iron. I never, ever minded doing her hair. In fact, I loved it. She always said, "Oh, that's real pretty. Yes, yes. That's just real pretty." That eventually turned into, "Oh yes, yes. No one else does my hair like you do!" Now, if that isn't just the nicest thing to hear. Her compliments were so sincere and encouraging. Now, I will admit, she was extremely easy to please. And I really don't think I did anything any different than anyone else. But when you are 12....it was a big deal!
Last Friday, Aunt Sue passed away. She was in the hospital for a little over a week, fighting a pretty painful infection. She wasn't strong enough for surgery, so we knew that it was pretty much a waiting game unless there was a miracle. I don't blame God for wanting to bring her home....I would want her with me, too. She was an amazing lady who loved everyone! Incredibly loyal to her family and always willing to share anything she had.
When my cousin, her son, asked me to do her hair for the funeral, I didn't even hesitate. Although I had never done anything like that before, in fact...I am really pretty wimpy when it comes to things like that...I still didn't even hesitate. I thought, "There is no way I am letting some stranger do her hair. They would have no idea how she liked it." So that was it. I would definitely do it. On Saturday, the funeral director called me to let me know I could come at 2:00 pm to bring her outfit and do her hair.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. I was. And the details of the actual process will have to come in a later blog. My posts are long enough, so I won't bore you in this particular entry. But I will say that it was an experience I won't forget. I don't think I ever knew what formaldehyde smelled like. Until now. And the whole process was completely different than I expected. I knew it would be emotional. I did not expect to feel so good afterwards. Don't get me wrong.... I would much rather her still be alive and laughing with me. But I am so glad that I did her hair. I think she would have wanted me to, for one. And also, I kept thinking the whole time about how I wanted to make her look as pretty as I could. And she did look pretty. She looked just like she did about 10 years ago, before her health started failing.
I guess to go back to how we just change as we grow older.....there is no way I would have been brave enough to do that 10 years ago. I'm so grateful that our lives evolve over time and allow us to experience so many things. This is definitely one of those experiences that I won't forget.
Tune in soon to read more about our emotional weekend. Surprisingly, its not a story of sadness and gloom. More like encouragement and gratefulness!
We'll start with a story about my lovely Aunt Sue, who, by the way, I was named after. (Brandi Sue...) She was my Mom's only sister and I have always had a very special place in my heart for her. Since she and my Mom were the only two girls out of six children, they had a bond that was just so special. They tend to be on the receiving end of a whole lot of teasing by four brothers. Never a dull moment at those family get togethers! I grew up looking forward to spending time with all of them and my cousins. When I was around 12, I started asking Aunt Sue if I could do her hair. She even let me cut it! Can you believe that? She must have been crazy. But I did it. And I didn't do a bad job, either. From that day on, occasionally, I would style, cut or even perm her hair over the years. We never lived close to each other, but if she knew we would be seeing each other, she may ask me to bring my scissors and a curling iron. I never, ever minded doing her hair. In fact, I loved it. She always said, "Oh, that's real pretty. Yes, yes. That's just real pretty." That eventually turned into, "Oh yes, yes. No one else does my hair like you do!" Now, if that isn't just the nicest thing to hear. Her compliments were so sincere and encouraging. Now, I will admit, she was extremely easy to please. And I really don't think I did anything any different than anyone else. But when you are 12....it was a big deal!
Last Friday, Aunt Sue passed away. She was in the hospital for a little over a week, fighting a pretty painful infection. She wasn't strong enough for surgery, so we knew that it was pretty much a waiting game unless there was a miracle. I don't blame God for wanting to bring her home....I would want her with me, too. She was an amazing lady who loved everyone! Incredibly loyal to her family and always willing to share anything she had.
When my cousin, her son, asked me to do her hair for the funeral, I didn't even hesitate. Although I had never done anything like that before, in fact...I am really pretty wimpy when it comes to things like that...I still didn't even hesitate. I thought, "There is no way I am letting some stranger do her hair. They would have no idea how she liked it." So that was it. I would definitely do it. On Saturday, the funeral director called me to let me know I could come at 2:00 pm to bring her outfit and do her hair.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. I was. And the details of the actual process will have to come in a later blog. My posts are long enough, so I won't bore you in this particular entry. But I will say that it was an experience I won't forget. I don't think I ever knew what formaldehyde smelled like. Until now. And the whole process was completely different than I expected. I knew it would be emotional. I did not expect to feel so good afterwards. Don't get me wrong.... I would much rather her still be alive and laughing with me. But I am so glad that I did her hair. I think she would have wanted me to, for one. And also, I kept thinking the whole time about how I wanted to make her look as pretty as I could. And she did look pretty. She looked just like she did about 10 years ago, before her health started failing.
I guess to go back to how we just change as we grow older.....there is no way I would have been brave enough to do that 10 years ago. I'm so grateful that our lives evolve over time and allow us to experience so many things. This is definitely one of those experiences that I won't forget.
Tune in soon to read more about our emotional weekend. Surprisingly, its not a story of sadness and gloom. More like encouragement and gratefulness!
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