Commentless in Athens :(

Well things aren't going so well in this Athens Hotel!
After returning from my Mother's funeral (driving behind transport trucks all the way since my car can't go any faster than 80 -100 km an hour) I was very tired and very sore. I had gobbled up more of my pain pills than I had been allotted so throw in some exaggerated pain and possibly some withdrawal too...then I put my phone and TV on hold as a marked statement against Ma Bell only to find that while everywhere that was long distance is now free....the people down the street have to dial 1 to get a hold of me!! I was just starting to get a leg up when I went for a persantine test for my heart which took upwards of 7 hours all told with travelling and hanging about ...( I explained to everyone that I could that I was having this test because my cardiologist (at that hospital no names specified though) had cut my groin open twice without the benefit of anesthetic so this test was a better alternative to being brutally tortured by the medical bureaucrat)...and they all seemed very much impressed and sympathetic to my plight....or else they thought I was CRAZY!! Any way following the test I have spent the past 5 days pretty much in bed, just climbing up and down stairs every once in awhile so that I might maintain some minuscule amount of muscle mass and not end up flaccid on the floor.
Getting back to the post title ( I digress!) I decided to check out my little blog and see if anyone had visited and it appeared that my comment widget is dead...snuffed...inadequate....and dysfunctional. I have tried everything to fix it and in fact when I began typing this post (which I do in the H&P style , aka hunt and peck) and after much venting I looked upon my screen to find a whole mass of scribble!!! All this way and that way....almost as if someone while writing had gone mad....and I had to ask myself...I said "self? have gone mad?" and I replied :I don't think so but are we certain and with that I prepared an expedition and discovered that somehow I translated my blog into Telugu! I have no idea where that is and therefore have given up for the night,,,,Thank you for visiting and although I do apologise for the absence of an opportunity to respond...well...you never comment anyway so what the hell!!! Good Night.

Makin Me Laugh...

The crappy thing about hiding inside your house, (that's my own house...not YOUR house!) Is that it can get lonely and boring and kinda....well...sad....anyway I was cleaning up my computer the other day and found this old video when we used to hang out together and be silly.....not that we ever stopped that but...well....you"ll see.   Hope I can do this right\

Where's Mother?

On July 10th of this year, my tiny, frail, confused Mother closed her eyes, and breathed her last' just moments after my Father had left her. They were married for 63 years. My sister was notified, and was devastated, no matter that she was 90, with every indication screaming that she was at the end of this journey the loss was just as great as if she had been taken in her 30th year of life. My sister broke my heart, describing her precious last moments with my Mom...the 2 of them quietly together in the hospital bed...one, whose pain was now relieved, and one very much alive whose pain was overflowing... She pleaded for her mother not to leave her, because she had promised to wait.

This depth of pain is all so personal, coming from different emotions...love...pain...the yearning for love stolen away, and also for love hoped left to come. My Mother had been stolen from us bit by bit, moment by moment. Events forgotten, experiences forgotten, memories of yesterday gone, while some from 40 years ago popping by in vivid detail. Sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes painstaking, the disease ate away at the very core of my Mother's being and would have horrified her to witness herself. My Father, now 86 and not well himself, took every care to keep my mother at home as long as possible, as did my sister. The very basic needs of life were now theirs to provide, and provide them they did irregardless of the mood or cognition of my mother. Their vigil over her care followed to the Nursing Home as they visited daily, looked after her appearance, her comfort. It is so hard to let go when your invested in keeping someone alive but it seems as though she had made a choice that it was time to leave.

This was for me a time of pain, and heartbreak, but my loss was more from the past...yearning for the tender moments between mother and daughter, the depth of connection that she shared with my sister, I would have traded anything for a small piece of her heart. Ironically, the very disease that took her from us, helped me to find a softer side to her. She became welcoming and physically tender with me in the years before her death, and that is a gift for me that I will forever treasure and cling to.

My sons had a Grandmother who would have challenged an elephant in order to protect them, and Paul, who lives close by to them, was especially close to her. If you looked carefully at him through Mom's eyes, you cloud see a halo over his head! My youngest son was specially excited to have his "cuddles" with "Nana" after I shared with her that he thought she didn't really like him, she took special care to shower him with hugs and kisses, cuddles and quiet times together, something he will never forget.

During the wake there was an open casket initially, and I took the opportunity to give her a final kiss, and held her cold hand. Her body was there but her spirit was long gone. Even though I believe in God, and I believe in the crucifixion, and the love of Christ I had an overwhelming desire to ask ..."Where's my Mother....where has she gone?" My faith used to be so strong, so much a part of me, but I have let it slide underneath the worries
of everyday. So I begin my journey anew so I can be with my Mother again in a place where there is no sadness, no more tears, and no more pain.

Time for Tea?

As you know if you read this blog, I am ill, and have been for a long time...but before Fibromyalgia, I was quite a bit more active than I am now.  My Bi Polar also gave me a bit of an edge on the quirky side of active, but I always imagined that once my kids were raised I would go off on exciting adventures...may be to Africa or somewhere exotic.  Now I'm lucky if I get to walk the trails out in the back acreages behind my house!  Anyway...this new Nestea Commercial is kind of what I had in mind for my older years.....okay I wouldn't jump off a cliff (unless I was suicidal) but check it out and see if it's as close to your retirement plan as it is to mine! Also, as an after thought, diet Nestea (Green) is 0 calories and sweetened with.....No...not aspartame....Splenda :) !!! It is my new cold drink for my sore throat!  Hopefully I will lose some of the weight I gained drinking Canada Dry Ginger Ale :(

It's fun to Worry

Worry, is a pretty all encompassing feeling.  It can be tiny...like how you might worry that you have food between your teeth when you're eating lunch with your new boyfriend....or it can be moderate...as when you spot a police car behind you, and you wonder how many miles over the speed limit you've been driving, and if the police officer in that police car is are having a good /mediocre/ or bad day!  Then there's the really big worry, if you are Casey Anthony and you are sitting in a court room wondering if the 12 people about to determine your life or death fate, were touched by your dry weeping and dry heaving antics yesterday!

Well, now when I think of worrying I have a totally different image in my head, all, or in part due to this wonderfully entertaining commercial!  You have to watch it...even if it's slow to upload...yes I know how frustrating that can be, but trust me...this will put a smile on your face and a giggle in your throat!!! It's better than Valium, which puts you to sleep, and isn't cute at all!! Try it!! 

Mom

The other day I came across this picture of my mother and I remembered being so excited when I got to wear her dress!   It was a strange experience, since I felt really pretty in it, even if I was only "handsome" it made me feel better than that.  Look at her face!!! She's having a wonderful time.  Obvioiusly it's My Dad on the other end of the camera, and they were both so young and filled with hope.  Mom is now 90, and has more recently been moved to a nursing home, her dementia to the point of complete disability....my Dad told me the other evening,that he had been visiting with Mom and he said "she's still a beautiful woman"...that kind of love is very hard to find!

Caylee's nightmare

"Tell me please...on which aisle do you keep the Chloroform?" I don't know about the U.S., but we Canadians don't sell chloroform at the corner store, the grocery store, or even the pharmacy...in fact we have placed Gravol behind the counter occasionally when our youth have become particularly fond of it ...Maya Derkovic, a fellow inmate of Casey's, recalls Casey explaining to her that she had used this as a means to settle Caylee down!! What happened to a cuddle and a lullaby?!!
I can't grasp what it takes to place a wet rag over your child's face until she stops breathing...how long did that take?
Did Caylee look at her mother while she did it? 
Did she struggle against the very arms that were made to cradle her?
Too much to bear.  Death would be a welcome relief for most humans who may "accidentally" harm their children in a moment of craziness, but then to experience guilt/shame you  must have empathy, which of course, being the Psychopath that she is, she does not have. Frightening to think that she might get off, she might get out of jail, she might have another child, and there would be nothing anyone could do to stop her.