Congratulations To ~

Leigh and her family as they welcome home a daughter!

Tango

If I learned to bellydance, I can learn to do this. But where!?!?!

Do This

When my sister-in-law died in 2000 at age 39 from leukemia I put myself on the National Bone Marrow Registry. All it took was a q-tip along the gum line. Her sons, my nephews are in college now. I keep wondering if there had been a match for her out in the world. Maybe they just didn't know about the Registry, or they did and didn't take the time to maybe make a difference.

Ending. (Or Beginning, Or Middle If You're The Minion)

My mother passed away Tuesday morning. I'm okay. Really. The last couple weeks were when I mourned her. When she became a shell of pain instead of the witty lady I loved. The Minion has a Zen-like mindset thing going lately and is sticking with the re-incarnation angle. I'm just going with the being glad it's over for her angle. I knew I was stressed and exhausted but until I crawled into bed last night I didn't realize how completely spent I was. I slept the best sleep in probably three years. Because I didn't have to worry any longer.

She was highly organized, so there has been very little I've had to do arrangement wise. Three cheers for pre-planning. It's not morbid. It saves your loved ones having to think when they are most likely shattered. There's plenty to do without having to wonder whether to go with the upscale casket or the cardboard box for cremation. Like my dad said: "I want the damn cardboard box! Why burn up good money? Why should I care what I'm in? I'll be dead!"

Palliative Care

A couple of you ( the two that read but don't comment...don't look innocently around; you know who you are) know that my mother has been very ill for the last few weeks. Well, today I get to decide whether or not to keep the fluid IV going. She's not aware of much. She hasn't eaten in weeks and won't keep a feeding tube in, so that was nixed a while back. She hasn't taken her regular medication for days. We're at the end of the line here. When I told my mother I would be the decision maker ( or is it "decider"..lol ), I knew it would be a crummy job. And it truly is a crummy job. I keep wondering if I should put a Danby marble urn on hold at Brewster's. I need one for her so she and dad are a matching pair, for bookends. Seriously. And she knew this. And thought it was a great idea.

I'm tired. I want to sleep all the time. Stress is exhausting. Even The Minion mentioned that I look awful. Sweet boy that he is. The only way I'm remaining sane through this emotional shit-storm is to think of things like the following:

Has anyone ever wondered why the numbers on phonepads and remotes are the reverse direction on a calculator? That bit of weird has been bugging me for days.