From Stephanie Haverly-Koontz

What a beautiful site this is!  I know that Thursday, Betty's birthday, was hard for all of you.  When I first heard the news, I called Bob Reckelhoff.  I know that he and Paul played golf together regularly and sometimes when the family has alot of support, the friends aren't always consoled.  He is devastated, of course, but it was good for him to talk about it.  Paul and Betty were very good friends to all who knew them and their loss will be felt forever.  I'm praying for you, Susie, and for your brothers as well.  Much love - Stephanie Haverly-Koontz

 

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Happy Birthday, Mom

Today would've been Mom's 78th birthday. Here's a pic taken last year on this day. We didn't usually do a cake for her, but I'm glad we did last year. Not sure she would've wanted one this year. She was trying to watch her weight because of the prednisone. We found the little box and bag upstairs in a dresser drawer. She must've liked them! Susan put the Dachsie stickers on her gift; I had the bag for mine. All her cards are behind her on the counter.

Happy Birthday, Mom. We miss you.

Love, Susie

Went over to Mom and Dad's today. Her dogwoods have blooms and there are several Hostas coming up. Found Dad's 2006 calendar. Dad always had these calendars hanging on the fridge. They were spiral bound. He would write little notes on them--usually something for each day, even if it was just the word "Otis"--meaning of course, he played golf at Otis. I found a bunch of old ones down in the basement--back to the 90's maybe even more. But I could not find 2006 and it bothered me--today I looked in the most obvious place--on top of the fridge! I'm sure he had it up there because he was still referring to it. And he always put stuff on top of the fridge.

I was looking at some pictures. I was trying to find any resemblance to Mom. There just isn't much! I get my height from her. My hands and feet I get from her--our hands were exactly the same size. I have the "Bratcher finger". Mom and Granny (Alberta) had it and I'm pretty sure Aunt Opal and Aunt Bea had it. The little finger on the right hand is double jointed or something--it won't lay flat unless you make it. I have small feet, but not as small as hers. She wore a 5 and for many years, she said I wore a 5--finally I convinced her that, no, I actually think I'm a 5.5 or a 6!

I look more like Dad. I have his hair (cowlicks included!), his eyes (brown, small).
The two little dimple things around the mouth. (A Breidenbach thing). I act more like Dad, too. Dad always put dates on everything--and I've noticed that I do that, too. This was long before products had dates on them. You'd get a bottle of ketchup out of the fridge and there would be date on it. Sometimes I talk about strange things out of nowhere that aren't really relevant to the conversation! That was so Dad.

It's late...more tomorrow.

Susie

I had a dream about Mom and Dad this morning. First time I've done that. Of all things we were in like an Office Depot or something! I was there already and saw them come in. Susan was there with me and she said, “Is that your Mom and Dad?” So I thought if she saw them, too, it must be real. I went over to Mom and put my arm around her and she told me they were OK. She felt warm and alive. She seemed so real—it seemed so real--she and Dad standing there in the store looking at stuff. I was always running into them around town at Walmart or wherever. Then Sophie woke me up L and I didn't get to finish it. I wonder what else she would've said? Maybe I’ll dream about them again. I hope so.



I talked to Uncle Bill and Aunt Pat again yesterday. Bill was having a good day. Barb and Philip and their families and Uncle Tom had been there visiting. He sounded tired but in a good mood.



Things are starting to bloom here in southern Indiana. The Bradford Pears and the Dogwoods are just coming out. Went to Mom and Dad’s yesterday afternoon—nothing blooming there yet.

Here Dogwood was always kind of iffy anyway. Unfortunately, the Arborvitae trees she planted last year don’t look well. She wasn’t happy with them when she planted them. They’ll probably have to come out. Her plants in the basement will have to be moved to the patio soon.



Susie

Today is John's 48th birthday. Happy Birthday, John! Mom's birthday is the 29th. I could always remember how old John was because Mom was exactly 30 years older. She would've been 78 on Thursday. It was the same with me and Dad. He was exactly 40 years older than me and we shared the same birthday month--November. So this year, when I turn 44, Dad would've been 84.

 

Sometime around their birthdays, we would've all celebrated. A cake or going out to eat--something to make it special.

 

I will write more tomorrow.

 

Susie

Thank you, Becky, for your comments. I love hearing stuff like that. I love hearing everyday things from people they interacted with on a daily basis. Please write anytime.

I was sick today with a stomach thing. I would've called Mom and told her, and she would've been concerned as all mothers would be when their "child" is sick. Even if I just had a cold, I had to call her and tell her. I guess that is the kid in me. She was my mom, and when you are sick, you need your mom! I could always count on her to care. If I was really sick, she would ask if I needed anything and would bring it out. Usually, I wouldn't say I needed anything unless I was REALLY sick. So today I would've just called and chatted. She would've said, "Well, what did you eat yesterday? Do you need some 7-up?" -- things like that. I think it was just a little 24 hour bug thing. I ate today but felt tired. Anyway, funny how when you are sick you want your mom to know. I'm an adult, haven't lived at home for years, but still you want that "mothering" I guess when you don't feel well.

Today was a beautiful day. Sunny and in the 70's. They both would've enjoyed today outside.

Been missing Dad. I always miss both of them, but some days I focus more on one. Yesterday it was Dad. I found a picture on my computer of Dad taken in Dec. 2006. He was on the couch working his crossword--Greta on his lap and Hossie sitting right next to him. It is a good picture of Dad--just like I remember him. And surrounded by Dachshunds. I guess I haven't really talked about how important Dachshunds were in our lives. Ever since I was little, we've had Dachshunds. There was Otto and Penny (1) before I was born. I have a memory of my first Dachshund, Penny (2). I was very small and sitting on the back porch with her. Since then there has been Heidi, Sophie, Duchess, Hoss, Gimli and now Greta. Dad always loved teasing the dogs. He'd come in from work and throw his gloves at Heidi--just close enough to scare her. Or he'd put a piece of bologna rind on her back where she couldn't reach and watch her turn around in circles trying to get it. Sometimes Heidi would sit in the the kitchen chair next to him when he ate. He would line up dog treats on the table and flick them at her. One time he tied a dog treat to a string and dangled it front of, I think Penny's, nose and moved it when she tried to get it.
Yeah, Dad had a twisted sense of humor sometimes! One time he hit a golf ball in the backyard and it hit Sophie on the head. He thought that was really funny. He would practice in the backyard and Sophie would run after the balls and chase them.
He liked to "fight" with Sophie. He'd sit in the chair in the living room and hang his arm down and she would jump on it and bite and growl and he'd sling her off and she'd come running back for more. She always got to lick his ice cream bowl at night.

When Penny got sick and had to be put down, Dad was the one who did it. We had Heidi by then. I remember how much it upset Dad to do that. Then when it was Heidi's turn, he and Mom took her in. Mom would still talk about that sometimes. How hard it was. Sophie is 16. I always thought Mom and Dad would be here when it was Sophie's time.

They both loved taking care of their "grand dogs". When Sophie was younger, I'd take her over to "Grandma's" a lot when I went to work. Mom liked having her there. She'd send me an email during the day and say, "Sophie is a good doggie. She likes it here." Actually, Mom and Dad had a big part in raising Sophie. I got her when I was in Bloomington working the graveyard shift at B97 radio. I wasn't getting any sleep at all because I'd be trying to sleep and Sophie would want to be up. So, Mom and Dad, being the parents they were, came and got her. They ended up keeping her until I finally moved back home. Mom housebroke her. Dad loved to pick her up and carry her outside. He'd put her little face up next to his cheek and talk to her. "Sophie's a good doggie". Sometimes he'd call her "Soapie". I could always tell when he'd been petting her or carrying her because she smelled like his cologne. Oh, I named her because of Dad. When we had Heidi, who was red, he always said he wanted a black Dachshund and he'd name it Sophie. So, when I called to find out about Sophie and they said she was black, I knew what I was going to name her right then. When I went to live in Chicago, I didn't take Sophie right away. I remember when they brought her up. They were driving a green La Sabre at that time, and I remember when they pulled into the parking lot at my apt. complex with Sophie.

They kept Joe and Judy's Dachshund, Duchess as well. Mom liked how she went upstairs and slept at night in the front bedroom. Mom even kept Jonna and Dave's dog, Gimli, one day when Dave came to play golf with Dad. They never said they couldn't take care of the dogs. They were always happy to have them. Sometimes they'd even be babysitting for more than one.

Same with Hoss. They loved Hoss. Mom always said he was a blessing for John. When John lost his dog, Einstein, Mom said she prayed to St. Anthony to find him. She said he didn't find Einstein, but he "found" Hoss instead and sent him to John. Hoss was a sweet little dog. He was so good. He'd jump up in the chair and sit with Dad. I think Dad liked that. We miss little Hoss, too. He was part of our family. I have one tiny video clip of Hoss and in the background you can hear Mom saying, "Hoss is such a good doggie." When they said they were going down to Jasper to get Hoss while John went on vacation, that was just typical. They loved doing it and did it often.

Susie

your parents

I want you to know I miss your parents every time I am in church! They
were so friendly and wonderful to me. It is funny, before I got to know
them I thought they were awfully serious people....then as time went on
and your dad started to tease me a little and smile at me, I realized
how wrong I was! They were at Mass so often....then one Sunday Steve
and I went to St. Paul's in Bloomington and lo and behold, there they
were! We laughed as we said hello...it was like they are everywhere!!
:) They were amazing people who are definitely missed by our parish
community. But missing them is selfish, I know....because if anyone is
experiencing the Glory of being with Our Savior, those two are!!!!
I hope you find comfort and hope in knowing they are now helping
us from another place, and that our community is a prayerful force for
your family. You were so fortunate to have such a solid, religious,
Catholic home life!! That gives we Catholics a sense of direction and
tradition that others miss.... Please call if I can help. Becky
Sprinkle

Today is Friday. Fridays are always tough for me. Still, everything reminds of Mom and Dad. Today I had to go to SIRA in Bloomington. Mom had gone with me before. I remembered coming out to get her to talk to the Dr. about my results. I could see her sitting in the waiting room reading her magazines. After my appt., I went to Hallmark. This time of year, they have their Spring stuff out--birds, and Easter stuff, etc. I always went in there around this time to pick up something for Mom's birthday which is coming up. I'd usually get her some kind of little bird or garden thing. They had lots of stuff today that I would've bought for her. Seemed like everything in that store reminded me of her. The Yankee Candle potpourri, the birds, little Easter decorations like the candy bowl I bought her one year. Then it seems when I'm looking for cards, I always see the "Mom and Dad" ones. Happy Easter Mom and Dad. Mother birthday. I would've bought one of those today.

Hey, Dad, Purdue won tonight! No more choking in the first round of the NCAA Tourney. They beat Arizona. Dad would've liked that. Speaking of Arizona, I called Uncle Bill tonight. I know he is not doing well. He sounded very weak and could only talk for a few minutes, but he did talk to me. He said he was praying for me every day. That really got me. I'm praying for him every day, too, and I told him that. I told him how much Dad loved coming out in January to see him and visit. Bill said that was a great time. I know it meant a lot to him that Dad went out. Bill said they framed one of those pictures of the four brothers playing golf. Wow. It was just so neat that they were able to all be together one more time.

Bill said something like the Man Upstairs is in charge and there's nothing you can do. I cried after I talked to him. Aside from sounding weak, he sounded "good" if that makes sense. He asked me how my dog was! I told him I now had two Dachshunds. I told him I might move in over at I Street. I think he liked that. He said I could fence in the yard for the dogs.

I'm so glad I talked to him. He said to call again anytime, and I will. We love you, Uncle Bill.

Love,

Susie

2 more things. The NCAA tourney started today. Dad and I usually watched the pairings on TV. Then he'd cut out the NCAA bracket from the paper and put it on the refrigerator and keep track of all the scores until the end. In red pen. Today I printed out a bracket from the Internet. Why, I don't know. Sometimes I'd print them for him but he usually used the ones from the paper. We'd watch some games together. If IU was playing, I'd go over and watch it with Dad and Mom.  Then I'd always go over and watch the championship game with Dad. So...when I think of the NCAA Tourney, I think of Dad. In the mornings, he'd check the paper and get the scores for the late night games that he missed after going to bed. Sometimes I'd look them up on the Internet for him.  If I was in a tourney pool and I needed scores, I'd go over and check Dad's bracket on the  fridge.

 

More Dad. Yesterday, after months of renovations, they opened up the back 9 at Otis Park again. Dad would've loved that. He would've been out there for sure--either playing or just checking it out. One of his golfing buddies, Gene Humes, made a DVD of the renovations and I watched it with Dad. It was still in their DVD player. When I saw the picture on the front page of the paper tonight---a new green at Otis--I thought, Dad should be there. I miss you, Dad.

 

Love,

 

Susie

Spent some time at the house this morning with a contractor to determine what could be done with the house. Turns out we really can’t do much unless we want to bring out the back porch and add a story. Not what we wanted to hear. We always wondered why they didn’t put a bathroom in upstairs. Now we know. Lots of deciding to do now. I was OK at the house today. It didn’t bother me as much. Last night Susan brought home one of Mom’s purses to use. I thought that would be OK because I won’t use them. (Even after relentless hounding, Mom still never got me to carry a purse!) It is a summer purse. Maybe Stone Mountain, not sure. She really liked Stone Mountain purses. Today when I went home for my dinner at 4:00 (I work til 8:00 on Thursdays), the purse was sitting on the island in our kitchen. It was around 4:40… I had about 5 minutes to kill, and this would’ve been the time when I would’ve picked up the phone and called Mom. I always called her at some point on my Thursdays when I went home at 4:00. So I started getting sad thinking about that, and then I noticed the purse. Today it made me weepy. I went over and picked up it, smelled it, found one of Mom’s blonde hairs on it. There was still some stuff in one pocked. A comb, a band-aid, 3 nail files and a little package of those dental floss toothpick things to clean your teeth with. It is a tooth pick on one end and a little thing with floss on the other. Blue. Made of plastic. If you ever went out to eat with Mom, she’d pull one of these things out and start going at it. Her teeth were bad—very crooked. She was always getting food caught in them. So she’d be flossing and digging. She was never without these toothpick things. She probably wouldn’t want me telling everybody that about her teeth. I could remember Mom carrying that purse. I put the strap on my shoulder; pretending to carry it. She would’ve loved to see me do that! I could see her standing there with her little purse, her sunglasses on, her little white walking shoes, a short sleeved blouse and those little knit pants she always wore.

She carried that purse last summer at Yellowstone. I miss you, Mom.

Love,

Susie

Today was a breakthrough of sorts for me. I went over to the house with Susan, and I didn't cry. We went through some stuff and I was OK. Tomorrow we're having a contractor come to the house to see about doing some remodeling. I hope I'm OK tomorrow.

Today, I'm feeling a tiny bit better. I know that tomorrow, I may have a meltdown again.

 

Tonight we went through some of Mom's things. Didn't throw anything out, but just started the process. She had so many little pairs of shoes. She liked to buy shoes. She had just bought a new pair in November when we went down to Evansville with John. We buried her in those. We buried her in new shoes and a new sweater. She would've liked that, I think. Went through some of her purses. She loved those Bed, Bath and Beyond coupons! We found several.

 

Took some of the funeral plants to work today. One planter went to Technical Services. The other will go downstairs by the entrance. They asked me if it would make me sad to have them around. I told them, no. I kind of like the idea, actually. There is already a big Norfolk Pine at the library that I took from Mom and Dad's a couple of years ago. It was one that they had been keeping for me since I came back from Chicago. So I see it every day and think of them.

 

Susie

 

 

 

 

A Longing for Union

Seeing mom's death certificate again (after many days) dropped me to reality again that she was gone. I was at my friend's home not too far from where I live. I went to our parish church's chapel and discoverd it wasn't that I missed her. Instead, I had a powerful longing to unite with both of them. It brought tears amid the pain of separation. My thoughts went beyond the accident sight to the time their bodies arrived at the funeral home. They appeared separated then...their physical selves. This also pained me. I remembered the times I had been with them alone...not together. I had spent the Wednesday prior to the week of their death alone with mother for a day. I drove my truck and she had a time getting in. We would laugh that day and talk about the future and who was sick and who was dying. That was a grand slam day. A homerun in mother/son relationship. I remember the day I accidently opened the door to her bedroom while she was changing clothes. She let out a yell, I slammed the door, and felt I had committed a mortal sin. What did I do wrong? What was it I saw the she deemed forbidden for me to see? That was the transperency of our relationship that did not exist. That was the separation I felt when i imagined them coming from the coroner's office. It was somehow in prayer I saw the role I and my siblings had played that made them mother and dad, husband and wife. Only the Lord Jesus can bring us together now. How I long to unite with them in a way that was never possible on earth. I do not miss them as much as I desire to be with them.

Haven't felt like posting for a few days. Today I went to Cresthaven to take care of some business. Had to sign something to order the Veteran's grave marker for Dad. Ordered Mom's grave marker. We had to pick a "term of endearment" for her marker. 2-3 words. So I chose "Our Mom". We never called her "Mother". Joe and John said that was fine. Selected "Moonlight Gray" granite to go under their brass markers. I thought it would look nice.

Betty Wathen's funeral was today. I went. It was sort of like re-living Mom and Dad's funeral--but not in all aspects because, obviously, we had two at once. I would have liked to have mourned for one and then the other. One at a time. Grieving for both is too much. Everything reminds me of Mom and/or Dad. This beautiful day we had today. Again, Dad on the golf course; Mom outside puttering around. Replanting something. Filling bird feeders. Getting patio furniture out. I want to call Mom and tell her how I'm feeling. How hard this grief thing is. Talk it over with her. That's what I would have done before. Or just go over there and feel the warmth of the house and the love in it. Maybe not talk about certain things at all--but just "be" in the house with them. My home. Our home. The safe zone.

I was watching an episode of Grey's Anatomy tonight. George's father died and at the end he said, "I don't know how to exist in a world without my Dad." I am grateful I had them for so many years. But I wish they would have stayed a little longer.

Susie

Today was the 1 month anniversary of their death. I did OK today. I tried to stay busy and I had the day off of work, so that was good. It was a beautiful day here. Sunny and 71. Dad for sure would've been golfing today. Mom would've walked and/or been outside doing something. She would not have stayed in on a day like today.

 

I don't have much else to say today.

 

Love,

 

Susie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Susie read your "blog."  I know it is very difficult for you right now.  I remember your folks at Tues/Thurs pm Mass.  Your Dad always said the prayers quickly and never dragged it out.  I can't say I ever talked to them for any period of time  except last fall when Paul was talking to the Pearsons.  I was out walking the dog and Paul told me of the new gr'grbaby in Michigan.  We discussed names. I was called Margie Lue  as a kid (Margaret Luella for my Gr'mas)  and Maggie when I went away to school.  He was telling me about Baby Maggie.  Your parents always smiled when I asked about you as you were their favorite daughter!!!!   Hang in there.  My Dad died of a heart attack when I was 20--- I had just left a few hours earlier to go to St Louis for a nursing affililiation.  They called me in Milwaukee that he had died very suddenly-  my siblings were 9 and 14.  IT was unreal.  So I know how painful it is.  Life goes on.  God is in charge.  maggie s.

Wow. Jeff, that was great. That is exactly what I had hoped for with this blog. Sharing our thoughts and memories. I hope this wasn't a one time thing for you. I'd love to hear more from you. I didn't know about the letter you sent Dad. That's really great that he kept it. I found a rough draft of a letter Dad had written me on the dining room table. Joe or John or Judy--somebody found it in the bookcase, I guess? Anyway, it was there on the table one day after they died. It was from 1995--a rough draft Dad had composed and later transfered to a card that he'd sent me. I totally remember getting that card and I still have it somewhere. I was having a rough time at that time in Chicago with being lonely. Dad wrote this really nice letter from "your old Dad"--very supportive and filled with uplifting quotes and thoughts from various Catholic writers.
The fact that Dad wrote me a letter--something I really only remember happening twice--was really a neat thing. I remember when I got those letters. I was like, wow, Dad wrote to me. And to find this rough draft--12 years later--really struck me. One thing was because the thoughts in the letter could directly be applied to the current situation. It was like Dad was sending me the letter again to help lift me up and help me get through this. The yellowed piece of lined paper with Dad's crossed out lines and words and misc. other notes is now in my nightstand next to my bed. At night, if I need to feel Dad is with me, I get it out and read it again. It's as if he's still trying to comfort me.

The letter is also a neat keepsake because this was SO Dad. He ALWAYS wrote a rough draft of stuff and then transfered it to cards or letters or whatever. I remember him sitting at the table writing stuff, getting his thoughts down, crossing stuff out, etc. He was always so meticulous about it. So neatly and precisely written in his engineering penmanship. If you ever saw Dad's writing, esp. numbers, you'll know what I mean. And always in pencil--a mechanical pencil. One time I bought him a Purdue mechanical pencil I'd seen at Wal-mart in the clearance aisle. He was still using that thing even though the Purdue stuff on it was all worn off. We found it at the house on the kitchen counter.

Jeff, thanks for saying I had it "spot on". You write well, too. Keep it up. Keep posting. I can only share my memories of them. We all have different ones!

Love,

Susie

OK then, I guess it does work!!!

 

Susie, you write well, and your descriptions are exactly as I remember them as well.  Grandma's curlers, Grandpa's crosswords in the front room.  All of that is spot-on.

 

It's funny, I remember as a small kid, being afraid of Grandpa!!  Not like terrified, but nervous and intimidated.  He never gave me reason to be, but he was so quiet, and quiet is intimidating to a kid.  He talked to me, but his smiles seemed to be few and far between, which is also intimidating to a small child.  Of course he made the pancakes, and I loved visiting, but still, if I was in a room alone with grandpa, I was immensely uneasy.

 

I mention that so I can mention the Grandpa I came to know.  Later in life, he mellowed alot, and became so much more approachable.  He became conversational, and open.  To me, it seemed he smiled more and he wasn't such an enigma.  I began to understand him and then appreciate, then respect, and then held him in the absolute highest esteem.  To where I was proude of my middle namesake, "Paul."  I was proud of where that name had come from.  I wrote him a letter several years ago, so he knew all of this.  I'm glad now that I did.  I wanted him to know that I wanted to grow up like him and my Dad, and to age and mature like he did.  I loved him immensely.  I knew he loved me in the way that grandparents love their grandkids, but I didn't know he felt so much the same way about me as I did him.  Turns out, he kept that letter till the day he died.  I'm honored by that.  I'm honored to have his name, and if someday I'm ever somehow blessed with a son of my own, he will have that name too.

 

As for Betty, (In recent years, I never called her Grandma anymore. She started signing her emails as "Gran," but I never called her that, and she always respdonded to "Betty.") what a little angel!  She'd let me raid the pantry for Sprites, and allow me to decimate those tins of cookies she made every Christmas.  And the cherry pies.  We always joked that she didn't make them for dad, but for me.  I never liked cherry pie, except hers.  I still don't.  My most favorite thing was to make her laugh, and it was so damn easy!  She laughed at everything.  I didn't care why, I just cared that she was laughing, and that meant she was happy, and I was the one making her feel that way.  I know she had some troubles at the end, but I could still make her laugh on the phone.  I'd call them sometimes for no other reason than to make her laugh.  (And to field Grandpa's latest engineering question about my job, because he always had a new one to ask me.)  She never liked me being so big, but I liked being big around her.  I liked being gentle with her.  When I hugged her or just walked by her in the kitchen.  I knew I'd knock her over if I walked by too fast and bumped her.  I was always so, so careful around her.  And the best was when she let me carry her!  They visited out here with my Mom and Dad a couple of summers ago.  We went on a hike.  On the way back I knew she was tired, and we had a ways to go.  I jokingly asked if she wanted me to carry her, fully expecting her to laugh and reject.  But she said, "OK, get over here."  I was floored!!  But I held up my end, and carried her all the way back to the truck.  She was still looking around and listening to birds.  She enjoyed it!  That made me feel really big around her, and I liked that.

 

Two great people.  I miss them.  But I'm so happy for them as well.  They lived their entire lives for where they're at now.   Whatever plane of existence and whatever conciousness they enjoy that we can't hope to understand, it's what they prepared for for 80 years.  And therein lies the blessing, and the good that comes.   All of this has fortified and bolstered my faith in ways nothing else could.  God was so present in all of this, and we've talked about this already, but it still rings true.  I'm so thankful for  them starting me on my faith (by starting Dad on his).  This has had a profound effect on me...and other than missing them to no end, it's all been a positive effect!  Seeing how they lived, how they prepared, and even how they died has made me proud, honored, and even more at peace with my mortality and the frailty of life.

 

Look at the Catholic family they've established.  This was their whole mission in life.  Mission accomplished.  What more could be expected of two tremendous people of God?  We honor them by exercising that faith and embracing their legacy.

 

Jeff 

Tonight I'm feeling sad, as I usually do around this time. Nights are harder. We were sitting here watching a movie and Susan fell asleep so I turned it off and for a split second I thought, well, I better call Mom for the night. I'd usually call her around 9 or so, sometimes later. But I'd wait until about 5 til the hour so I made sure she wasn't in the middle of a show. The later you called, the more likely she would answer and not Dad because she was sitting right there in her chair by the phone. She'd pick up on the first ring sometimes. I miss hearing her voice now and chatting about stupid things. Just everyday things. What she and Dad did today, etc. I was just looking at some pictures I still have on my camera from over a year ago. There were some of Mom on there with Sophie on Sophie's birthday in 2006. This  year (January 9, 2007), Mom wouldn't let me take her picture with Sophie because her face was "puffy" from the prednisone. So I have a picture of Mom's hand feeding Sophie some birthday cake and that's all.

 

Today I went to the attorney's office to pick up some things that were left in the car. There was a milk crate with "car stuff" in it. Dad was prepared. He had a light you plugged into the cigarette lighter, jumper cables, a little air compressor for flat tires that you also plugged into the cigarette lighter, some flares. There were two personal items. Mom's down coat and a little Catholic magazine. Not sure who the magazine belonged to. Don't know if Mom's coat was in the trunk or what. It was her little brown coat from Eddie Bauer. She wore it a lot.  I put it on but of course it didn't fit. Mom was so tiny. Short,  yes,  but just tiny all over. Little bones. Small shoulders. Petite. She was my little Mom. I got my height from her and small hands and feet but that's it.  She wasn't frail, well, as much as you might expect a nearly 78 year old to be,  but not overly frail. In one coat pocket, there was a rain hat (she had tons of these things!) and a hair pick. Mom was always fixing her  hair. It always looked the same to me, but if I said that she would get mad. "No, it looks awful today," and she'd start messing with it. She always looked neat and nice and put together. In the other pocket was a Kleenex (another thing she was never without!) and a business card for the Bloomington Shuttle Service. She must've had this when we went to pick up Dad when he got back  from Phoenix. 

 

 I drove up there with Mom that Monday night, Jan. 29 to pick him up at the Hampton. We went to the hotel to wait but we were early, so we decided to go down to McDonalds and get a Coke. We were at the light and here came the shuttle, so we just followed it back to the hotel. Dad got off and went and got his bag and I got out to greet him and help him put his stuff in my car. It was really good to see him. He seemed happy, but sad, too, because he knew Bill was in failing health. But he was so happy to have gone and gotten to see Bill. He had had a great time with his brothers. I remember  thinking at some point that the next time he went out, I wanted to go with him. I thought he should just go back in a month or so to see Bill again. I can't remember what else we talked about but he seemed in good spirits although he had to be tired. Mom sat  next to me in front and Dad in back. I remember thinking I had to be extra careful because of my precious cargo. It was a neat bonding thing just the three of us in the car.  I loved Mom and Dad so much.

 

Susie

 

 

 

 

 

Not sure what to write about today, but I feel I must keep doing this.
I haven't wanted to go to the house--when I do go, I can't stay long. I get too emotional. I went for only a few minutes today to get something from the freezer. We are trying to not let their leftover food go to waste.

I must try to focus on the positive--as hard as that might be. Joe, my brother, mentioned trying to focus on the positive things Mom and Dad gave us. The first thing that comes to mind was their tremendous Faith. That is their greatest gift to those they left behind.

Dad said the rosary EVERY day. Usually, he went for a walk in the evenings and prayed it as he walked. One night in December he was walking up by the church and he fell. He did not remember if he just didn't see the curb or what, but he went down. He hurt his hand, skinned his chin and busted his lip. At that time, Mom and I convinced him to stop walking at night when it was hard to see. We wondered if he had blacked out. He didn't seem to know. Ironically, this happened on the SAME day that Mom fell at the library. She had come to see me and tripped over a curb when going to the car where Dad was waiting for her. She broke her finger. It was bent on the end and even after wearing a splint, the doctor told her it might never be straight again. She was still wearing a bandage on that finger--which is why she wasn't wearing her wedding ring at the time of the accident. The finger was still bothering her and swollen a bit. (It was her ring finger on her left hand.) Anyway, it was so strange that they both fell on the same day. I remember worrying that they would start falling more. I joked with them and said they weren't allowed out of the house anymore.

A funny thing about this story. Mom wanted to go to the Emergency Room to have her finger x-rayed. So Dad dropped her off at Dunn Hospital--and then he went grocery shopping! I remember laughing with them about it. She didn't want him to wait with her and he probably didn't want to and besides, he had groceries to get!!! That was so typical of them both.

Back to Dad and the rosary. When we went to Yellowstone last summer, Dad still made sure he said the rosary. I remember one night at the hotel in Jackson Hole, WY. We had all gone to bed. Mom and Dad and I were sharing a room with John in a joining room. So anyway, we had all gone to bed but I woke up to see Dad sitting there in the dark in a chair praying the rosary. I said something like you better go to bed before you fall asleep. He went to bed shortly after, but I will never forget him doing that--even on vacation, he still made time to pray. What an example he set.

Sometimes when I went over to visit them, Mom would be upstairs in Joe and John's old bedroom reading her Catholic magazines or prayer books. She liked to read the Liguorian. She had saved several years worth and marked different passages. Sometimes if I was struggling with something, she would find an issue that pertained to my issue and loan it to me. She always wanted it back, though. :-) I know she read certain parts over and over. They both read the Criterion whenever it came.

Mom and Dad really enjoyed going to their Saturday time at the Adoration Chapel.
I know I mentioned it before; Saturdays from 10-11. It was VERY important to them and they would not miss it.

Regardless of when Mom and Dad went to St. Paul's, they always had to tell me who preached. They've been going their for years. All the way back to when it was Father Bob Sims and Father Kim. Then it was Father Dan and Father Joe Moriarty. They liked them all. Now it was Father Rich (who presided at their Funeral Mass), Father Bob and Father Stan. They liked them all, too, especially Father Rich which was why we asked him to have their Mass. Dad would always say, "We heard a good homily today." Going to Mass meant so much to them. It was what the rest of their week revolved around.

Their Catholic Faith meant so much to them. I'm not saying they were Saints. But they really, truly loved their Faith and believed with all of their hearts. That is what gives me comfort now. I KNOW they are with God. It is what they lived for.

Susie

Today was cold here--35. We had a little light snow last night.

On Sundays, Mom and Dad usually went to St. Paul's in Bloomington to the 10:30 Mass.
Sometimes they would go out to eat after--Smokey Bones, Outback, Red Lobster. They would eat lunch. They liked getting the lunch portions. Cheaper and less food. Then they might go shopping or just come home. I always knew not to call over there on Sundays until after 1230 at least. They'd be home by around 1230 if they had just come straight home. If they went out to eat, they wouldn't get home until 1:30 or so. So I would call, and if they weren't home yet, I'd leave a message for them to call me when they got home. Why? Because I always worried about them and I wanted to make sure they got home safe. And, because I just wanted to check in and talk to Mom for the day.
See that her plans were, etc.

Then, if they were going to be home later, I'd go over and visit. Watch TV with Dad for a bit...then go into Mom's room and watch TV with her. This was usually what it was like. Dad would be in the living room watching sports or Larry King or CNN. Mom would be in her bedroom watching Law and Order or a movie on Lifetime or ice skating.
In between shows, if it was a night she washed her hair, she'd hurry into the bathroom and wash her hair in the sink. Then she'd sit in her chair and dry her hair and/or roll it up. How many times did I come over to visit and she'd be sitting in her little chair, in her robe, with rollers in her hair.

Sometimes, moreso lately, if I was watching TV with Dad in the living room, she would come in and sit on the couch and visit.

Dad would be in his chair by the window watching TV and working on his crossword puzzle. Or sometimes he'd be working on it at the dining room table or kitchen table.
This time of year, he'd be working on my taxes and probably have them done by now. He always did mine first because he wanted me to get my refunds. He'd be after me to bring my stuff over as soon as I got my W2.

The last Sunday I went over there was for the Super Bowl. I'm so glad the Colts were in it this year. Otherwise, I would've probably gone to Luanne or Kim's house to watch the game. But this year I wanted to watch it with Dad since I'd watched several of the Colts games with him this season. I always tried to watch football with him and some of the IU basketball games. Anyway, I told Luanne and Kim that, no, this year I wanted to watch the Super Bowl with Dad. I'm so glad I did. So Susan and I went over there to watch the game. They fixed dinner for us. Pretty sure it was roast with potatoes and carrots. Then we all watched the game. I remember Mom saying it was the first football game she'd ever watched all the way through. The Colts won, it was a great game, they were both in great moods and we had a great time just being together. We hated most of the commercials. Mom and Dad didn't watch the halftime show. Dad farted around in the kitchen and Mom returned with rollers in part of her hair. Susan and I were joking around with her as to why only part of it was rolled up. She proceeded to explain that she rolled up the sides early in the evening because she would take them out at bedtime so she could sleep. She said she couldn't sleep with rollers on the sides. I'll never forget her sitting there in her robe laughing and explaining her "beauty secrets".

It was late when the game was finally over. Mom gave us some pumpkin pie to take home. She'd made some for dessert. I remember giving her a hard time about the Walmart brand "cool whip" she'd bought. It was runny and she didn't like that I'd complained about it. Yeah, I was complaining, but mostly just to give her a hard time. I liked to tease her. I was always grateful of anything she made.

This all took place 1 month ago today. Hard to believe how things have changed.

Susie

Today was Saturday. No golf for Dad. He never played on the weekends.
It was not good weather here anyway. Snow showers and cold.

I would usually call over there at some point on Saturdays to see what was going on. I knew from 10-11 a.m. they would be taking their shift at the Adoration Chapel. I never talked to Dad much on the phone. If he answered the phone, it meant that Mom was either taking a nap, in the bathroom or outside. Sometimes it would be, "I'm in the basement. I don't know where your mother is." This translated to: "I'm downstairs and I'm not going upstairs to find her." I would usually just say I'd call back later! And then she would call back in a few minutes. Most of the time when he answered, he would say, "Just a minute" and hand over the phone to Mom. I could hear him say, "Betty, it's your daughter". I don't know if he just didn't want to talk on the phone or if he thought I didn't want to talk to him or what. That wasn't true. I would've gladly talked to him but he was always quick to get Mom. On occasion, we would have small talk, but not often.

Tonight I went to 5:00 Mass. A lot of times after church, I'd go by and say hello to them for a few minutes or drop off a bulletin. Or, if I had errands to run, I might stop by before I headed home to Oolitic. However, sometimes they were not home on Saturday nights, as they usually went to visit Fran Becherer, who was 91 and living in an assisted living facility here in town. They might take her a piece of pie or something. Ironically, she died the less than a week after they did. She had been ill, but I was told that the news of their death upset her.

Tonight, due to the snow, they might've made it an early night or not gone at all.

When I filled my bird feeders today, of course I thought of Mom. When I got my own house, I wanted to make sure there was a good place for feeders. Mom so loved feeding her birds. Joe passed his passion for birds onto Mom, who in turn, passed it on to me. I don't think I'll be able to fill my feeders again and not think of her. So many summer nights were spent on the patio talking and watching the birds.

I went over to the house tonight. Couldn't stay too long. Went through a few things but that was about it. It is still so hard for me to be there without them. Just too many reminders of how it was less than a month ago.

Susie

Thank you, Bev for posting!

This is exactly what I was hoping for.

I know Mom hadn't felt good in so long--esp. in the mornings. But I do believe she was feeling better. This PMR thing wasn't going to "get" her.

I did not know Dad had been taking her to church. Thanks for sharing.

Susie

Yes, Susie, your Mom would not have liked the wind today. She would come out of church on a windy day and say "It's too cold to stand out here and talk today" and off she would go walking home. They would usually walk to church but since your Mom had not felt good all winter, your Dad would drive up so she could go with him. Usually you always saw them in church together but this winter there were many times when she just didn't feel well enough to go.

They both loved to go to the little family reunions we would have but this fall when it was at Eddie' Farm again , she didn't feel up to it. The day before we left for Arizona , (Feb 8th) I was talking to her and she seemed to be feeling so much better and was looking forward to Spring .

Bev

Today it is near 50 here. Sunny, but very windy. Dad probably wouldn't have played golf today.

Instead, he would've most likely gone to the grocery. Seems like he went every day or at least every other day. Then, he and Mom might've gone to Walmart or CVS to pick up something. I ran into them at CVS a lot and sometimes Walmart. Sometimes Lowes. We were always seeing them around town.

I would've had an email from Mom by now today. Then, when I went home for lunch at Noon, I would've called her to tell what birds I had on my feeder and ask her what ones she had on hers. This reminded me of the 5 pigeons that flew by the church at their funeral. Pigeons! Man, Mom hated pigeons. I spent an entire summer once trying to shoot as many of them as I could with the pellet gun for her. Not something I'm really proud of, but I did it for her. She hated them so much! She didn't like them eating the bird seed. And she didn't want the Grackles or Starlings to eat it, either. She'd stand at the back door and clap her hands to chase them off. Or tap on the window in her bedroom that looks out on the feeders. Mom probably wouldn't have tried to go walking today due to the wind.

Of course today being a Friday in Lent, they would've gone to Church for the Stations of the Cross or whatever Lenten service was being held. They would've also prepared their classic "Friday during Lent" supper: scrambled eggs and "Kraft Dinner" as Mom always called it. Just mac and cheese, but she always called it "Kraft Dinner". Or, she might've made tuna salad for sandwiches and asked me to come over for lunch and have one. Sometimes they fried fish, too, on Fridays. They had just discovered Talapia, I think. Made it recently.

Went to the house just now. Watered some plants. Brought a planter back to the library. Someone had taken the covers off Mom's front porch furniture and put them under the furniture--maybe to keep the wind from blowing them away? Not sure who did this. Maybe a neighbor?

Susie

OK, guess I'll go first. Today was a rainy one here in Bedford. Temp in the 50's. It would've been warm enough for Dad to play golf, but he wouldn't have gone, even if his golfing buddies called. He would not play golf in the rain. Mom maybe would've gone walking between showers. If they'd been babysitting one of the Dachsies, they would've taken it for a walk, too. Dad loved to take the dogs for a walk around the neighborhood. Sometimes Mom went too.

Spring is getting near. Now when I hear birds singing, I think of Mom. Today there were some birds outside the library singing their hearts out. I think they were cardinals.

I won't go to the house today. I have to work tonight until 8:00. But I'm sure I'll be there tomorrow. The people here at work have been supportive. They listen to me talk. They offer words of comfort. They give me things to read on grief. Everyone, it seems, is hurting along with me. Other people talk about losing one or both of their parents. I know it happens. I know it is part of life. But it wasn't supposed to happen like this--both at once. I am still trying accept it.

That's all for now.

Love,

Susie