I deleted Mom and Dad's borrower records from the library database today. They got their library cards in Feb. of 1996. Mom on the 28th and Dad on the 29th. Kind of weird, really, since I didn't start working here until March 2006. Anyway, Dad last used his card in July 2006. It was probably me checking something out for him. I forgot to look at Mom's. I used to check out quilting books for her. I'd check out religious stuff for Dad. I bet what he had in July was stuff on digital cameras. They just bought a new one for the trip to Yellowstone. I decided to delete their records today...not sure why today, but when I look up my name, I kept seeing theirs. Whereas that used to give me comfort, now, it seems to give me pain.

Last night we worked over at the house and it felt good. Got rid of some stuff and put a few things back in the attic. There was some of their old luggage and a couple of Mom's new pieces. Mom had a bunch stuff in hers. Baggies, little containers, hair nets, lots of shower caps, toothpaste and toothbrush I recognized from last year's trip. Dad's suitcase had a small roll of toilet paper in it! That is so Dad! The hardest thing to throw away was Mom's little hair nets. After she rolled her hair at night, she'd put these on. It was a nightly ritual. Hard to believe this time last year, we were anticipating our trip to Yellowstone. I sure never thought less than a year later they would be gone. That trip now will always be bittersweet to me. It was such a great trip--all of us together again. It was like we got one last time to all be together. But I had looked forward to reminiscing with them about it this summer--getting out the pictures, etc. Now I can't really even look at those pictures because they make me sad. Yellowstone was something to see--wow. But now I don't know when I'll be able to enjoy those pictures again--if ever. Mom had a good time. It is hard to tell about Dad. He liked to look at the map as we were driving, but sometimes he wouldn't get out and look at the sites. Well, Mom wouldn't always either. But she was dealing with her PMR. That's another story for another time.

That's all for now.

I seem to be having a hard time again. Why now? I miss Mom. I miss her all the time. I miss Dad, too, but it is different. I can't stop thinking about all the things I will never get to do with Mom again. All our shopping trips. Going to the Indy Zoo. Traveling. Taking her places. I loved my little mom. I wanted to take care of her. I miss being with her and talking to her. I haven't talked to her for 4 months. And...I will never talk to her again. I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get to tell her or Dad I loved them. I hope they knew...I think they did...but I never got to tell them one last time. I want to give her a hug. Dad wouldn't hardly let you hug him, but I'd give him one, too.
I talked to John for an hour last night. He told me he went to see a therapist and he cried for an hour. It is hard for me to think of him and the pain and suffering. It makes me cry, too--for him, for me and for Mom and Dad. He said they didn't deserve to die that way. I've had those same thoughts and feelings. I still keep thinking of it and getting bad pictures in my head. Everyone says to just not think about it. Sometimes I can do that and sometimes it just comes and I can't stop it. Now Bob and Bev are going to Jasper tomorrow to pick up John's new dog, Buddy. Same situation. Same scenario. They're even eating at the Schnitzelbank, which was the last place Mom and Dad ate. It is all too freaky. I don't like it. I'm going over to I Street now to work on the house. Not looking forward to that, either.

Susie

"You forget the things you want to remember and remember the things you want to forget."

This came from a book I'm reading, called, "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy.
How true it is. I try so hard to remember things about Mom and Dad. I'm afraid I'm going to forget little things, and I don't want to. But then my memory doesn't seem to be lacking when it comes to February 9. Too much of that day and the following several days I can't seem to forget.

Some work on the house was finished this week. Our half bath in the attic is done and we have a new floor in the rest of the attic. Nothing fancy, but still! It is good, I think, to have something new. A new room that totally had nothing to do with Mom and Dad. Well, Mom always wanted a bathroom upstairs. She talked about it for years. But...they never did it. Not sure why. It is
kind of strange. Mom is exactly the person I want to show the new room, too. I find myself wanting to show her what we've done and what color we painted. But if they hadn't died, we wouldn't be moving over there and we wouldn't have remodeled. I still want to show it to her, though. Get her reaction and approval. I think she'd like it.

Now we have to put stuff back in the attic, paint the bedrooms upstairs. Then move Mom and Dad's bedroom furniture upstairs to my old bedroom, and then...not sure. But we're getting there. Slowly but surely, we'll get moved over there.

This week I went to a reunion of sorts of my Bereavement Group. The counselor said it gets really hard again at 6 months. I guess that's when you really accept things. I know I'm not there yet. I still find it really hard to accept that they are gone, and the way that it happened. I still having moments over at the house when I think they should be there or that it feels strange them not being there. I still think of them when I walk out the door--picture Dad walking down the steps or on the sidewalk in front of the house. I saw an older lady in a Le Sabre yesterday and it reminded me of Mom. I could picture her coming down the hill at I Street in her sun glasses and pulling in the driveway. I can still see her out in the yard filling her bird feeders, looking at her plants and flowers, sitting out on the back patio. We used to sit out there and talk. Mom used to also sit on the front porch a lot at night by herself. Sometimes I wouldn't even know she was out there. She'd be over there in the corner. I think I will always think of her when I sit over there.

Somehow her little hummingbird rain gauge got broken. I think either the fence guys did it or Larry or Charllie. I think she bought that over at Nashville--maybe at the Bartley House. It made me think about going to Nashville with her. We went every October and had been doing it for at least 20 years. I'd even come home from Chicago in October so we could go. I don't know if I can go this year. I loved going with her. That was our day. We'd go to Nashville and shop, maybe eat lunch at the Ordinary or Hob Knobb. We always hit the candle place, the Trilogy, the Bartley House. Then we usually went to the Brown County State Park and drive around--looking at the fall leaves, etc. We didn't do that last year. I think she wasn't feeling well and was tired from the prednisone. The year before we really spent a long time there.

Well, now I'm rambling. So better go.

Susie

Today was Father's Day. I miss Dad. I'd always get him a cake and some little gift just to let him know I loved him. Something golf related. Dad always got such a kick out of getting a cake. He loved sweets. If you got him a cake or a pie, he was happy. So I hope wherever he is, he got a big cake today... Love you, Dad.

Susie

Today, Fence Masters out of Bloomington finished work on the fence at I Street. We gated in 3 corners and finished out the corner down by the patio. We felt we had to do this for the dogs. They are used to our fenced in yard and also, they don't know to stay in the yard. Sophie would stay in the yard (Mom trained her). In a week, Larry and Charlie should have the attic and bathroom done. It feels strange making these changes--but it feels good, too. We are making the house our own ready for new memories.

But I still miss them so much.

Love,

Susie

55th Wedding Anniversary

Today would've been Mom and Dad's 55th Wedding Anniversary. On this day in 1952, Mom and Dad were married at St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church in Bedford, Indiana. This picture was taken in 2002 on their 50th Wedding Anniversary. Mom didn't want anything special. We would've gladly given them a big party, but all they wanted was a private Mass celebrated by John and with immediate family. So, we went to this little church in New Harmony, Indiana called Holy Angels. John arranged for us to have the church to ourselves. It was John saying Mass, and me, Joe and Judy, Jonna and Susan in attendance. That was it. It was very nice. Very touching. Mom and Dad were beaming. I think Dad would've had a party if Mom had wanted it, but she didn't. She didn't want a big fuss made. We had the Mass, we went to the Red Geranium at the New Harmony Inn to dinner. I think John had taken them there before. We had a special table and they had a special cake made. Their anniversary was on a Friday. We stayed the night and the next day we went to Newburgh, Indiana on the Ohio River for shopping and sight seeing. Last year, they went to St. Louis to visit Mom's cousin, Mary K. They went up in the arch on the 14th and the Botanical Gardens. (According to Mom's journal.)
Tonight I went to visit their graves. I wanted to be with them on this day. Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad.

Today, remodeling started on the house at I Street. The guys (Larry Bond and Charlie Elkins) installed piping today for the small bathroom we are putting in the attic. They had to cut a hole in the wall in the kitchen. They are also going to put a floor in the attic and put up some plywood on the walls. Just fix it up a little. The fence guys (FenceMasters) started work on the fence today. We need to completely close in the fence so that Greta and Fritzi can't get out. They love our fenced in backyard so much in Oolitic. I admit, I felt kind of weird making these changes on the house. But, in a way, I suppose it is a good thing. We are making it our own. They are doing a good job. I sure wouldn't want to work up in that attic! I am anxious to see how it turns out. The fence will probably be done by the weekend. After the bathroom is done and the fence, we'll have the two bedrooms painted upstairs and then really get serious about moving in. We bought some ceiling fans for up there, too. First, we'll finish removing their things. Things we don't want/need will be taken to the armory for auction. We cleaned out the closet over the TV in the living room. Wow! That top shelf is really up there. All the stuff is out of the attic and in the bedrooms upstairs. Some of this will go back in the attic; some not. I keep wondering what Mom and Dad would think about our changes. Mom always wanted a bathroom upstairs. She'd talked about it for years. And she wanted a floor in the attic. She probably wouldn't have liked the fence. For some reason, when they got the fence, they decided to only close in one corner. I think Mom didn't want feel "enclosed". Her landscaping will stay intact. They are working around it.
Love, Susie

Sophie -- January 9, 1991 - June 2, 2007

Yesterday, my beloved Dachshund, Sophie, passed away. She was 16. This is a picture of Mom and Sophie--not sure when taken. At least 2-3 years ago. I got Sophie on February 25, 1991 when she was 6 weeks old. I remember bringing her home to show Mom and Dad...Mom thought something was wrong with Sophie's eyes because she had those brown spots as eyebrows! I told her they were supposed to be that way. :-) Of course in this picture, her eyebrows are white. Mom and Dad took care of Sophie for me when I first got her until I moved back home from Bloomington. Then I lived there until 1994, so Sophie grew up with Mom and Dad. Mom housebroke her and trained her to stay in the yard and on the front porch. Sophie NEVER made a mess in the house until the last year or so when she was getting sick. I attribute that to Sophie being the best dog, but also to Mom's training. When I moved to Woodbridge, IL, Mom and Dad brought Sophie up one weekend after keeping her while I moved. It was just Sophie and me in Chicago and I couldn't have made it without her. She was the only thing that kept me afloat. She was my best buddy. After I came back from from Chicago in 1996, Mom and Dad took care of Sophie a lot. When I lived on T Street in Bedford, Dad would go over during the day and get her and take her to their house. I called them her "Grandparents" and she their "Granddog". Sometimes I would drop her off at "doggie day care" on my way to work and say I dropped her off at Grandma's. Mom would send me emails and say "Sophie's such a good doggie. She likes it here."
She was my dog, but kind of theirs, too. She was always over at their house.
In the past few years, Sophie started getting me up at night a lot, so sometimes I'd let her stay overnight at Mom and Dad's so I could get some rest. Over there, she would stay in her little crate and sleep all night. As a matter of fact, I was supposed to take her over there the night of their accident. Dad had brought her crate down from upstairs and it was sitting in the dining room ready for her. I would say I was taking Sophie over there for "Betty Boot Camp" and get her back on the right schedule. Susan came up with that phrase and we loved it. The last time she was over at their house was on January 9 of 2007--for her "birthday party." We always had cake and ice cream on her birthday.
I knew in October that Sophie would not be here too much longer. The vet said her kidneys were going and she already had congestive heart failure. I knew Christmas 2006 would be her last one. But I did not know that it would be Mom and Dad's last one, too. I always thought Sophie would go before Mom and Dad--that they would be here with me when the time came. But she didn't. I think she stayed around to help me through their deaths. She was here for me--one more time. For a long time she had not been sleeping with me under the covers. She would just lay on top. But after they died, she started getting under the covers and curling up next to me. I think she knew I needed her--I needed the warmth and comfort of her little body to help me fall asleep. So I think she stayed around to help me. But we are moving to their house on I Street pretty soon, and I was worried about moving her again. Even though she knew the house--she was pretty blind and deaf and would wonder a lot through the house. I thought it might really be hard on her to move at this stage. Plus, she had been getting worse the last few weeks. I did not want her to suffer, and I wanted to do the right thing when the time came. At 5:00 am, I called the vet and he said she was not suffering and was in and out of consciousness. So, I just let her go naturally. She was on the couch in her favorite spot with Susan and I by her side. Her little heart just finally gave out. She was fine at 5:30 pm on Friday night. By 6:55 am on Saturday morning, she was gone.

There will never be another Sophie. She was such a good, good dog. We had a strong bond. I could tell by the way she looked at me. She was my baby--the really special one that you only have once in a lifetime. I will miss her for the rest of my life.

Love,

Susie