Tag: Mom

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Wednesday came calling. I agreed to meet, have some coffee, see where the day drives us.

Thinking of the snowstorm that hit the northeastern U.S. Probably hit Canada, too, but when the U.S. is involved, news of other countries is often crowded out in my realm. Photos and videos are ripe click bait the last few days as stories about the snow’s depth piled up. Some people claim in comments, that’s Photoshop. It wasn’t that bad. Everything is questioned.

Misty damp gray dresses Wednesday here. It’s the day before Thanksgiving in the U.S., November 23, 2022. 38 F, with a shy sun and smirking clouds that hold the sky. The high temperature will be 52 F. For the record, sunrise and set are 7:11 AM and 7:43 PM.

Catching up on Mom news. I text her every morning. It’s about making her feel better. She changed bedspreads, washed the old stuff, put it in the storage bag and then into the closet. Live-in boyfriend helped. He’s 92, damn good shape. She meets with her doctor today to discuss her latest issue, the yokenella regensburgei. No growth after the five-day colony test. Nothing there. So. What to do, the doctors are debating. She meets with them today.

The Neurons have “Hypnotized” by Fleetwood Mac in the MMMS (TM pending). Not about being hypnotized, but the sentiment taken from the opening verses about the same old story. Reading news, déjà vu rakes the senses. I’ve been here before, not too long ago. The day is comfortable, but is that safe?

Other than that, preparing for our now almost traditional friendsgiving celebration. Spouse does almost all of our contribution. We’re being simple this year. I’ve prepared things in the past so we would both take something, but this year, she drew back and said, “I’m just doing deviled eggs and a cheese and cracker spread. We’ll also take a nice bottle of wine.” She’s in charge, so I replied, “Okay.” Be about eighteen people there, all vaxxed. Most have also had COVID. It’s at a farmhouse in the country. Hope it’s a clear night there, as I love standing in that empty space by their house, considering the stars.

Coffee is ready so Wednesday and I will have a cup, see what shakes out. Stay positive, test negative. Here’s the music. It’s Fleetwood Mac with Bob Welch. Bob wrote the song.

Cheers

0

Thursday’s Theme Music

The autumn sky is doing an awesome impersonation of summer. Scanning down to the trees, snow still caps the mountains. Further down and we see the autumn leaves on trees. Then, lower, comes the hard frost. Looks can deceive unless you take in the full picture.

It’s 32 F now and feels like 30 but no fear, it’ll soon be 40, then keep going until it summits 49. Then we’ll ride back down into the cold valley for the night.

Sunrise heralded this gorgeous, clear, cold sky at 6:55 AM. The other end of the stick will come at 4:54 PM. This is Thursday, November 10, 2022.

My beer gang meet last night and discussed election results and other news, along with the books by Mary Roach. We also had two guests as teachers. We gave them $600 to fund three more microscopes, continuing our funding of their hands-on workshops. Last year, we gave them six, so they now will have nine. The teachers do a joint curriculum of biology and social students of their third and fourth grade classes. They also loan the microscopes to other classes. Next week, the high school robotic team will come in and pitch to them. We plan to donate $500 to them, as we have for several years. We’re also addressing a donation to ScienceWorks to support a new project for them, providing students with hands-on project management experience. For this year, we’ve donated $2500 to the causes, all from donations collected each week when we have beer. We’ve donated over $35,000 in the ten years we’ve been doing this, all to support STEM at all levels, which is being expanded to STEAM.

The outside weather (yes, tell me where else it would be?) reminds The Neurons of my high school years. Jump out of bed early, kick it to clean up and dress, then out to catch the 7 AM bus as the sun is rising. Cold, hard ground covered with ice and frost thrived in the shadow. Foot stamping and hands in pockets are rampant while the sun drags itself over the hills and trees, shifting from apricots to gold to white sunshine. Daylight pulls in just as the bus reaches the school after its six-mile run with all its stops.

That ground cements the memory, pulling up a 1973 out of memory’s rear end. “Cindy Incidentally” by Faces, which was soon Rod Steward and Faces, and then — well, you know. Rock history is heavy with bands that formed and then dissolved, whether they succeeded or not. I always enjoyed Faces and was dismayed that the album with “Cindy Incidentally” was on was their final. Rod went on to huge success, fluidly shifting toward a disco style during his lengthy solo career. But I liked the Faces’s bluesy sound. Oh, well. Change, right?

The specific lyrics which gave The Neurons the idea for this song was that piece that goes, “And your local papers run out of news.” That’s due to our conversation while imbibing our beer that we don’t have a local newspaper. It’s gone under after going through ownership changes. Nor is there a daily paper for neighboring cities. We depend on the net and broadcast media.

In late-breaking news, Mom has returned to the hospital. She has pain in her appendix’s region. Ironically, she was scheduled for a Saturday CT to ensure her appendix is healed. It was perforated back in early September, contributing extensively to her medical melodrama. Fingers crossed that the tough old broad — her term for herself — will pull through again.

Stay positive and test negative. We have music coming up, and coffee has arrived. Have a most excellent day. Cheers

0

A Mom Dream

I was visiting Mom’s place. She was younger than RL, more aligned with the mom known throughout most of my adulthood.

I was younger, but my sisters were their current agents. Their children were present, too, contemporary as adults to me.

Visiting Mom’s place was a process of exploring because she’d moved. On the bottom floor, décor in shades of gray, black, and white dominated. The building was long and wide. I went outside to check out her backyard. I discovered trimmed trees organized in rows. I wondered if they were fruit trees and looked for evidence of that but found nothing conclusive. While I was looking, I inadvertently broke off one branch. Embarrassed, I didn’t want to be caught and looked around for somewhere to hide the branch. Looking up, I saw Mom watching me and smiling from a window above.

I went back in. As I walked through this floor, I realized it wasn’t a house but an apartment building, and I was in the lobby. My sisters and her children arrived, and then their children’s friends. We started having drinks. Many of the children were talking about the Lockheed C5 Galaxy, a huge transport plane. A dream news story said only two or three remained. Some foreign government was quoted as saying that they wanted the aircraft but the U.S. wouldn’t give them up. Some of the children suggested that if they were the other government, they would steal them. I went into a pedantic explanation about security and how that would be difficult because C5s were labeled ‘Priority A’. I suggested that if the C5s were stolen, the U.S. would probably shoot them down so that others couldn’t have them.

We went outside, to the building’s front after this conversation, where the party expanded, becoming louder, concerning me about disturbing the building’s residents. People proposed going to other places. I said that I would need to change.

Then Mom called down to me on the intercom. I answered it. She was asking me if I could go get something for her, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying because her voice was very weak through the intercom. Others came over to help interpret what Mom asked for. I thought she was saying that she wanted some pills like the ones I’d gotten for her before, and that they were available at a store or locker in the building’s rear, but I couldn’t fully comprehend what she meant.

That’s where the dream ended.  

0

A Short Mom Dream

Snow had fallen but now a sun blazed in the sky, transforming roads into slushy paths. All very picturesque, though. I was inside the house, waiting for Mom to return with my sisters. As usual, I hid from them when they first came in, springing out and surprising them, making them laugh.

We were busy with a multitude of things simultaneously. I went out and walked on the slushy asphalt, testing my footing. It all seemed safe.

A sister called my name from the house door, telling me that Mom wanted my help. When I went in, Mom was struggling with papers and stuff on a table. “Help me figure out my transportation, Michael,” she said. “I need to know who to call and where I need to go when I need to go somewhere.”

Sisters were in the mess, reading things. I picked up a few items and realized after reading that she only needed to go two places to catch transportation. So I marked the phone with bold black letters and began explaining things to her.

She immediately began firing protests back. “But what if I want to — “

I kept explaining that it could all be done with what I’d figured out. Press the 1 one the phone where I’d marked it to go to these places. Press the two for these places. The telephone numbers were programmed into the phone. Then she just needed to go to the place corresponding to the one or the two to be picked up. 1’s pickup spot was her house, so she didn’t even need to leave.

We went on in that vein for a few minutes before the dream ended.

It reminded me so much of being home last month and helping Mom figure out her medications.

2

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Early dark thirty. Far before the sun’s scheduled arrival after seven. I’m waiting for my sister to pick me up and convey me to the airport. I’m always depending on my family and their kindness. She is one of the best.

It’s Tuesday, October, 11, 2022, exactly, without planning, one month since my arrival in Pittsburgh. Mom was in the hospital when I arrived, fighting COVID as it attacked her heart, lungs, and everything else it could lash out at. Nurses told my sisters it was very possible that Mom may not survive. It was one of the worst COVID cases they’d seen since the pandemic’s start for that hospital staff. Besides COVID and fluid in her heart and lungs, her appendix had a perforation and was pouring poisonous material into her body. Her pacemaker was only functioning at 20%. Things looked ugly.

She fought back and came out of it. Now she’s home, recovering, rehabbing, and I’m going home. She is struggling with bouncing blood pressure with a diastolic dropping below 100 too often. She’s on meds to promote good blood flow, keep her blood pressure at a healthy level by lowering it because of what she endured in the hospital, when it was skyrocketing. Now they’re backing those meds off, readjusting them, but her blood pressure is erratic. That’s a concern.

Other than that, she’s recovering her strength and balance, eating well, and so on.

My work here isn’t done but life dictates other needs, so, here I go, back across the country, back home.

It’s a travel day, in the car for thirty minutes, airport for two hours, aircraft for five plus, another hour in another airport, another two hours in a second aircraft, then in a car to reach home, an eleven-hour trip. That’s much better than the pioneers, and not as hazardous.

I feel like a little bit of a basketcase dealing with Mom as I hear her tell me one thing and bend her words so it doesn’t seem as bad when she’s dealing with her medicos and my sisters. Irritating as hell to be honest; makes me feel like an unreliable witness. But alas, these things are not within my control, so I let them go like the air from my lungs.

However, The Neurons jumped all over those feelings, dumping “Basketcase” by Green Day into the morning mental music stream (trademark pending – not really, but it feels like it should be added). So here we go.

My ride is here. Stay pos and test neg. I’ll try to do the same. Here we go. I’ll have coffee at the airport, thanks. Cheers

0

Friday’s Wandering Thought

He recalled the mother of his youth. She was always reading. Michner, Robbins, Jong, paperbacks purchased at drugstores. Movies fascinated her. She always recommended actors, directors, movies.

Now, she doesn’t have time to read. Hasn’t in years. She’d moved from fiction to true crime to nothing. She doesn’t like movies, she says. She wants drama and none of them provide it. Time is spent watching MSNBC, or shows like Doctor Pimple Popper, My Feet Are Killing Me, and Dateline.

It’s not surprising. Everyone changes. He thinks about the episodes, powers, and energies that shaped and reshaped her, rising to a comparison with the planet, and how unseen events work together to reshape the world.

2

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Last night’s sunset was like gold dust was thrown across the sun’s final rays for the day. Pretty and fascinating, shared as photos by a few, it caused me wonder: what’s in the air reflecting the light like that and giving that color?

Today is Wednesday, mid-week of October’s first week. I’ve been here in Pittsburgh a few, visiting, helping Mom and the fam. Also learning the dynamics of who is cool to who, or angry with another family member, and what words and questions to avoid like it’s a UXB.

It’s October 5, 2022. In my mind, we’re racing toward completion of the first quarter of this century. So much potential floats in the air like the stuff turning our sunset gold last night. Sunrise today is silvery clean, coming on at 7:21, about twenty minutes after I opened the back door, stepped into the 42 F air, and breathed deep. The weather the announced it’ll be 70 F and sunny today. I’ll pop the shorts back on. Sunset will sneak in at six minutes before seven in the evening.

Mom is doing a lot better by day. All her appointments and visits went well. Strength, balance, and co-ordination is returning. Her old personality and ways are emerging out of the sickness morass. But as noted, some things require walking on eggshells, broken glass, smoking coals. Gently, gently, lest you alienate another or get hurt yourself. Caution will see you through. Taking it in, The Neurons said, “This sounds like an opening for Annie Lennox.” They commenced playing “Walking on Broken Glass” from 1992. The album was part of my wife’s music rotation when we cleaned house every Saturday in the mid 1990s, so I heard it a chunk o’ times.

Stay positive and test negative. Coffee has already answered my call. Needed it to assist Mom with some matters and present her breakfast. Ready to jump into the day, starting with a shower. Here’s the tune. Y’all have a good ‘un.

Cheers

0

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Sunlight highlighted a ridge of blue clouds in the eastern sky at 7:20 AM in Pittsburgh. Looks like another day of sun and clouds and temperatures in the mid 40s F to low sixties F. Autumn is taking a firmer hold as leaves acquiesce their green and yield to becoming other things. They’re good with going with the flow. Sunset arrives at 6:56 PM. Yes, we’ve broken the 7 PM barrier.

The shrinking daylight portion seems accelerated during my Pittsburgh time. Less than three weeks ago, I’d rise, go to windows, open blinds, and see the day beginning as the sun crested the east. Now, I wait for a few minutes before enough light announces that sunrise is coming.

I was out with Mom and a sister yesterday, escorting Mom to PCP and MRI appointments, and picking up ointment at a store. As she drove, my sister kept talking about road signs, particularly a large ROAD CLOSED sign sitting in some grass, surrounded by trees, on a road that no longer exists, which we used to take as a shortcut. Next thing I know, The Neurons have snuck “The Sign” by Ace of Base (1993) into the mental music stream. It’s a frothy song, a little techno, simple lyrics and an easy beat, which hooks minds with its simplicity. When I first heard the song, I thought I already knew it. Like many songs I feature here as theme music, I’d never seen the video before.

Short post today. Stay positive, test negative, get your boosters. Coffee and breakfast are calling. Have a better one. Cheers

2

Monday’s Theme Music

Here in Pittsburgh, PA, Monday, October 3, 2022, appears to a lovely autumn day. That’s the message given out by the 7:19 sunrise. No clouds. Comfortable 40 F with expectations of 62. Slow silvery rise over the trees that began sunnier and brighter. The silver found gold and the air found warmth.

Mom has appointments today, including her PCP, so I’m up getting ready for that. Computer had issues yesterday that I addressed but some issues lingered from that. My wife left a voice mail on my phone that she has Internet issues at home, so she needs to call me so I can walk her through rebooting. Gonna be a busy day.

Looking at photos all over Mom’s house, I thought about growing up. The Neurons fed in the line, “To face this on my own, well, I guess that this is growing up.” Just like that, Blink-182’s 1997 song, “Dammit”, is in the morning mental music stream. It’s a straightforward song, fast beat, nice sound that I always enjoyed. Hope you do as well.

Now must go grow up. Kick into adulting gear. Stay positive, test negative. Excuse me, I gotta go get coffee. Adulting requires coffee. Have the best one you can.

Cheers

0

Sunday’s Theme Music

Graylight heralded dawn and a tombstone-like sky at 7:17 this morning. The red squirrel was busy early, a crimson slash racing across the emerald lawn and through the trees. He was probably making up for yesterday, when steady rain gifted to us by Hurricane Ian kept the wildlife passive and sheltered. The deer did show yesterday and popped into the side yard outside the kitchen window as I prepared Mom’s breakfast just after sunrise.

Today is October of 2022’s first Sunday, and the second day of the month. Birthdays galore this month for our tribe. July and October are our busiest birthday months. This day will see lows of 50 F and highs of 64 with light rain. Sunset cometh this evening, 7:01 PM.

Mom continues improving. Next week will be a big challenge, with three doctor appointments and seven home visits – physical and occupational therapists, nurse, and nurse aide. I’ll probably be flying west to home the week after, I think. I miss my partners, aka my wife and floofs. I’ve only been here 22 days but it seems longer. My days are more idle as Mom gets healthier and does more for herself. I’m deliberately drawing back, mindful as I do, to test her skills, along with her partner. He’s 92 and well-meaning, in decent health, but he gets tired and forgetful, totally understandable.

BTW, did you see that after Ian’s strike on Florida and the southeastern US, and his travels up the Atlantic coast, another storm is intensifying and heading towards Mexico. Busy storm season. The death and destruction already seen is enervating and demoralizing.

I have Veruca Salt orbiting the morning mental music stream with their song, “Seether”, from 1994. The song is a throwback, solid grunge, simple chords, a steady beat. The band’s name is familiar from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Originally hearing it caused a double take followed by a short burst of laughter. Anyway, the song came into my head when I was dealing with Mom yesterday. She’d become worked up about an issue and I started chatting with her to distract her and calm her down. Lo’, The Neurons awoke and said, “Hey, that reminds me of that Veruca Salt song,” and here we are.

Side note: today’s post was delayed by house guests.

Stay positive, and test negative, and so on, and do what you need to take care of yourself and your people and tribe. I’d have coffee, thanks. Here’s the music. Hope you enjoy it.

Cheers

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑