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Met my love 30 years ago today.
I always thought I was a romantic but after nearly 30 years together, I freely admit it is Paul that is the true romantic.
We were supposed to met at a local restaurant. We didn’t know much more about each other than our names. He knew I was deaf and that I would be wearing a red and white polka dot blouse. Thanks goodness he was at the restaurant before me so was looking for a walking polka dot figure or else I might have had to play a guessing game. When we introduced ourselves and shook hands, I felt like tiny electric shocks was shooting through me. I never experienced that sort of chemistry with any man or boys I dated. I was too practical to fall for a guy upon meeting for the first time so just brushed it off. We went into the restaurant and began to get acquainted and all the time I am thinking, “On, he’s one of the few people I can’t lipread with ease,” I liked him because he seemed so sincere and polite. He knew how to treat a lady and said, “I know we agreed to go go Dutch here but I would be honored if you would let this be my treat.” He was a real gentleman but it was so hard to understand him so much of it was me just nodding and following verbal and facial clues. Well, I just made the best of it but secretly chalked it of as a flop. Paul confirmed that thought when he told me he had to leave to go to the office to finish up some work. “Sure, you do on a Sunday.” I thought. Nothing was said about another date. Being too much the lady, I just said goodbye. I need to say that all communication was via snail mail. Paul didn’t knowmy last name or address. I had rented a post office box. My name was in the phone book. We met on a Sunday and on Monday there was another letter. He enjoyed it enough to ask me to meet him at another restaurant. I wrote back and said I would. I planned to tell him that since I couldn’t understand him, it would be better to call it off. Imagine the lovely surprise when he signed,”How are you?” as I walked into the restaurant. Apparently, he knew that I was having difficulty understanding him that he rushed to the library and learned the manual alphabet and the 3 signs. My practical heart became mush.
Thirty years later we are still together and celebrate the day we met and our wedding anniversary. Oh yes, Paul admit some time later that he too felt the “physical chemistry” when we shook hands. That is a story for another day.
Just gotta brag
Don’t know how many of you watch Dancing with the Stars but it is something to watch on Monday nights especially this last season. Nyle De Marco is a young man who is a graduate from Gallaudet University. He won American’s next Top Model and now is on DWTS. He is a handsome man with a beautiful personality. If only I was 40 years younger. SIGH Ha Nyle was paired with Peta and during the second week they got the highest scores from the judges for that week. Monday night they switch all the partners and Nyle got Sharna. They did a Viennese waltz and it was so beautiful that Carrie Ann was all choked up. Would You believe that they got 9s and 10s. The only 10s of the night. Even though it was harder on Nyle than it was on the others to use a new partner, he smiled and gave his all. Win or lose, this person is a winner in every way. Watch and vote for this hunk.
Tags: Nyle De Marco
One of the members asked me to tell Mishap 4 of the cooking saga so here it is. That one was a funny one though not intentional. My mother in law had shared a corn side dish. I made it several times before. It was Thanksgiving at Mom's with galore of food. I had made my corn dish at Mom's. My family just loved that dish so when it was time to dig in and eat, they all started eating. My brother in law took a rather big bit of the corn dish and started choking, gasping, coughing and tearing up. One by one all the other family members were choking and gasping except my DH(Dear Hubby) who is from NM where the hotter the better. I was dumbfounded; they acted like they were being poisoned. I had yet to take a bite so just kept staring at my family. Finally one of my sisters' gasped out, "What kind of chilies did you use." knowing my family were wimps, I replied, "I used two cans and you know that stuff is mild." Her husband who was finally regaining his composure leaned over to his wife and whispered "Tell her to prove it." Rolling my eyes in absolute disgust, I walked over to the wastebasket to fish the cans and prove it. Of course, I looked first and it said jalapenos, HOT and I used TWO cans. Oops, and in all that time DH is eating and wondering what the hullabaloo was about. Needless to say, hubby ate it with relish and the others avoid it.
Kiwibarb wrote a blog and called it “Cooking Catastrophes” That got me thinking and wondering if I ever made cooking mistakes. Well, ummmm, Oh yeah, I remember the time I was in my teens and decided to fix a simple dinner so Mom wouldn’t have to add cooking to her long day. First things first so I went out to check the mail. Lo, my Good Housekeeping magazine came. I grabbed the ground beef from the refrigerator and put it in a light weight pan and started to brown it. About that time Mom walked in and asked what I was fixing. “Macaroni and hamburger,” I replied Mom went to change her clothes then returned to the Kitchen and there I was slaving over the hot stove with the GHmagazine turned to one of their regular features, “My Problem and How I Solved It” in my left hand and my right hand stirring the ground beef and both eyes on the article. Mom tapped me on the shoulder and I jumped and somehow hit the long handle of the pan. You guessed it, the dog had a hamburger feast and the humans mac and cheese. Mishap 2 tells the story of my first and last attempt to bake chocolate brownies in the microwave. I knew all about microwave ovens(I thought) since they were common in college dorms. That summer found me pretty cocky, after all, I just finished my first year of college. Mom had a box of brownie mix so I followed the directions for microwave oven. Bake for 10 minutes then let set for another ten. For good measure, I baked them for 12 minutes and checked. Still doughy so set the timer for another ten minutes. Well, to make a long story short I kept the resetting the timer about 5 times before I gave up and took the brownies out. By then they still had a mushy center. I put the pan on the counter and just went out for the evening. When I came home that night, there was a note by the brownies from my brother. He wrote, I’ve heard of petrified wood but never heard of petrified brownies.” Mishap 3, It was the first Thanksgiving with my husband and step daughter. I was planning a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. I cleaned and rinsed the turkey stuffed it with a recipe from the GH magazine. When I took the turkey out of the oven and was putting the dressing in a bowl. I found a bag of turkey organs.(liver,kidneys,neck) I looked at Paul “where did this come from?” I asked. Didn’t you clean it? “Yeah, I ran water over it but nobody told me to check inside. That’s gross.” From then on my Dear Hubby prepared the turkey. Mishap 4 was using two cans of jalapeño peppers instead of mild green chilies but I’ll forego that one. Ha Telling the world about 3 cooking disasters will probably suffice without me confessing all my kitchen flops
I hate funerals and always have. They just make me feel worse than ever. All my life I avoided them. I didn’t discriminate casual friends or close relatives, I just avoided their funerals. Mom’s funeral and later Cynthia’s, a close friend were the only two I chose to go to for my own piece of mind. My husband has my support if he has to go to a relative’s funeral otherwise; I rather remember them as they were and not lying lifeless in a coffin. The last few years have found me ether physically or just mentally acknowledging friends leaving this earth. I am having to face the fact that like me, friends and loved ones are in their twilight years. I find myself remembering things from childhood long forgotten. I remember the Christmas in 1963 when Mom gave me an autograph book. Oh how proud I was of that gift. Mom was the first to write in it. I believe now that Mom in her wisdom knew I would have a hard time dealing with loss that later years would bring. She wrote: When twilight draws her curtains back, and pins them with a star, Remember that I love you, no matter where you are.
Thought I would share what we did today. Most of you know my mom died earlier in 2013. Today would have been her 88th birthday. My sister, Jeanne invited all of us to go over her house to eat then write messages on balloons to release. After we ate we took the balloons and wrote whatever was in our hearts at the time. We all stood in the middle of her yard. Everyone took ahold of the group of strings then let them all go at the same time. It was such an emotional experience. There were 5 balloons. Would you believe all 5 balloons stayed in a group and floated out of sight? What made it so amazing was that there was a slight breeze but NONE of the balloons went in a different direction. One balloon was leading the four balloons. It is almost unbelievable the way those five balloons stayed together all the way up and never scattered. When the four balloons caught up with the leading one it was almost like little children being led by a parent through life. I just couldn't get over it. The balloons were NOT tied together and there was only one short time halfway up when one balloon was way ahead of the other four balloons but still in a cluster. My mother was a single mother that took us children and left my father in order to bring us up without the alcoholic influence of my father and his alcoholic parents. Life wasn't easy for a woman who had to struggle financially and emotionally to bring up her 4 kids. We love and miss her so much. Not one of the balloons popped or scattered, just remain floating in that cluster until out of sight, beyond the clouds.
A week ago we were awaken at 3:00 am and told that Mom wasn’t expected to live much longer. Paul and I rushed up to the nursing home. We stayed five hours. During that time Mom woke up once and tried to say something. I’ve always had a spiritual or mental connection to Mom so I felt she was trying to tell us to leave. A week before that she had been alert enough to say she loved us and said Good-bye. We all left around 8:00 am. but planned to go back later that afternoon. At 10:00 a.m, they called to say she passed. We were expecting it but when it happened, I felt a part of me went with her. I find myself about to say to Paul, I’m going over Mom’s” then realized she is only in my heart. I am so thankful that we had her for 88 years. Even though her mental health was about destroyed, she remained mentally healthy until she developed Lewy Body Dementia four years ago. Her heart is what failed her. Mom is gone but will never be forgotten.
Please forgive me for not writing personal notes to those who respond to my blog about Mom. I started out tonight with intentions of writing but I just can’t. All I can do at this point is to try to get through the days and nights. Please know I appreciate everyone's kind words. Jeanne and I gave permission to stop the heart med that is keeping that tired but loving heart beating. I sit by her side for hours every day praying that she will go. I love her too much to be selfish by wanting her to stay. She isn’t sleeping peacefully. She screams and slaps at imaginary snakes. Those that have read my blogs know Mom has a true phobia of snakes. She had a hard life and the only thing that she considered good in her life were her children but unfortunately, her unpleasant memories seem to overshadow any good memories. For hours I watch her grimacing, crying and gasping for breath. She finally woke up tonight for a few hours after sleeping constantly since yesterday. She tried so hard to talk. When she takes that final breath, I will be so happy for her but will weep for me because I have to let her go..
Mom hasn't passed yet but it is only a matter of hours or days. The doctors and nurses are warning us so we are trying to prepare a reserve of strength to handle it. As big and loving her heart is, it can not continue to work with only a 10% function. For me, Mom was always my best friend. The word “was” is a horrible word to use here but Mom developed Lewy’s Body Dementia and her once sharp, witty and inquisitive mind saw a quick decline in the last year and half. I know without a doubt that if mom could regain mental clarity for a 5 minute period she would spend it scolding and bawling out my sister and I for letting her get to this point even though she would know we had nothing to do with it. Point is, Mom has always said she never want to reach the point where she needs to be care for like an infant. Still, how can I be satisfied on my memories alone? Will I be able to go on without her always supporting me when life threw hardballs at me? Again, I can envision Mom saying, “Now Judy, you know I brought you up to have faith in God and yourself. At the age of 61, I have had her more than half my life so I should be thanking God for letting her live a long life and for giving her to me. My logical mind says I know it is coming but my heart says No, Mom don’t leave me.
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