As 2010 draws to a close, I decided to check in on the blog and my emails that come through this address. It’s been a while since I posted. So much has been happening and so little at the same time. Our landscape business has been good and then not good. Winter is usually challenging but we are holding on. When I am trying to keep a positive attitude, I don’t write as much, well not the kinds of things I write here but as I checked in, I found some really good messages from a certain writer I know – me! I reminded myself what I need to do when things are getting a bit too challenging.
For instance, I am going through some grief again. At this point I do not know if my closest friend is still with us. The last time I talked to her brother, they were taking it one day at a time. She has been fighting the fight against both breast cancer and bone cancer. After several different round of treatments she had decided to stop. I was away in Santa Fe for a week with my son and his girlfriend. I had called and spoken with her son once and her brother another time. Then I just didn’t want to know if the news was not good. And another matter that I wanted to avoid was happening too.
Thirteen and a half years ago, the family went to Kansas. We had Autumn who had 4 kittens and her feral mother, Monique mostly living on our front porch. We had a friend who was coming by to feed the cats and dogs and check on them. They were happier staying at home. Besides, no one could touch Monique and she was only inside with Autumn to protect and help with her kittens. Monique was a strange little cat. It felt like she had been tame at some point but abused severely. She couldn’t meow and as long as we didn’t try to touch her, she seemed okay closed inside the porch.
Monique looked like a British Short Hair variety – black, average body, with short legs and pointed feet. The day after we left for our trip, Monique had 4 kittens herself but the person taking care of her had no idea. She had them well hidden under the porch and not being able to get close to her, he didn’t realize that her body shape had changed from a little round tummy to a flat tummy.
Monique had been having two litters of kittens a year under our house. The first litter never appeared. When she would finally appear after the second litter, she would only have one kitten. The last was Autumn. Autumn was feral at first but it turned out her daddy was a Maine Coon and they just aren’t wild. We eventually got Autumn to let us handle her and then she went into heat and had 4 orange male kittens. The sire of her kittens was there. He was wild too and was waiting to kill the male kittens. Monique seemed to have had it happen before and she stayed right there ready to fight him if he came too close. When we boxed up Autumn and the newly born kittens to move her inside, Monique got in the box too. And that is how we got her to move inside, not knowing that she was pregnant too.
Her four kittens all looked like Siamese cats. We had noticed when she was in season that she liked to wait for this big Tom that looked Siamese. We called him Big Daddy. He wasn’t full blood because he had a very square looking head – not a true Siamese. But his colors and her body shape made for 4 apple headed kittens with seal points. Only one was male and he had some longer hair. Sadly, the long hair attracted fleas terribly and under the porch was not a very good environment. He began to fail. She didn’t know how to help him and she stopped nursing him. The 3 females were getting weaker too. I tried to help him. He was a fighter but he just couldn’t make it. Then the second one went. She was a beautiful one with huge eyes and more of a lilac point. A lady came along and wanted to try to save the largest one. It wasn’t a good idea but I wasn’t having any luck. I took the last one to the vet. He said she had flea anemia but if I could keep her alive for 48 hours, she would make it.
I kept her in a tiny shoebox by my face in the bed. I combed off the fleas as much as possible. I used an eyedropper and fed her formula with Super Blue Green algae and an egg in it. I would take her out to Monique but the mother wouldn’t try to nurse her for a while. She and Autumn would wash and massage her down and I would take her back inside and give her a couple of drops every hour or two. After a few hours and staying up all night – I felt like I did when my children were keeping me up all night – her tongue began to get some color in it again. Once she made it through the crisis, her mom began to nurse her again.
We could assume that what had been happening with Monique each year was that as a wild cat she had to leave her kittens to find food. Either the tomcats or other predators, like under the house rats, were getting her kittens. She would immediately go into heat again having the second litter in June each year. The fleas under the house in the dirt from the wild critters were getting her second litter. She would manage to save one. The one we helped her save became Precious. Precious was my baby and she considered me her mother. I had decided if I could catch Monique, I would get her spayed and after recovery let her continue to live under my house as a feral – but spayed – cat. Precious was going to be 8 weeks old on Monday. The flea anemia had slowed her growth but she was eating solid food. On Friday morning I went out to the porch to greet the cats as I always did and found Monique had died. I didn’t know why. “Doug, Monique is dead!” A strange little cat that was very intelligent had come and given us Autumn and Precious (and Chang, our other cat) and then she was gone.
Precious was a very sweet cat. She was a little slow. We attributed it to the lack of oxygen to her brain when she was little. She had tiny short legs like her mother and a small head but she got fat even before she was spayed. After the operation, she got even fatter. She was shaped like a basketball with legs. For many years she was good friends with Scully, another cat who decided to come live with us. We didn’t get Scully and Precious spayed for a long time finding out that if you don’t let them breed, they can get very sick. So when we had to spay Scully in an emergency we decided that we should take care of Precious too. The vet came back and said that Precious had some tumors and she wanted to send some tissues of to be tested. That would be another $60. I said, “No, if Precious gets worse, I will put her down. I won’t put her through expensive cancer treatment that may or may not work. Precious seems to be fine for now and we will take it one day at a time.”
After their surgeries, Scully wouldn’t have anything to do with the other cats. She was content being alone. Precious always needed to be close to another animal. She was tolerated by Chang who lived separately in the back of the house and sometimes she would spend time with him. We had and have a white dove. Precious seemed to think that bird was hers. After a few years we began to let Chang go outside. Precious would want to go and would follow him around doing what he did. In 2008, Chang stopped eating and then stopped drinking water. The vets don’t really know what causes this ailment and can only treated it with cortisone shots, steroids. After a while they don’t work anymore and the cats just waste away. I call it the wasting disease. Chang died on Memorial Day. Precious then decided to attach to out current dog, Sukie. Precious did not know she was a cat, did not know she wasn’t human, and certainly did not know that there was a difference in cats and dogs. Sukie is a sweetheart. They became close friends.
A few weeks ago 13 year old and 5 months Precious seemed to have had a stroke. I had a dog that had a stroke at 16 years old. He had one in the morning and by night had the second and died in my arms. I expected Precious would have another within 24 hours but she didn’t. In fact, she seemed to recover. She gradually got to where she could walk again, even jump and get in a chair (though getting down she kind of fell on her face), and was walking and running normally. She was eating somewhat normally and drinking water. Getting in and out of the litter box was a little difficult. Soon she began to get litter clumped up on her feet. I figured out that she was urinating on her feet or down her legs.
We had planned our trip to Santa Fe for Christmas. Precious began to show the symptoms of the wasting disease. I knew the vets were expensive and could only offer a cortisone shot. But I couldn’t cancel the trip. We had our friend Buzz to stay at the house but when we left I was very concerned that Precious was not going to be here when we returned. On Monday, Dec 27, Buzz called. She seemed to have had another stroke and was not able to walk on Sunday. When he got up, our sweet little precious Precious had left us. I had to come home to her not being here ever again.
I believe she lives on but her physical presence is missed. Sukie keeps looking for her like she did when Chang died. The other cats are trying but they just aren’t my baby girl Precious. She was a cute cat and 100% unconditional love. So here I honor and praise what she gave us. I love you Precious. I am sorry I could not fix the problem. Please forgive me. Thank you for all the love and joy you gave us and for just being you. Rest in Peace my little one. We miss your presence though I know you are wondering around here wanting me to pick you up. It’s a new relationship and eventually you will find you must go someplace else. You will always be welcome here though if you want to drop in from time to time.
Showing posts with label family stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family stories. Show all posts
Friday, December 31, 2010
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Remembering Thanksgiving – Old AND NEW Traditions
I was home alone for Thanksgiving this year. I sat down at the piano, played the favorite hymns of Daddy, Mother, and Doug, and I cried. I remembered Thanksgiving always at Grandmother’s house and someone always had to go get Mrs. Idy. The women cooked all morning (and several days before) and then collapsed after the meal. The children had to lie down and got spankings if we weren’t quiet. When we finally got old enough to be outside unattended, we were allowed to get up and go out to play, weather permitting, after an hour of lying down.
The food sat out on the table mostly uncovered except the Jell-O salads and maybe the desserts. It’s a wonder we didn’t get food poisoning. Later we came back and picked around at the food. Sometimes we all had to sit down together for supper. After an unwritten length of time, we would pack up and go home – five miles away. It wasn’t like they had anything new to talk about. They saw each other several times a week.
There weren’t any toys so we grandkids had to make up games. I don’t remember any time that was particularly fun – mostly bickering that would evolve into fights. Then the adults would have to come separate us and give someone or all whippings.
Grandmother was diabetic in her later years. Dr. Waters knew she would “just a little taste” herself into too much and so he always upped her insulin for the holidays. There would be turkey with dressing, canned cranberry sauce and whole berry made from scratch, corn bread and biscuits, a ham and candied sweet potatoes and some orange pecan sweet potatoes. There would be some mostly iceberg lettuce with Thousand Island dressing. Sometimes there would be cold slaw, sauerkraut, and boiled cabbage. No, greens were not a popular fall thing in Oklahoma. There would be green beans, green bean casserole, and corn from the garden both on the cob and creamed corn. There was always a plate of home canned pickles, usually several varieties. There were usually some navy beans and baked beans (like we needed more gas) and certainly some sort of squash something. There may have been some noodle or rice casseroles. Biscuits and cornbread weren’t enough bread. They would add brown and server rolls and white bread. There were mashed potatoes, new potatoes, and canned peas. There sometimes was pea salad, carrot salad, and grape/cranberry salad. The Jell-O salads changed from year to year but someone always made orange Jell-O carrot salad that no one every ate or liked.
Then came the desserts. I remember Mother making an apple pecan cake every year. The banana nut cake got replace with a Scotch chocolate cake with pecan sugary icing. That was replaced with an Italian cocoanut pecan cream cake with cream cheese icing with pecans and cocoanut. Aunt Margie would make a cocoanut cake or chocolate cake or strawberry cake too. Mother wasn’t very good a piecrust but that didn’t stop her from making pies. When frozen crust became available at the stores that made it even easier. She made lemon meringue, chocolate, a really good cocoanut cream, banana cream, and one called Jefferson Davis chess pie. Sometimes she made pecan and pumpkin pies too. There were frequently chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies. Aunt Margie brought many of the same kinds. There was ice cream and whip cream (later cool whip).
One year Grandmother decided to make a pie. The sisters said she made them every year but had stopped when the diabetes came on. It was a butter chess pie – butter, eggs, and sugar. It was decadent – and really good. Mother and Daddy had to hand churn butter when they were growing up. They grew to hate the tasted and smell of butter immensely. They didn’t care for the taste of the butter pie so Grandmother never made it again. I was disappointed but it wasn’t like there wasn’t anything good to replace it.
All you can eat buffets have nothing on a Southern Oklahoma Thanksgiving dinner that shows influence of the tribal potlash ceremonies. There was this Italian Yankee at O.U. who tried to claim his Italian family gathering had an unbeatable spread, but he hadn’t been to one of my family’s holiday dinners. The “potlash” ceremony among farming tribes was a “being” by itself. They were such abundant holiday traditions.
So this year Doug was down in Florida with his family. Azure, Kyler, and Miko have moved away and so has Jeremy. I was going to be alone. Azure sent friends. The first came with a plate of food and the second brought a card and arrived while the first was still here. They left and a while later all of Jeremy’s siblings and girlfriends and cousins came bringing me some of Big Mamas Southern Soul Thanksgiving cooking. As they left another young man arrived. I gave him some pie and found out later that he had stayed home and not had any Thanksgiving dinner. I had a smoked breast and some cranberry sauce and the plate from Jeremy’s grandmother had enough for several meals that I could have shared had I known. I had a wonderful day. I didn’t have to cook but I still had a full dishwasher. I was pleasantly full and tired but so happy.
Thanksgiving memories and traditions – sometimes don’t change, but kids grow up, grandparents and parents pass away. The kids grow up and move away following their own life journey. Sometimes couples have to be apart. It’s sad when you spend Thanksgiving thinking about what was. It is more fun to make new traditions. I didn’t cook for days. I received some Thanksgiving dinner from other families without having too much leftover food along with dirty dishes, pots, and pans. I had a wonderful day. And next year? Well, we will see. It will be filled with some more New Traditions!
The food sat out on the table mostly uncovered except the Jell-O salads and maybe the desserts. It’s a wonder we didn’t get food poisoning. Later we came back and picked around at the food. Sometimes we all had to sit down together for supper. After an unwritten length of time, we would pack up and go home – five miles away. It wasn’t like they had anything new to talk about. They saw each other several times a week.
There weren’t any toys so we grandkids had to make up games. I don’t remember any time that was particularly fun – mostly bickering that would evolve into fights. Then the adults would have to come separate us and give someone or all whippings.
Grandmother was diabetic in her later years. Dr. Waters knew she would “just a little taste” herself into too much and so he always upped her insulin for the holidays. There would be turkey with dressing, canned cranberry sauce and whole berry made from scratch, corn bread and biscuits, a ham and candied sweet potatoes and some orange pecan sweet potatoes. There would be some mostly iceberg lettuce with Thousand Island dressing. Sometimes there would be cold slaw, sauerkraut, and boiled cabbage. No, greens were not a popular fall thing in Oklahoma. There would be green beans, green bean casserole, and corn from the garden both on the cob and creamed corn. There was always a plate of home canned pickles, usually several varieties. There were usually some navy beans and baked beans (like we needed more gas) and certainly some sort of squash something. There may have been some noodle or rice casseroles. Biscuits and cornbread weren’t enough bread. They would add brown and server rolls and white bread. There were mashed potatoes, new potatoes, and canned peas. There sometimes was pea salad, carrot salad, and grape/cranberry salad. The Jell-O salads changed from year to year but someone always made orange Jell-O carrot salad that no one every ate or liked.
Then came the desserts. I remember Mother making an apple pecan cake every year. The banana nut cake got replace with a Scotch chocolate cake with pecan sugary icing. That was replaced with an Italian cocoanut pecan cream cake with cream cheese icing with pecans and cocoanut. Aunt Margie would make a cocoanut cake or chocolate cake or strawberry cake too. Mother wasn’t very good a piecrust but that didn’t stop her from making pies. When frozen crust became available at the stores that made it even easier. She made lemon meringue, chocolate, a really good cocoanut cream, banana cream, and one called Jefferson Davis chess pie. Sometimes she made pecan and pumpkin pies too. There were frequently chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies. Aunt Margie brought many of the same kinds. There was ice cream and whip cream (later cool whip).
One year Grandmother decided to make a pie. The sisters said she made them every year but had stopped when the diabetes came on. It was a butter chess pie – butter, eggs, and sugar. It was decadent – and really good. Mother and Daddy had to hand churn butter when they were growing up. They grew to hate the tasted and smell of butter immensely. They didn’t care for the taste of the butter pie so Grandmother never made it again. I was disappointed but it wasn’t like there wasn’t anything good to replace it.
All you can eat buffets have nothing on a Southern Oklahoma Thanksgiving dinner that shows influence of the tribal potlash ceremonies. There was this Italian Yankee at O.U. who tried to claim his Italian family gathering had an unbeatable spread, but he hadn’t been to one of my family’s holiday dinners. The “potlash” ceremony among farming tribes was a “being” by itself. They were such abundant holiday traditions.
So this year Doug was down in Florida with his family. Azure, Kyler, and Miko have moved away and so has Jeremy. I was going to be alone. Azure sent friends. The first came with a plate of food and the second brought a card and arrived while the first was still here. They left and a while later all of Jeremy’s siblings and girlfriends and cousins came bringing me some of Big Mamas Southern Soul Thanksgiving cooking. As they left another young man arrived. I gave him some pie and found out later that he had stayed home and not had any Thanksgiving dinner. I had a smoked breast and some cranberry sauce and the plate from Jeremy’s grandmother had enough for several meals that I could have shared had I known. I had a wonderful day. I didn’t have to cook but I still had a full dishwasher. I was pleasantly full and tired but so happy.
Thanksgiving memories and traditions – sometimes don’t change, but kids grow up, grandparents and parents pass away. The kids grow up and move away following their own life journey. Sometimes couples have to be apart. It’s sad when you spend Thanksgiving thinking about what was. It is more fun to make new traditions. I didn’t cook for days. I received some Thanksgiving dinner from other families without having too much leftover food along with dirty dishes, pots, and pans. I had a wonderful day. And next year? Well, we will see. It will be filled with some more New Traditions!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Grandma Eva - memories
Grandma Eva's birthday was July 3, 1903. She made her transitions in 2003, five months before her 100th birthday. She is on my mind this week and I included some little fond memories today.
Grandma Eva – memories of a special little German Irish lady
by Katherine Ari July 8, 2009
Grandma Eva was at her tallest 5’ tall. When she was 88, she had a heart attack. She lived with Grandpa Roy who was 90 in their home in Vermillion, Kansas, a town of 120 as posted on the road sign. Only about 50 of those actually lived in the town. So a medical helicopter airlifted her to the nearest hospital in Onega, KS. When she was put on the chopper, she had some new Nike’s with her. They transported her on to the hospital where they did quadruple bypass surgery on her heart. None of us had high expectations for the prognosis. She was after all 88 years old and had a gray color to her skin for many years because of the heart problems.
Grandma Eva made it through the surgery with flying colors. Her skin lost the gray color and she was out walking three miles a day after she returned home. But evidently someone in the helicopter also didn’t expect an 88-year-old woman to make it, because when she woke up, she didn’t have her new Nike’s. They weren’t with her personal things. The medic service was called and no one would own up to taking the shoes. Every time she had to return to the hospital, the doctor would ask her “Did you ever find your shoes, Eva?” “No,” she would answer. “I’m still looking for them.”
- Eva loved to garden and she loved to cook. Even when she was 92 or 93, she would insist that we come over to her house for dinner. We always tried to dissuade her by taking her out to eat, but we had to let her “feed” us at least once. The meal was always friend chicken, German scalloped potatoes or mashed potatoes, cold slaw, and a mid-west standard in Kansas as well as Oklahoma, some sort of Jell-O salad.
My mother was a great Fried Chicken maker, but though I am a pretty good cook, it isn’t one of my strong points. So Doug volunteered to help her in the kitchen. He got to the stove and started working with the chicken in the skillet. “Oh no, you don’t have the chicken fork. You can’t fry chicken without the right fork,” she quickly corrected him. She pulled out this very sharp table fork and handed it to Doug. The fork had been her Great-Grandmother’s fork and everyone had used it for frying chicken. Chicken just wouldn’t be right if you didn’t fry it with that 200 yr. old fork.
- Eva had known we were coming. Our children were her only great-grand children. On a good day, she had baked cookies – 2 different flavors and put them up in the freezer. She had oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip with black walnuts and pecans. She didn’t give them to us until we were leaving heading back home to Georgia. She said they were for the trip home. Well, let me tell you that they didn’t make it very far. She put so much love into everything she cooked. I don’t know what else she did, but those chocolate chip cookies were the best tasting chocolate chip cookies we ever tasted. They tasted like a Snicker’s bar but they were homemade cookies. It would have been nice to get the recipe, but there was something more in her batter that couldn’t be put on a card. It was a little thing. I don’t think there were more than two or three cookies for each of us, but what a dear memory – so special.
- In Kansas, the farmers are so spread out that the towns are all very small and far apart. They have a good home health care organization for elderly people to travel to the towns. The nurses and helpers take them home meals, provide nursing care, take them to the beauty shop, and take them to doctors and to the dentist. There are sometimes 3 or 4 different caretakers that come by daily. Her main caregiver was a woman about the same age as Doug and I. She told us about some of the things Eva would pull on her. One of the caregivers had come all the way out to Vermillion for an appointment for Eva. Eva left a note on the door that she had gone to the dentist. She was home. She just didn’t want to be bothered. And she pulled that on another one a day or so later. Our friend found out about it and had to get on her about it. “If you pull that stuff again, I’ll put you back in the nursing home in Centralia. Don’t you be putting notes on the door that you have gone to an appointment when you are home!”
But when Eva did have to move to the nursing home, she did the same kinds of things. “Grandma Eva, why don’t you go out in the sitting room and watch TV or visit with the other people?”
“I don’t like to be around those OLD people,” she would answer. She was 98.
“Grandma, the nurses told us you are supposed to go see the doctor today.”
“I’ve been trying to get away from him all day.” She would say as she dodged his office.
- In Kansas around that area, there are white people of German and Swedish decent. There weren’t any other nationalities around when Doug was growing up so he never heard anyone making derogatory comments. When Eva was in the nursing home, she got to watching TV soaps. Doug was quite surprised when she would start complaining about African-Americans and White mixing on the shows. She was always such a loving and sweet person; he just didn’t know she was so “opinionated” about the races mixing.
He gave me a look and then said, “You know Grandma, Kathy has Choctaw and Cherokee blood in her.”
She got this sweet little look on her face and said, “Oh, that’s nice.” And she didn’t say anything else about the races she didn’t like on TV. It was just her generation and the society she lived in.
- As I said, Grandma Eva loved to garden. She always had flowers and fruits and vegetables in her yard. They also had black walnuts trees. Grandpa Roy would sit out in the backyard picking them out for hours. He was a tall man and had a pretty hard time getting around in his 90’s. One day he had been out there shelling walnuts while sitting on a bucket. When he decided he had shelled them as long as he wanted, he tried to get up. He couldn’t get up. He called Eva to come help, but as I said earlier, Eva was a small woman. She couldn’t get him up either.
She went to the basement and got a rope and tied it around his waist and the other end to the car. She was going to pull him up by driving the car with him tied to it. Luckily, a neighbor saw what they were doing before she took off. After that Doug’s dad took the car keys and car away from both of them. – and not too soon after that, put a padlock on the door to the basement.
- Roy died when he was 96. He was in a special section of the nursing home and she was in another area. They had several times over the years gone to the home on their own, stayed a while until they felt stronger, and then checked themselves out again to return to their own home. So when Roy died, she went back home again. We were there visiting and at that time my father-in-law was living with his girlfriend in another town called Olmsberg, Kansas. It was about a 40-minute drive away.
We were there for our usual family visit and we had been invited to Dale and Betty’s house for the day. We picked Eva up and drove over. While we were there, it started raining really hard and rained that way for about 5 hours.
It is very flat in Kansas and when it rains that hard for that long, the creeks and rivers quickly overflow. Then the roads are flooded and you have to take alternate routes to get around in the spread out farm country. When it was time to go home, we couldn’t go back the way we had come that was on a small two-lane county road.
We had to go further north and take US Highway 36 from the Marysville turn back toward Seneca and then angle around to Vermillion. There is a road that they call the Axel Road that goes straight off US Hwy 36 to County Hwy 88 to Vermillion, but with the rising rivers and flooded other roads, Doug felt that the Axel road would also be flooded out. We were driving back on US Hwy 36. We would drive a little ways and Eva would say, “Now when you get to the Axel road, that is where you turn.”
Doug would answer, “I know about the Axel Rd., Grandma, but we are going on around tonight because of the flood. I expect it will be flooded out too.” She would say okay.
Three or five minutes later, she would say, “Now when you get to the Axel Road, you turn there.” Patiently Doug would answer the same way. Five minutes later, she would say it again. Doug kept his cool and patiently kept answering her the same way. She must have said it 12 times. I was in the back with the kids and we just looked at each other, rolled our eyes, and smiled. Doug just kept answering her the same way. It wasn’t an argument. She just kept saying the same thing like a broken record. He just thought it was because she was old and being forgetful or something related to her 95 years of age.
Then we got almost to the Axel road. Again she said, “The Axel Road is where you turn. They fixed the bridge a few years ago. It is high enough now that the water won’t be over the bridge.” Doug was thinking, “Yes, I know the bridge is higher but if the water is out of the banks, it may still be over the road before or after the bridge.”
But then he thought, “She just keeps insisting. Maybe she knows something I don’t know. If we go down the road and it is under water, we can just turn around. Then maybe she will listen to me.” So he said, “Okay Grandma, we’ll go on the Axel Road.”
We did. There was no problem. “Could it be that being so old and close to the other side that she had a sixth sense about those things?” We wondered. She wouldn’t stop saying it and she was right.
- Grandma was in Onega again in the hospital when she was around 98. We would drive over there every day to be with her. The drive on the country roads was 30 or 40 minutes. Grandma Eva had adult onset diabetes. Doug’s dad has diabetes. My mother and grandmother had diabetes. Doug and I woke up that morning and both of us were thinking about diabetes. We were talking about it while we were in Vermillion. When we arrived at the hospital 45 minutes later, Eva was napping as usual. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and grabbed Doug’s arm. With intensity she looked at him in the eyes and said, “That diabetes is a horrible, mean disease. You better take care of yourself and your family. You don’t want to have to deal with diabetes!” Then she relaxed and went back to sleep. “Woo – woo!” That is what we call a woo - woo; again she was close to the other side and just had a sixth sense that only a 98 year old would have.
- Eva was sweet and generous. She was patient, a good cook, and a good gardener. Every caretaker that she had ever had called her everyday at the nursing home or the hospital. She never said a cross word to anyone even when Roy was being his meanest. Yes, she made her comments about things she saw on TV or about the doctors she wanted to avoid, but at 98, she would get up daily to take care of her roommate who was 101. Doug grew up on Grandma Eva’s fried chicken and homemade pies. We all always felt her love. When she was 99, the family gave her 99 plus one to grow on long stem red roses. “We’ll give you another 100 on your 100th birthday,” a family member said.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be here for 100,” she said. She was right again.
Grandma Eva – memories of a special little German Irish lady
by Katherine Ari July 8, 2009
Grandma Eva was at her tallest 5’ tall. When she was 88, she had a heart attack. She lived with Grandpa Roy who was 90 in their home in Vermillion, Kansas, a town of 120 as posted on the road sign. Only about 50 of those actually lived in the town. So a medical helicopter airlifted her to the nearest hospital in Onega, KS. When she was put on the chopper, she had some new Nike’s with her. They transported her on to the hospital where they did quadruple bypass surgery on her heart. None of us had high expectations for the prognosis. She was after all 88 years old and had a gray color to her skin for many years because of the heart problems.
Grandma Eva made it through the surgery with flying colors. Her skin lost the gray color and she was out walking three miles a day after she returned home. But evidently someone in the helicopter also didn’t expect an 88-year-old woman to make it, because when she woke up, she didn’t have her new Nike’s. They weren’t with her personal things. The medic service was called and no one would own up to taking the shoes. Every time she had to return to the hospital, the doctor would ask her “Did you ever find your shoes, Eva?” “No,” she would answer. “I’m still looking for them.”
- Eva loved to garden and she loved to cook. Even when she was 92 or 93, she would insist that we come over to her house for dinner. We always tried to dissuade her by taking her out to eat, but we had to let her “feed” us at least once. The meal was always friend chicken, German scalloped potatoes or mashed potatoes, cold slaw, and a mid-west standard in Kansas as well as Oklahoma, some sort of Jell-O salad.
My mother was a great Fried Chicken maker, but though I am a pretty good cook, it isn’t one of my strong points. So Doug volunteered to help her in the kitchen. He got to the stove and started working with the chicken in the skillet. “Oh no, you don’t have the chicken fork. You can’t fry chicken without the right fork,” she quickly corrected him. She pulled out this very sharp table fork and handed it to Doug. The fork had been her Great-Grandmother’s fork and everyone had used it for frying chicken. Chicken just wouldn’t be right if you didn’t fry it with that 200 yr. old fork.
- Eva had known we were coming. Our children were her only great-grand children. On a good day, she had baked cookies – 2 different flavors and put them up in the freezer. She had oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip with black walnuts and pecans. She didn’t give them to us until we were leaving heading back home to Georgia. She said they were for the trip home. Well, let me tell you that they didn’t make it very far. She put so much love into everything she cooked. I don’t know what else she did, but those chocolate chip cookies were the best tasting chocolate chip cookies we ever tasted. They tasted like a Snicker’s bar but they were homemade cookies. It would have been nice to get the recipe, but there was something more in her batter that couldn’t be put on a card. It was a little thing. I don’t think there were more than two or three cookies for each of us, but what a dear memory – so special.
- In Kansas, the farmers are so spread out that the towns are all very small and far apart. They have a good home health care organization for elderly people to travel to the towns. The nurses and helpers take them home meals, provide nursing care, take them to the beauty shop, and take them to doctors and to the dentist. There are sometimes 3 or 4 different caretakers that come by daily. Her main caregiver was a woman about the same age as Doug and I. She told us about some of the things Eva would pull on her. One of the caregivers had come all the way out to Vermillion for an appointment for Eva. Eva left a note on the door that she had gone to the dentist. She was home. She just didn’t want to be bothered. And she pulled that on another one a day or so later. Our friend found out about it and had to get on her about it. “If you pull that stuff again, I’ll put you back in the nursing home in Centralia. Don’t you be putting notes on the door that you have gone to an appointment when you are home!”
But when Eva did have to move to the nursing home, she did the same kinds of things. “Grandma Eva, why don’t you go out in the sitting room and watch TV or visit with the other people?”
“I don’t like to be around those OLD people,” she would answer. She was 98.
“Grandma, the nurses told us you are supposed to go see the doctor today.”
“I’ve been trying to get away from him all day.” She would say as she dodged his office.
- In Kansas around that area, there are white people of German and Swedish decent. There weren’t any other nationalities around when Doug was growing up so he never heard anyone making derogatory comments. When Eva was in the nursing home, she got to watching TV soaps. Doug was quite surprised when she would start complaining about African-Americans and White mixing on the shows. She was always such a loving and sweet person; he just didn’t know she was so “opinionated” about the races mixing.
He gave me a look and then said, “You know Grandma, Kathy has Choctaw and Cherokee blood in her.”
She got this sweet little look on her face and said, “Oh, that’s nice.” And she didn’t say anything else about the races she didn’t like on TV. It was just her generation and the society she lived in.
- As I said, Grandma Eva loved to garden. She always had flowers and fruits and vegetables in her yard. They also had black walnuts trees. Grandpa Roy would sit out in the backyard picking them out for hours. He was a tall man and had a pretty hard time getting around in his 90’s. One day he had been out there shelling walnuts while sitting on a bucket. When he decided he had shelled them as long as he wanted, he tried to get up. He couldn’t get up. He called Eva to come help, but as I said earlier, Eva was a small woman. She couldn’t get him up either.
She went to the basement and got a rope and tied it around his waist and the other end to the car. She was going to pull him up by driving the car with him tied to it. Luckily, a neighbor saw what they were doing before she took off. After that Doug’s dad took the car keys and car away from both of them. – and not too soon after that, put a padlock on the door to the basement.
- Roy died when he was 96. He was in a special section of the nursing home and she was in another area. They had several times over the years gone to the home on their own, stayed a while until they felt stronger, and then checked themselves out again to return to their own home. So when Roy died, she went back home again. We were there visiting and at that time my father-in-law was living with his girlfriend in another town called Olmsberg, Kansas. It was about a 40-minute drive away.
We were there for our usual family visit and we had been invited to Dale and Betty’s house for the day. We picked Eva up and drove over. While we were there, it started raining really hard and rained that way for about 5 hours.
It is very flat in Kansas and when it rains that hard for that long, the creeks and rivers quickly overflow. Then the roads are flooded and you have to take alternate routes to get around in the spread out farm country. When it was time to go home, we couldn’t go back the way we had come that was on a small two-lane county road.
We had to go further north and take US Highway 36 from the Marysville turn back toward Seneca and then angle around to Vermillion. There is a road that they call the Axel Road that goes straight off US Hwy 36 to County Hwy 88 to Vermillion, but with the rising rivers and flooded other roads, Doug felt that the Axel road would also be flooded out. We were driving back on US Hwy 36. We would drive a little ways and Eva would say, “Now when you get to the Axel road, that is where you turn.”
Doug would answer, “I know about the Axel Rd., Grandma, but we are going on around tonight because of the flood. I expect it will be flooded out too.” She would say okay.
Three or five minutes later, she would say, “Now when you get to the Axel Road, you turn there.” Patiently Doug would answer the same way. Five minutes later, she would say it again. Doug kept his cool and patiently kept answering her the same way. She must have said it 12 times. I was in the back with the kids and we just looked at each other, rolled our eyes, and smiled. Doug just kept answering her the same way. It wasn’t an argument. She just kept saying the same thing like a broken record. He just thought it was because she was old and being forgetful or something related to her 95 years of age.
Then we got almost to the Axel road. Again she said, “The Axel Road is where you turn. They fixed the bridge a few years ago. It is high enough now that the water won’t be over the bridge.” Doug was thinking, “Yes, I know the bridge is higher but if the water is out of the banks, it may still be over the road before or after the bridge.”
But then he thought, “She just keeps insisting. Maybe she knows something I don’t know. If we go down the road and it is under water, we can just turn around. Then maybe she will listen to me.” So he said, “Okay Grandma, we’ll go on the Axel Road.”
We did. There was no problem. “Could it be that being so old and close to the other side that she had a sixth sense about those things?” We wondered. She wouldn’t stop saying it and she was right.
- Grandma was in Onega again in the hospital when she was around 98. We would drive over there every day to be with her. The drive on the country roads was 30 or 40 minutes. Grandma Eva had adult onset diabetes. Doug’s dad has diabetes. My mother and grandmother had diabetes. Doug and I woke up that morning and both of us were thinking about diabetes. We were talking about it while we were in Vermillion. When we arrived at the hospital 45 minutes later, Eva was napping as usual. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and grabbed Doug’s arm. With intensity she looked at him in the eyes and said, “That diabetes is a horrible, mean disease. You better take care of yourself and your family. You don’t want to have to deal with diabetes!” Then she relaxed and went back to sleep. “Woo – woo!” That is what we call a woo - woo; again she was close to the other side and just had a sixth sense that only a 98 year old would have.
- Eva was sweet and generous. She was patient, a good cook, and a good gardener. Every caretaker that she had ever had called her everyday at the nursing home or the hospital. She never said a cross word to anyone even when Roy was being his meanest. Yes, she made her comments about things she saw on TV or about the doctors she wanted to avoid, but at 98, she would get up daily to take care of her roommate who was 101. Doug grew up on Grandma Eva’s fried chicken and homemade pies. We all always felt her love. When she was 99, the family gave her 99 plus one to grow on long stem red roses. “We’ll give you another 100 on your 100th birthday,” a family member said.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be here for 100,” she said. She was right again.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Saying Goodbye - watch what you say
A few years ago, I was in class at my Spiritual Center. The teacher announced that a woman most of us knew had made her transition. If we didn’t know her, we knew her granddaughter, another minister that had spoken at our center. The woman minister’s daughter is a friend of ours as well as a customer. I hadn’t heard of her Great-Grandmother’s passing. We took a break and I called her while I was in the bathroom.
She said, “You know how when people are anticipating a family member making their transition that the family sometimes tells the person it is okay to go?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Well we were all standing around Granny who was 102. We said to her that if she was ready to go, it was okay. We were ready if she was ready.
Well, you know what happened? She did!– as soon as we said that she left, that very second. We said, Wait a minute! We didn’t mean right this minute! But she took our word for it and left and didn’t come back. We were all pumped up trying to say the right metaphysical things, but we never expected her to go right then. When it came down to the truth we really weren’t ready. We were sad but we laughed at ourselves for not realizing that she would do it.”
I asked her for permissions to tell my class about how it all happened and she said yes. We all had some good smiles.
I tried that one time. The results were surprising.
My husband’s grandfather lived to the age of 96. His grand mother was two years younger. Grandpa Roy was always a rather cantankerous old man. As he grew older he got meaner and harsher – until Alzheimer’s took over in the last few years. When Grandma Eva was about 94 or 95 after Roy died, she took a bad spell. She was confined to her bed and was staying with her younger son, Doug’s Uncle Dwayne, in Florida. We were in Florida visiting other relatives and went by to see her on our way back to Georgia.
She mostly slept and her bed was placed in front of a bay window in the living room where she could watch the bird feeder and the squirrels in the front yard. At that age we didn’t hold on to any expectations of a miracle recovery. I sat in the room with her while she rested. I thought I had it all figured out. I would go into a meditation and let her know that it was okay if she was ready to go on, just have a little spirit chat.
I closed my eyes and settled myself into a nice peaceful state of mind. I imagined talking to Eva. “Grandma Eva, we want you to know that if this is the time for you to leave us that it is okay. We love you very much but we don’t want you to have to suffer. The family won’t hold you here if it is time for you to go. And Roy is waiting for you. Do you see him there?”
In my meditation and images in my mind she turned toward me and said,
“No, I had to put up with that man for 72 years and I am not ready to be with him again. I don’t want to go to him!” I thought, Oh, I guess that was the wrong thing to suggest. And I kind of suddenly came out of my meditation.
Now the reader might think that was just my imagination and projecting my own feelings about having to live with someone like Roy. Maybe I just had too much creative imagination.
But the things is that Eva, age 94½, did start getting better. She had a dream after our visit that Uncle Dwayne told us about. She was dreaming she was on a platform at the train station. The train came but she decided after it stopped not to get on. She opened her eyes and got up and went into her son’s bedroom. He woke up and found her sitting on the side of his bed. “Why didn’t I get on the train that was leaving?” She asked him. Grandma Eva felt better and went back to Kansas. She lived in her own house until she was over 97 and died when she was 99 and 7 months.
I suppose the final message of this little story is if you are in that situation where you feel you need to tell your loved one that it is “okay” to move on to the next world or dimension, be very careful what you say and what you mean and mean what you say. Don’t be surprised if the reaction isn’t exactly what you expect.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
