Exhale...

The boy is home, and quite honestly, that's all that matters. His flight got delayed in Charlotte with the storms that rattled through, but after spending the night in the airport (which, after being in barracks for over four months), proved to not be a big deal.... he got here yesterday at 8:30am.

And the sweetest thing happened on his flight. One of the flight attendents walked back to his seat and offered him an empty seat in First Class.  He was decked out in his dress blues (from the graduation ceremony which we were unable to attend), so was obviously military, but he was embarrassed a bit, but honored to accept.

Glad he's home. He's out and about now, relieved to be out from under the sergeant's watchful eye. And for the first time in four months, I don't have a nagging feeling about him.

You should see the boys' bedroom though. Joseph has so many clothes....in varying shades of beige, and when he opened his huge cases, they exploded onto the floor. Camo galore. Wouldn't have it any other way.

Friday afternoon's doings

~and the hair continues to grow

So looking forward to the next few days. Counting the time until Joseph comes home, next Thursday to be exact.  Shivers. Maybe my shoulders will finally relax, do you think?  And with school ended, and the Memorial Day weekend, then cleaning the house for his homecoming, what more could a mom possibly want?   Sounds pretty blissful to me.

Gary and I were sitting on the front porch the other evening and he was saying how tired he was.  I reminded him that he'd been sick the previous week...some virus, I guess, and while that's gone, the fatigue has hung on a bit.  Also, I said we had to recognize how stressful the past year has been.  One of our children had some serious issues, my mom and I weren't getting along, we all had words, Joseph joined the Guard, my mom had her stroke, she's been in lengthy recovery, Joseph's been gone since January, mom's back home alone, and I think Gary and I are both sort of shell-shocked at all that's been going on.  He just doesn't like to allow things to take over---to admit that they affect his physical well-being.  He's tough.  He'll be exhausted, but with his personality, will keep going on and going on, and going on.  Can't do that.  Things hit the fan eventually, and maybe his getting sick was part of that.

Now I'm trying to be kinder to myself, to slow my pace, to allow rest and recovery, and not look at life as a race to finish.  It's harder than you think. To say no when yes is easier said, but has more repercussions.  To put limits on what I allow myself to do in a given day is a plus.  I've talked about this before, but haven't ever seriously applied it.  Talk is cheap.

So, while the younger kids have cleaned my mom's house and cut her backyard, I've been at the library with my laptop.  Different setting and noises, and no children to ask me for help.  Just needed alone time.  Now just need to make it a habit.

Sunday evening

I was reading at an herbal site earlier about the uses for the violet tincture I've made, and the main herbalist there was talking about how stress can land in unexpected places in our bodies. Then that got me to thinking about Joseph coming home next week (insert hallelujahs), and I realized how tense I've been for so long.

It's been tough 'round these parts. For a mom especially, least that's what I'm telling folks. Or rather, what's being told me. When you hear time after time how someone can't understand how I can bear our son being gone to boot camp/extra training, makes me wonder how far into the ground my head's been stuck. Yes, I'm tense. But relief is in view now. Hallelujah squared.

Anyway. Violet tincture is good for heart pangs of the emotional sort. Have taken it several times today.

And am reading a wonderful used book I came on quite by accident, if there is such a thing, at an Indie bookstore the other night. It's by Sue Monk Kidd and is called 'Firstlight'....highly recommend. I've underlined in almost the whole book so far. High praise, huh?

Gonna rest now. Got some more vanilla tea yesterday at the hippie store. Time to chill.

My scattered thoughts...

Rattled today.  It rained all day yesterday, which was so restful, but woke up this morning to very heavy wind.  And as I was hearing the tornado siren, the wind changed and began to sound just plain odd.  It sounded wrong, plus the sky was light green.  Not a good thing to see when a tornado siren is blaring. Found out a bit later that a tornado had been spotted going to the NE, and it's very possible the sound we heard was the edge of that.  Unsettling for sure.  At the time I was unaware of the damage and lives lost in Arkansas to our west.  Too much bad news.

Then Gary's truck wouldn't start, and it turns out his distributor was full of water from the rain.  He fixed it later on.  Also got a call from Joseph and he's been the target of a prank at the Base.  Just nonsense, but it makes me anxious.  Glad he'll be done there at the end of May, but still, that's a few weeks away.  And his birthday is tomorrow (Tuesday) and I've never been separated from my children on their birthdays. Darn it.

Sometimes life is too full of uncertainties, and with daily (or almost daily) strange conversations with my mom, the weather today, plus Joseph's struggles, I'm a bit overdone.

I believe some hand-sewing is in order for tomorrow.  The clouds should have blown away by then, and maybe the day can be peaceful.

Mid-week

Put up a post here about my mom, but just moved it over here.  Hadn't put anything up there in about a week, and had sort of forgotten I had a dedicated spot to chatter about her stroke.

I talked about taking time away from my mom, which is very healing.  I think I'll re-schedule how I manage my visits with her, being that they really take their toll on my mental/physical health.

And, I realized I'd not processed our son's Nat'l Guard life.  With her situation being so mentally exhausting for me, I've not given myself time to think about Joseph, and that's why I've posted photos of the graduation here and on FB. It came to me that it'd been shoved aside when the girls and I recently took dinner to my newly-widowed aunt.  My cousin was there and she asked about Joseph, and she said she didn't know how she'd deal with having a child in the military.  I sat there and thought about what she'd said, finally sinking in that I've held onto a brave face, and likely needed to deal with some stress related to his choice of lifestyle.

And when things make me cry with little effort, figure they need time to be resolved and tended to.

So yesterday the kids and I cleaned up some outside.  I took off one storm window, wiped off the spiderwebs and washed it down, and put it back up.  A small step in tidying my nest.  Didn't have much energy for much more, but it was restoring.  I need to plan more of that.  So necessary and refreshing. While the kids do their Spanish CD in a minute, will scurry around and do a bit. Cleaning can be a pain or therapeutic.  Today it's the latter.

My boy

Just posted this on FB via our son's request. This was Graduation Day last month.  Best hug EVER. And that's Gary patting him on the back.

End of the week...

Overtired last night.  Slept through a very loud (so the kids say) thunderstorm the previous night, so I'm thinking I need to rest more.  When I go to sleep, which is quick and easy, I sleep hard.  I told Gary it's my escape mechanism.  Turn off my brain and experience relief.  A mental retreat.

So.

Went out with oldest daughter this afternoon.  Lunch out, which was her treat.  A trip to Michael's for some notecards for writing Joseph at AIT (advanced individual training) camp. Some Easter pretties just for fun, including a tiny ceramic pig, who's adorable.  There's something so appealing about pigs.

Good to get away and out.  To not focus on my mom, even though we went later on and bought groceries, including some for her, which we took over.

Shoot me now.  Sometimes I feel as if life has played a big joke on me.  It's like someone mixed up our name tags and we're not playing the roles I'm used to.  A son in the Army Nat'l Guard (what's up with being a military mom?) and a mother who's not herself.  I need a do over. ;)

New mantra...keep sense of humor.  Keep sense of humor.  Repeat.

Graduation Day

Lots going on.  First off, Joseph graduated from Basic Training at Ft. Jackson on Thursday, and we attended a sweet ceremony on Family day (the day before) as well.  As soon as we sat on the bleachers for Family Day, I began to cry.  Just the anticipation and relief at actually seeing him.  I looked around and everyone looked either really excited or calm.  I saw a woman and her husband a couple of rows behind and to the side of us and he had his arm around her.  Parents.  And she was biting her lip, obviously trying not to cry.  And all we were doing was sitting there, waiting for the platoons to march out on to the field. Buncha old softies.

You know what the best part of the whole trip was?  As soon as the Family Day festivities were over, we made our way down out of the stands to find him in formation.  Now, we'd been warned online to limit the public displays of affection, being that a brief hug and kiss would do.  That's all.  I heard that all the time. Well, as soon as Joseph saw me he wrapped me in a hug to end all hugs.  Gary got several photos of it.  Lasted forever.  It was bliss.  We were both just sobbing. Finally we broke apart, and nobody fussed at us (no drill sergeant keeping tabs).  'Course not.

The photo of Joseph above is the one he took with his laptop at the apartment we rented on base for the trip. That was an experience in itself.  We could hear from our place the sound of the cannon and trumpets at wake-up, when the flags were raised and lowered and at bed-time.  Amazing.  To stay on base (which they call post) was wonderful, and as Gary said, "Whenever are we every going to have the opportunity to stay on an Army base to sleep?"

Anyway, and on it goes.  He's at Ft. Lee in Virginia for a couple of months, then he'll be home. This spell probably won't be so tortuous.  He does still have his phone, but they can only use them during personal time.  At least we can get ahold of him.  I do like that. :)

A tuckered out Saturday

Daisy the pug is having a wondrous recovery from her bladder stone surgery.  You'd never know to look at her that she'd had major surgery done under a week ago.  I remember when Violet had the same thing done back in August that she was so poorly, for up to a week.  I'm so proud. :)

And I was able to eat breakfast with the chickens this morning, which tops out as one of my favorite things, but you know that.  It's my Saturday morning ritual, if the weather is agreeable.  Watching the birds and squirrels, just sitting there and relaxing.  It's darn near perfect.

Talked to boot camp boy as well.  Definite highlight of my day.  We were at my mom's cleaning up her house and he called, and all but two of us were over there.  We passed the phone around and got our fill.  Can't wait to see him, and the call was especially sweet when he told me how much he missed his family.  My goodness, could I love him any more?

Must go now.  Tomorrow will be here soon enough, with picking up my mom and taking her to her house.  I'll be there to spend the night, and we'll see what Monday brings.  As I said a few days ago, if you want to follow the blog I'm writing about her/our journey caring for her with her stroke, just leave a comment here and I'll pass on the web address.  Several of you already have, and I appreciate it.

News from the front

Just booked the hotel on base for our son's graduation.  I can't begin to tell you of the huge relief this is for me.  Last night, Gary and I were talking about my stress regarding my mom, basic training concerns, and daily life.  My body's been telling me to cool it and I told him I can't always tell when a headache will hit, or other symptoms will rear their heads.  I was okay talking about stuff until Joseph's graduation came up and I just started to cry.  That's where my heart is---not really with what my mom is going through.  And to stay on base, to have him back to the room to eat dinner with us two nights (before he has to report back to his barracks or whatever you want to call it) is incredibly wonderful.

Just wanted to share.  I'm blown away.  And after doing my research online, this is exactly the place I wanted us to stay.  So glad I prayed for God's will and timing for this.  Any closer to the day and the rooms would be booked.  Rejoice!

Today's grace

Joseph called for his allowed 30 minute phone call late this afternoon.  Bliss.  Seems like we last talked to him 3 weeks ago.  Way too long ago.  In the midst of him sounding like he'd cry (but bearing up, sounding stronger than when he first arrived), he said he was second in command in his platoon and had ranked 3rd in shooting.

My birthday is on Monday, and I consider that phone call the best gift I'll receive.  Hands down.  Loved that he wanted to talk to everyone who was here, and even hung up after 20 minutes to call his older sister and one of his brothers who weren't here.

Now I'm exhausted.  Bet my boy is as well.

On a humorous note, he said Basic Training wasn't very hard.  Gary said he almost sounded disappointed in saying that.  I think Joseph was mentally prepared for anguish, but really as folks say, if you can survive the first two weeks, the rest is cake.

Thankful for cake.

Family stuff

Errands.  Went to see my mom, took her the cherry pie for her main squeeze (don't say it), and we talked for about an hour and a half.  Good to visit, but frustrating, since she really doesn't understand how limited she is and will be when she gets home.  I say wheelchair---she counters with cane.  And on and on we go.  She's visualizing an independence that just won't happen.  And we've tried to talk to her about re-arranging a couple of the rooms, so she won't have to navigate the one step down into her den. We talked about moving all of her den stuff into her living room---re-routing the cable t.v., etc., but she doesn't want that.  She says she wants things the way they used to be, to be the person she was several months ago.  Well, she's already not that person either physically or mentally.  Parts of her brain are just missing.  She's almost in temperament like a small child who wants their way. She's good-natured, but will stick out her bottom lip when she doesn't like what you say.  And oddly enough (in a funny way) she does it a couple of times each time I visit.  Like a kid being stubborn.  Very strange.

I don't mean to sound horsey talking about her.  I try to be encouraging, but realistic at the same time.  I'm game for her to gain as much independence as possible, but we all draw the line at her driving.  She's really looking forward to that (which does no harm to long for it), but that'll never happen.  And while I appreciate her optimism, I acknowledge that her physical achievements so far are likely as good as it'll get.

Anyway, good visit nonetheless.  Her room-mate was off having physical therapy, so it was nice to talk without being overheard, not that we say anything that's top secret.

Moving on.

Saw a man in fatigues at the grocery store afterward and told him I especially liked seeing a man in uniform now since our son joined the Guard.  He was the nicest thing. He's in the Air National Guard and asked where Joseph was having Basic, and was full of information for me.  Said he loved it, had been in 21 years and just went on and on. Then I thanked him for his sacrifice and what he was doing.  Know what he did?  He said, "No, thank you for not standing in your son's way.  For allowing him to join."  My, my.  That just floored me.

Anyway, very full up after talking to him.  That was a blessing I was unprepared for.  I'm a military mom. And I don't know what to do with that realization.

Tuesday afternoon

Had gotten the impression from some of the parents on Facebook, whose children are also at the Army Base where our son is located, that it's good to include their platoon # on the letters.  I'd gotten his address by calling the main office there a few weeks ago, and the man then didn't tell me what Joseph's platoon was called, either by color or number.  Good enough then.  But you know how we parents are---a bit OCD at the best of times.

We have a few packages of cough drops to send him (he can't get them there, and they're really strict on what they can receive---have to really toe the line), and I called to get his platoon number.  The man who answered was really sweet, catching on immediately as to what I was calling for, and told me that the platoon number wasn't necessary for sending mail.  I thanked him, hung up and started to cry.

My goodness.  I think my emotions are raw, and add to that, had had a sweet conversation with my mom this morning as well.  She was asking me to buy cherry pies for us and her gentleman friend for Valentine's.  I'm to bring his up to her room, so she can give it to him on Friday.

Nothing big going on.  Just probably need a good hearty cry.  You know how it is.  If you don't get that opportunity to do that, then you'll just leak.

Just this very moment

"Velma opened her eyes to discover she was standing in the barn.  Their old barn made new again.  She was looking at the tanned, sweating back of a man. He was stripped to the waist and held something metal in his hands---something he was sharpening.  Her first funny thought in all of this was that she had legs.  This was an old fact and a brand-new fact that rushed into her because she felt them---her legs---standing strong like she hadn't felt in, well...Just how long had it been since her legs could carry her forward without a doubt or a care?  She lifted her hands, and they were spotless, just the flesh of her, no evidence of where they'd been or the toil they'd endured.
---
...The man wasn't just any man.  It was her man..... 

Joe moved, lifted his head like he had heard something calling from far, far away.  Then he turned and looked at her, was looking at her right now, and she was drowning in her man's blue eyes.  He studied her, her fingers at her lips, her eyes full of wonder and heat and promises, and he emptied his hands before he stepped forward.  This, right now, is forever, she thought. This moment is forever and always.  It is everything."~from Saints in Limbo by River Jordan

I began reading this book again last night and some things rang true.  With my mom's stroke, I've shared that I look at things differently.  Not all the time, but a considerable enough time.  I'm learning to cherish things more.  It seems to be a natural progression to see the threat of death in the face, and be more attentive toward the simple events of the day.  Like the quote above.

In the story, Velma has been widowed a year and is desperately missing her husband of many years.  I won't spoil the story, but she is granted the ability to see into the past, to re-live certain events and relish them like she probably didn't do when they happened the first time.  We do get so used to the daily things and we don't always realize that that very moment might be the last time.  Like the last time a baby nurses.  You don't always know that it'll be his/her last time to reach for you in that special way.  Or the last time you bake a particular dessert, read a certain book, or look into a loved one's face.

I so adore the way this writer calls our attention to those moments.  And in that same context, we got our very first letter from Joseph at Basic Training.  Now I can go to bed. My day is done (kidding).  I'm happy. :)

This and that

~the one with glasses writing

I miss our boy today.  Had gotten discouraged Monday, considering the Facebook page for his Basic Training hadn't updated the photos over the weekend.  Seeing fresh ones yesterday afternoon was glorious. And seeing the kids/and not so kids smiling as they did their stuff was encouraging.  Maybe they're finding their places there---less overwhelmed.  Gosh, I miss Joseph.  I want to get my arms around him and hug him.  Watch him sleep and feed him up.  Next month we'll see him!  He graduates mid-March, and some of us will go.  He'll then leave for 2 months more training, but the break of getting to see him will be a joy.

And my mom will get out of her Rehab. next month as well---likely the week before we leave.  My brothers will have to step up to the plate a bit more then, for sure. The brother who lives just out of town has been sweet, though.  He paid her deductible, and he drives 30 minutes or so after he leaves work to visit her Tuesday through Saturday, without fail.  Funny, but we all have the roles we play.  I pay her bills, handle all her paperwork, check on her house, do her laundry and visit twice a week. My out-of-town in Louisiana brother sends her money once a month, and calls her to let her cry and unload.  Put us all together in one jar and shake us up and you'd have a pretty neat person. :)  And while my care for her is more detail-oriented, I couldn't do what my brothers do.  I'm not willing to listen to her sadness (just can't handle it), don't have the emotional ability to visit daily, and can't afford to pay her bills.  Guess I'm sort of her secretary, mmmm?

Anyway, will be interesting to see how things fly next month.  But we're not there yet. I'm just doing February. And, btw, we've been married 31 years today.  Waytogo us.

My sweet boy

~he's the one standing straight ahead

~the one sitting so straight (without his glasses)

Longwindedness, but necessary

Back from church.  The least one did fine in her Acolyte role---you'd really not know this was her first Sunday to do it.  Well-done.  And now we rest.  Not sure when the boys will be here to eat.  The house is in a horrific state, but considering the fact that they lived here for over 20 years, they get our untidy habits. I've not been to their apartment since they put furniture in it.  Probably looks like our house!  Unfortunately, my mental state reflects itself in how awful I'll allow the house to get.  Look at one, you understand the other.

The delightful part of my day, however, is waiting for the Facebook page aligned with our son's Basic Training to put up new photos.  They already updated the info part of their page, telling us what the recruits did this week.  I find it amazing that we're allowed an insider's look at the camp, seeing our kids (or spouses in some cases) in their new digs. Drumming my fingers on the computer, just waiting.  Anticipation is wonderful, I think.

And I keep thinking of our visit with my mom yesterday.  I was sitting on her bed (she was in her wheelchair) and she wanted to know what her bank balance was.  Told her I'd call the bank right then and there and check it for her.  I put a piece of paper on her little roll-away meal table and gave her a pen.  Her handwriting has improved quite a bit, so reading what she puts down is easy now.  Anyway, I said put down your Social Security # and I'll punch it in the phone.  She writes down the pound sign (#) for number, then proceeds to write the word B U D J E T (at least her brain was working in the money/numbers category...close, but not close enough).  She started to hand it to me and I quietly asked her to write down her SS#. Didn't miss a beat, but didn't realize she'd not written the right thing to begin with.  She got it right the second time.  This on the heels of her asking about a particular green sweater, which I thought might be in her Rehab. room closet.  I walked over to it, took out a sweater (which had red pants hanging underneath them), but it wasn't the sweater she wanted.  Asked her if she wanted the red pants, but she said they didn't fit anymore. Then she said that when they were doing her wash at the hospital (I did all her laundry and still do), they must've put something in the water, because to her they didn't appear as red as they used to. Personally, I think the stroke affected her ability to see colors correctly.  Not the first time she's commented on reds looking pink-ish.

Makes MY brain tired.  I didn't realize strokes affected such varied parts of a person's abilities or habits. Fourth son, who went with me, admitted on the way home that as soon as we hit my mom's room and walk in the door, he's wanting to turn around and walk right back out.  It takes inner resources that aren't always there.  I appreciated his honesty.  Keeps you from going nuts if you can attend to your own needs and not become too overwhelmed.

Today I'm trying to take care of me and not go nuts.

Boot camp boy

Have been browsing the pictures at the Facebook page devoted to the group of recruits our Nat'l Guard son is stationed with.  And seriously, can you believe that we can actually look at current photos of our kids at Boot Camp?  It's not like it used to be, at least not in the Army.

I think I've got it figured out---way out of my scope of experience, so had to learn that there are different Battalions, etc. Anyway, this photo, I think, pretty clearly shows our son, Joseph.  He's the white boy smack in the middle of the photo.

Can't beat that with a stick.  I'd cut his hair short before he left, but this is, of course, shorter.  And the unattractive glasses they have to wear aren't very conducive to fashion, so to find him in a photo requires us to scratch our heads.  We've found one more that appears to be him.

Such a comfort to actually see his group and what they're doing.  Just touching at the same time to see how young they are and how exhausted they all seem. Bless them all.

Saturday evening

Feeling so full just now.  I got a bee in my bonnet (surely God's nudging) to get online with the base to get the phone number where third son is stationed in North Carolina.  Everyone's told me that the recruits won't be able to receive mail the first couple of weeks.  Our son, though, last Friday asked me to find out the address and write.  I didn't know what to do.  But obviously nobody else was going to do it for me.  A couple of nights ago, I was about to go to sleep and got the distinct feeling that he needed prayer.  Right then.  Got to business on that at that very moment, and today just called the base.  Made my heart beat fast.  I really do think they keep them isolated for a bit, so I'm praying my timing is good.

Now I've lived on adrenaline all day.  Glorious.  I'm so excited that my call went through, someone really looked up his name and gave me distinct instructions on what to write on the envelope.  Moms.  We just want to know where our chickens are.

And thankfully I had stationary and stamps.  I got a note off as did the least one. I even stuck in a chicken feather.  They make such great bookmarks. :)

Now I'm listening to The Newsboys and Nickle Creek, getting my happy on.

And it's odd.  In the midst of this joyous personal experience I'm having, my aunt and uncle are going through the hardest situation you can have, bar a couple of things I can think of.  She's back home from the hospital, still with a weak heart, and my uncle is getting a feeding tube inserted next Tuesday, and will be moving to a nursing home after the feeding tube is secured, sometime later next week.

I'll go see him on Monday afternoon, after taking fourth son to work.  Seriously, might be the last time I see him.  His time to go be with the Lord is soon.  We all can just tell.  And if you sit still and think about that simple reality, life is so crystal.  Even since my mom's stroke, I can feel my attitudes about certain things alter.  So much is trivial, and facing the possibility of disability or death changes a person's outlook.  Least it has mine, and frankly, it's good.  As Tonia at Study in Brown says today....living is so dear.  Yes.  Yes it is.

Saturday afternoon

Had a text from my cousin yesterday---turns out her mom (my mom's sister) has a blood clot in her lung. Nuts.  And my cousin had her dad admitted to the same hospital, planning to get him observed to see how fit they are (they definitely are) for some skilled nursing care.  The ultimate plan is to find a nursing home type of situation for him, at least short-term so my aunt can be attended to. Not sure how this will fly.  He was successfully admitted with issues of dehydration and a low potassium level.  It's not pretty.  Trying to juggle and do the best thing.  Thankfully my other cousin, her brother, is here in town this weekend to help her out. But unfortunately there must be a male gene in our family that give the men an out so that the women have to take over.  Some wuss gene, I'm thinking.  Man up, I say.

I understand the need to distance yourself from the problem, but usually the problem is still there once you tug your head out of the sand.  This male cousin is definitely related to my older brothers.  Useless.

Shoot.  I'm getting more than my fair share of senior health issues.  Getting first hand knowledge of how the system works with Medicare and Medicaid.  Good to know, but would rather be doing most anything else.

And boot camp boy was able to make another quick phone call yesterday afternoon---he had five minutes to talk, but cut it short because he said he was about to cry.  The upside of the call was that he sounded out-of-breath, saying they'd started basic training for sure yesterday, so maybe keeping active will help his mood. He's in good physical shape, being used to biking or long-boarding everywhere.  That's a plus.  Very lean. His endurance is good, but he's a homebody, so that's the hard part.  Not sure if he'll be able to call again during the thick of the training (next two weeks), but I'm surprised I got to visit with him so much this week anyway.

Oldest daughter's begun to watch me, seeing that I don't get overwhelmed.  I'm able to turn off my aunt's and uncle's medical problems in my head.  Will probably have to tell my mom soon, being that she talks to her sister everyday and will wonder why she's not answering her phone.  Not sure that protecting her from the knowledge is a good idea, but she might be glad my aunt is in the hospital and not slaving at home over my uncle, whose increasing dementia makes everyday a dark adventure.

And so it goes.  Planning on having a nice, simmery dinner tomorrow, so that the house smells good and we all feel comforted.  You do the same. :)