Monday, November 1, 2010
Friday October 29
Minus one tooth , one way back there in a hole all by itself no connection on the top row of teeth and hurting so it came out.
The new dentist is a peach.
He did a swell job.
Sabrina insisted I stay at her house till we saw that it would heal without problems.
A few hours later I was eating bean soup, no pain.
All went very well.
Brie wanted me to stay for her Halloween party.
I wanted away from people.
I thought "I will tell her in the morning that I want to go home"
Morning came and little miss perfection was in a tizzy.
She had this to do and that 6to do and son wanted to be driven here then there,
there was a festival in town and she had to make a giant pot of chilly.
Did I dare ask her to take me home 35 minutes away (one way)????
Of course not.
I decided to grin and bare it.
I had the eternal dress up dress I purchased in 1972 in Tangiers.
Usually all gold embroidery type dress. I remember it was about 7 bucks.
We did ask 25.00 for a watercolor at the time.
I dressed up with a crown Brie had and became the stepmother witch of
Snow White.
I was mostly concerned about not hearing people but in the end I had a good time.
Someone would just come and sit by me and talk lous enough.
I went to bed happy that I had stayed and seen (again) Sabrina's friends.
Rhonda came late as she had worked.
She dressed like a movie star.
She had the original 1920's hat on which she had saved from a 1993 estate sale we had.
Wow! She did not let me see the name of the designer, it might have landed on eBay.
Photos to follow.
The new dentist is a peach.
He did a swell job.
Sabrina insisted I stay at her house till we saw that it would heal without problems.
A few hours later I was eating bean soup, no pain.
All went very well.
Brie wanted me to stay for her Halloween party.
I wanted away from people.
I thought "I will tell her in the morning that I want to go home"
Morning came and little miss perfection was in a tizzy.
She had this to do and that 6to do and son wanted to be driven here then there,
there was a festival in town and she had to make a giant pot of chilly.
Did I dare ask her to take me home 35 minutes away (one way)????
Of course not.
I decided to grin and bare it.
I had the eternal dress up dress I purchased in 1972 in Tangiers.
Usually all gold embroidery type dress. I remember it was about 7 bucks.
We did ask 25.00 for a watercolor at the time.
I dressed up with a crown Brie had and became the stepmother witch of
Snow White.
I was mostly concerned about not hearing people but in the end I had a good time.
Someone would just come and sit by me and talk lous enough.
I went to bed happy that I had stayed and seen (again) Sabrina's friends.
Rhonda came late as she had worked.
She dressed like a movie star.
She had the original 1920's hat on which she had saved from a 1993 estate sale we had.
Wow! She did not let me see the name of the designer, it might have landed on eBay.
Photos to follow.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
No feeling up to par
my head is not clearing up and I am so much in a fog that I left the cartridge for the cameraq on my desk on the way to the court house and donation of Bob's painting.
In the evening I felt just terrible, I kept thinking I had done something wrong, could not pin point it but felt I hade hurt someones feelings.
I hate that.
I am probably more in the fog than I know.
Outside court house ,painting in right hands, I look up and from the sky out of nowhere, no bushes around it, comes this big monarch butterfly , the girls freak out , I am beginning to think this is normal.Old Bob was happy with our decision.
On the painting while we presented it was a ladybug which is a sign for Rhonda. She was inside paying a ticket for her forgetting to get a tag renewed, she came out triumphed case dismissed! No fine!
In the evening I felt just terrible, I kept thinking I had done something wrong, could not pin point it but felt I hade hurt someones feelings.
I hate that.
I am probably more in the fog than I know.
Outside court house ,painting in right hands, I look up and from the sky out of nowhere, no bushes around it, comes this big monarch butterfly , the girls freak out , I am beginning to think this is normal.Old Bob was happy with our decision.
On the painting while we presented it was a ladybug which is a sign for Rhonda. She was inside paying a ticket for her forgetting to get a tag renewed, she came out triumphed case dismissed! No fine!
October 28 1956
On that date I gave birth to twin boys, still born, full term , came the day they were due.
Blame was put on the Xrays taken 3 days before.
Shortly after that John Hopkins came to the conclusion that Xrays during pregnancy could
be dangerous,.
I never forget their birthday.
They would be 54 today.
Angels somewhere perhaps today?
Blame was put on the Xrays taken 3 days before.
Shortly after that John Hopkins came to the conclusion that Xrays during pregnancy could
be dangerous,.
I never forget their birthday.
They would be 54 today.
Angels somewhere perhaps today?
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
storms outside, much needed rain but still warm in
Been a fairly good day, I would even say a good day.
Started baking zuchini banana breads.
While all my "stuff" is still on the table will do a pound cake.
can freeze them for saturday for Halloween party.
If I am in the kitchen and smell the baking it opens up the heart and....
the mouth for tasting.
Tasting does not mean half a loaf Jeannot!
With whipped butter mixed with honey.
Oh the calories...oh the earthly pleasures of food.
BUT did sleep my 3 hours the afternoon, can't seem to be without them.
What is on tonight?
W3 did not see the end of Hells Kitchen because they had baseball on.....
will we ever catch it again?
Damn baseball.
Bobby has now some electronic tuner for the guitar , neat gadget but he was hardly off.
Hope he continues in that interest.
Tomorrow special day.
Started baking zuchini banana breads.
While all my "stuff" is still on the table will do a pound cake.
can freeze them for saturday for Halloween party.
If I am in the kitchen and smell the baking it opens up the heart and....
the mouth for tasting.
Tasting does not mean half a loaf Jeannot!
With whipped butter mixed with honey.
Oh the calories...oh the earthly pleasures of food.
BUT did sleep my 3 hours the afternoon, can't seem to be without them.
What is on tonight?
W3 did not see the end of Hells Kitchen because they had baseball on.....
will we ever catch it again?
Damn baseball.
Bobby has now some electronic tuner for the guitar , neat gadget but he was hardly off.
Hope he continues in that interest.
Tomorrow special day.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Sunny Sunday
Gorgeous outside.
In a better mood still do not feel like working but I have a pile of wash to do and
kitchen floor to wash.
Hoping for a great week.
This week we give the painting to the new court house, generations will be able to see his talent.
Then on Friday I get a tooth pulled and next day a party at Sabrina's.
I get to sleep over so that will be fun too.
Wanted to also see Bob at home as he loves Halloween and he has a knight suit to give candy to the kids.
He said he will be fine alone, I should not worry so much.
I make stuff up to worry. So he will invite a friend....and I may stay home aftr all.....
A drug dealer has moved in across the street and while I walked Bijou I saw him coming again and
I quickly went home, a car stopped right where he was and he negotiated via a dropped window and off went the car.
Bob tells me not to worry, seeing a cop will make him run for his life and we have enough phones in the house if something weird goes on. He probably is just establishing a route.
Life is interesting these days.
This quiet street no longer is so quiet. Having said that I count 10 dogs in 5 houses around us and if one gives a signal all 10 answer. A few of them are mean. Ours bark but I think if someone would touch me the Corgy would bite for sure.
OK OK back to the wash and the floor.
In a better mood still do not feel like working but I have a pile of wash to do and
kitchen floor to wash.
Hoping for a great week.
This week we give the painting to the new court house, generations will be able to see his talent.
Then on Friday I get a tooth pulled and next day a party at Sabrina's.
I get to sleep over so that will be fun too.
Wanted to also see Bob at home as he loves Halloween and he has a knight suit to give candy to the kids.
He said he will be fine alone, I should not worry so much.
I make stuff up to worry. So he will invite a friend....and I may stay home aftr all.....
A drug dealer has moved in across the street and while I walked Bijou I saw him coming again and
I quickly went home, a car stopped right where he was and he negotiated via a dropped window and off went the car.
Bob tells me not to worry, seeing a cop will make him run for his life and we have enough phones in the house if something weird goes on. He probably is just establishing a route.
Life is interesting these days.
This quiet street no longer is so quiet. Having said that I count 10 dogs in 5 houses around us and if one gives a signal all 10 answer. A few of them are mean. Ours bark but I think if someone would touch me the Corgy would bite for sure.
OK OK back to the wash and the floor.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Mood , mood, mood,
Better if no one comes near me.
I am acting like a 16 year old with PMS, her boy friend left her best friend, and she just found a pimple on her nose.
You get the picture, it is fountain time and I did buy enough Kleenex yesterday, so I am all set.
Do not visit.
I am acting like a 16 year old with PMS, her boy friend left her best friend, and she just found a pimple on her nose.
You get the picture, it is fountain time and I did buy enough Kleenex yesterday, so I am all set.
Do not visit.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
falling leaves.........................
Leaves are making carpets on the road, quilts on the lawn and it is time to gather.
So what are my thoughts?
How weird that I can't quite remember when Bob would be gathering the fallen colors with so much glee in his heart, he loved the color mix and he would do such a magnificent job.
I have a hard time playing back that scenario.
But what sticks to the brain is the view of the last 3 autumns.
Sabrina would come big leaf blower in hand, gadget over her ears and goggles.
One would think she was a deep sea diver.
The noise would start and dust, leaves, sticks and papers would fly into a big heap along the road.Ready it was for Monday's pick up by the city.
From the first click on her large machine Bob would be at the window.
He would murmur some words and go out. He'd start waving his arms in anger, what are you doing,my yard, my leaves.
Sabrina would try and ignore and continue her pile.
Old Bob would run out there and pick up arm loads and bring them back in the yard.
I would watch from the kitchen window and swear under mybreath.
I could not see humor in it.
I just was so damn angry.
Why could he not leave well enough alone.
I had a helper, I needed help.
Where was my great artist , best friend, who would enjoy this chore and
come in with a smile when done.
Somehow this year what I remember most is the anger we both had.
He for someone stealing his leaves and me for not being able to forgive him for being sick.
I am hoping that in 2011 I will only remember the fun Bob.
So what are my thoughts?
How weird that I can't quite remember when Bob would be gathering the fallen colors with so much glee in his heart, he loved the color mix and he would do such a magnificent job.
I have a hard time playing back that scenario.
But what sticks to the brain is the view of the last 3 autumns.
Sabrina would come big leaf blower in hand, gadget over her ears and goggles.
One would think she was a deep sea diver.
The noise would start and dust, leaves, sticks and papers would fly into a big heap along the road.Ready it was for Monday's pick up by the city.
From the first click on her large machine Bob would be at the window.
He would murmur some words and go out. He'd start waving his arms in anger, what are you doing,my yard, my leaves.
Sabrina would try and ignore and continue her pile.
Old Bob would run out there and pick up arm loads and bring them back in the yard.
I would watch from the kitchen window and swear under mybreath.
I could not see humor in it.
I just was so damn angry.
Why could he not leave well enough alone.
I had a helper, I needed help.
Where was my great artist , best friend, who would enjoy this chore and
come in with a smile when done.
Somehow this year what I remember most is the anger we both had.
He for someone stealing his leaves and me for not being able to forgive him for being sick.
I am hoping that in 2011 I will only remember the fun Bob.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Butterflies.................
A few days before Bob passed on a blue butterfly came and sat on my left shoulder, I was shocked, this had never happened to me before. It sat there for quite awhile then flew around my head close to my face.
I got frightened, I thought that Bob had passed on , came into the house to phone and check, no everything was still the same. I forgot about it.
Next day , go to the garbage bin, blue butterfly appears and flies around my head. Say what?
This is beginning to be strange.
Daughter comes to trim the hedge and I start to clean up a garden corner, blue butterfly is surrounding me with circling my head about 6 or so inches from my head, Rhonda is my witness and she is beginning to laugh, she tells me that this is beginning to be boring as the butterfly is not leaving. Many minutes and I become dizzy from the flutters around my head. I laugh and cry.
Then I remember that there is a card with a large blue butterfly next to his bed.
We all joke about it.
Bob passes on and sure enough I have more visits from the blue butterfly.
So it gets cold at night and frosty. I figure we will not see a blue butterfly for awhile.
We go to Pisgah Forest to bring his ashes to the river , Frank picks a fabulous spot.
Frank fishes here almost every day (in that Forest) I think he knows every good spot.
He picked this one out of 5, he tells me.
Stepping out of his giant truck I look down a steep drop of several feet till I notice the running creek.
No problems. 3 hefty guys hold my arms and show me where to step, I almost feel like I have wings going down. So I am talking to old Bob and I am saying in my bossy tone (even in my head I can be bossy)
"OK Bob you better send me a butterfly, I know there was frost but , I need a butterfly to know you are here."
We bring, one by one, the ashes and deliver them to the clear waters of the creek which eventually will flow into the large French Broad River, Rhonda brings what Bob liked the most: vanilla ice cream, white chocolate morsels. It all blends into a white cloud ripples down a small waterfall into the next pond and on to more waterfalls between giant rocks. Sabrina has flowers, they follow the parade.
Frank surprises us and has his childhood Bible and reads from Isiah.
I am in a total fog, this is not real the whole scene is not real.
It is gorgeous here, wild flowers are everywhere especially purple asters,
the sun peaks with a bright smile in between the still yellow leaves on the trees,
you can't hear traffic, you can't hear anything but the rushing of the water.
Zack made a Mad Hatter hat and I love it, I wear it as I just said we are here to
celebrate a man's life. He is leaving us but look what he gave us in beauty.
Zack grandchildren will talk about the paintings they inherit, So will Jim's (he drove from Chapel Hill )
we will all look at his work and remember the gentle talented painter.
Mitch remembered a joke when he approached Bob and said: Sorry I missed your birthday party yesterday and Bob quickly answered : Don't worry about it you were not invited"
Mitch cracked up, that was Bob. He had an answer for everything but mostly he had that kind face and laughter. In the nursing home they told us that the smile did it all, he smiled at every body.
So the Mad hatter hat in place on my head I search to steal a plant in the National Forest (against the law) I have it roots and all, no idea what kind it is but it will grow for me.
Frank gets a rock for me. Frank loved dad a lot.
The girls are doing fine, Rhonda has a crying spell but I am calm, she will be fine.
Sabrina takes photos and we decide it is time to leave Grandpa once and for all so we start the
climb back to the truck and I stop in shock and awe a tattered blue butterfly is coming my way, the small group knows my story and freezes in their tracks . Frank rushes to take a photo as it sits on a fern,
later it goes to an aster we are all laughing now with nervous energy.....what does it all mean....
I know in my heart that old Bob heard the orders from his mate and managed to find one
butterfly at the very end of his/hers energy, wings in dire straights yet it did find our party.
Thank you, Bob. Thank you.
When I find out how to bring the photo from Sabrina's site to here I will post it.
If you see a blue butterfly send it my way.......
I got frightened, I thought that Bob had passed on , came into the house to phone and check, no everything was still the same. I forgot about it.
Next day , go to the garbage bin, blue butterfly appears and flies around my head. Say what?
This is beginning to be strange.
Daughter comes to trim the hedge and I start to clean up a garden corner, blue butterfly is surrounding me with circling my head about 6 or so inches from my head, Rhonda is my witness and she is beginning to laugh, she tells me that this is beginning to be boring as the butterfly is not leaving. Many minutes and I become dizzy from the flutters around my head. I laugh and cry.
Then I remember that there is a card with a large blue butterfly next to his bed.
We all joke about it.
Bob passes on and sure enough I have more visits from the blue butterfly.
So it gets cold at night and frosty. I figure we will not see a blue butterfly for awhile.
We go to Pisgah Forest to bring his ashes to the river , Frank picks a fabulous spot.
Frank fishes here almost every day (in that Forest) I think he knows every good spot.
He picked this one out of 5, he tells me.
Stepping out of his giant truck I look down a steep drop of several feet till I notice the running creek.
No problems. 3 hefty guys hold my arms and show me where to step, I almost feel like I have wings going down. So I am talking to old Bob and I am saying in my bossy tone (even in my head I can be bossy)
"OK Bob you better send me a butterfly, I know there was frost but , I need a butterfly to know you are here."
We bring, one by one, the ashes and deliver them to the clear waters of the creek which eventually will flow into the large French Broad River, Rhonda brings what Bob liked the most: vanilla ice cream, white chocolate morsels. It all blends into a white cloud ripples down a small waterfall into the next pond and on to more waterfalls between giant rocks. Sabrina has flowers, they follow the parade.
Frank surprises us and has his childhood Bible and reads from Isiah.
I am in a total fog, this is not real the whole scene is not real.
It is gorgeous here, wild flowers are everywhere especially purple asters,
the sun peaks with a bright smile in between the still yellow leaves on the trees,
you can't hear traffic, you can't hear anything but the rushing of the water.
Zack made a Mad Hatter hat and I love it, I wear it as I just said we are here to
celebrate a man's life. He is leaving us but look what he gave us in beauty.
Zack grandchildren will talk about the paintings they inherit, So will Jim's (he drove from Chapel Hill )
we will all look at his work and remember the gentle talented painter.
Mitch remembered a joke when he approached Bob and said: Sorry I missed your birthday party yesterday and Bob quickly answered : Don't worry about it you were not invited"
Mitch cracked up, that was Bob. He had an answer for everything but mostly he had that kind face and laughter. In the nursing home they told us that the smile did it all, he smiled at every body.
So the Mad hatter hat in place on my head I search to steal a plant in the National Forest (against the law) I have it roots and all, no idea what kind it is but it will grow for me.
Frank gets a rock for me. Frank loved dad a lot.
The girls are doing fine, Rhonda has a crying spell but I am calm, she will be fine.
Sabrina takes photos and we decide it is time to leave Grandpa once and for all so we start the
climb back to the truck and I stop in shock and awe a tattered blue butterfly is coming my way, the small group knows my story and freezes in their tracks . Frank rushes to take a photo as it sits on a fern,
later it goes to an aster we are all laughing now with nervous energy.....what does it all mean....
I know in my heart that old Bob heard the orders from his mate and managed to find one
butterfly at the very end of his/hers energy, wings in dire straights yet it did find our party.
Thank you, Bob. Thank you.
When I find out how to bring the photo from Sabrina's site to here I will post it.
If you see a blue butterfly send it my way.......
Thursday, October 14, 2010
kiss the chef? I don't think so
Weird week end it was and weirder week so far.
Of course I took up cleaning some closets, things which belonged to Bob had to be sorted out.
Most went to Hospice shop but he hid so much I had to be very thorough in checking pockets and such.
Slowly I am thinking about items which are no longer to be found.
Then man across the street told me Bob gave him a small painting.....
Bob did like to give things...s I am also searching for a lovely bracelet given to him by our friend L.
One of a kind made for him.
Frustrating .......................
Then I needed new blankets, wondered where I had stored the winter ones, then remembered.
Bob had started to look for scissors and when he found one he cut up our best winter blankets.
A little corner here then a strip there and I have not a clue what he was going to do with this.
I remember how angry he was when I took away the scissors and told him that he ruined the blankets. He had no idea and looked at me with hatred in the eyes. I am sure I did too.
The fact that we are bringing his ashes t the forest on Sunday is also on my mind.
Very much so.
It will not be easy and sort of unreal unimaginable .
I am feeling like I am on steroids or something, I sort of want to leave my skin behind and crawl out. Now that makes a lot of sense does it not? Wow, where is a shrink when I need one.
Books are written about mourning and perhaps I should read one,
BUT I need a manual on how to do a re-entry in "regular" life.
I am lost after all these years with one focus in mind.
I invited dear friends of ours who stood by me and deserve a nice luncheon in my house.
They have taken me out for lunch for years now and I could not reciprocate because Bob did not like changes in the house nor visitors.
I am supposed to be a fairly decent cook....that is..I was.
I have been thinking about this lunch day and night for days now.
What does one serve for lunch? What do they like?
I have not made coffee for 6 in decades, how many spoons to a cup? Forgotten.
Finally I bought some very nice cheeses and wil hopefully remember on how to bake a nice bread to go with it.
You would think the queen of England is coming, these are very old friends, we go back almost 40 years.They would not give a damn if I gave them dry bread and water. Why am I so petrified of company in the house? I used to cook for 20 or 25 people and be so excited about it, cooked 2 or 3 days on a big meal .
Where did I go? Where is the woman from the old days?
Did caregiving so rob me of the normal lifestyle. Dr House on TV tells us that Normal is Overrated.
Guess so.
I ll be back on Tuesday to let you know how this luncheon ended.
Coffee may be so strong to put hair on your chest.
There is so much cheese that we may all need prunes with it to make life better, you get my drift.
And then there is the party.
Yup, I am invited t Sabrina's Halloween party.
Always tons of food but bring your own booze if you want to do that too.
I am excited about that but...but...hearing is such a big problem .....with tons of noise it is not any better....they will ask me if I like the new paint job in my office and I will answer somthing like :Yes, I am going home tomorrow afternoon, I miss my dog......just saying...a party is something to think about too.
When if ever will I be in the same shoes I wore before Alzheimer entered our door? When will I fit into society again? When will I cook with great joy again? When will I stop the crying and looking for Bob and memories in every walk I take. Why is it so hard to become "self" when "self" was almost destroyed and completely lost for years.
Like I took on the job one hour at a time with Bob for all these years I have to learn to be my own caregiver now and be kind to myself and learn to laugh and joke again.
Of course I took up cleaning some closets, things which belonged to Bob had to be sorted out.
Most went to Hospice shop but he hid so much I had to be very thorough in checking pockets and such.
Slowly I am thinking about items which are no longer to be found.
Then man across the street told me Bob gave him a small painting.....
Bob did like to give things...s I am also searching for a lovely bracelet given to him by our friend L.
One of a kind made for him.
Frustrating .......................
Then I needed new blankets, wondered where I had stored the winter ones, then remembered.
Bob had started to look for scissors and when he found one he cut up our best winter blankets.
A little corner here then a strip there and I have not a clue what he was going to do with this.
I remember how angry he was when I took away the scissors and told him that he ruined the blankets. He had no idea and looked at me with hatred in the eyes. I am sure I did too.
The fact that we are bringing his ashes t the forest on Sunday is also on my mind.
Very much so.
It will not be easy and sort of unreal unimaginable .
I am feeling like I am on steroids or something, I sort of want to leave my skin behind and crawl out. Now that makes a lot of sense does it not? Wow, where is a shrink when I need one.
Books are written about mourning and perhaps I should read one,
BUT I need a manual on how to do a re-entry in "regular" life.
I am lost after all these years with one focus in mind.
I invited dear friends of ours who stood by me and deserve a nice luncheon in my house.
They have taken me out for lunch for years now and I could not reciprocate because Bob did not like changes in the house nor visitors.
I am supposed to be a fairly decent cook....that is..I was.
I have been thinking about this lunch day and night for days now.
What does one serve for lunch? What do they like?
I have not made coffee for 6 in decades, how many spoons to a cup? Forgotten.
Finally I bought some very nice cheeses and wil hopefully remember on how to bake a nice bread to go with it.
You would think the queen of England is coming, these are very old friends, we go back almost 40 years.They would not give a damn if I gave them dry bread and water. Why am I so petrified of company in the house? I used to cook for 20 or 25 people and be so excited about it, cooked 2 or 3 days on a big meal .
Where did I go? Where is the woman from the old days?
Did caregiving so rob me of the normal lifestyle. Dr House on TV tells us that Normal is Overrated.
Guess so.
I ll be back on Tuesday to let you know how this luncheon ended.
Coffee may be so strong to put hair on your chest.
There is so much cheese that we may all need prunes with it to make life better, you get my drift.
And then there is the party.
Yup, I am invited t Sabrina's Halloween party.
Always tons of food but bring your own booze if you want to do that too.
I am excited about that but...but...hearing is such a big problem .....with tons of noise it is not any better....they will ask me if I like the new paint job in my office and I will answer somthing like :Yes, I am going home tomorrow afternoon, I miss my dog......just saying...a party is something to think about too.
When if ever will I be in the same shoes I wore before Alzheimer entered our door? When will I fit into society again? When will I cook with great joy again? When will I stop the crying and looking for Bob and memories in every walk I take. Why is it so hard to become "self" when "self" was almost destroyed and completely lost for years.
Like I took on the job one hour at a time with Bob for all these years I have to learn to be my own caregiver now and be kind to myself and learn to laugh and joke again.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
some details on the paintings shown in response t Joy
Joy, Bob sort of invented things so he would be able to have a work with the trompe l'eil effect (fool the eye), he loved to do that.
The demi tasse was done very early in our marriage, I had embroidered the piece in the background and he loved the colors, then he put in the cup and added the bottle of bromo seltzer and said that was for the headaches I gave him. He was joking.
The clock took 5 months, sold twice, the last owner willed it back to him.
The large stein was a wedding present to us and it took him 3 years to finish, he would only work from the "alive" flower so it took 3 seasons of tulips before he was done with it. Soon we will have a one man show in memory of him, possibly at the Blue Ridge school. I will send you an invitation.
The demi tasse was done very early in our marriage, I had embroidered the piece in the background and he loved the colors, then he put in the cup and added the bottle of bromo seltzer and said that was for the headaches I gave him. He was joking.
The clock took 5 months, sold twice, the last owner willed it back to him.
The large stein was a wedding present to us and it took him 3 years to finish, he would only work from the "alive" flower so it took 3 seasons of tulips before he was done with it. Soon we will have a one man show in memory of him, possibly at the Blue Ridge school. I will send you an invitation.
The artist and some of his work:
He served in the Army during WW2 , came home to get his schooling under the GI Bill. Hartnell college in Salinas, California was his first formal art education under the guidance of the well known watercolorist Leon Amyx. After graduation he went on to the Chouinard Art Institute in Los Angeles. Chouinard was the premiere art school on the west coast at that time with teachers such as Edith Head and many of the top animators from Disney. He finished with his schooling and moved to San Francisco to start his fine arts career. He had several one man shows during that time until he moved back to Santa Cruz in 1968.
In 1969 he married Jeannot and adopted her two daughters. Then he moved the whole family to the Costa del Sol in Spain. It was during the five years in Europe that he won two very prestigious awards in Belgium. He received the title of “Commandeur” and won the Vermeil medal and the Medal from the City of Brussels. This was a contest from all artists living in Europe. “Les Arts en Europe” was a show under the umbrella of the late Queen Marie Jose who left endowments for the arts and music. Bob won these honors two years in a row, in 1973 and 1974. At that time he was the only American to have won these.
He and the family returned to the USA, moving to Hendersonville in 1975. Bob acquired an agent in Florida with much of his work being sold in that state. His wife opened up Heritage Square Antiques which also served partly as a gallery for his art. Unfortunately Robert was diagnosed with Alzheimer disease in the late 90's and did not paint for the last 13 years of his life. He passed on September 5th, 2010 and we all lost a great artist. A painting of his trompe l’oeil artistry will soon be donated to the new court house for many generations to admire and be inspired by.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Response
I had tons of emails and response on my entry since WOW printed it.
I am in shock.
I "think" I can write ...to some extend.
Never learned the English language from a person, I taught myself.
Just writing the word "taught" makes me giggle, for years I wrote "thought" then one day
saw it used correctly.
I think if you speak and write Dutch and French then English comes easy.
Have you ever had battles with the French verbs????????
Anyway since childhood I have been writing.
Only child, lonely child, often verbally and physical abuse IF I did not do something "perfect"
mother wanted perfection from me.
Gosh i t is hard to write this. She was a good mother but had her own demons and 2 wars in her life to deal with. I just wish she would have learned to encourage me rather than to belittle me.
am starting to ramble.
I would write notes t myself on the butcher's paper where once was a porc chop.
Paper was a luxury especially during the war.
We had erzats paper with pieces of wood still in like splinters in a white sheet reminding us
that all is not well with the world.
I wrote about everything that had happened to me that day and try and hide it.
When you have 4 rooms in a house and only a hand full of drawers where do you hide things?
I did not have a room of my own.
I hid things in the bushes outside or in the rabbit shed. It was dark in there and rats would come to get the babies so Mom was afraid to go in there (I was too) but I had my places under the rabbit shit trays.
If I was found out then I got in trouble.
Writing to one friend when I came to the USA was a constant, she had kept my letters for decades and when my daughter did question my first marriage my friend showed her the letters.
She told her : read for yourself what your mother had to deal with.
In the last 3 years I had an email friend who listened to me every day and every morning there would be a letter to booster me up. She kept me going. Writing kept me going.
That is not to say that it was all peaches and cream.
There was a day that she wrote something like : put a pillow over his head....
Not that I had not thought about it myself more than once.
Most of all I had several ideas in my head about killing both of us, and what stopped me was
very silly, husband's studio was and still is a mess. I did not want to leave that for the kids.
Then one day I thought of burning the house down with us in it but did not have a great plan.
The dog was in the way, could not kill him.
Strange thoughts, you say, for a loving wife.
Judge not until you have walked in my flip flops.
There are days with total exhaustion, total loss of a "normal" mind.
You search for the extremes just to get relief.
Yesterday I was able to write to 2 people in the middle of their caregiving years. I was able to tell them honestly what hell they can expect and what good days will do to them.
I am an open book.
The pages may be dirty from spilled guts but life as a caregiver to a dementia patient is anything but pretty.
A friend of mine said that his mother was so funny and how he loved "visiting" her at his sisters house, it was a hoot he told me. I wanted to strangle him.
You go for a few hours and giggle with Mom and think this is just great?
Did you change her diaper by chance? Did you feed her? Did you watch her all the time to see if
she would harm herself by turning on a stove?
I don't think so.
Enough ramble for today.
I am going to have a great day, I am going to walk the dogs until their little legs fall off.
Oh well, Bijou likes to walk in my arms.
I am in shock.
I "think" I can write ...to some extend.
Never learned the English language from a person, I taught myself.
Just writing the word "taught" makes me giggle, for years I wrote "thought" then one day
saw it used correctly.
I think if you speak and write Dutch and French then English comes easy.
Have you ever had battles with the French verbs????????
Anyway since childhood I have been writing.
Only child, lonely child, often verbally and physical abuse IF I did not do something "perfect"
mother wanted perfection from me.
Gosh i t is hard to write this. She was a good mother but had her own demons and 2 wars in her life to deal with. I just wish she would have learned to encourage me rather than to belittle me.
am starting to ramble.
I would write notes t myself on the butcher's paper where once was a porc chop.
Paper was a luxury especially during the war.
We had erzats paper with pieces of wood still in like splinters in a white sheet reminding us
that all is not well with the world.
I wrote about everything that had happened to me that day and try and hide it.
When you have 4 rooms in a house and only a hand full of drawers where do you hide things?
I did not have a room of my own.
I hid things in the bushes outside or in the rabbit shed. It was dark in there and rats would come to get the babies so Mom was afraid to go in there (I was too) but I had my places under the rabbit shit trays.
If I was found out then I got in trouble.
Writing to one friend when I came to the USA was a constant, she had kept my letters for decades and when my daughter did question my first marriage my friend showed her the letters.
She told her : read for yourself what your mother had to deal with.
In the last 3 years I had an email friend who listened to me every day and every morning there would be a letter to booster me up. She kept me going. Writing kept me going.
That is not to say that it was all peaches and cream.
There was a day that she wrote something like : put a pillow over his head....
Not that I had not thought about it myself more than once.
Most of all I had several ideas in my head about killing both of us, and what stopped me was
very silly, husband's studio was and still is a mess. I did not want to leave that for the kids.
Then one day I thought of burning the house down with us in it but did not have a great plan.
The dog was in the way, could not kill him.
Strange thoughts, you say, for a loving wife.
Judge not until you have walked in my flip flops.
There are days with total exhaustion, total loss of a "normal" mind.
You search for the extremes just to get relief.
Yesterday I was able to write to 2 people in the middle of their caregiving years. I was able to tell them honestly what hell they can expect and what good days will do to them.
I am an open book.
The pages may be dirty from spilled guts but life as a caregiver to a dementia patient is anything but pretty.
A friend of mine said that his mother was so funny and how he loved "visiting" her at his sisters house, it was a hoot he told me. I wanted to strangle him.
You go for a few hours and giggle with Mom and think this is just great?
Did you change her diaper by chance? Did you feed her? Did you watch her all the time to see if
she would harm herself by turning on a stove?
I don't think so.
Enough ramble for today.
I am going to have a great day, I am going to walk the dogs until their little legs fall off.
Oh well, Bijou likes to walk in my arms.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
In case you could not find it:
http://www.wowowow.com/life/13-years-saying-good-bye-alzheimers-disease-jeannot-kensinger-499384
WOWOW
Miss Evans emailed me and asked permission to print a piece from my blog.
When I saw her name in my incoming mail I was trembling.
So I am impressed by people of her stature....
I sent her 2 photos telling our story very well from the day we got married to near the end.
I then let it rest.
I did not think much about it anymore and let it go. My new motto: if you can't do anything about it then let it go. I am trying to do that, not easy, I make up things to worry about.
This morning I get an email from a Facebook pal and she tells me how she loved the article in WOWOW.
Say what?
So I rush to the site , do not know where to look, I put in my name and there it is, not my LAST blog but it was so odd to read my words in that site.
I cried, I was overwhelmed but now at 10 am people are responding. People I have met there since day one.
Someone wrote that she saved my story I had sent her years ago. OMG.
I think that old Bob is watching and smiling.
Thank you WOW , THANK YOU
When I saw her name in my incoming mail I was trembling.
So I am impressed by people of her stature....
I sent her 2 photos telling our story very well from the day we got married to near the end.
I then let it rest.
I did not think much about it anymore and let it go. My new motto: if you can't do anything about it then let it go. I am trying to do that, not easy, I make up things to worry about.
This morning I get an email from a Facebook pal and she tells me how she loved the article in WOWOW.
Say what?
So I rush to the site , do not know where to look, I put in my name and there it is, not my LAST blog but it was so odd to read my words in that site.
I cried, I was overwhelmed but now at 10 am people are responding. People I have met there since day one.
Someone wrote that she saved my story I had sent her years ago. OMG.
I think that old Bob is watching and smiling.
Thank you WOW , THANK YOU
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The last reality check,
So Sabrina reminds me, like I need reminding.
"Mom, we need to pick up daddy's ashes today".
"are you up to that, Mom?"
Of course I am, of course. No small wildflower am I, I am a very strong purple orchid.
I stand tall and do not require much attention (Oh yeah?). Well, not so much lately.
I am telling myself every day that I am STRONG.
Dressed in purple today to do what is asked by the Alzheimer Association on their day.
Sabrina goes into the funeral parlor and I am listening to Sinatra on her new radio
gadget. Boy, does she like gadgets, seems this is a new radio for which you pay.
What will be next, she already has worn out some of these blackberries or is it
a blueberry. Who can keep up with this? Who has the knowledge for this?
Who has the money for this.
While Sinatra is singing I am trying to distract myself with all these questions.
Oh there is Nancy now. She never did have the pipes ...Frank kept them for himself.....
Oh...shoot...there is Sabrina holding a green bag with gold letters on it:
Shuller funeral home".
Do they expect me to go shopping with that bag? Scare everyone at the check out.
Opening of the car door, Sinatra keeps on going after all she paid for him this time...
I try and concentrate on his lyrics but Sabrina will have none of it.
"You want Daddy in the back seat?"She asks.
"No, honey, on my lap".
Reality....I no longer hear the golden voice and I no longer know what to think.
I am holding a very heavy box situated in a useable shopping bag.
Grandson, Mr. Green, would like that.
So I am trying to figure out what I should feel right now.
I caress the box.....no vibes....no one whispering in my ear."It is I, honey, it is I"
I do not find any connection to the green bag and the man I kissed goodbye about 16 days ago.
So this has to be a trick. A horrible trick and I am not going to see him again.
Someone has snatched him away forever.
He promised me he would never leave me except for Rise Stevens, she is dead too.
He probably is asking her to sing to him right now.
Thoughts scramble in my head, I am beginning to wonder if I will ever be normal again.
Sabrina's voice shouts over Sinatra :
"Mom, can we have lunch now?"
"Lunch? Oh yes I need food"
My third or fourth "best friend" is food.
Have the derriere to prove it.
We drive to the restaurant and I suddenly start taking charge again.
Turn to Sabrina and in all earnest ask her:
"Brie , can we leave daddy in this hot car? Do we leave the ac running?"
My gorgeous daughter looks me in the eyes, first with a wondering look and slowly her eyes start to shine and twinkle like they did when she was little and found something very funny.
She burst out laughing like she is never going to be able to stop.
I am in a dream state. What is so funny?
In a mega second I find the answer. I said what?????
So I start to laugh and here we are Brie, Mom, Sinatra and ashes of my loved one in a very cool A/c car and we can't stop laughing and crying all at the same time.
Ashes , ashes, we all fall down from laughter
of course we know that in the game they were referring to the black plague.
We just are not yet used to have daddy in the form of ashes.
He lives in our heart, that is where he is. That is where he belongs.
Good night, Bob, wherever you are.
Watch over me because I am too much in the fog still and I do not want to trip and fall again.
"Mom, we need to pick up daddy's ashes today".
"are you up to that, Mom?"
Of course I am, of course. No small wildflower am I, I am a very strong purple orchid.
I stand tall and do not require much attention (Oh yeah?). Well, not so much lately.
I am telling myself every day that I am STRONG.
Dressed in purple today to do what is asked by the Alzheimer Association on their day.
Sabrina goes into the funeral parlor and I am listening to Sinatra on her new radio
gadget. Boy, does she like gadgets, seems this is a new radio for which you pay.
What will be next, she already has worn out some of these blackberries or is it
a blueberry. Who can keep up with this? Who has the knowledge for this?
Who has the money for this.
While Sinatra is singing I am trying to distract myself with all these questions.
Oh there is Nancy now. She never did have the pipes ...Frank kept them for himself.....
Oh...shoot...there is Sabrina holding a green bag with gold letters on it:
Shuller funeral home".
Do they expect me to go shopping with that bag? Scare everyone at the check out.
Opening of the car door, Sinatra keeps on going after all she paid for him this time...
I try and concentrate on his lyrics but Sabrina will have none of it.
"You want Daddy in the back seat?"She asks.
"No, honey, on my lap".
Reality....I no longer hear the golden voice and I no longer know what to think.
I am holding a very heavy box situated in a useable shopping bag.
Grandson, Mr. Green, would like that.
So I am trying to figure out what I should feel right now.
I caress the box.....no vibes....no one whispering in my ear."It is I, honey, it is I"
I do not find any connection to the green bag and the man I kissed goodbye about 16 days ago.
So this has to be a trick. A horrible trick and I am not going to see him again.
Someone has snatched him away forever.
He promised me he would never leave me except for Rise Stevens, she is dead too.
He probably is asking her to sing to him right now.
Thoughts scramble in my head, I am beginning to wonder if I will ever be normal again.
Sabrina's voice shouts over Sinatra :
"Mom, can we have lunch now?"
"Lunch? Oh yes I need food"
My third or fourth "best friend" is food.
Have the derriere to prove it.
We drive to the restaurant and I suddenly start taking charge again.
Turn to Sabrina and in all earnest ask her:
"Brie , can we leave daddy in this hot car? Do we leave the ac running?"
My gorgeous daughter looks me in the eyes, first with a wondering look and slowly her eyes start to shine and twinkle like they did when she was little and found something very funny.
She burst out laughing like she is never going to be able to stop.
I am in a dream state. What is so funny?
In a mega second I find the answer. I said what?????
So I start to laugh and here we are Brie, Mom, Sinatra and ashes of my loved one in a very cool A/c car and we can't stop laughing and crying all at the same time.
Ashes , ashes, we all fall down from laughter
of course we know that in the game they were referring to the black plague.
We just are not yet used to have daddy in the form of ashes.
He lives in our heart, that is where he is. That is where he belongs.
Good night, Bob, wherever you are.
Watch over me because I am too much in the fog still and I do not want to trip and fall again.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Two weeks do make a difference.
I am somewhat like the phoenix coming out of the ashes.
Renewal.
Survival.
clearing the mind of unpleasant clutter.
cleaning the cupboards
cleaning out what was not used in years.
Hospice here we come.
Getting my office/workroom in order for the jewelry making.
Must start next week in all seriousness.
How do I rebound so fast?
I have it figured out.
At the beginning of Bob's disease I was in denial yet I knew we were in trouble.
I tried to ignore all he forgot.
Slowly he became my obssession.
I got up and first thought was Alzheimer, went to bed and last thought: He has Alzheimer.
Slowly, ever so slowly he left us as his mental state became reduced to first
sentences which made no sense, then fewer words , and the mostly silence unless he
became angry then he could spout out stuff I never heard him say in 40 years.
Like the clock ticking loudly you notice things, this is different today and that was different
from last week.
The man vanishes, memories fail him , anxiety becomes his companion.
I have good days and bad days.
People tell me at least once a day:
"Remember it is not your husband anymore, it is the disease."
I want to punch the speaker in the face. I want to be violent , I want to scream.
Instead I go inside my head and try for the hundred time what this really means.
"It is not your husband" well wtf explain that one to me.
He is there in front of me , in the flesh.
"It is the disease" oh that is a great excuse for bad behavior.
I can ponder that statement all day but I can't wrap my head around it.
Just words. I miss my husband, bring him back, all just words from
people who do not live with him. Words, words.
For 13 years I miss him more and more every day.
He leaves me one thought at a time.
He wants to be hugged and then the next day pushes me away.
I miss him.
There are days when he looks at me with a question mark in his eyes.
"Who are you?"
I miss him.
There are days that he hits me because I want to wash him.
He was the forever gentle man. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought
about hitting me.
I miss him, the old one.
13 years of saying goodbye, that is a lot of goodbyes.
Then comes March and I break my ankle.
I can't take care of him anymore.
I want to, "they" the new powers at hand tell me that I
need to recuperate, I need to take care of myself.
Shock City! Take care of me. How do I do that?
I have not given much thought about me but to put food in
my body and watch him 24/7 and walk the dog.
That is my life.
Wake up and feel if he is ok and if he is in bed with me.
That is my life.
Changing and washing the bedding daily that is my life.
Cooking sometimes 3 different things so he will eat
that is my life. I then eat what he does not want.
I hate waste.
Looking in the mirror , fix my hair, wear lipstick?
are you kidding me?
I can't stand to look at that old woman who has aged
20 years in the last ten.
I can't bare to look at her eyes, they are always so damn sad.
When I look into her eyes then I feel the pain even more
and cry like a bubbling idiot.
So after my rehab I come home and he is no longer there.
The bed feels very strange, after 42 years to sleep alone in a queen size bed
is like being lost at sea. Where is he? I touch the sheets and he is nowhere.
I picture him on the low small bed at the center and I cry.
I want him home.
Well, they tell me, you want that struggle again with his sanitary
habits? With his running out evry five minutes.
You can hardly walk and you want that?
So I start getting used to the fact that I have a lot less laundry
a lot less cooking to be done.
A lot more sleep.
I heal , my leg is improving every day.
Oh I miss him so much.
I do not even want to eat at the table anymore
I have gotten used to eating by my computer.
The computer is my friend.
emails cheer me up.
We are with you they say, we love you.
After six months to the date
my best friend leaves the nursing home in a bag.
He no longr needs nurses, no longer needs me
the kids, or his sibblings.
I am a widow.
I just hate that name, hate it.
It sounds Victorian to me, similar to a spinster.
A widow. It will take getting used to.
We are now 2 weeks later.
I feel differently and it is hard to explain.
In some ways I feel free.
Nothing to worry about anymore for Bob. Not going to
the nursing home. Checking for bed sores, checking his
clothing ordering hair cuts, little bit of this and a little
bit of that. Make sure to always have bananas for him.
All this is slowly vanishing from my mind.
No, not to do list anymore.
The leg is getting better every day, less swelling.
The psoriasis is rampant, sign of stress but I am so
calm!
I start to make plans.
I start to order beads, wires, mini tools, and I dream
of making jewelry again like we did in 1970.
I am rusty.
New stuff I never heard off is now available.
What we did with out fingers now a little machine can do.
I have a work bench so not to have the table cluttered
with beads and they may show up in the meatballs.
Son , Bob, helps me.
I need to get the yard ready for winter,
plan for the birds, find time to plant tulips which I
did not do the last 2 years.
I am feeling good when I wake up.
I look at my companion, my Maltese Bijou, and I
smile at his big black eyes begging me to take
him out.
It is fall, the chestnuts are dropping as the squirrels
are chewing the stems off. I gather what is left
while Bijou barks at everything. He is now my protector.
A butterfly comes to say hello.
I talk to old Bob wherever he is and I
thank him for the great married life he gave me.
He has to know that I will love him not until death us do part
but this kind of love I have is forever.
Renewal.
Survival.
clearing the mind of unpleasant clutter.
cleaning the cupboards
cleaning out what was not used in years.
Hospice here we come.
Getting my office/workroom in order for the jewelry making.
Must start next week in all seriousness.
How do I rebound so fast?
I have it figured out.
At the beginning of Bob's disease I was in denial yet I knew we were in trouble.
I tried to ignore all he forgot.
Slowly he became my obssession.
I got up and first thought was Alzheimer, went to bed and last thought: He has Alzheimer.
Slowly, ever so slowly he left us as his mental state became reduced to first
sentences which made no sense, then fewer words , and the mostly silence unless he
became angry then he could spout out stuff I never heard him say in 40 years.
Like the clock ticking loudly you notice things, this is different today and that was different
from last week.
The man vanishes, memories fail him , anxiety becomes his companion.
I have good days and bad days.
People tell me at least once a day:
"Remember it is not your husband anymore, it is the disease."
I want to punch the speaker in the face. I want to be violent , I want to scream.
Instead I go inside my head and try for the hundred time what this really means.
"It is not your husband" well wtf explain that one to me.
He is there in front of me , in the flesh.
"It is the disease" oh that is a great excuse for bad behavior.
I can ponder that statement all day but I can't wrap my head around it.
Just words. I miss my husband, bring him back, all just words from
people who do not live with him. Words, words.
For 13 years I miss him more and more every day.
He leaves me one thought at a time.
He wants to be hugged and then the next day pushes me away.
I miss him.
There are days when he looks at me with a question mark in his eyes.
"Who are you?"
I miss him.
There are days that he hits me because I want to wash him.
He was the forever gentle man. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought
about hitting me.
I miss him, the old one.
13 years of saying goodbye, that is a lot of goodbyes.
Then comes March and I break my ankle.
I can't take care of him anymore.
I want to, "they" the new powers at hand tell me that I
need to recuperate, I need to take care of myself.
Shock City! Take care of me. How do I do that?
I have not given much thought about me but to put food in
my body and watch him 24/7 and walk the dog.
That is my life.
Wake up and feel if he is ok and if he is in bed with me.
That is my life.
Changing and washing the bedding daily that is my life.
Cooking sometimes 3 different things so he will eat
that is my life. I then eat what he does not want.
I hate waste.
Looking in the mirror , fix my hair, wear lipstick?
are you kidding me?
I can't stand to look at that old woman who has aged
20 years in the last ten.
I can't bare to look at her eyes, they are always so damn sad.
When I look into her eyes then I feel the pain even more
and cry like a bubbling idiot.
So after my rehab I come home and he is no longer there.
The bed feels very strange, after 42 years to sleep alone in a queen size bed
is like being lost at sea. Where is he? I touch the sheets and he is nowhere.
I picture him on the low small bed at the center and I cry.
I want him home.
Well, they tell me, you want that struggle again with his sanitary
habits? With his running out evry five minutes.
You can hardly walk and you want that?
So I start getting used to the fact that I have a lot less laundry
a lot less cooking to be done.
A lot more sleep.
I heal , my leg is improving every day.
Oh I miss him so much.
I do not even want to eat at the table anymore
I have gotten used to eating by my computer.
The computer is my friend.
emails cheer me up.
We are with you they say, we love you.
After six months to the date
my best friend leaves the nursing home in a bag.
He no longr needs nurses, no longer needs me
the kids, or his sibblings.
I am a widow.
I just hate that name, hate it.
It sounds Victorian to me, similar to a spinster.
A widow. It will take getting used to.
We are now 2 weeks later.
I feel differently and it is hard to explain.
In some ways I feel free.
Nothing to worry about anymore for Bob. Not going to
the nursing home. Checking for bed sores, checking his
clothing ordering hair cuts, little bit of this and a little
bit of that. Make sure to always have bananas for him.
All this is slowly vanishing from my mind.
No, not to do list anymore.
The leg is getting better every day, less swelling.
The psoriasis is rampant, sign of stress but I am so
calm!
I start to make plans.
I start to order beads, wires, mini tools, and I dream
of making jewelry again like we did in 1970.
I am rusty.
New stuff I never heard off is now available.
What we did with out fingers now a little machine can do.
I have a work bench so not to have the table cluttered
with beads and they may show up in the meatballs.
Son , Bob, helps me.
I need to get the yard ready for winter,
plan for the birds, find time to plant tulips which I
did not do the last 2 years.
I am feeling good when I wake up.
I look at my companion, my Maltese Bijou, and I
smile at his big black eyes begging me to take
him out.
It is fall, the chestnuts are dropping as the squirrels
are chewing the stems off. I gather what is left
while Bijou barks at everything. He is now my protector.
A butterfly comes to say hello.
I talk to old Bob wherever he is and I
thank him for the great married life he gave me.
He has to know that I will love him not until death us do part
but this kind of love I have is forever.
Friday, September 10, 2010
And then the end
The last month has been one of continual anxiety. Bob would eat a bit one day then he gave up the next to even drink water.
This went back and forth. Then he was not able to walk anymore or did not even try. Sabrina slept with her phone next to her, I jumped with every bark of the 3 dogs. Sabrina was to be alerted if anything was happening. She would come and tell me.
We were all on pins and needles hoping Bob would be able to make the transition in comfort, hoping he could leave his world of unknowns.
Yet, every time I saw him I did not want him to go. It is so hard to see him like that and yet selfishly wanting to continue t hold his hands and kiss him even when he is not aware of it ( as we think we know).
Months ago I had planned a trip to my friends house in the Berkshires. She is 80 and we have known each other for 53 years. We are more than sisters.
Sabrina had a long week end for labor day so we decided that would be the best time to go. I can't travel alone anymore, I hear very little even with a hearing aid and when I am stressed the hearing shuts down altogether.
Then came a call that perhaps we should hire Hospice to help at the nursing center. We three Kensinger women went to sign him up.
It was August 31. The nurse said that
he could last 2 days but also 2 weeks since he still did not show any signs besides losing the weight.
There we sat all of us at the table trying to know that this was real.
He had almost died in March at the Va hospital. Then he did not want to eat at one nursing center. Then he ate. Then he picked up and walked halls like a runner in Golden Living. Then he would start resting and did not look good and I cried my eyes out and thought I would never see him again. The nurse came in and said : Honey right now he is healthier than I am. He has a very strong heart. I did not believe her but the next day he is up and running again.
They loved him there, he kissed the old ladies hands and teased the young nurses.
So, was this for real? A Hospice nurse does what? we asked. We tried to swallow all that info. Then I asked my question which had kept me awake many night before:
Can we go on this trip, will he last over the week end? No one could answer that with any certainty.
At the end the answer had to come from me.
I had been there for him until I broke my ankle, I never wanted him in a nursing home but my injury forced us.
I did not want him to die alone but then how could I and the girls keep vigil all the time?
I asked Rhonda is she could take over for the week end. It would be an honor she said. And that she did.
Sabrina and I left for Mass. I had said goodbye again but I knew it might be the last time.
When you take care of someone for 13 years y9ou say goodbye when they forget who the dog is. When they forget how to open a door, when they forget how to wash and then slap you when you want to wash him. I said goodbye a thousand times, he did not know the grandkids, hated them, did not know his own kids, then did not know me.
Did not remember his mother, his sibblings. Did not know what snow was.
When all this vanishes day by day I said "goodbye Bob, my man is no longer here, a stranger is taking over the body of my best friend".
I decided to leave with Sabrina and Rhonda took up vigil for 3 nights and days, she was holding his hands when he left. She had candles in the room, had played operas, Christmas music, and read to his unconscious body.
The hospice nurse told hr it looked like a regular house room in there.
Rhonda said I forgot the rug. She also had his paintings and all our photos on the wall.
He had pointed to my photo early in the week, now he was asleep.
Bob's wishes as are mine, was to have a cremation and then scatter him in the mountains.
Then we had calls from the Western branch of Kensingers, they suggested a military funeral....say what? Bob was so anti military and had left the service
in 1945. His brother Earl should have had a glorious sent off as he was a war hero, he was a marauder. To my recollection he did not get that.
Needless to say I was a sudden vilain for leaving my husband. Did anybody every ask me if I needed help? did anyone come to see him in the 13 years? So why give me grief now?
His wishes are being done. Basta.
I have known that man for 42 years, we worked 24/7 together. We knew each other like we were having one vein running through both our bodies. We were one. Good times and bad times, we were one. We struggled together, we had fun together, we loved the kids together and the grandkids.
Well I am getting angry at the things said to us so I am going to close this blog for today, I am not yet finished with his life. Honors will come to him with a one man show and then we can again celebrate his life.
This went back and forth. Then he was not able to walk anymore or did not even try. Sabrina slept with her phone next to her, I jumped with every bark of the 3 dogs. Sabrina was to be alerted if anything was happening. She would come and tell me.
We were all on pins and needles hoping Bob would be able to make the transition in comfort, hoping he could leave his world of unknowns.
Yet, every time I saw him I did not want him to go. It is so hard to see him like that and yet selfishly wanting to continue t hold his hands and kiss him even when he is not aware of it ( as we think we know).
Months ago I had planned a trip to my friends house in the Berkshires. She is 80 and we have known each other for 53 years. We are more than sisters.
Sabrina had a long week end for labor day so we decided that would be the best time to go. I can't travel alone anymore, I hear very little even with a hearing aid and when I am stressed the hearing shuts down altogether.
Then came a call that perhaps we should hire Hospice to help at the nursing center. We three Kensinger women went to sign him up.
It was August 31. The nurse said that
he could last 2 days but also 2 weeks since he still did not show any signs besides losing the weight.
There we sat all of us at the table trying to know that this was real.
He had almost died in March at the Va hospital. Then he did not want to eat at one nursing center. Then he ate. Then he picked up and walked halls like a runner in Golden Living. Then he would start resting and did not look good and I cried my eyes out and thought I would never see him again. The nurse came in and said : Honey right now he is healthier than I am. He has a very strong heart. I did not believe her but the next day he is up and running again.
They loved him there, he kissed the old ladies hands and teased the young nurses.
So, was this for real? A Hospice nurse does what? we asked. We tried to swallow all that info. Then I asked my question which had kept me awake many night before:
Can we go on this trip, will he last over the week end? No one could answer that with any certainty.
At the end the answer had to come from me.
I had been there for him until I broke my ankle, I never wanted him in a nursing home but my injury forced us.
I did not want him to die alone but then how could I and the girls keep vigil all the time?
I asked Rhonda is she could take over for the week end. It would be an honor she said. And that she did.
Sabrina and I left for Mass. I had said goodbye again but I knew it might be the last time.
When you take care of someone for 13 years y9ou say goodbye when they forget who the dog is. When they forget how to open a door, when they forget how to wash and then slap you when you want to wash him. I said goodbye a thousand times, he did not know the grandkids, hated them, did not know his own kids, then did not know me.
Did not remember his mother, his sibblings. Did not know what snow was.
When all this vanishes day by day I said "goodbye Bob, my man is no longer here, a stranger is taking over the body of my best friend".
I decided to leave with Sabrina and Rhonda took up vigil for 3 nights and days, she was holding his hands when he left. She had candles in the room, had played operas, Christmas music, and read to his unconscious body.
The hospice nurse told hr it looked like a regular house room in there.
Rhonda said I forgot the rug. She also had his paintings and all our photos on the wall.
He had pointed to my photo early in the week, now he was asleep.
Bob's wishes as are mine, was to have a cremation and then scatter him in the mountains.
Then we had calls from the Western branch of Kensingers, they suggested a military funeral....say what? Bob was so anti military and had left the service
in 1945. His brother Earl should have had a glorious sent off as he was a war hero, he was a marauder. To my recollection he did not get that.
Needless to say I was a sudden vilain for leaving my husband. Did anybody every ask me if I needed help? did anyone come to see him in the 13 years? So why give me grief now?
His wishes are being done. Basta.
I have known that man for 42 years, we worked 24/7 together. We knew each other like we were having one vein running through both our bodies. We were one. Good times and bad times, we were one. We struggled together, we had fun together, we loved the kids together and the grandkids.
Well I am getting angry at the things said to us so I am going to close this blog for today, I am not yet finished with his life. Honors will come to him with a one man show and then we can again celebrate his life.
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