ARRIVALS AND DEPARTURES

On very few occasions, I am totally lost for words.  Most people who know me laugh, and emphasise that if there is one thing I am not, it is verbosely challenged! I am somewhat famous (or infamous) for using a dozen or more words when one will do.  However, this is one of those times when I am quite frankly, almost (almost) struck dumb.

Not to make light of the matter, but it was one of my first thoughts when it happened, I am now an orphan.  Obviously, at my age, it is going to be inevitable that it will happen within the next decade, if not sooner, especially when a parent is a nonagenarian.  My mother passed away last Sunday evening, or Monday morning as it was in England.  

Mum had been hospitalised the day after her birthday, and although at first completely disorientated, the following weekend had been quite lucid, telling me that my sister had gone to visit my nephew, and that my great-niece was in a play which they were going to see.  She remembered all the names and places.  As frail as my mother was, she had always managed to bounce back, or at least had bounced back once she was home.  This time, the nursing staff were far more attentive and caring. Last time she only recovered when home, and I have no issues about blaming the system, having encountered their lack of professionalism and duty.  However, the red tape with which one had to contend made sure there was no recourse.  This time the staff were, for the most part, quite delightful and I believe, caring.  

My sister, who if I had my way would be ordained a saint, had to deal with the lady who had long since been 'our mum'.  She had become somewhat demanding an self-centered, something that she never was.  I remember winning her a prize for being 'the best mum', quoting the reason as being rather simple.  She always had the burnt piece of toast, the overripe banana, and the egg with the broken yoke. Her reasoning was that she was 'a mum' and that was what mum's did!  The last few days had been an added strain on my sister, and I could only empathise, having been part of something amazing with the birth of my third grandson.  

Monday was somewhat of a blur.  Samantha had been to the paediatrician, who had examined the baby and was concerned about his jaundice levels.  My sister had been organising a funeral.  I was in somewhat of a quandary.  I knew that in ordinary circumstances, I should be the big sister to the little one, but I also needed to be a mother to my daughter, and was quite torn.  My son, who has the wisest head on any young shoulders I know, saved my day and put things into perspective for me.  I had checked into flights home, first thing Monday, and baring the fact that they were going to be be astronomically expensive, (which was something I perhaps would have dealt with at another time,) there was little prospect of me landing and being at the funeral on time.  

Receiving a call on Monday morning from the chairman of our homeowners association was a little bit of a surprise. We normally all communicate by email unless there is an emergency.  It appears that one of our residents was not happy with some work that was being carried out and had made a bit of a scene. Sometimes it is like living in a soap opera!  Our board has a chairman, secretary, treasurer and vice-chairman, like many others.  I have been designated, what we would call in England, Minister without portfolio! I am often asked to 'smooth it over' as I am 'nice'. I find this amusing, but it has happened on more than one occasion. "Can you talk to her?" requested our chairman.  I was a little dumbfounded. I was also a little over-emotional and said that ordinarily I would, but I did not think I could achieve the desired effect.  My daughter had just had a baby, and my mother passed away this morning.  "I am sorry, must be a bad line. I thought you said your daughter has just had a baby and your mum passed away this morning".  I replied that he had heard correctly.  The profuse apologies came spilling down the phone, and I had to let the poor man know that it was not necessary, but I just couldn't handle another 'emotional' woman.  Towards the end of the day, I did receive a 'group' email to say all was well!

Receiving an inordinate amount of messages was somewhat of a comfort.  As I said, our mum had not really been our mum for sometime, but the lady (and she was very much a lady) whom all my friends knew, was our mum.  All the messages were full of wonderful words and memories that brought back who she really was

I do not remember much about Monday afternoon, nor evening.  I did not sleep as I was waiting for a phone call.  I am not sure from whom the call was going to be, but the last week had been somewhat filled with calls at hours during which I did not expect.  My phone did not ring.

Travelling across county lines to my daughter on Tuesday morning took longer than expected.  The traffic was not overly heavy, but the lights were against me, turning a deep hue of crimson each time I reached a crossroad.  A stillness had enveloped me and I could not feel joy or sorrow.  As I entered my daughter's house, and sat waiting for the call from my son, which came just before seven, I realised that if I had gone home, and arrived on time, Samantha would be sitting alone, watching the entire family gather to mourn, having to immediately get ready for a doctor's appointment.

My nephew gave a eulogy, which apparently encompassed all the grandchildren's memories.  Richard and my niece, Emma, were both going to say something, but when they heard my nephew's words, they realised that they were all going to say virtually the same thing.  They remembered their 'Grams' as a glamourous lady, who was always dressed for the occasion, who lit up a room when she entered because of her poise and elegance.  They remember her being an amazing cook, who would feed them the most scrumptious desserts and then insist they have more.  A hostess to compete with none!  She was simply, to them, 'The best'!  It was beautiful and reminded me of our mum.  As the people walked to the graveside, a cloud in the shape of a heart could be seen in the beautiful December sky.  A gift!

The baby's jaundice levels were still higher than the doctor would have liked and a third appointment was made.  It was almost like a confirmation that I had made the right decision to be with Samantha, although I would have preferred the baby to have an 'all clear' rather than the alternative to satisfy my own predicament.  

Thankfully, by Wednesday, the levels of jaundice were acceptable.  Although higher than they had wanted, they had been decreasing each day and that meant they were going in the right direction, and the little one was sent home with an appointment in a week.  The relief was obvious to all.  I was still feeling a little numb as I had not yet processed the loss of my mother.  During the past two weeks or so, I had either been speaking to my sister, or the hospital at the time when I usually rang mum, and I would experience a thought around eleven in the morning, thinking that I should ring her.  With the joy of a new grandson, I could not process the grief.  I felt guilty for feeling the joy, but then not so, as life goes on.  As harsh as it may sound, it is 'life'.  

As the weekend came around, the baby was showing more and more signs of being aware of his surroundings.  The dogs, who at first were rather boisterous, had settled down, and although wanting desperately to play with him, were (for the first time ever, I think) responding to commands of 'down!'  Dana and I had returned them last Sunday evening, so that the new family could 'bond' quickly.  

Shopping on Saturday was rather amusing.  "It's Grandma's privilege to push the pram" said my daughter as she took the trolley (cart) from me and let me take the handles of the stroller.  Dressed in jeans, boots and a Stetson, the Englishwoman was pushing her natural born Texan citizen!  I wondered if he would wear the garb when he was old enough to decide for himself!

Teddy, as he has been named, was due to be born on this coming Wednesday.  Arriving two weeks early was obviously a good thing, as my mum did get to hear of his arrival, whether she was lucid or not.  I can only hope that she understood that the long wait for this grandchild was finally over.  She passed with six great grandchildren and one due in January.  A fair legacy!  I would also like to thank all those people who congratulated me after the post I put up last week. It was greatly appreciated, and hope you accept my apologies for not responding due to 'other' circumstances.  

Life will never be the same, for many reasons, but life does go on.  I will go home at some stage, so that my sister and I can sort through things and hopefully share some lovely memories, which we have been doing through photos found in various pockets of my mum's house.  We have already swapped some photos that we found, and were reminiscing about our childhood.

When I finished writing last week, I said there was not much planned for the following week.  How wrong I was!  Although it was not planned, there was much going on!  I am hoping that next week will not be as congested!  A quiet week perhaps?  I can only hope for a week of level emotions and no more surprises.  I can only hope for happiness and joy in .......... another story!