Cloudy and rainy fall weather

I am in the process of writing thank you notes after my mother's death. My mother was one of 10 children so I have many aunts, uncles and cousins along with friends, coworkers and neighbors. My brother and sister helped; I have a dozen or so to go, but I am sure more memorial gifts will come in. My friend at the hospital said that she prayed when she was writing thank you notes after her mother's death, "Lord, you take care of the quality. I'll take care of the quantity." I'm sure the prayer helped especially with the notes to my daughter and son's friends. I wrote them from a different perspective. Otherwise, the notes would have been flat. I hope that there are not too many mistakes--names mispelled, forgotten gifts. I called my uncle yesterday to ask if any of his cousins had come. He couldn't think of any, but at the Mass someone said that she "remembered me wearing my mother's wedding dress." I am clueless, so I hope the Lord provides enlightenment. Rainly and gloomy here. A hot tea kind of day.

Need acceptance

Been running around all over this morning. First, I had to do some banking for my dad. Then drive 30 miles to get two letters from the post office. I had written thank you notes to my sister's and my mutual friends, and she wants to write them. So I picked mine up, shredded them and put them in the recycle. I filled the car with gas and picked up two racks of ribs from the meat department. I also purchased a new cranberry winter coat as the zipper in my ages-old coat is broken. Nice weatherproof coat, cranberry color, with a warm zippered insert and button outer layer with hood. Am home now, making white chili for lunch. Comforting on this rainy cold day, or it will be once it's done. I am abandoning my husband, and heading out to a restaurant with two friends later this evening. Dealing with difficult family members and friends has made me very sad. My mentally ill friend is self centered and focused only on herself. I feel that with regard to my sister, everything I do is wrong. For the past many years, she has found fault with most everything I do. My husband and his interests are #1 on his list. I need to be with friends who accept me for who I am, blemishes and all.

Debaucle

I wrote and mailed thank you notes to two friends that my sister and I have in common. She wants to write these notes, so I asked the post office to hold delivery. The thank you letters have not arrived to the post office yet, perhaps tomorrow. I had a terrible night, tears running down my face most of the dark hours. I was searching my brain, trying to think of someone I could use as a sounding board. I decided that I would stop at the branch flower shop and talk with my friend, the store manager, after my riding lesson. The lesson was difficult as I was on a new horse and he limps. My arms flew all over, my toes would not stay in the stirrup. I finally get it all together by the end of the lesson. I tried to buy a saddle, but it would fit the horse. I will put that idea on hold for now. I just wanted my own to save prep time as I have to roll the leather on the stirrup and it took my teacher and me four times to get it right. Rebecca and her horse Annaliese and Roberta and her horse Ciarra have appointments for their horses to be seen by a horse chiropractor. I will be using school horses, no desire to own my own horse. I had hoped that I would be cantering by now because I wanted to compete in test C next year. I am afraid that I will get lower scores and not place if I do the same tests next summer. I entered the store the same time as a customer (dressed in riding breeches and tee shirt). The customer wanted two pin on corsages. The branch manager suffers from arthritis, so I made them for the customer. After the customer left, the branch manager and I talked. She mentioned that everyone grieves differently, that some people feel guilty, that some people treat family closest to them the worst. I don't know, but I have certainly been treated badly by people that have low frustration levels. I make mistakes but do everything I can to make it right, such as driving to my post office and then to the post office where my friends live. Husband and I had dinner with my dad today. He and my sister had spent 12 hours at the doctor's office yesterday so that he could have an iron infusion. He enjoyed the visit, talking about his collection and golf. It warded off the loneliness for awhile. The picture is my friend, Aroo. I give him carrots and apples every Tuesday. Nothing like soft warm fur coats to chase grief away.

Gifts my mother gave me

Memories of my mother that I haven't thought of in a long time come to mind. It is fall here and that reminded me of my mother hanging clothes to dry on the clothesline. My dad had built us a storage/shed playhouse in the backyard. We stored bikes, wagons and other toys in the playhouse. My brother, sister and I would drag all the things out of the playhouse and make cupcakes with mud, water and leaves. My mother loved to wear big hats with flowers on them. She was quite intimidating with her bouffant hair and a large floral hat, suit and heels. When I first saw her at the funeral home, she didn't look like herself. However as time passed, my gaze softened her features and she resembled her living self. I understand that my dad is making a list, dispensing his possessions. For instance, my sister will get his car, my brother inherits guns and something else, my mother's ring comes to me. Immediately after my mother passed, I couldn't remember gifts she had given to me. But as time passed, I realized that my parents gave us our stoneware dishes that we use everyday. She had gone to a neighborhood garage sale and bought me a pincushion in a lamp shape. She went to a craft show up north and bought me a silk arrangement with a candle. The gifts she gave me with such love mean the world to me.

Sent my aunt some flowers

My coworkers gave my family a beautiful sympathy card and gift card. Today my daughter and her boyfriend, my youngest daughter, son, husband and I are going out for dinner. I am not really in the mood for pasta, but I'm sure there will be other choices, perhaps bread and a salad. I was taking a funeral order and confused the elderly woman because I thought the order was for someone other than her brother, another person altogether. I feel badly, making a difficult time even harder. I need to clarify names, listen better. Then there was another call, a woman at the cemetery wondering where her fall plants were. We didn't know the family was coming at a specific time today to take pictures, the service is tomorrow. So many issues. Yesterday there was a problem because our delivery driver left some roses at a place of business. The sender wanted the gift taken to a home if the recipient left work early. Late in the day, we ran the roses to her house after already dropping off roses to her work. On a happier note, I called a flower shop in the city where my elderly uncle and aunt live. I asked the designer to make an arrangement in a novelty container. She thought she might have a birdhouse or wheelbarrow. Something for my aunt who has dementia to talk about and enjoy. More exciting than flowers in a glass vase. The woman told me that her flowers come fedex from 150 miles away. Crazy! I will have to borrow my aunt for a mother, since my own has passed on. Talked to my dad last night and he was exhausted. He had trimmed a hedge the day before and worn himself out.

Vacation needed

I ordered more thank you notes today from the funeral home. Hopefully, someone can pick them up as I will be working. Maybe if I address all the envelopes, put stamps and return address labels on them, perhaps it would expedite things? Dad is getting antsy, wants to get things in order. He has an iron infusion on Monday and hopes to make an appointment with his doctor and that she will recommend home care. Perhaps my mother's former aide can help. I have stopped reading the facebook page of the little baby that died from the chromosomal disorder. Funny thing to do immediately after sending the family flowers. But two of the posts were about fundraisers and reading the entries "does not serve a useful purpose" any more. My friend, who lives in a group home, needs comfort food, wants me to bring her Lay's potato chips. Really! I met my sister for lunch yesterday and we conversed well. I guess I was overly sensitive the day she called. Work was busy...I had to change the water in the buckets, cut the stems, add new flowers, take corsage and boutonniere orders for homecoming, sell bouquets and take orders. A customer came into the store to buy cards. She had taken her elderly client to the garage to get her car fixed. The client told her to go the the coffee shop and bring "tea, sweetener and a spoon." The aide said she needed a vacation.

Stomach pains and bravery

Since my mother got sick, I have not slept well and my stomach has been hurting, so I really can't eat well either. The stomach issue has been a problem because, no matter how inocuous the food I eat, however bland it is, at the first bite, I have terrible stomach cramps. I'm sure it is because of the stress of the last couple weeks. I have been dealing with the pain. I now know for certain that my mentally ill friend is manipulative. For the last few days, when she called, she has been sounding depressed. We set up a luncheon date where I take her to lunch and then to the grocery store. Last night she called and guess what? She doesn't sound depressed any more! She suggested that we add trips to the library and fabric store for canvas and needles. I told her that lunch and grocery store are enough, that the head of the group home could take her to the library and fabric store. I am annoyed with myself for giving in to her manipulations and I don't want to spend money at the fabric store. I am already paying for lunch and snacks and it is expensive. I could kick myself for giving in to her manipulations. My mother was very brave. She was a big woman and she had mobility issues. Every morning she would say, "I guess it's time for me to get up now." She would wait a few more minutes and then repeat herself. She would sit up on the bed and someone would help her stand. She walked with her walker into the bathroom and then into the living room to her lift chair. We would turn on the lamp by her chair. I would see light in the shade as I drove by and know that it was on for my mother. It took so much courage to walk because she was afraid that she would fall. And she did fall a few times and dad would use the hoyer lift to help her to into her wheelchair and then into her lift chair. She had to take several medications. A lot of big capsules. She would try several times to swallow these pills and I could see that it was difficult. But she kept on trying. Many of my mother's brothers and sisters wrote notes about the compassionate care that my dad provided for my mother so that she could stay at home. I feel the weight of trying to write thank you notes to all the people who shared this sad time with us. It's difficult because I have words in my head but I can't transfer the words to paper. I re-read what I've written and the words don't make sense.