Mimi

Mimi –  It’s what her adorable grandchildren call her.
I wrote about her HERE when the 5th was born a few years ago.

I call her Evelyn.
She was assigned to be my CCD teacher’s aide randomly.
Or maybe not so random?
I believe now it was more of Divine Providence at work,
knowing I needed someone like Evelyn in my life,
maybe Mary.
Evelyn had such a devotion to Mary, the Blessed Mother of Jesus.

I was in my late 30s, she in her early 50s.
I had a 4th grader and a 7th grader, both girls.
She had a married son, a daughter in her 30s and a son finishing grad school.
I learned so much from being with her.

I learned, through her actions, how devoted she was to her husband.
“Too June Cleaver for me” others might judge.
But I appreciated someone showing how to be supportive of a smart businessman.

I learned, through her actions, about beauty.
She was traveling in France when my oldest graduated high school.
The biggest, most exquisite bouquet of flowers arrived from her.
I can still see that vase on the coffee table, its beauty filling my small, little house.
Thinking now, their exquisiteness matched my oldest’s dreams.
She was headed to an Ivy league school to an world bigger than one I knew.
Evelyn’s flowers were the perfect foreshadowing.
Evelyn’s travels were the perfect foreshadowing of my youngest who lives in France now.

As the years went on, we stayed friends.
I loved being invited over for brunch.
I loved being in her bright, warm home.
I loved sipping tea and eating her simple brunch fare.
I loved hearing about her grandkids and sharing photos.
We both had a LOVE of books.
She’d share The New York Times Bestselling list with me.
I’d share the latest read-aloud picture books her grandkids would enjoy.

Her illness manifested first through her lack of words.
She just couldn’t retrieve the word at the end of the sentence.
Soon, only a word at a time would come.
I wrote about one such time HERE.

Last week, she took a turn for the worst.
A hospital bed was placed in the first floor study.
She comfortably slept in her favorite room in her house.
Surrounded by her family and her books.

I had the pleasure of sitting with her twice.
Bringing her an exquisite small vase of flowers.
Holding her hand.
Praying the rosary.
Reading to her poetry.

In her end, she taught me what really matter in life:
Being surrounded by beauty.
Family and friends to hold your hand.
Belief in things bigger than yourself.
And stories to read and share.

Thank you, Evelyn.
I’m better for having know you.

Funeral Notice

Evelyn

Ding dong. Ding dong.

I heard the sound and out of habit, set down my cup of coffee on the kitchen table and turned my head toward the front door.

Ding dong. Ding dong.

The sound again. Out of habit I got up and shuffled out of the kitchen, passed the dining room and and walked to the front door. I could see a woman smiling and waving hello through the window panes along the side the door. I raised my hand and mimicked the actions of the lady and smiled back at her. Then I pulled open the door and heard the woman said, “Hi, Evelyn. I’m so glad you are home. I brought pictures to show you from Anne’s graduation.”

This lady knows my name, I thought. I wish I knew who she was, I thought. This lady is smiling. Maybe she’s a friend of Michelle’s. I wanted to explain how Michelle was out, I think at the grocery store. But the only words I was able to force out of my mouth were, “Michelle…Michelle…out” in a stuttered manner.

The smiling woman, holding a small photo album in her hand said, “That’s okay. I came to show you my pictures from Anne’s graduation from UVA” and she started walking toward the kitchen. I followed this lady who seemed to know her way around my home.

We sat next to each other on the bar stools at the kitchen island and the lady showed me photo after photo of people posing. One was wearing a black robe and the lady called her Anne. “Isn’t Anne a happy UVA graduate!”

“Happy,” I parroted.

I pulled the photo album closer to my face. I saw a building in the background with a round, white roof. I remember that big building. I’ve been to that building. I just can’t remember what to call it. Then I remembered. It’s where Michelle went to college. I smiled and three letters escaped my mouth. “UVA.”

“Yep, just like your Michelle, my Anne’s a UVA graduate!” the woman said proudly.

Just then the sound of the front door opening could be heard. “I’m back,” a voice called. Once in the kitchen, she said, “Sally, it’s so good to see you.”

“I came to show your mom the pictures from Anne’s graduation,” the lady said.

“Oh, let me see,” and I handed my daughter the photo album.

Then I thought, “Michelle called her Sally…she must  be a friend. I wish I could remember. How come everyone around me remembers and I can’t? How come everyone around me can talk easily and I can’t?”

I folded my hands tightly in my lap and looked from Michelle to the woman and smiled.

________________________________________________________________________________

NOTE: I wrote this story HERE on July 21, 2015 entitled The Visitor. Then I have a narrator telling the story. I rewrote it today from Evelyn’s point of view. This was inspired by my friend, Fran M., who has written a similar story in this manner. Special thanks to another friend who gave me a peer conference and told me clearly, “If you want it to be 1st person, you have to use I.” Duh! But honestly, I needed that explicit feedback. This reminds me that as a teacher, we can’t assume they know how to write in 1st person and 3rd person and the explicit feedback helps. It definitely helped me. Thanks, Beth!

2050

It’s Tuesday and I want to write and post and read other’s writing and leave comments. It is almost March and I am gearing up for the March writing challenge, yet it is 6:24pm and I am just now getting to sit down to write.

What to write….???

I glance at today’s Washington Post and the headline below the fold reads ” ‘I won’t put you in a nursing home’: A vow that sometimes can’t be kept. ” (Can read whole story here)

My mind thinks back to the many Grey’s Anatomy episodes I have been binge-watching lately. The season I am in now has the chief taking his wife with Alzheimers to live at a nursing home after she left the burner on in the kitchen.

My mind then thinks of my own dear friend who is also showing symptoms of this disease. I wrote about her becoming a grandmother last March here. She is still living at home with her family but I wonder about her future.

I start to read the article and read this sentence: By 2050, the number of people 85 and older is projected to triple.

My mind then thinks about how this is good news for my husband’s architecture firm which has a large Senior Living Division.

My mind then thinks about my current 3rd graders and how I should teach them about the field of geriatrics, apparently a growing field for future jobs.

Then I reread the sentence: By 2050, the number of people 85 and older is projected to triple and think. Just to be sure, I open the calculator on my iPhone and type in 2-0-5-0, hit the minus sign, then type in 1-9-6-3 and hit the equal sign.

87 stares at me.

I reread the sentence a third time: By 2050, the number of people 85 and older is projected to triple.

And it sinks in. I will be one of the reasons for the tripling.

I wonder where I will be living in 2050??

The Visitor

Ding dong.

Evelyn heard the sound and out of habit, she set down her cup of coffee on the kitchen table and walked to the front door. She could see a woman smiling and waving hello through the window panes along side the door. Evelyn mimicked the actions by waving her hand and smiling. Automatically, Evelyn pulled open the door and the woman said, “Hi, Evelyn. I’m so glad you are home. I brought pictures to show you from Anne’s graduation.”

Evelyn heard this woman call her by name and she was smiling. She must be my friend or maybe a friend of Michelle’s, she thought. She tried to explain how Michelle was out and that Michael was downstairs. But the only words voiced were, “Michelle…Michelle…out” in a stuttered manner.

The smiling woman, holding a small photo album in her hand said, “That’s okay. I came to show you my pictures from Anne’s graduation from UVA” and she started walking toward the kitchen. Evelyn followed this lady who seemed to know her way around her home.

They sat next to each other on the kitchen island stools and the lady showed her photo after photo of people posing. One was wearing a black robe and the lady called her Anne. “Isn’t Anne a happy UVA graduate!”

“Happy,” Evelyn parroted.

Evelyn pulled the photo album closer to her face. She studied each photo a second time, trying to understand, trying to recognize the people. “UVA,” she said aloud.

“Yep, just like your Michelle, my Anne’s a UVA graduate!” The woman said proudly.

Just then the sound of the front door opening could be heard. “I’m back,” a voice called. Into the kitchen walked Michelle, Evelyn’s daughter.

“Sally, it’s so good to see you.”

“I came to show your mom the pictures from Anne’s graduation.”

“Oh, let me see,” and Evelyn handed the photo album to her daughter.

Evelyn thought, “Sally…she must  be a friend. I wish I could remember. How come everyone around me remembers and I can’t? How come everyone around me can talk easily and I can’t?”

Evelyn folded her hands tightly and looked from Michelle to the woman and smiled.

March 24 – new births

A few hours ago, my one friend sent me a text that read “Jill is pushing.” I immediately sent back a text that read “OMG!!!” to which she replied “I am so excited I can barely breathe!” Her baby is having a baby! She’s also a fellow slicer and has written about this anticipated birth a few times this month. I predict more slices on this topic during our last days of this writing challenge. (To read her slice about this from yesterday, click here. My favorite line from that slice is:

Once you become a mother, there is no going back, no career change…

An hour later I got an email from a couple I am friends with. It read, “It’s a boy”. Their oldest delivered her third boy. Then another email arrived with a photo attached showing the wife holding the new baby, head covered with dark hair and all wrapped up in the hospital white with blue and pink striped blanket. I replied back, “Two angles!”

WOW – two new babies joined the families of two of my friends today.

In the photo attachment to the email, my friend in Virginia is holding a new bundle of joy, her fifth grandchild. When the 3rd and 4th grandbabies were born, her daughter lived in Colorado and my friend flew out each time to help her daughter with the new arrivals. Over a year ago, though, my friend changed. She started getting confused. She started talking in only short phrases, mostly mimicking words she heard. The daughter, her husband and the two grandkids moved from Colorado to Virginia to help out. Today, my friend holds her 5th grandbaby. If she could express herself, she would tell me how soft his skin feels She’d tell me how much hair is on his head. She’d tell me how she held the baby at the hospital while her daughter rested. She’d tell me how excited her other grandkids are – now big brothers. Yet, her words don’t come anymore. Yet, she told me all that through the email photo today.

Thinking back to my other friend’s words –

“Once you become a mother, there is no going back, no career change…”

I do agree, except when the mother is no longer capable of all the job requirements of mother. Then the child starts being the “mother” for her mother. Yet, a new baby, ALL can hold and enjoy!