I get haunted by things. Something about them says, ” Look closure. Understand me. I have a story to tell.” I cannot ignore the pull. It will not leave me alone until I figure out the mystery.
David LouisRegina Lebensburger Louis
This pair of portraits won’t leave me alone. They were in a box in my parents’ basement. I had never seen them until recently. The frames were old and the glass cracked. I threw those away. The portraits said, “Save me!” How could I toss such treasure? I feel like they are in this house with me…waiting.
I know they are relatives of my great aunt Ethel’s second husband. Louis is written on the back in chalk. The sticker says Worley and Zimmerman Pigua, Ohio.
A clue
My research discovered the names David Louis and Regina Lebensburger Louis. I saw a grainy photo of David’s portrait on-line. These were the grandparents of Sam Louis, Ethel’s second husband. I am currently writing a book that includes Ethel Pearson Touchman Louis.
Grandparents David and Regina are upstairs keeping me company, until I get them home to their family. I sense a roadtrip to Ohio is in my future.
I feel they need to get somewhere else. They belong with their family. They got shuffled off to the wrong people in the hasty move after Aunt Ethel’s death.
The pair and I
No worries. They will be safe here. I must admit that I will miss them, but I will not miss being haunted.
I time-traveled for several hours today. I swirled through years of memories of my family’s life, picking and clicking and dragging to get the slideshow photos ready for my mother’s memorial service next week. This overwhelmed me emotionally. I mostly cried about photos of Daddy even though he has been gone almost five years. That hole is still too big.
My gardening parents
This is my third time being in charge of this part of a memorial. The clicking and dragging gets easier, but the picking throws me into a serious funk. Losing someone I love is like losing a body part for me. My world must be rebalanced and recalibrated. Nothing highlights this loss of the missing piece like a slideshow of hundreds of photos of the dearly departed.
Mama, aunt, uncle, sister and angel
For all the folks attending a service, this is an important part of remembering the loved one. It is worth the trouble. I chose photos that had others we love with mama…Great times with family and friends.
I could have gone through more files, but stopped past the time I should have quit. My eyes could no longer focus. I could not think. I think my brain got confused about the present while traveling through all that frozen time. I had to click on now and drag my head to bed to reset myself.
Rehearsal dinner
I will pass this on to my sister to add to and tweak. I did go back through and remove some photos my mother would not have approved of. She is known for cutting herself out of photos using scissors. There were some times she did not want herself to be frozen in. We laugh when we find these clipped pictures.
Mama Kiki
Everything will be ready for the service… flowers, food, photos and music. We have helpers.
We will hold on to mama that one more afternoon. Then we must start letting her go from our presence. We cannot freeze. We must keep living.
I told my family I was going down to check on my plants downstairs and in the bunny yard. Mr. Flower said, “Take a stick.” Now how am I supposed to get anything done with a stick?
My walking stick
I chose a shovel instead. I am so relieved that my treasures survived last year’s neglect. I will post my best photos with names below.
Pink ColumbineWhite Columbine and bracken fernLittle Much bearded irisGround OrchidFlame azalea GibralterSpanish bluebells
The big news is I made it halfway down the hill to my favorite spot. Here the wind turns up the hill and has a lift to it. I have spent a lot of time under these oaks sitting on this hill watching the water. I used to haul my heavy bookbag down here and grade papers on Saturdays. I sit on this bench to pray or cry or talk to the sky.
My favorite spot
I needed to be down here today. So much is changing in my life and family. I feel a bit unmoored. It is soothing to sit where I have always sat these 35+ years to mull over the next part of my journey.
Lily of the Valley
I am thankful to my hip and shovel for making this nostalgic little trip possible. Now, if I can just get back up to the house!
I am home again. There could not be a more glorious morning. I am wandering my gardens in my pajamas, as usual. Birds are singing and flowers are blooming. Nature is partying right here in my yard.
My family is meeting at the home of our much-loved uncle this afternoon. He has chosen quality over quantity in his cancer journey. I support this decision with my whole, broken heart.
My urgent message to you is, “Love now.” Do not wait to visit or pick up the phone. Do not hesitate to say, “I love you.” Give longer hugs to more people. Life is in constant flux. What is blooming this morning will be setting seed soon.
I encourage you to include yourself in this loving. Do things that make your heart sing. You are not immortal. Time slips away while you are busy.
In the words of John Lennon
“Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans”
Make a good plan, get into good trouble and go love somebody.
I’ve been trying to get down to the heart of the matter. It has taken months of digging through old letters and photographs. These artifacts are like portals to the past. I am facing things I locked away. I have seen who I was before I was corrected and realigned.
I have had to accept that our culture’s expectations for both men and women have been limiting to both genders. Needless burdens are carried and strengths are repressed. It has taken great effort for me to admit that things I thought were moral were actually cultural. As a mother of both a young man and a young woman, it is imperative that I get my vision unbiased.
I do not intend to shackle either of my children with roles from this dichotomous culture. The roles of women, especially, have been augmented by patriarical standards for generations. I intend to stop that in my family here and now.
Another epiphany peeked out this morning. I was not expecting the truth that showed itself. But I guess I knew the truth all along. That is why this rare argument with my precious father has never let me go. Not after forty years. I know he would understand. Maybe the second-hand apology and the delayed sharing were part of the plan to get me here at this point in time.
Sometimes traveling back to the past shows you things you did not see the first go-round. Those memories you thought were locked away forever, have been waiting for you to be ready to finally look them in the eye.
This part of the journey will be done slowly, quietly and methodically. I cannot miss the lessons this time around. My past has my full attention. Our future will be better because of it.
April was supposed to be the beginning of my writing odyssey in the mountains. I have not written a single word of the book I have started. The Universe had other plans for me. I am used to this. I roll with the waves.
On April 1, my ninety-three-year-old mother was diagnosed with double pneumonia, sepsis and a UTI. She was taken to the hospital. An IV of fluids and antibiotics was started. She faded. She pulled the IV out and screamed with every touch.
We decided what she needed was peace. We stood by her bed feeding her ice chips and finely chopped food. Hospice was set up for comfort measures. She rallied enough to be sent back to her nursing home next door. An angry rash developed that robbed her of her peace. Its source has been the subject of speculation. Her withered hand was in constant movement.
Mama Kiki
Treatments were changed but the rash kept spreading. No one could stop it. Our hearts hurt for her. She finally rested. Many good people kept eyes on her, knew her, loved her. We were blessed beyond words.
Our final gift was she knew us, spoke to us with her usual grace and manner. Dementia let her loose for that last day. We were who we were there in Room 11. We were who we had always been.
Who we were
She slept through the night. Mama was peaceful in the morning and left in a wink to be with all the people she loved on the other side. I had been reciting all their names for days, in whispers. I do this to comfort myself that she will not be alone.
My only word for now is gratitude. My parents were the best they could be just as their parents had been. Many folks helped care for her, especially Debbie, Monique and Frances. We had angels with us the whole journey.
Gratitude for good end to a great life. That’s the word.
It is always the expensive plants that have the most problems. The cheap, scrappy ones take care of themselves, like stray mutts. Maybe they are forced to because garden centers just toss them if they are needy. Artificial selection occurs before the plants are even purchased.
Cheap mutts looking lovely.
My mutt azaleas ask for nothing from me. The hybrids, however, demand special treatment. I have two that are gorgeous right now ONLY because I hobbled down the hills to handle their issues last summer.
The first is this fuchsia type between the entrance bridge and the fish pond. It gets an insect-borne fungus every summer. Its leaves get brown, spotty and shrink. If I do not move fast…which is not likely lately, it almost dies.
Fuchsia hybrid gets an insect- borne fungus.each summer.
I must cover the pond with a sheet of plastic and spray the entire shrub. I also use a granular systemic treatment that I water in to start it dissolving into the soil.
My favorite 4 for spray and systemic treatments.
Last year I also trimmed it back to shape it as I held on to my purple walker. This is love.
Happy after fall treatments
It looks sickly til spring, but perks back up, as you can see. I looked for its marker, but was afraid of falling into the shrub. EMS knows my address!
This other beauty has a different problem. Our neighborhood herd of deer cannot resist its tender twigs.
Tastey azalea next to magic oak stump from last month’s posts.
It must be totally wrapped in deer fence and trimmed to prevent snacks from sticking through the mesh. I do not know its name either. I love what I love. Sometimes I bring home attractive strangers.
Deer mesh enclosure.
The deer mesh is almost invisible. I have enough ugly fence throughout the gardens. Its also easy to move and folds up to store.
I must omit the best show of all down the hill. My neighbor, Nancy, left explicit instructions for me to be careful today while she is gone. My careteam is tired of the trauma. I know Jamie Rambo will save me if I go down again…but I would rather not have doctors pulling my leg back into position for the third time.
Yet another piece of old-lady medical equipment. Ho Ho!
In a few weeks you will see a firey show from some wild favorites! Stay tuned.
FLOW
ELIZA WATERS sent a comment about systemics and bee death. I will check on these two products. Do not buy until I do. Eliza knows her stuff. She alerted me to a harmful hybrid butterfly weed years ago that I had to dispose of. Go ELIZA!
UPDATE:
BOTH these products have substances that harm bees. Their labels DO NOT have the standard two bee-killer ingredients. I had to research its active ingredients to get this information.
Imidacloprid is in BONIDE SYSTEMIC GRANULES. This was bought from a trusted supplier. I will not be this careless again.
Acephate and Tebuconazole are in BioAdvanced All-in-One Rose and Flower Care. This one was recommended by an owner of a garden center years ago. May these ingredients were not researched well back then.
I know to look out for neonicotinoids. NOW THERE 52 INGREDIENTSON THE BAD FOR BEES LIST.
We all will have to research products BEFORE purchasing.
WOW
Bees are so much more important that picky flowers and shrubs.
floweralley 