Tag: Rob

  • an eight-pound sledgehammer for Mother’s Day – who said that I’m typical?

    an eight-pound sledgehammer for Mother’s Day – who said that I’m typical?

    The call from my grandson started me out today – waking up suddenly, realizing that the phone was going off – but always, I love these FaceTime visits – just watching him, amazed at his rapid growth, and how fast he moves around – his saying “da-da-da-da-da” plus a thousand other sounds that are his baby babble – the baby language – understandable to themselves and other babies (my theory) – the cacophony of developing language within the baby human’s skill set at age 9 months… delightful!

    He has discovered cars and blocks, already playing with these little toy cars, knowing that they roll – his skills at doing this are not quite there yet, but he gets it – what they are going to do – and blocks – exploring every shape – picking them up, then delightedly throwing them down!  How wonderful to watch – I long to be there with him, but recognize that life is complicated for everyone and the daily routines consume everyone’s interests and priorities over seeing grandma who lives in another place at a distance.  Thank goodness for technology!

    My sweet husband cooked a beautiful brunch, and he plus our big fuzzy dog got me cards to open – we drank bubbly and enjoyed the time – making a plan for the rest of the afternoon, my husband suggested visiting my younger son’s resting place after grabbing a Starbucks coffee – the routine we do – I have done – since Rob passed on in 2005.  It does not really get easier, but it changes in character, this visiting.

    We took a tour of Wal-Mart and two big-box hardware stores in search of a big hammer (we ended up with an 8 pounder!) – and another steel plate, plus some alligator clips to mount onto some cable to mount onto a block which I can use to hold things while soldering or working on them – my husband is a clever craftsman and knows some tricks!

    I proudly told the check-out guy that my Mother’s Day gift was an eight-pound sledge hammer!  He looked at me and said something like “how sad!”  Well, I didn’t think it was sad… I wanted that big hammer for making my mixed media wearables – some aspects of which do require pounding!

    We met a young artist in the garden section who complimented my necklace – I told her I made these – and she asked about the constituents… We conversed, and when my husband asked her how much she would pay for one of those, she said, “I’m a bargain hunter.  I’d try to pay about $15-$20 bucks…”  OUCH!  The time and sweat that goes into these is probably worth about five times that; sad to see things so cheaply discounted because of wide availability over the Internet – it sounds like you have to really understand marketing online to be any measure successful in this – which I am not sure I really want to pursue.  But one day, I will have to move these out –

    Right now, I am building inventory – making gifts for friends, and also for potential showing – and learning new things – and it beats the heck out of working on the same things all the time!

    But back to Mother’s Day – I miss my Mom, and my Grandma Ellen – they were those people that my natural inclination was to honor and buy gifts and of course, they were those mothers in my life – then there were other mothers that had a lot of influence, too…  I can’t forget them… Too many to mention here…  I love you all.

    For now, Barbie, Caroline Howard, and my other mothers are those who come to my mind…  I’m just on that boat of looking out there on the sea of life – Today, I pay special tribute to my friend in Canada who recently lost her daughter – and is now even more of a mother to her grand-children than ever…  Bless her for her strength and courage…

  • Maybe it is just a process… You know, like life is just a process?  Reflection pools…

    Maybe it is just a process… You know, like life is just a process? Reflection pools…

    Yeah, of course… it’s the memories…

    This was the second Christmas... Good to try to improve the first one...
    This was the second Christmas… Good to try to improve the first one…

    It seems like such a long time ago – and I was… This was representative of hope – I actually have an old VHS of this day – and it snowed, too… which was interesting, because it doesn’t snow that much where we live, in Texas…

    Rob was just over a year old.  I have some other pictures of him – walking and running around like a Wildman that he was – of course a total contrast from 1987, when just a month old he was recovering from surgery and just out of the neo-natal ICU… We weren’t sure of much at the time… not at all.  Scary.  But 1988 was a turnaround improvement.  We thought he actually might stay awhile… And he did.  Almost 18 years total – but we never knew.  Every cold, every sniffle brought some potential for a tumble down.

    We learned to go to battle each time, getting better as we learned, only to know how much we had yet to learn, each time.  The vastness of the giant battle against an enemy that can take many forms.  Christmas was always the hopeful time, no matter what.  We made it that way.

    Rob, as he grew up, always was feisty and sometimes people did not suspect anything – in fact, as he got older, he preferred that people not know… for him, it was better that way, day to day.

    At 1988, Rob moved into “live it to the fullest” mode and never looked back…ever.  This is why Christmas time did represent so much hope to us…

    Looking out... Observing and exploring...
    Looking out… Observing and exploring…

    Now, I have to re-learn how to regard Christmas.  The first year was unbelievably tough.  With every year, it has morphed and the character of my grieving has changed.  It still is preferred to just be low key, but I feel that I am more of an observer, just going through motions.  No, it doesn’t help having friends there while I attempt to decorate the tree – nah.  Not when it took me three martini’s per session the last time I did this, and it took me several “sessions” to “git ‘er done”…  And then, there is the “dismantling”… oh my God in Heaven, please deliver me from having to go through THAT.  I’d rather not.

    So, what to do?  Escape?  Doesn’t really solve the problem, now, does it?  I guess that I will continue to slog through it one year at a time, hoping for hope, hoping that each year I will change my feelings and lift myself up.  One thing is for sure, nobody else can do this for me…  I must do this myself.

    Maybe this will be the year.  Hope floats.

    Up in the air