Tag: my mom

The teller of secrets

I muse how my life would have been if, instead of being the eldest child, I had had an older brother.

 

Today would have been my parents’ 62nd anniversary. But my dad died a few months after their 50th, in 2000. I always remember the date, though, because my mom always referred to me as an early anniversary present. I was born five days shy of their third wedding anniversary. Coincidentally, my eldest niece was born five days short of HER parents’ anniversary. Also, since my parents were married in 1950, it was always easy to calculate how long they had been hitched.

The odd thing about my parents. My father revealed almost nothing about his past. My mother, though, starting when I was nine or ten, would drop tidbits about her past, my parents’ joint history, and, more peculiarly, events from my father’s past at which she was not present, to my sisters and to me. So she told us stuff about him that he never told us about himself. Some were so spotty that it engendered more questions than answers. A few things fell into the category of “We REALLY did not need to know that.” Other bits were useful; WHY my father didn’t particularly like Christmas made a certain amount of sense.

One item she mentioned was that she had experienced a miscarriage in April 1951, in the second trimester of the pregnancy; it was a male. She was rather matter-of-fact about it in the telling, but she noted that my father was rather devastated by the situation. So when my mother got pregnant again, in 1952, she reported that he was a bit at arm’s length emotionally about it. It wasn’t until the baby arrived safely that he could even think about coming up with names.

This explains the frantic calculation of names he did on scraps of paper at his cousin Ruth’s house before he came up with Roger Owen Green, with the initials ROG. From time to time, I muse how my life would have been if, instead of being the eldest child, I had had an older brother.

40 Years Ago: March 5, 1972 – did not see that coming

It was a surprise birthday party for me!

In the Scudder Hall dorm, at the State University College of New Paltz, my room was B-2. I had a roommate named Ron, who was a graduate student; an odd pairing, a freshman and someone doing post-graduate work. But he was a pretty easy-going guy, and I guess I didn’t drive him too crazy.

It was surprising, though, that one day, Ron decided that we really needed to thoroughly clean the room. I didn’t think it looked that bad, but surely I would not have been the gold standard for that kind of thing.

A couple of days later, which was a Sunday, my friend Uthaclena was over at one of the dining halls playing billiards. I must admit here that 1) I love playing pool, but in spite of that, 2) I’ve never gotten very good at it.

After a time, he and I went back to my dorm room. If you have had glasses, you know how it was when it’s a bit cool out, then you walk into a room that’s a bit warmer? Right – the glasses steam up. So I walk into my room, and there are my girlfriend, the Okie (I think – I’m having trouble seeing), and our friend Alice, Ron of course, but wait? Is that my father, mother, and sisters? And who is THAT guy? (It turned out to be the quasi-boyfriend of one of my sisters.) And possibly others, though it was a small room.

It was a surprise birthday party for me! My birthday wasn’t for a couple of days, and so it caught me unawares. But it was great. I was feeling a bit melancholy, my first birthday away from home. And, more than that, they brought a lot of Kentucky Fried Chicken ((back when they called it that), and there was enough left over for me to have for a couple more meals.

The event had a profound impact on me. I have subsequently helped pull off a number of surprise birthday parties over the years. Of course, I can still be surprised myself; the very next year, my parents, coordinating with the Okie, puled off another event; I think we went out to dinner. And much more recently, Uthaclena and his wife plotted with my wife to surprise me.

One last thing about the plan two score ago: my father called our dorm room one morning at 7 a.m. Ron answered the phone, and my father revealed the plan. But even as I lay on my bed half-awake, Ron never let on who he was talking to. But it DID lead to a clean dorm room.

The first anniversary of my mother’s death

I was there when Mom died shortly before 9 a.m.

I realized that, while my mother’s death naturally made me very sad, and especially that “adult orphan” thing weirded me out, there were some things that mitigated the pain somewhat.

To recap: my “baby” sister called me at work on Friday, January 28 to tell me our mother, Gertrude Elizabeth (Trudy) Green, had gone to the ER with a severe headache. It was latter determined that she had had a “brain bleed”; I don’t think I understood that terminology until I got down to the hospital. What Mom had was a stroke; there are two kinds, one which constricts the blood, and the other, less common, but more problematic, where there’s too much blood.

I figured that I needed to go down by train because flying was too expensive. I remember getting a “sick or bereavement rate” when I flew down to Charlotte, NC before my father died, but it was hardly helpful. Since I didn’t know when I’d return, taking the train to Charlotte seemed to be the best plan.

I was initially planning on leaving on Tuesday, but when I saw the forecast for a massive snowstorm, which did arrive, I knew I needed to leave on Monday. I called work on Monday morning from the train station to tell them I wouldn’t be in for several days.

Tuesday, my sisters and I spent the day in the hospital, and my sisters tell me that she was doing much better, giving a couple of one-word answers.

Wednesday morning, she had a Cheyne-Stokes breathing episode that sounded terribly distressing, but apparently was not, at least for her. I talked with my doctor about this last month when I was feeling unwell. She notes that hospice nurses are good at bringing comfort to the family, but that sometimes, hospital nurses forget that, when death is near, they still need to try to make the family feel OK. My doc theorized that perhaps they gave my mom a bit of morphine to control the sounds, for my benefit.

I was there when Mom died shortly before 9 a.m. I was told to call my sisters before I was told that fact; very odd. When my sisters arrived, they thought she was only sleeping before I had a chance to tell them otherwise.

I was having this electronic conversation with my blogger buddy Arthur recently about the euphemisms for death. He doesn’t much like them, and I’m inclined to agree. But, in my mom’s case, I understand why they say that someone “passed away.”

It so happened that I wrote a blog item that posted on Wednesday, though I had written it on Saturday, Take the Train to Charlotte. All the posts prior to 2:05 pm EST indicated hope for my mom’s recovery. But somewhere around 2:12, I started getting condolences. Denise, the ABC Wednesday diva, had IMed me at some point after we got home from the hospital around noon, to ask how my mom was doing, so of course, I told her. The outpouring of support I got from people I had never met was astonishing. Jaquandor and Arthur both wrote posts about my mom and me.

I was intrigued by one comment to a brief post I wrote the day after she died, describing my account as “dispassionate”. I suppose that was true; it was a coping mechanism.

So it was tough, but it was made palatable by folks from work and church, and by friends I’ve known in person, but also from a whole lot of people I have never met. My friends Jason and DeeDee placed a small obit in my mom’s hometown paper in Binghamton, NY, which was the first time some of her friends and relatives heard about her death. I read the comments from various posts I wrote during the month, and they make me (past and present tense) both weepy, but at the same time, comforted. The aforementioned Denise sent flowers to our house; it is amazing how well flowers from England held up.

Oh, some mundane stuff: got $561 from my mother’s Social Security in December, as did my sisters; not quite clear exactly why. That’ll help with paying off some of the debt I incurred for the funeral and Charlotte newspaper obit.

2011 Revisited

The zoo that is the Republican Presidential race. Quite entertaining.

One of those year in review quizzes from Jaquandor.

Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Technically, I didn’t make any, in that I didn’t write any down. But probably not. Haven’t figured how to do more exercise without it feel like exercise. Probably played racquetball a half dozen times in 2011; used to play 200 times a year before the local Y closed, but dropping off the daughter at school then needing two buses (or a bike and a bus, if the weather’s decent) to get to work has made getting to play at Siena College difficult.

I keep threatening myself to stop blogging; what I HAVE done is to blog (slightly) shorter, especially in December.

Did anyone close to you give birth?

Actually, yes. My co-worker/fellow librarian Amelia and her husband Brian had baby Charlie on October 9. I won the office pool. Charlie was due October 8. I picked the 9th day of the 10th month of the 11th year at 12:13 pm; Charlie arrived at 12:51 pm. My pick REALLY ticked off the guy who picked 12 noon. “Who picks 12:13?”

Did anyone close to you die?

Well, yes. There was this guy named Chris Ringwald. We weren’t close, I suppose, but his death affected me deeply.

Robin Ashley was a guy whose house we’d go to every Christmas and sing carols. He developed ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease) two or three years ago. One of the rather neat things is that he had this machine that would type words by him looking at the particular letters. It was slow, and exhausting for him, but it was a way for him to communicate when he otherwise could not.
And then there was my mom.

What countries did you visit?

O Canada! (see several posts in September.)

What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

More massages, more patience – might be a relationship there.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?

I reached out to the alumni at my library school, and they invited me to participate in some workshop.

What was your biggest failure?

I did a couple of webinars on Census’ American Factfinder for work and had techno difficulties each time. I realize that I HATE doing webinars. I prefer doing things where I can look at people’s faces.

What was the best thing you bought?

I bought a couple of older Hess trucks from my friend Mary that used to belong to her late husband Tom. It was a nice connection with him for both of us.

Whose behavior merited celebration?

Arab Spring people. The fuzzily focused, but necessary Occupy people, who at least drew attention to the disparity of income.

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Congress generally. I mean they can’t pass a budget, hardly ever, just a series of continuing resolutions.
Birthers, climate change deniers, any number of conspiracy theorists.

Where did most of your money go?

The house, in repairing the roof, insulating the attic, fixing the foundation. Jaquandor: are you SURE you want to buy a house?

What did you get really excited about?

The zoo that is the Republican Presidential race. Quite entertaining. And, speaking of zoos, the trip to Canada, including the Toronto Zoo.

What song will always remind you of 2011?

The Afterlife by Paul Simon

Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?

Sadder. I’m an adult orphan.

Thinner or fatter?

More or less the same.

Richer or poorer?

Slightly poorer because the Wife is working fewer extra hours, which is good, and because of the aforementioned house and my mother’s funeral, which is not.

What do you wish you’d done more of?

Going to movies, for sure.

What do you wish you’d done less of?

Thinking. Melancholy. Insomnia.

How did you spend Christmas?

Went to church, bifurcating the gift thing.

Did you fall in love in 2011?

Yes. One of the best things that happened on Thanksgiving is that the Wife and I stayed in bed, TALKING, for over an hour, with no interruptions; what a luxury. Grandma had fed the Daughter and her cousins, and she could hang with them.

How many one-night stands?

As many as last year.

What was your favorite TV program?

The Good Wife, The Closer, CBS Sunday Morning, The Daily Show.

Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

No, but I have a lot of contempt for Newt “let’s get rid of child labor laws” Gingrich, Herman “which one is Libya” Cain, and Rick “the third department is…” Perry, greater than last year at this time.

What was the best book you read?

Complete Peanuts, 1950-1952.

What was your greatest musical discovery?

Adele. OK, so I’m behind the curve; so sue me.

What did you want and get?

I wanted music, both singing and buying recordings.

What did you want and not get?

Some dedicated time to blog. It’s still catch as catch can.

What were your favorite films of this year?

The Muppets; and Midnight in Paris; and Crazy, Stupid Love.

What did you do on your birthday?

Not work. Went to an Indian buffet.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

“Fashion” is silly.

What kept you sane?

Writing; singing; listening to music; learning new stuff; and then I suddenly realized that the question ASSUMES that I AM sane, which may or may not be the case.

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Gabrielle Giffords; Jon Stewart; the CBS Sunday Morning reporters; Scott Pelley of CBS News.

What political issue stirred you the most?

The gay marriage vote in New York. Actually watched the end of that vote in real time on TV.

Who did you miss?

I miss my mother.

Who was the best new person you met?

I “met” a few interesting folks online this year.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011:

Do what you think is right; the rest of the world might catch up, or not.
Democracy may work, eventually.
Libraries are wonderful.
I have better relationships with some people I’ve never met face-to-face than I do with people I see nearly daily; that is fascinating to me.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

We come on the ship they call the Mayflower
We come on the ship that sailed the moon
We come in the age’s most uncertain hour
and sing an American tune
But it’s all right, it’s all right
You can’t be forever blessed
Still, tomorrow’s going to be another working day
And I’m trying to get some rest
That’s all I’m trying to get some rest

-American Tune, Paul Simon

Legendary albums from a world dominated by kittens…Photo recreations by Alfra Martini of aymvisuals.
infoATaymvisualsDOTcom

N is for Normal

My biology/homeroom teacher told me straight out that my father was “CRAZY” for leaving his job at IBM.

When I was growing up in the 1950s and 1960s, it was NORMAL for the mom to be home with the kids. My family wasn’t normal. My mother worked outside the home for as long as I can remember until she retired a decade and a half ago.

First, she was in the bookkeeping department at McLean’s department store in downtown Binghamton. Then she moved less than a block to Columbia Gas, where she was reportedly the first black person to work as a customer service rep. When she moved to Charlotte, NC, she was a bank teller for First Union bank.

No one has ever suggested that my father was anything like “normal.” In fact, my biology/homeroom teacher told me straight out that my father was “CRAZY” for leaving his job at IBM of six years (that he hated), especially for a position with Opportunities for Broome, an OEO government job (where he thought he was making a difference). Government jobs come and go, but once you’re in the IBM family, you were set for life. (IBM decided it actually DID start having to lay off people in the 1990s.)

So, normalcy isn’t always that appealing. It’s been used as a cudgel to block all sorts of individual and collective rights.

Conversely, I AM sympathetic, as I watch the trauma over the worldwide economic crisis when I hear people ask, “When will things get back to NORMAL?” Likewise, the “crazy” weather generates a similar response. People are desperately looking for a sense of stability/sanity.

I have to wonder if “normal” is coming, or, as I suspect, we’ve come to a “new normal” of stormy weather, fiscally and meteorologically.

As Bruce Cockburn sang: The trouble with normal is it always gets worse – LISTEN.

Maybe Normal is just a town in Illinois.

ABC Wednesday – Round 9

Ramblin' with Roger
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