Snort, slurk, snerk.

*** edited because I can't spell and ONE PERSON WHO WILL REMAIN NAMELESS pointed it out***

This week has been surreal, if only because it has been experienced through the haze of cold medicine. I am in the grip of the ague and there are doubts as to my longevity.

Thank GAWD for Nyquil.

I am now on vacation until January 2nd. It actually started yesterday but I don't know if it should count as I certainly don't feel like I'm on vacation. I have actually accomplished something, though - I've been getting car problems fixed. 1.5 down, .5 to go. (A part has been ordered, it will be installed Monday).

We are having TWO Christmas' this year. This Sunday we are going to my parent's. We are supplying turkey and dessert. (So I do kinda get my missed home-cooked Thanksgiving after all!) Next Saturday we are flying to Kansas City and are celebrating Christmas yet again - on the traditional date - with my wife's family. Everyone is looking forward to the trip. It will be a bit of a challenge, though, as it will be our first trip back since Laura's mother passed away last December. I was in Bahrain on the 4th, the 1st anniversary of her mother's passing and I couldn't be here with her. She won't have to face this one alone.

Ellen Mae Woodford

Ellen Mae Woodford was born on October 28th, 1927. She had a difficult childhood, not only because she was raised during the depression, but also because she was from a broken home. I still don't know a lot of the details, but I do know that it fell on her to raise her younger siblings and that her sister Bev lived with her for some time after Ellen married.

I guess that the one thing that was discussed this past week was that she believed in family. In a big way. All told, she had 8 kids of her own (one of which was premature and did not survive beyond a few days).

She is survived by all but 2 of the eight children. They came in 2 batches with almost 10 years in between. There were 7 girls and one boy.

Some would say though that all of the kids in the neighborhood were hers too. She babysat for local families and ran the daycare at several churches. I'm sure you've all met someone who was great with kids, who could get them to behave and someone that they would listen to when all else failed. That was my mother-in-law.

I met Ellen in December 1984 3 days before I married her long-haired daughter. Before the day was out, she knew about my siblings, my parents, their siblings and parents; as well as how and where I was raised, etc. Her appetite for family history was voracious - and she remembered it all. If I mentioned someone was ill, the next time we talked (maybe months later) she would ask specifically about that person, their illness, etc. Her memory was amazing.

She rarely met a stranger. During a trip overseas to see us, she met a lady on the airplane that she had not seen since, but corresponded with for years afterward. When I was working swings and mids she would often get up early and walk on-base to get breakfast and would sit down with people (especially those with babies) and introduce herself and ask about them. For months after she left people would ask after my mother-in-law. Lee Greenwood came to Crete to put on a USO show while she was visiting us there. After the show MIL somehow managed to walk up and introduce herself to him and chatted for a few minutes. She didn't know who he was as she didn't listen to the radio and the only kind of music she professed any interest in was gospel, but she frequently mentioned in later years that she liked him and enjoyed the show. (I was in bed sleeping off a mid-shift at the time. She did this on her own.)

Her trip to visit us was an amazing thing unto itself. Ellen was a homemaker whose only income was her babysitting. But somehow she saved her money and made a trip to Crete to visit us after my daughter was born. She had made earlier trips to England and California, all by herself and all with her babysitting money. She did not have a driver's license as she was afraid to and had to be driven everywhere she went. My wife tells me that the only reason her dad bought her a car when she turned 16 was so that he could make her take Ellen everywhere she wanted to go relieving him of the chore.

Now I don't want to imply that she was a saint. I have mentioned elsewhere that I have had to mediate between my wife and my mother-in-law. Her magic with kids didn't always work with her own kids. Most of her kids have had some emotional problems of some sort and I believe that she did too. She also would often criticize the grandchild in her sight and praise the ones out of sight. (so, sometimes our kids were pariahs and sometimes they were saints!) Also, for many years if my wife complained about me to her mother, her mother would ask my wife what had she done wrong. My wife used to complain bitterly that she wished her mother would take her side in an argument instead of mine.

No one is perfect. I think that it is a mistake to deify someone after they pass away. You love someone despite their failings, knowing it takes all parts to make the whole. The wholeness of spirit that was Ellen lives on in each of us that knew her, and will continue to do so as long as we remember her. The following is quoted from the guestbook on Ellen's obituary in the Kansas City Star:

My family first met Ellen 3 years ago when we moved in next door to the Woodford's. At that time, our little girl was just turning 2 years old. We threw her a big birthday bash in our front yard and Ellen, who was joyfully being pushed over by Woody in her wheelchair, brought over a Fisher Price picnic basket full of magic markers to celebrate her birthday. Lauren was thrilled! To this day, she still talks about it and plays with the picnic basket nearly every day. Through the years, Lauren always got excited when we would see Ellen sitting outside on a pretty day and she would run up to her side and just gobble up the complements that Ellen would give her, telling her how pretty and smart she was. Most recently, Lauren and I dropped by to see Ellen when she came home from the hospital and Lauren didn't really know what to think of Ellen in her hospital bed. She asked me a lot of questions about why she was in bed and why she didn't talk to her like she use to. I did my best to explain to her about the stroke that Ellen had endured. Well, two days ago, after hearing of Ellen's passing, I had to find a way to tell Lauren the sad news. I decided just to tell her that Ellen had gone to heaven. Lauren's eye's lit up and she said, "Great, I'm so glad that she doesn't have to lay down anymore and that God gave her back her voice again!"

My wife broke down and cried for the first time since her mother died after having read that. So did her other sisters to whom she was reading it.

Ellen died on Monday, December 4th at 1:30 PM central. It has to be some comfort knowing she is no longer suffering and that (if you so believe) she is now where she can once more ask you about your kids and tell you about hers.

now we'll gather at the river...

I am hot and awake at 3 in the morning. I am hot because my wife insists that unless the room is 80 degrees it is cold. (This comes from a woman who just a few years ago would go out in 30 degree weather with short-sleeves on. I think the change must be a-happenin'. I digress). All the way up here she would jack the heater up and down, up and down. I had to take my sweater off and ride in my t-shirt. All I needed was a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve and a hound dog in the back to complete the picture. I am awake because we spent 15 hours on the road and even after 3 hours I can still feel it.

Here is Kansas City, icy and snowy. Here is where my in-laws live. Here is because my mother-in-law passed away yesterday afternoon. Some would say she lost the battle at last. I would prefer to think she finally won one.

I will be in the midst of family, making arrangements, buying a winter coat, listening to everyone tell their favorite stories as one does at a time like this. And as sometimes happens I will be escorting her to her final resting place for I have been honored to be asked to be a pall bearer.

I will try to absorb and maybe relate some of this sometime soon. I am not talented in that way and I don't have the words now anyway. I am tired and sad and....happy that she is no longer trapped in her failed body. I am not a religious person, but I know she was to her core. So I choose to think that she is where her belief promised her she would be. I take comfort in that.

Love and ?hate?

I read a post this morning (here) that started me thinking. The post is about how the writer's parents behave towards each other and how she delt with it. In the comments someone mentioned their in-laws and the writer replied that in-law behaviour was up to the spouse to confront. That isn't always the case - or at least it wasn't in my case.

I can't say that my relationship with my parents has always been great. I started having problems with my dad early on - my parents had me start therapy when I was 11-12 and I wound up spending a year living with my grandparents. I know now, as a parent, how much that had to hurt them. My problems with depression stem from the relationship I had with my dad as I grew up. But - I digress. I have a great relationship with both of my parents now and this isn't about them. This is about my mother-in-law.

My wife has had a troubled relationship with her mom since.... well, all of her life. The stories I heard about MIL were bizarre - and troubling. They were such that when the kids were born and decisions were being made about where to live, we always decided it was better to be close to my parents rather than my wife's. Living apart made their relationship manageble but there were several instances where I had to step in and mediate - sometimes rather forcefully. I had resigned myself to this state of affairs and that it would remain so. But it didn't.

About 6 or 7 years ago MIL went through what we know now were a series of strokes. At the time, no one could figure out what was wrong with her. They were gradually physically debilitating and she wound up in a wheelchair. But the biggest change wasn't physical, it was emotional. All of the hatefulness was gone. She was loving and lovable. Although the past couldn't be forgotten, it could now be relegated to the past without fears of more of it in the future.

This past March she went through another series of strokes and heart problems. She was brought home under hospice care. No one could say how long she had, but no one gave her long. MIL could not move herself nor speak. She responded to yes or no questions with blinks. She's in there, hanging on, not ready to go. My wife took FMLA leave and spent 10 weeks caring for her mother 24 hours a day. Bathing her, turning her every 2 hours, changing her diapers, giving her her meds, reading to her. My wife made the hard decision to come home for mostly financial reasons, but knowing she was stable and needing to have a few weeks of FMLA left of leave for the end. That was in May. We went up in August, spending a week. This past weekend we heard that she's had a series of problems that makes everyone think that her time is coming. We expect the call at any time.

I look at my relationship with my parents and I see how I have been gifted. My wife didn't receive that gift until just a few years ago. When I think of it, it is my gift too. I've known MIL for almost 22 years. I had been seriously thinking for the last few years about trying to find a job closer so we could spend more time with her. What happened in March made it too late. And even though I've had since March, I'm not ready for the gift to be taken away yet. I guess it really can't be, the experience of the last 6 years cannot be un-experienced. The memory of the last 6 years will always be the clearest, even given the rose-tinted glasses of time. If nothing else, I have learned that despite how poorly we can be treated by those closest to us there can be love there. What was tolerance in the past is love now. I love you, MIL. I wish you peace.