Tongue Tied

 Dream if you will, a picture - of my Mom and I at a stoplight. Suddenly she notices a man to the left of us in the back seat of an old model Four Runner having a VERY animated conversation with the driver. With every word he is waving his bright Orange Polka Dot tie and using it as either emphasis or as the reason for each syllable.

Naturally we're intrigued, and a little bewildered. 

Then I start the voiceover for Tie Guy -

TG - Do you see this? This stain? This happened because you stopped so short. F$&K you Geoff! 

Mom laughs.

TG- I inherited this from my Great Grandfather and now it has frappuccino all over it because you can't drive for shit Geoffrey.

More Mom laughter.

TG- IT'S SILK!! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT IT'S SILK!! 

You owe me a tie you idiot.

The vehicle turns with Tie Guy still waving his tie and berating the driver.

Mom and I are both cackling.

Less Miserable

 For my Mom's Birthday I bought her tickets to a matinee showing of a local Highschool's performance of "Les Miserables." She was very excited. We haven't been to any plays or musicals in years. Between her health, my health, and a world wide plague, being in a theatre, having to climb stairs AND be packed in next to the Coughy Coughersons was just, not, our thing.

So, yesterday was the day for "Les Miserables." We showed up at least forty minutes early to secure decent parking. Was that parking you say? We starting getting nervous when we noticed vehicles parked out on the street. Then, when we get to the actual lot, we find one designated handicap spot, of course full. At least two levels of stairs to get to the building and if there even was a ramp it must have been hidden. Cars were parked in non parking spots like a free-for-all. If we were to park at all we would have had to go back out to the street and by the time us pokey limpy gimps would have made it to the theatre it would have been well into the first act and WE would be Les Miserables.

"Les Miserables" was abandoned and we opted for a day of shopping and hanging out instead. I'm not going to lie, I cried. It's very frustrating. And sad. That just climbing the stairs to go into that Highschool was such a barrier. That my Mom didn't get to enjoy her gift. Plus the absolute shit parking was infuriating. I'm calling the School on Monday and letting them know the situation and seeing about a refund. It's the principal really. Maybe you think I should have done reconnaissance and found out about the parking and ramps ahead of time. I say, ramps and handicap parking and elevators and bathrooms bigger than a phone booth are THE way and if you don't have these then you are purposely refusing any disabled person access. Full stop.

Our day was full and fun nonetheless. They always are. It seemed everyone had the same idea that we had; to be out of the house. Everywhere we went was packed. Including all the roads. We stopped briefly at Asian Mart and on our way back to the car I saw these young ladies carrying some super cool pots. I hollered over at them "What are going to cook in those pots?" She giggled "Tamales!"

Then at JOANN Fabrics is where our patience was utilzed again. With the one checker scenario. Poor lady. Three gazillion customers in line and only one lady at the register, wearing carpal tunnel wraps on her hands. Immediately in front of us was a family. A sweet, sweet family: Mom, Dad, and three kiddos. The two older kids were doing a fantastic job of entertaining theirselves whilst waiting in line. It was impressive. Then finally, the youngest, he just started to break. He didn't want to be there anymore. Real heartbreaking tears. He had just had enough. We all had. His little cries were so sad, and relatable. I wanted to buy him every treat in that aisle. He tried so hard. 

After they FINALLY brought up more people to the registers and things started to move, I mentioned to the Mom what great kids she had, how amazingly well they did waiting that long in line. It seemed to surprise her. But I felt that she was touched by it. It takes only a few seconds to reach a person. To reach them and, make them less miserable. 😉💖

Just Right

 Me whining to my Mom about my weight and I say the dreaded word Fat.

Mom - You're not fat.

Me - I'm not thin.

Mom - You're just right.

Me - So I'm porridge.

Mom - (laughing) No. 

Me - I'm Baby Bear.

Mom - (laughs more) NO! (then sweetly and profoundly says the thing she thinks will solve all the things) You're Goldilocks. 

Me - I'm an entitled white girl that breaks into people's homes and takes other people's stuff and eats their food.

We both laugh. Hard.

Finally...

Mom - You like things how you like them.

Mom - And you're not fat.

This is why we have Moms.

Reunion of the Scrape

 This months marks the 10 year Anniversary of my Cervical Cancer diagnosis. Kind of a big deal. At the outset of it all they gave me a five year survival rate, with high probability of the cancer returning since it had spread to my lymph nodes. Still, it never did return. Not to say during the first year of my treatment that there weren't hella snags and bumps and plain old disasters. Even so, I'm here, 10 years later, for what I'm calling The Reunion of the Scrape. Today was my yearly pap smear and when I alerted my Gynecological Oncologist and his team of the particulars, they thought that was pretty damn funny. I am so lucky to have had The Hunstman Cancer Institute and their staff during all the original treatment and my follow up care. And just like before, today The Moms was there. Supporting me. Reminding me how loved I am. How grateful I am to BE HERE! 

After the stirrups, scraping, and reminiscing were over, Mom and I went for a treat. Nothing too fancy, being with my Mom is fun enough of a celebration. I ran into Sprouts and picked us up some lunch. A turkey wrap for Mom and veggie sushi for me, that the sweet kind lady made fresh because I asked if they had any without avocado so she made some! We ate in the car and had a great time of people watching. 

Not everyone gets to celebrate such milestones. They didn't get ten years, not even five. They don't get to make up silly crude names like Scrape-Aversay. Stephie didn't. So do me and Stephie a favor, go get your hoo-ha checked, your boobs squished, your testicles inspected and regularly get bloodwork done. The people that love you will thank you and you'll be thanking yourself. 

Here's to ten more years. 

Special of the Day

 

The Moms and I were at Costco today (I KNOW RIGHT she's out of the house and doing stuff it's WILD 🎉💖) and of course we're the minority of the minority wearing our masks and she's in the awesome little motorized cart and I was just not having it with people being clueless derps not possessing any sort of spacial awareness. I kept telling Mom to just go, not wait. If we didn't crowd into spaces we would still be there. An elderly handicapped woman in another of the motorized carts was struggling to put products in her basket. How many people walked by without helping until I did? It took two minutes and it totally made her day. I usually love the spectacle of humans at Costco. I engage, I smile, I joke and interact. Not today. (Well, not totally.)  I even had a teenager say about my super cool sparkly sequin mask "If you're gonna wear a mask just wear a regular one." I circled him like a twinkling vulture in the pastry aisle until his shoulders dropped to his navel and he shuffled away. Forget eye smiles, I have murder eyes.

And yet, there was the woman trying on a hoody, modeling it for her daughter. I voted two thumbs up. The sweet lady that smiled at me in the chip aisle and when I thanked her for it she thanked me for yes, my "eye smile." A man by the potatoes that told my Mom to "just run him over." The hippie in the tie dyed shirt that let my Mom go ahead in a crowded aisle that said "This place is mayhem!" There was the kind worker that helped with my old frames and their new lenses (I'm OFFICIALLY old now with progressives.) The sample girl handing out jerky that when I kindly followed up my no thanks with a "I'm vegan anyway" she giggled and said "I'm vegetarian!" We both laughed. Then as we were checking out, the checker told me how much she loved my mask and I overheard the other checker say "Working checkout is like directing traffic." My Mom and I laughed so hard.

I suppose, after allllll that, what I'm wanting to say is, help the little old ladies in the handicap carts. Be aware. My Mom seeing my impatience told me "I'm not special. I can wait." If you know my Mom you can hear it in her kind sweet voice. She is special. We are all special to someone. Let's start acting accordingly.

Face Time Capsules

Talking with my Mom today about her old address book, I asked her not to throw it away. She asked, "do you want it?" I told her it was history. She is saving it in her bottom drawer for me.

She had been wanting a new address book for a while. So many people have moved, numbers changed. Family members have died. You know, life. So, I got us matching address books for Christmas. They are sweet, with delicate blue butterflies on the cover. Blue is her favorite color. 

Now that she has updated her addresses and numbers, her sister and brothers aren't in there. She misses them every day. As we talked about all these changes I brought up how I still have Grandma Heugly's number on my phone, same with Sandy's cell. I started texting her when she moved to Arizona. But I don't have any of Stephie's numbers or even her address and this saddens and embarrasses me. I feel ashamed that someone I love so dearly, I have lost that physical earthly piece of them. I could drive you there. I have driven to her old house, just to see it. But I have no physical or digital record of it. Steph passed before smart phones and Facebook. We used to IM on AOL and send goofy emails, but they are gone. Lost in the ether with bouncing sheep and dancing babies.

Here's where my brain went after that conversation; so many of us are so digital now that each of our devices, our phones, our laptops, our tablets, they have become time capsules. They hold soooooo much of our lives, our memories that they need to be entrusted to someone if we aren't here anymore. I have designated a dear friend the keeper of my Facebook, why is there not a protocol for all our other devices? I mean, with my Mom and Dad they are mostly analog and gladly they are analog enough to have a notebook of all their passwords. 

Now on to the likes of us, with the multitudes of social medias and passwords and SO MANY PICTURES IN THE CLOUD. These little posts we make every day, these Facebooks and Grams and Tik Toks, are the choice pieces of a life journal we are choosing to share. Some are light years more choice than others, and still, they are part of our whole. I think they are worth protecting. So start making a plan with someone to save them. It is history. 

Things I Need

 List Of Things I Need To Do

1. Dust
   
2. Vacuum
3. Go Through Mail
4. Shred Mail
5. Organize And File Mail That I Didn't Shred
6. Reorganize Cupboards (Dry Goods/Staples)
7. Clean Bathroom
8. Laundry
9. Write
10. Read
11. Sort Memorabilia Boxes
12. Organize Memorabilia 
13. Get Out Knitting And Restart (Relearn Casting On)
14. Continue Paint-By-Numbers
15.  Colour
16. Write
17. Tune Guitar
18. Learn to Play Newly Tuned Guitar
19. Send Cards
20. Rearrange Bookshelves 
21. Sweep
22. Mop
23. Write
24. Detail My Car
25. Be Grateful For My Mom
26. Tell My Mom I Love Her
    

 

List Of Things I Have Done Today

 

1. Compiled This List 
2. 25 and 26 on repeat
   

 

 

 

 

 

Buying It

Costco Stories

Shopping at Costco with The Moms and a friendly lady stops us, points at our MEGA FULL cart and says "You're spending all of your inheritance!" We all giggle and then I say, "More like MY inheritance!" And we giggle some more.

These are moments I live for. Strive for. Random, silly, human breakthroughs that pierce the veil we use to protect us daily. Sometimes all it takes is a comment, a question, a smile.

Mom with her kiddo in the basket of their cart, eating the sample they just picked up, is next to me and I joke with her "Whaaaaaaat? They have kids on sale today?" She laughs, "Oh yeah, soooooo cheap. Wait, I mean free!"

The Moms and I take breaks when we shop at Costco; my leg, her knee. We sit on the couches or the recliners on display, and not only do we get back some of our energy, we enjoy top notch people watching. Our favorite is peeking into the World of Carts.

You can tell this couple is Keto, this couple is most definitely not. The single guy with only many and various meats probably has a BBQ planned and most likely will not be inviting the young lady in the yoga pants with only protein drinks and a watermelon. So many people and so many carts full of stories.

All this. In one Costco. In one city. In one afternoon.