Saturday, January 26, 2013

Rabbits and Diamonds

Rabbits and Diamonds

July 25, 2012 around 4:00 pm my dad had a stroke. Mom called 911 and he was Care Flighted from the end of Buckingham Lane to Miami Valley Hospital. Dad died at the end of the lane, but the paramedics were able to revive him and transport him to the hospital. It took the family five long days of having to sign off- two times- to take Dad off life support and then we waited 24 hours for him to pass.  Dad did not have a Living Will.  As a family, all of us were traumatized because Mom was supposed to pass before Dad and not for another few years. I prayed for understanding.

A couple of days before the funeral a dear friend, Denise, stopped by Mom's house and told Mom that Dad will come visit her, but in the form of an animal and she will know, because it will be obvious. I thought it was very sweet of Denise to tell Mom that, but sort of let it go.

The Sunday after the funeral, Erika woke me at two in the morning to tell me she needed cough medicine because she couldn't stop coughing. I very reluctantly got out of bed to find the cough syrup.

First I must describe our master bedroom/bathroom suite. The bathroom is perfectly centered in the middle of our ranch style house. The house is on a slab, so there is no basement or crawl space. There are no windows or any way to access the outdoors. The bathroom is the tornado safe spot.

I stumbled to the bathroom with Erika and turned on the light. As my eyes were trying to adjust to the light, I saw a dark something sitting in the middle of the tiled floor. I focused a little more and the dark thing hopped. I stood there a moment and then looked closer and there sat a wild baby rabbit! I squealled, "Rick...there's a rabbit in the bathroom!" Erika started hopping around saying, "Oh..Oh,oh,oh...that's a rabbit!"


Rick was able to get the baby rabbit out of the house and set it free. Our nerves were shot. But I was pretty sure that Dad had come to me in the form of a rabbit. Many people told me that the rabbit meant "have no fear." I called Mom and told her about the rabbit and she said, "Dad came to you as a rabbit. That's different." I went on to tell her that when she passes to please not come as an animal and especially not a rabbit. Because I don't like having animals in my bathroom. We laughed and occasionally joked about it.

After that day in August I hadn't seen another rabbit. Not even hopping through the back yard.
In early to mid November a friend's mother died and we went to her viewing. While standing in line we heard a lady ask why there was a stuffed rabbit in the ladies casket. Our friend explained that her mother had Dementia and when she would visit, her mother would ask that the bunnies be cleared from the room. So she would pretend to pick up rabbits and carry them out. So it only seemed fitting to put a stuffed bunny in her casket. When I heard that story the hair on the back of my neck rose. I thought to myself, "Dad is talking to me and he's coming to take Mom with him and for me not to be afraid."

The next day we left for Wisconsin to go to the OSU football game. That Saturday we were standing in a very large crowd of about 70,000 people across from Camp Randall stadium. There were people drinking, screaming, bands marching by and lots and lots of tailgating and traffic. It was crazy. I was standing on the sidewalk with my friend Robben watching everything and she stepped back and stepped on a baby rabbit, it squealled and ran away. Once again the hair on my neck rose. I looked at Robben and said, "Dad is trying to tell me that even though things are chaotic, he's coming for Mom."
Robben told me I was reading too much into the baby rabbit. I think she was just trying to calm me.

I reflected on my friend Barry Shafer's blog and he called these sightings God Stamps. I prayed to God to reveal to me what his rabbits mean. A few days later, I was looking through some photos on a Facebook link called "Photos of Santa." and the first photo I clicked on was this.


Once again, the hair on my neck raised. I realized that Dad and God were taking Mom home on Christmas Day.

A little history, in November Mom had to go to the hospital and while she was there the doctor informed  my brother, Steve that we should call Hospice. Steve talked like it was up to Mom as to when she wanted Hospice care. I think Steve was in a bit of denial and not ready to let go of Mom.  But Mom kept telling me that she wanted to "Go Home." and "How many more days until Christmas?" I knew what she meant. But it was still hard to listen to her.  Finally, December 21st Steve and I met with a Hospice Case worker/nurse. Mom, the nurse, Steve and I talked. Mom said she didn't want to die in the house. The nurse said that the Hospice nurses would know when Mom had about two weeks to live and that's when we would move her to Hospice of Richmond.

It was odd that day...I gave Mom a bath and dressed her. Steve left to go to the store. I fixed Mom dinner and we sat at the kitchen table, Mom sat in her favorite spot, we stared out the window and looked down the lane. We did not say a word for 40 minutes. The house was completely quiet, we
didn't have the radio or tv on. Finally I helped Mom to her recliner, covered her up and sat beside her in silence. There was nothing to say.

Earlier in mid December Mom said to me, "Herschel (my dad) has been visiting me every night. I wonder where he is laying his head at night and if anyone is covering him up and making sure he is warm.  I miss him so much."

I said, "Does he talk to you?"

She said, "No he just sits with me. Then after awhile he walks out of the room and I call for him but he doesn't come back."

Knowing that this Christmas was Mom's last, Steve and I decided that we should make it nice. We fixed a big dinner, brought presents and tried hard to be jolly. As soon as I walked in the door Christmas Eve Mom was sitting in her favorite spot at the kitchen table and she said, "Sheryl, three nurses came today and all three gave me a bath and washed my hair. I am clean and you don't have to bathe me today." Steve said, "Two nurses, one bath." Poor Mom she associated me with her baths and washing her hair.

I said, "Mom, you look and smell great!"

As the evening progressed Mom probably told me seven times that she wanted to "go home." I knew what she meant. I kept whispering, "Mom can you make it through tonight?"

The evening became so chaotic. But we made it as jolly as possible, all the while watching Mom decline.  Rick, Erika and I left right before 7:00 pm to go to church. When we got in the car, Rick who-if-it-isn't-painfully-obvious-doesn't-see-anything, said, "I don't know how she is going to make it through the night."

 I said, "Hopefully she'll rest up and we can move her to Hospice soon."

We went to church then stopped by Mom's after church. She was in bed.

Christmas morning we hosted Rick's dad. I texted Steve about 10:30 and he said that Mom didn't have the strength to get out of bed or eat. I texted him to call Hospice and get her out of the house. I was trying so hard to be nice to Rick's dad and make Christmas nice for everyone and not think about the picture of Santa with the rabbit. After we opened gifts I started finishing Christmas dinner and setting the table and Steve called. I knew by the way the phone rang that Mom had died.  I absolutely couldn't believe that God was so close to me and he had spoken and he and Dad came for Mom on Christmas day!

We all cried. Then on December 30th I got a Facebook message from Mom's Facebook account and it was the photo of the day. And here is the photo.

 
 
 
I felt peace, Mom and Dad are together.
 
Sue, Rick, Erika and I looked at the photo and I said, "I wonder how Mom is going to come to me?" Then I said out loud, "Mom please don't come to me as an animal in my bathroom, it freaks me out." We laughed.
 
Mom's funeral was on December 31st. It was a very cold sad day. I wish I hadn't felt like it would have been morbid, I would have taken pictures. The cemetary was snow covered. A very different day than the summer day that Dad was buried. It was clearly a rerun funeral but in the snow.
 
About three almost four years ago. I was sleeping in bed and my wedding ring was cutting into the side of my face. So I took my ring off, rolled over and placed my ring on the night stand. Only I missed. My ring fell to the floor. I remember saying to Rick, "My ring fell on the floor and I'm too tired to pick it up. Oh, I'll get it tomorrow."
 
The next day I got up and forgot all about my ring. I went about my business for two or three days before I realized that I wasn't wearing my ring. Finally I remembered that I had dropped it on the floor by the bed. I retraced my steps and I couldn't find my wedding ring. I looked frantically everywhere. I picked up the night stand, the bed and even the dresser. I looked inside the night stand and all around it. That evening when Rick came home he helped me and we took the whole bed apart. We took the mattress and box springs off the frame and looked through everything. We looked in the heating vents, we took the carpet up around the bed area. We moved all the furniture in the room. We could not find the ring. We looked through drawers, in the laundry, in the washer and dryer...EVERYWHERE! We pretended we were the cat and tried to figure where the cat could have, might have carried it. No ring. I cleaned the house thoroughly looking for the ring.
 
We did the Novena to Saint Anthony to Find a Lost Article...and the ring didn't show up. I thought back to that night and I remembered that Rick was laying in bed reading the newspaper and he would drop the newspapers to the floor and my ring had dropped onto the newspapers. I realized that I probably picked up the newspapers and threw them in the trash and my ring probably went in the trash with the newspapers.
 
Still I was holding out hope that I'd find my ring. Finally after two years of searching, we determined it was offically lost. My mom was so upset. She really was bothered by me losing my "diamonds" as she put it. She would call me a couple times a week lamenting about me losing my "diamonds". She even came over a couple of times and made me show her where I lost my ring. As if she was going to find it! I got to the place that I was annoyed by her obsession with me losing my ring. Finally, I said, "Mom, I'm still married, a ring doesn't make me more married!" Mom didn't completely let it go. She just tried not to talk about it anymore.
 
For my fifthieth birthday, Rick found me a replacement ring. It is beautiful and completely different than my lost ring. I showed Mom my new ring and she liked looking at it and putting it on and always wanted me to show people my new ring. Mom would ask me to show a complete stranger my new ring then she would tell them how I was so careless that I lost my other beautiful ring. UGH...!
So as a safeguard to not lose my new ring, when I put my pajamas on at night, I put my ring on my crystal ring holder. Every time I take my ring off, that's where it goes.
 
Friday, January 25th, one month after Mom died, I was extremely sad all day. I had trouble not crying and not talking about how Mom died five months after Dad and that Dad has been gone for six months now. Rick came home and I tried to explain to him my deep sadness. Bless the poor guy, he was struggling too. We were a full fledge pitiful couple. We laid in bed that night and talked until the wee hours discussing how sad I was. I knew I loved Rick, but once again he earned his way deeper into my heart.
 
Throughout Friday, I kept praying for peace. I looked through pictures of Mom and Dad and the rabbit pictures. The signs that Mom and Dad were happily back together.
 
This morning, Saturday, January 26th, I was getting dressed and I went to my ring holder for my ring and there on top of my new ring was  my LOST ring right there on my ring holder! I didn't have my glasses on and felt I had officially lost my mind. I put my glasses on and looked again. Sure enough there it was, my LOST ring!
 
I screamed and yelled for Rick and Erika to hurry and come look. Erika ran into my room and Rick slowly got out of bed and looked as I held up my ring holder and said, "LOOK!!!"
 
Erika yelled, "MOM where did your ring come from?" 

I said, "I don't know. Mom put it there."

Rick said very casually, "No I put it there."

I said, "What? You found my ring and put it there and didn't tell me?"

"Well, I found it lastnight and I put it there knowing you'd find it." He said.

"Where did you find it? Show me the exact spot!"

Rick said very matter of factly, "Right there by the night stand."

"I can't believe after how sad I was yesterday that you wouldn't have come running when you found my LOST ring and shown it to me. You slept through the night...all night long knowing that you found my LOST ring and you didn't even think that by telling me it would have cheered me up?!?!?"  I lectured.

Rick said, "It was weird."

I didn't listen a second longer, I ran to the phone and called my sister Sue. I almost called Mom to tell her that my LOST ring was found!

After I calmed down and took pictures of the ring on my finger and texted the photo to some of my friends that would understand, I decided to discuss the phenomenon with Rick again.



We were driving to Englewood to take Erika to D&D driving school and I just stared at my ring and kept saying, "I can't believe it. You found my ring right in the spot where it was lost years ago and you didn't say a word? How could you do that?  It's amazing! Mom came, found my ring...I swear we took up the carpet...I have vacuumed that area atleast 100 times...and she put it right there in the exact spot it was lost! Isn't that amazing?  Thank you Mom for not revealing yourself as an animal! This is a wonderful, wonderful gift. The ring is even more special now."

Rick didn't say much and finally as we were getting on Interstate 70 he said, "Well to be honest with you, the reason I didn't give it to you last night was because I was mad at you. And you were so psychotic that I didn't want to yell at you. Well, actually I walked over to the night stand to get the "clicker" (Mom called the remote the "clicker" and to make fun of her we called it that and now it's a habit.) and I stepped on something and it was your ring. I thought to myself, 'oh...great she's trying to lose ANOTHER ring!' So I picked it up and put it on your ring holder. I didn't even see that it was the lost ring and that your new ring was already on your ring holder."

For some reason I thought that was the funniest thing! I laughed until I almost cried.

Rick looked at me and said, "I have to agree that finding your lost ring is pretty amazing."

Erika said, "Dad you are so dumb."

Thank you Mom, I love this ring!





Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Fitness Room
It's been awhile since I've been able to drive my daughter to school then on to the YMCA for an early morning workout. There are a couple of reasons that I like the early workouts, I get sweaty first thing in the morning so I only take one shower and secondly the fitness room isn't crowded.
The average age in the workout room is sixty and they make me feel like I'm really in shape and looking good. About an hour into my workout, the college kids show up and they are usually rock hard and have all the right clothing and then I begin to feel like a middle age, overweight, out-of-shape mother!
I was so excited to swipe my card and say good morning to the front desk lady. I wondered if she had noticed that I had missed a couple of months. I was hoping that she'd say, "Good Morning Sheryl, welcome back."
The card swiper just swiped my card and buzzed me in and didn't even act like she recognized me from the past.
I walked the long hall to the locker room. As I walked in, I said silently, "Hello locker room, did you miss me? I've missed you." The locker room didn't change, it just sat there as if I had been there yesterday.
I left the locker room and made my way to the fitness area and opened the door and it welcomed me as if I were good friends. I grabbed a fresh warm towel, smelled it and breathed out and said to myself, "Oh you smell good, glad to smell you today." Then I found my elliptycal machine and began my workout. As I pushed 'quickstart' I said to the machine, "Hello my dear machine friend, how have you been? Have you missed me? I've missed you. It's good to be back."
I had already decided I was only going to exercise for thirty-five minutes. I plugged in my headset and began watching the morning news and began mindless moving. About ten minutes later, I decided I could probably continue with the machine for about forty-five minutes.
As I was stepping and moving my arms, I began looking around the room and critiquing the other people also enjoying the machines.
On the stair climber was a man that I have been seeing for a year now and he is about sixty pounds lighter. When I first saw him over a year ago, he would very slowly waddle to the bicycle, fall into the seat and barely pedal for thirty minutes and sweat like he was Lance Armstrong in the Tour de France. "Poor guy." I would say to myself. "Good thing he's here. I wonder if he's recently had a heart attack because he sure looks like he's doing some kind of cardiac rehab."
Then I looked over at the weight machines and there he was, the German Baptist in his gray sweat pants and plain white t-shirt. How did I know he is German Baptist?...his beard. As I watched him lift each dumb bell and breath in and breath out, I wondered to myself if it was against his religion to wear gray sweat pants and a plain white t-shirt and be at the Y. Then I began to wonder about the German Baptist women and if they were allowed to workout and if so, do they have to wear their bonnet the whole time and if it would stink from the sweat.
I heard some breathing...and I looked right and there he was; the Chinese man that walks on the treadmill slow. As he slowly walks he breaths in and breaths out very loudly with his two pound hand weights. His breathing is very methodical as if he's saying, "wax on, wax off, wax on, wax off...."
I looked at my time and I was already twenty-five minutes into the routine. Then a man I'd never seen before came in. He was thin and had on white long underwear, with denim painter shorts over them, red tube socks, black Converse shoes and a gray long sleeved sweat shirt. As I watched him walk across the room to the treadmill I wondered if he was dressed that way because he was cold.
I hadn't really notice until that very moment that the lady to my left was going about a hundred miles an hour on her elliptycal machine. The only reason I noticed she was there and moving fast was because she stopped abruptly. About that time she pulled her shirt off and worked out in her swimming suit! This Asian lady has absolutely no curves and is rock hard! She was dripping wet with sweat. She finished in her swim suit and walked over to the weights and began bench pressing. I watched her lift weights and I thought to myself, "I'd like to look like her."
I looked down and I had already burned up my forty-five minutes that I had committed to and only had seven minutes left and I would have worked out for an hour. It was a nice feeling to know that I had managed to people watch for almost an hour.
Then a curvy, short lady walked into the room and stepped onto the treadmill. I thought to myself, "Wow, what a cute lady, she has a bubble butt and small waist, I'd like to look like her."
Not far behind her came a lady about my age and she was tall, thin and well proportioned and I thought to myself, "She's pretty, I'd like to look like her."
Then a fat lady about fifteen years younger than me came in wearing think gray sweat pants and a big baggy sweatshirt. I recognized that lady, that was me right after I gave birth. I was trying to cover up the fat and be comfortable at the same time. It didn't work, I just looked fatter and sloppy. Maybe by wearing those clothes, she had decided that she was going to not only burn some calories, she was going to sweat some pounds off too. "Good for her." I thought to myself.
My machine stopped and I decided I wasn't finished exercising.
I cleaned my machine and was looking around for another workout option. I chose the bike.
I went over and adjusted the seat and began. As I was pedalling away, a very tall man got on the bike beside me and said, "Hello, it's been awhile since I've been here. First I had a cold and couldn't come. Just when I was better, I got the flu. After I got over the flu, I got it again. I'm all better and now I'm back. It's good to be back. Hello."
I smiled at the man and said, "Hello, it is good to see you and I'm glad you're back."
I said to him, the very words I wanted to be said to me.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Beige

My heart is always in the right place. But somehow I keep meeting up with people who feel very comfortable showing me their real colors. Lately, I begin nearly every conversation with this phrase, "I'm going to hell..." then I launch into a story that I should probably keep to myself. But on the other hand, if I kept it to myself I couldn't share my amusement. I would only be chuckling inside my head and I would appear to be the weird one.
I rep for a counter top fabricator. Interesting. Who knew that I would end up telling people the pros and cons of the four different materials for counter tops; laminate, solid surface, quartz and granite? About twenty percent of our customers are the general public. Somehow, they find us and call on our little manufacturing facility to make their counter top.
One lady that lives about ninety minutes away from our showroom, called our facility and wanted to discuss her counter top color choice over the phone. Our office manager, who knows the name of every product sample, worked with this lady for over an hour. But this woman just couldn't make her decision over the phone. She needed someone to come to her house with a boat load of samples and help her choose a color that wouldn't clash with her walls. After all she has a very unique wall color, cherry cabinets, and black appliances. The countertop color has to be the perfect color to bring everything together, so nothing will clash!
I understand that, it is a big decision and one doesn't want to make the wrong one. But I'm not an interior decorator, I am a salesperson. Who else from a counter top fabricator should go to a person's home and give decorating advice. The only outside salesperson, that's who!
I mapquested her address, took a limited amount of samples...in hopes of making the decision easier due to the lack of choices and made my way through the snow to her home.
When I was about ten minutes away from her home, I realized that I was going to be early for our appointment. So I stopped off at a Wendy's restaurant. I ordered, found a table and sat down. Just as I sat down I saw an elderly gentleman that looked like he was wearing Depends. One can tell, because their trousers fit differently. The man and I made eye contact and I thought to myself, "don't make eye contact, he'll probably want to sit with you." So I quickly glanced away. He sat at a table across from me and began laughing out loud! Then he started talking to the empty chair across from him and making gestures and chuckling as if his best friend had just shown up! I said to God, "Please God, I know you get great pleasure out of planting odd people near me, but let this be the one and only weird person I meet up with today." God answered that prayer, but not the way I wanted him to!
When I arrived at the ladies house she answered the door and to my surprise she was in her mid sixties. She had shoulder length bleach blonde hair, a face full of makeup, big rhinestone circle earrings, a black zip up sweater with rhinestones around the neckline and on the zipper pull, black stretchy corduroy slacks that she had stuffed in a pair of black cowboy boots and a black rhinestone belt to pull the outfit together. She was wearing a big black beaded ring on one hand and a fake five carat diamond on the other hand.
Carol was so happy to see me. She beckoned me to hurry and come in and she scurried me to her basement kitchen. As we were walking down the steps she proceeded to tell me that she is babysitting for her three year old granddaughter and wanted to know if I was ok with that. Of course I was, what if I wasn't?!
We went to the basement and the only lighting she had was a lamp across the room and the Christmas tree.
I opened my samples and explained to her that the lady that helped her on the phone had suggested two colors a nice Kona brown or Starry Night. Both of these choices, top designers were choosing more and more.
Carol glanced at those two colors and said, "Oh no, they will clash with my wall color!"
I looked at her walls and they are "beige".
I said, "So what color are you planning on painting the walls, do you have a paint sample?"
Carol said, "Oh we just painted this basement and we are never painting it again!"
"Oh, I like the beige. Good color choice." I said.
Carol proceeded to look through my samples and found two different versions of beige and started holding it up to the walls, cabinets and appliances and said, "I don't think this particular one will match because the wall and the counter top is not exactly the same."
"Well that's why the company put so many different particles in the piece, so it'll match with anything. But why not choose a color that would enhance your beige walls?" I inquired.
Carol said, "The walls aren't beige, they are almond wisp."
"Ok, almond walls." I said.
Carol proceeded to pull out every version of beige sample and hold them up to her "almond wisp" walls. Then she said, "I just can't have the counter top and the walls clashing and so the counter top has to be the same exact color."
I said, "The beauty of "Almond Wisp" it goes with everything. You made a great choice in wall color."
About that time her granddaughter, Emily, came down the steps and Carol stopped everything she was doing and started a little rhythm dance and began singing, "Eeeeeemmmmiiiiillleeeee....oh, oh Eeeeeemmmmiiiiillleeeee..." She kept repeating this verse over and over again and dancing throughout the dark basement. Emily ran and hid!
Carol found her and begged her to say hello to me. She kept saying, "Emily say hi to Sheryl..."
Emily wouldn't. I stood there smiling and then I said, "Hi Emily how are you?"
Then Carol began her "Eeeeeemmmmiiiiillleeee..." song and dance again!
After the dance, looking at her beige and white china, (she didn't want her dishes clashing on the counter top either) and another hour and a half of comparing all of the beige samples. I handed her her four favorite beige samples and left.
As I was leaving, she handed me her Almond Wisp paint chip and asked me to ask ten people which beige counter top would match the best.
I said I would.
When I drove away, I wondered how a lady whose appearance and dress was so outlandish could be so conservative in her decorating.
As of this writing she has narrowed her choice down to two different beige counter tops.