Friday, November 27, 2009

Strange Birthday Gift

I was flashing by at 55, keeping to the limit.
When the sirens flared, I pulled over in a minute.
His face was stern as he approached my car
And asked to see my license, brandishing his star
As he gave it back he doffed his hat and sniffed
Happy birthday, sweetie, a happy fifty-fifth.



To write your own Flash Fiction 55, go see Mr. Knowitall

Photo courtesy Hoover Dam Police Department

It was a fine Thanksgiving. I had some expectations, which failed, and some other expectations, which came to pass. But my main expectation, that I could create a new tradition for the day and enjoy it, was met in spades.
Instead of a big family feast, stressful and messy, Joe and I invited our youngest daughter Milo and her beau to dinner, with plans to snatch up my demented mom at dinnertime and get her back to her living quarters after pie.
I had dreams of Mother teaching Daughter the secrets of stuffing turkeys, and preparing side dishes so everything is ready and hot at once. Instead, Daughter slept in, missed the turkey stuffing lesson, and we bonded over catalogs while making Christmas lists. It was fun, and all the prep work happened in good time.
The other expectation, that my mom would be utterly confused by the whole thing, came to pass. I have to let go of my wishes that I can talk to her still, carry on a meaningful conversation. The best I can do is give her a change of scenery and some family time, even if she doesn't quite take it all in.
We had a fine, mellow feast followed by pumpkin pie and carrot cake, with football in the background and mother-daughter bonding in the kitchen, even if it was me bonding with my daughter and not my mom bonding with me. It's a grief thing, this losing of my mom a little at a time.
I don't think my daughter understands the ordeal of it all. She said I talk funny and act differently with my mom in tow. Joe says I do too. Mom has only one hearing aid and words are like a foreign language to her now, since she can't track a thought from start to finish. I have to treat her like a child in many ways because she needs the guidance. It isn't fun.
But it's life, and you live it one day at a time in the best way you can. I was thankful today for so many gifts, my beautiful daughter, her wonderful beau, my hard-working husband, the richness of our lives.
Daughter and I are headed out at 6 a.m. for the Black Friday crush. I expect it will be a blast.

28 comments:

Shadow said...

how i love your 55!!! so playful!

hmmmm, what are holidays without a little stress... glad it was mostly good though! now, be careful of the crowds today, heee heee heeee

Brian Miller said...

your recount of the day gave me a smile. i am glad you had a good day and were able to let go of some expectations. smiles.

sorry about mom. T lost hers 2 years ago...

as far as your 55, nothing like the blue lights to get my heart a ticking. got one on my 17th birthday. he smiled and wished me one as he gave me the ticket...

Roxy said...

What a great 55! Seems you and daughter made some nice memories of Thanksgiving. I can't imagine the heartbreak that comes with a parent suffering from a disease which steals away the beautiful memories... I'm so sorry to read that about your Mom. I worry about my Dad, and wonder if he is in the early stages of Alzheimer's...

Enjoy your shopping trip, stay safe! Hugs!

the walking man said...

All that said I suppose you and kiddo are out buying my present now eh? It is 5:25 uhhh listen you know some of that pie sounds pretty good too mind if I raid your refrigerator while your gone?

Hootin' Anni said...

Ewwwwwwwwww, I don't like what I see in my rear view mirror!!!!

But hey....happy 55th!!!!

My 55 is "Going Cold Turkey"...skim down below my Show n Tell post to find it. Click Here

Dave King said...

Good twist, good tale. Might have a go myself.

Susan at Stony River said...

Have fun with Black Friday! I'm glad you and your daughter had a good time even without the stuffing part of it.

My Dad died of cancer so we lost him bit by bit physically, as he could no longer travel, no longer walk, no longer sit up... the goodbye was slow and painful. Losing someone the way you're losing your Mom, oh I don't know if I could bear it. Good luck and God bless; you'll both be in my prayers.

big Jenn said...

I'm sorry about your mom. We visited a good friend yesterday who's dad has Alzheimer's and he looked like he was 20 years younger than the last time I'd seen him. My grandson had never met him before and just loved him up.
What's up with young women and tradition? Why aren't they interested in it? Oh well.
glad you had a good day. jeNN

otin said...

I loved the 55 and am sorry about what you are going through. I have a blogger on my main site, Pastor Sharon(She is a very good woman) Her blog is http://danceswithgod.blogspot.com/

She has gone through this and her last post as a matter of fact deals with someone who had the symptoms of alzheimers and it turned out that it was something else! Stay strong.

Just Be Real said...

Great 55!

Sorry about your mother....

So, you are one of the black friday crew who tackle and love the crowds. Blessings to you dear one.

Mama Zen said...

Great 55!

Tall Kay said...

The only time a warning is a gift is when it's instead of a ticket! Great use of multiple 55's!

I'm happy you're having some good daughter time. I hope you find some great deals! ugh!

Lou said...

I loved what you wrote about your mother. Any one of us can be there some day; bless you for understanding her.

Madison said...

I bet your mom's presence is somehow teaching your daughter more than how to stuff a turkey. In sickness and in health. You are nice to include her.

MIke Kilgore said...

A 55 themed 55! Brilliant! Are parents raise us and then we have to kind of raise them at a certain point. My sympathies....

Thanks for stopping by...

Dianne said...

Nice 55, so smooth and fun.
I'm still wondering if I should break a barrier when I turn 50 in Janurary.
I can relate to the demetia in a mother, as you know. If you ever need me, I'm nearby. Call.
Thankful for you.

Dr.John said...

If only real life police were like that.

Beth Niquette said...

((hugs)) There are times I feel the same way. Daddy tells the same stories over and over again--sometimes I think, despite the miracle of his recovery from the accident last July--that we are losing him piece by piece.

The same thing happened to my grandparents. It is a tremendously difficult situation.

I am glad you got to spend time with your dear daughter--you may be bonding together in ways you do not understand just now. Happy Thanksgiving, and a Merry Christmas to you, my dear.

Kristin H. said...

Big hug to you on this Thanksgiving :)

enchantedoak said...

Thanks for all your empathy about Mom and her decline. I appreciate your prayers and your good thoughts.
Madison said, "I bet your mom's presence is somehow teaching your daughter more than how to stuff a turkey. In sickness and in health. You are nice to include her." And it struck me as true. I AM training my daughter how to be with me when I'm my mother's age and if (God, I pray I don't) I suffer from dementia. Anyone can stuff a turkey, but not everyone can honor a parent lost in the black hole of dementia.

g-man said...

Loved your 55-55.
Blogging is a wonderful source of strength and support isn't it.
Thanks for this wonderful contribution, and have a Great Week-End....Galen

Mary Christine said...

I love your 55 - and as you well know, I don't even like poetry.

I lost my dad by inches to Alzheimer's and know the pain well. But it taught me so much and suppose it will you too.

Scott said...

bonding is good... sounds like a good thanksgiving :-)

God Bless!

Karen said...

I'm glad you were able to spend time with both mother and daughter, and I am sure that, as someone said, you are teaching your daughter more important lessons than how to cook.

Thanks for all of your kind thoughts and words, Chris.

Blessings to you.

Woman in a Window said...

Yes, that was no cop I've known. Was it so? Or was that creation?

I imagine that kind of loss, with your mother, and I hope that it never happens with me. Not so much between my mother and I, but rather, between my daughter and I. I don't want to have those roles, not that any of us choses.

Wishing you peace. Rub that belly, and after all of that shopping, those feet, too.

xo
erin

Larry said...

Great 55. Going through the same thing with my mother also. Sometimes I think she has forgotten more than she ever knew. We have to show her where the restroom is now each time she has to use it. she's been using the same one for years now. Bless you and try to hang in there for her she needs you. My 55 is up just follow the link below.


Buggy Land

hope said...

Just checking in to ensure you survived the crowd. ;) Now rest up for the rest of the weekend.

Syd said...

Chris, I guess that I take some comfort in knowing that I too will get old. I hope that I go as my parents did--quickly without much ado and no sickness. It is hard, like a death, to see one's parent become a child. I am glad though that you could spend the Thanksgiving holiday with your mom. Sometimes reality just alters our memories a bit.

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