So long Santa..............

While I have tried to teach my son the true meaning of Christmas, I have always taken some delight in keeping with the "Santa tradition". There is something magical and warming watching little ones get excited. Every year I figure it will be the last year, certain that some "know-it-all" kid will spoil it for him. This year he turned 9 and much to my surprise he still anticipated Santa's arrival, leaving milk and cookies and being careful to leave enough carrots for the reindeer. With all that has happened to us in the last month, it felt good and wonderful to feed off his excitement. When he woke in the morning thrilled that again mysteriously the jolly man had snuck in and snuck out undetected. With Christmas over and a wrap, my son sat next to me "I knew he would come, some kids say hes not real that its really moms and dads, but I know he is real". I wondered if his being naive will get him picked on in school. I asked him "did he want to ask me something"?, he looked frightened like I was going to give him crushing news- "just tell me he said" then he covered his ears and closed his eyes, and that's when I told him--- Linus in Charlie Brown was wrong there is no "great pumpkin"!!--------- I just could not do it, I could not crush his spirit, he has had a great loss this month with loosing his grandfather and I just could not tell him. He laughed, so hard and told me "well I knew that, I know the truth about the OTHER thing too but we don't need to say it out loud do we?". And that is where we left things, sitting side by side silent on the couch enjoying our beautiful lit tree..........

"cat in a trap" and finding the holiday spirit

With my father now put to rest, I am trying very hard to move on, but its not easy when everywhere I turn there are reminders of him.
Finally this week we were able to catch his stupid cat. I call the cat stupid as a term of endearment because that's what he called it. My father was not a cat lover, he was without a doubt 100% for team dog. However about a year and a half ago his neighbors home foreclosed and they carelessly packed up and left leaving behind a cat to fend for itself. Well this cat found his way to my fathers doorstep, and my father caved and began feeding the cat. He begged us to come get the cat "I don't want it" he would say, however everyday he had some exaggerated hilarious story about the "stupid cats" antics. Despite his complaining we new he was smitten with this cat, especially when we found out that the cat loved to take boat rides with him (my father lived on a lake). How many cats love to take boat rides let alone go near any water. (Just to clarify for any Pita people, this cat would follow my father on the boat and was not forced, my father would drive and the cat would sit in the seat next to him and catch some rays-I regret never getting a picture) It wasn't long before my father started letting this cat that he now named "BUB" into the house, and he would stress over buying gourmet cat food or finding the right cozy blanket for a cat. My father needed the cat as much as the cat needed him. When my father passed we could not get near the cat who was outside at the time my father was transferred to the hospital. Day after day my sister would leave food, but unable to approach the cat or leer it in. finally in a last ditch effort we left a "have a heart" trap hoping to get the cat. My husband went out the first night to check it (my sister and I to afraid other critters might find there way in), and my heart melted when my husband called and said "hope someone is ready because I have one really angry cat in a trap". So the cat is now with my sister and she says he is 100% love, and so affectionate and happy. So with finally catching this cat I feel I can move on. Decided to finally put up a tree, which thrilled my son, I'm slowly finding my way through the grief and finding a little Christmas magic -My father would have wanted it that way!

"Goodbyes"

Trying to hold it together has been tough this week. My father at only age 59 got ill and rapidly declined. In a decision that is unfair to make for someone of such a young age my sister and I had to make the difficult decision to make my father comfortable as life saving measures were to big a gamble and being dependent on machines was not my fathers wishes.
It is difficult when your world shuts down, and all around you life goes on, people continue shopping, buying there lattes, putting gas in there cars, laughing at jokes. Making that drive to the hospital the last few days I wanted to scream at the people in the cars near me, stop it! stop and pay attention he is really sick! To these innocent strangers I wanted to scream!
It is tough to take those phone calls from well wishers wanting updates, reliving over and over the grim details, and just when you think the tears have stopped, a flood of emotion erupts as you try to console the person on the other end that its the right thing.
I second guessed myself several times wondering if the right decisions were made, but that was just spinning my wheels and got me nowhere. (just to clarify, the RIGHT decisions were made)
I met many of my fathers friends that I did not know prior to this event, who came and shared there wonderful stories. Stories that I had never heard- without knowing these people made me laugh when I Really needed to laugh.(discovered my father was quite the prankster). I also learned the name of my fathers friends, for years I only new them by there nicknames, like "bonehead", "no toes" "butt head".... you get the picture (don't ask about "no toes its a long story")
I promised my father to bequeath his favorite fishing pole "big red" to his only grandchild, the fishing pole he taught him to fish with.
I met some some Amazzzzzzzzzing hospital staff who when you are at your lowest they are at there best to keep you afloat and going.
The hardest thing of all this week was saying goodbye. I do believe we were granted a gift in having an opportunity to say "goodbye" to say "I love you", but that does not make saying "goodbye" any easier.
"I love you Pop, come visit me in my dreams"!!!

Bad luck ;(

Serious and focused she cocked her head to one side looking on intensely at the puppy starring back. We giggled and laughed when she started barking at her reflection, eager for the little puppy in he mirror to come play. She soon became impatient and irritated at the dog in the "looking glass", and began jumping and barking louder, eventually charging at the mirror. Crash!!! The mirror fell off the wall crashing into a million little pieces, our puppy unharmed, the puppy in the mirror not so good! Now is that 7 years of bad luck in human years or dog years?