And the war machine is up and running

 The US bombed Syria tonight.

Sigh. 

Seasons of life

 The pandemic clearly put into perspective different seasons of life for our family.

We moved to help a daughter's family while their children were little. Negotiating a new area while trying to balance a growing family brought challenges. Appointments, walks in the area, shopping. Since we had BTDT being a military family we were acutely aware of the challenges. Since we were at a good season of transition, moving to help was a good thing. The bonus prize happened when our son moved into the same area. I, especially, have loved holding babies, running with toddlers and giving tools for reading. It has been a season of pure joy. Visiting museums, seeing sites, watching dolphins---all great!

 After 75,000 miles of driving, the pandemic made it clear that the distance in miles and time made it almost impossible to be of help. Suddenly, we were the ones in need. And we have every desire to not be in need, but be of purpose. 

Transition is hard for all involved. The adult children feel the desire to connect and would like us to be close enough to connect on a monthly basis.  We are way too young to be sitting in the window waiting for a car. 

We are creatures of moving and changing. Neither my husband nor I have lived in the same place more then seven years since we were each 18. I went to three universities, taught in three schools before we were married. He also went to university before Vietnam. After that time he spent summer and fall in northern Idaho and Alaska earning money while spending winter semesters at University for nine years. After meeting, and marrying, we averaged 18 months in a place. 

But I digress

This time we are moving solely for us. A place we desire to live. Mountains, rivers and an easy drive to the coast. We both love to hike and fish. We love winter...really. I love the PCH and the sunshine when I put the top down on my convertible. We look forward to helping in a community that is growing like a weed. We want to help new people coming to be citizens. We want to be a part. 

We have no hesitation about getting on a plane to visit. The visits will be with purpose and joy. Maybe we will meet places. That would be fine as well. They know they are firmly in our hearts- and we in theirs. 

And then, maybe in ten or so years, it will be time to transition again. This time for more help, need and the purpose for them will be us. That is good as well. Every season.... 

February

 It has been a very long month.

February used to be one of my favorite months- Statehood Day for Arizona, My best friend's birthday, My sister/brother in law and nephew's birthdays, Valentines Day....Beautiful weather in Phoenix month.

Not half over? Sigh.

The end of January saw me on a plane to Phoenix.

Three masks (what is the current mandate for air travel?), Clorox wipes, water bottle, snacks, gloves, warm coat, boots, flip flops, slippers...and some clothes. Fifty people on the plane including some Airline kids traveling alone. Fascinating. 

My nephew (36) had congestive heart failure at twenty four. He survived--but has been living a very tough life since then. At first it was a life of distance, then a life of dependency. We have lived through each other's PTSD time and time again. Him for me and I for him. But this time he was dying. My sister had sprung him from the hospital and he was being cared for by Hospice at her house. 

I haven't ever watched someone  to the end. Those last few days of struggle for words. Those last bites of ice cream. Those last bits of water and lip balm.  The last few hours of struggle for breath. and after...The last few hours of waiting for the funeral home. 

The kid had a wicked sense of humor and had developed a close set of 2500 followers on Facebook that seemed to come out of no where when he was in need. I understand he was doing the same for them in the last three years. Two of them, whom I did not know, were with us- his mom, dad and uncle- listening to a wicked comedy routine and some modern country music when his last breath left him.  Peaceful?  I wouldn't mind going that way (if I couldn't go in the middle of the night). 

Two days later it was my sister's birthday. They will have the memorial on my nephew's birthday. 

Three days after my nephew passed,  my mom was transported to the hospital. They called us as the ambulance left. Of course we were not allowed to see her, or help her, or anything. At 90, She is a "do not do anything person".  She has a number of issues. The only doctor who would talk to us got on the phone, in front of her, told us  that she had to have something aspirated and had to wait the weekend, but she would be out by Monday afternoon. He promised. 

I flew home at 7 am on Sunday. Only double masked this time. No more wipes. Gloves. 50 people on the flight again...and I slept the entire flight. 

Procedure went against her wishes and became invasive. Drains. UGGG..."the good doctor" was not in the room when it happened, but was pleasantly mad as hell when he found out that they planned on keeping her for TWO weeks. Oh boy. 

He told us the only way to get her OUT of the hospital was to declare her for hospice. That wasn't a fun proposition to make to her? How do you tell someone that you think they will probably be ok, but the only way to get her out of the clutches of do gooders was to say she is going to die??? 

Then the good doctor stayed past rounds. When the doctor who demanded mom stay left for the day,  the good doctor signed her out with Hospice.... She "slipped out" in an ambulance at 8 pm!

Mom got back at her community with many rumors of a late night break out.  We were under the belief that we could arrange things and she could go back to her apartment with tons of back up in a few days....nope.

I, simply, will never go into a Continuing Care Community. 

They have her in quarantine - with three negative COVID tests. The control over her is WAY over the top. She isn't allowed to go back to her apartment until the quarantine is over---which they have determined is 14 days. It is SO frustrating. Now, she is thinking she is going to die again.... UGGG. 

I am home, knowing that I will not be at another funeral any time soon. If we can keep her sane, Mom will be feisty in no time. She might have cancer and intermittent kidneys, but she will die on her terms and not on a machine and not in a nursing care bed! No one there knows how determined My mom can be!!!

And so February goes on. 

Wasn't 2021 supposed to be better?

At least I am back to packing. Summer is coming and I am MOVING to a free state! Woo Hoo. Only seven more days of quarantine for me.