Death and a 3 year old

Wednesday night (8 hours after Oma took her last breath):
I told Lovie that Daddy would be picking her up from school tomorrow and that Grandma would be spending the night when they got home.

"Where will she sleep," she asked. I told her she’d sleep on the couch. “Well where will Oma sleep?” she asked. I told her Oma wouldn’t be coming. That she was no longer sick. That she was now an Angel in Heaven.

That was about that; we were getting ready for bed and onward she moved to the next task at hand.


Thursday morning:
On the way to school, I reminded Lovie again that Daddy would pick her up later and that Grandma was spending the night. She asked what I would be doing at work. I told her. After I ran out of explaining duties and that Grandma would coming over and I would be with her, she asked what I would be doing with Grandma. I told her we’d be going to a funeral home.

"What’s that?"

I explained it’s a place where some people gather after someone dies to say goodbye to them.

"Because when someone dies you never see them again."

Then I told her, again, that Oma was no longer sick, but that she died and that’s who everyone will be saying goodbye to at the funeral home.

“So then I won’t ever see Oma again?” she asked.

My stomach dropped, tears started to well. "No, baby. You won’t."

"That will make me very sad," she said, her voice softening.

"Me, too, baby but we have lots and lots of pictures and stories and we will never ever forget about her."

"Can you turn the music louder?" she asked.

Fin

Her last breath was taken late yesterday morning... 3.27.13.

Her suffering is finally over.

She will never be forgotten. Especially that smile.

There will only ever be one Oma and she is in every sunrise and every blooming flower. Forever and always.

Sweet dreams Oma. Xoxo

enough already!

I admit to being totally and completely oblivious to worldly shit, let alone stuff going on in my own homeland... but thanks to Facebook, and an image I saw any time I logged on yesterday, I learned that the US Courts were going to look at legalizing gay marriage yesterday.

Then I came across this image, also on Facebook:

And really, that says it all for me.

Because, if things were like they were just 40 years ago, my Lovie wouldn't be here today.

And why? Because it would've been illegal for her dad and I to marry and have her?!

What the hell kind of shit sense does that make?

What does my relationship status have to do with you, your cousin, or your fancy uncle sitting on the Supreme Court?

It very well can be the fact that I'm watching and waiting for one of the most important people in my life to pass on... but life is too fucking short to not allow people to love whom they want to love when their love isn't negatively effecting anyone else.

It just doesn't make any sense as to why this is even an issue. I understand there's laws and shit, but ... enough already! When two consenting adults love one another, let them love one another. Let them marry if that's what they want to do. Let them have children. Let them love. And live. Because one day that life will end... and it's just not right if they can't look back and say they lived their life to the fullest because of a fucking law.



it's been a while but hooking this bitch up with the fine folks at Yeah Write. because i can!

gift

It’s hard not to smile when she does.

Never forced—those are everywhere—her smile brightens the dim,

lifts the despondent.

Her goodness, her kindness, her warmth…

it’s like she tries to infect us all with it through that smile.

She’s the epitome of stunning beauty—it radiates from her core.

 

What a gift she’s been.

What a gift she’ll be.

Even when the smile finally fades and her last breath is taken.

 

My Oma.

Linking up with Trifecta.

GUEST POST: Coconut Butter Poached Lobster Served with Delicious Smoked Clams and Cauliflower Recipe

Written by Kendra Thornton

Coconut Butter Poached Lobster Served with Delicious Smoked Clams and Cauliflower Recipe

Without doubt, the best vacation of my life is the most recent one we spent at the stunning Kimpton Hotel ranked amongst some of the top hotels in Miami. I wanted to take a taste of our amazing experiences back home to share with everyone in Chicago, so I was thrilled when I discovered this decadent recipe from Area 31 Restaurant and Bar. Not only is it a taste of Miami, it is perfect for impressing guests!

Coconut Butter Poached Lobster:

- 4 cups lobster stock
- 1 piece of ginger, crushed
- 2 dried chilies
- 4 cups coconut milk
- 2 cups coconut butter
- 2 1½-lb lobsters (Nova Scotia are best)

Method:

- Bring the stock, chilies and ginger to a simmer. Add the coconut milk. When it reaches a simmer again, whisk in the coconut butter.

- Transfer the mixture to a 6-inch hotel pan with an immersion circulates. Set it to 135'F or 59’C run it and allow it to come to room temperature. A deep baking dish also works.
- Remove claws and tail and blanch in simmering salted water for 6 minutes.

- Remove lobsters from their shells when cool enough.
- Roast the lobster in a heavy-bottom pan for 15 minutes. Place them in a small stockpot with enough salted water to almost cover them. Bring the water to a boil and simmer for 2 hours.
- Split the tails down the middle. Season and sear them quickly on high heat. Put tails and claws into buerre monte, your butter sauce. After about four minutes, take them out.


Smoked Clams and Cauliflower:

- A couple handfuls of wood chips
- 2 cups cauliflower flowerets
- 8 small neck clams
- 16 oz. lobster stock
- 1 tbsp. coconut butter

In a 4 ½ hotel pan on a burner, throw in the wood chips and cover with shallower perforated half hotel pan. Put the cauliflower and clams into a pan covered with foil. When smoke starts to seep out, remove from heat. Repeat after letting stand for 10 minutes. Set clams aside.
Place cauliflower, liquid from smoked clams, and enough stock to cover halfway in a small stockpot. Simmer over medium heat until tender. Season to taste. Mash and fold in the coconut butter.

Mizuna Puree:

- 4 cups mizuna greens
- ½ cup spinach, blanched
- ½ fresh parsley, blanched
- ¼ cup coconut milk
- ¼ cup coconut butter

Blend all ingredients in a blender until very smooth.

To Serve:

On one side of the plate, spread some of the mizuna puree. Put some cauliflower and one-half lobster tail on top, with a claw. Top it off with a smoked clam and mizuna greens. I hope you enjoy this meal just as much as my husband and I do and I have to say I feel like quite the chef when I create it (but the secret is…it really isn’t very hard!)



Kendra Thornton, "former Orbitz Director of Communications and promoted into full time position in the care of Motherhood", can be found on Twitter @KendraThornton.


if you're interested in Guest Posting here, drop me a line at finallymom@gmail.com

it's gonna be okay

This child of mine. This sweet child of mine.

The beginning of this year was rough. She was turning into this ... three-year-old.

Or something.

She had this nasty little attitude about everything and it was making parenting her hard. I found myself frowning a lot instead of laughing. I found myself counting out loud and in my head (out loud to put her into Time Outs, in my head to hopefully contain myself from blowing up) whenever I was around her. Bedtimes were the absolute worst--taking up to 2 hours some nights.

But then something happened.

I'm not sure when it was or what it was--and it very well could've been me who changed--but something happened and parenting her became a joy again.

Time outs went from daily occurrences to maybe once a week to once a month. Bedtimes still take about an hour, but there isn't any more yelling.

I think the attitude has a lot to do with the busyness of December: Santa, Christmas, Rudolph, her birthday, New Year's Eve... I think things get so exciting come December, that when middle of January tries to bring about a normalcy again, she fights it because I'm pretty sure I complained about what a Pill she was early last year, too.

Well, now that we're in mid-March, we're back to Normal and I really like it here.

It (normalcy) lets me see the bigger picture and that helps us all, I think.

I know Lovie can sense my stress, my sorrow, my sadness from Oma's slow death. And it's hard for me to keep that from her and I guess it's OK not to try anymore. I mean, for months now I've tried bottling it up inside of me... but why?

We visited Oma on Saturday. I was so reluctant to visit with Lovie the past month because I didn't really want her to see Oma in such a sad state. But my mom thought that since Lovie is such a good girl (her words), that maybe bringing her by would be good. She missed seeing her and she thought Oma might really like it, too.

And she did.

Oma smiled like I haven't seen her smile since the last time Lovie was there. And so did I. Instead of feeling sick to my stomach over Oma dying any day now, I was content. And so was Oma. She had life in her blue eyes again. She looked ... peaceful. And happy.

And that's saying a lot about someone who's withering away to nothing.

Oma still isn't eating much of anything, she's still sleeping almost all day and night, and she's recently stopped taking all medication except for a pain patch she wears. She's super tired and very ready.

And now she's wearing a smile on her face.

And so am I.

desperation

Photo credit: Bérenger ZYLA / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

 

 

She’s got to be here somewhere.

“Mama? Mama?!!”

Who are all these people? Where’s my mommy?! What happened? Where am I? Oooh there she is… I thought. Oh where is my mommy?

 

"Mommy?!!"

 

 

 

 

hooking up with Trifecta again.

 

 

 

praying... begging for peace

The evening news ended and my grandfather, 90, was walking from the bathroom to the bedroom to get some rest. My grandmother (Oma) was knitting in the living room and still watching TV. Their eyes met. He smiled at her, waved, and blew her a kiss—his way of saying good-night. Thirty seconds later, Oma heard a disturbingly loud thump in the bedroom. She called out his name and ran into the bedroom to find him lying on the floor. She screamed out to my sleeping mother (who had moved in with them just one week prior and with whom my grandfather told he was glad she was there so that Oma wouldn’t be all alone) to call 9-1-1.

He was pronounced dead an hour later at the hospital.

It was such a shock to get the call from my mother in the middle of the night.

So many things ran through my mind and every inch of me screamed in aching pain.

My beloved, highly respected, very healthy grandfather was gone… just like that.

His death changed me, that’s for sure. And, I believe, it changed me for the better: it was then that I truly realized that life is a gift that can be taken from us at any moment.

 

That was seven years ago. Since his passing, I’ve really done my damndest to live each day to the fullest. Even during not-so-great times like after I miscarried in 2008.

But now… Oma is dying.

She’s been dying for several years now. A slow death thanks to Congestive Heart Failure (CHF). A gruesomely slow death to the absolute most giving, most nurturing, most loving woman you would ever meet.

My heart not only aches for her, it bleeds.

2013 has not been kind to her at all. She really didn’t think she would see Christmas 2012 and yet here we are in mid-March and she’s still breathing… barely.

She cries to my mother, her primary caregiver, asking why she can’t die. Why everyone else can die, but she can’t.

She’s literally skin and bones.

The CHF has her breathing through oxygen tubes 24/7. It’s also destroyed any ability to eat.

Witnessing all of this… supporting my mom as she cares for her dying mother 24/7… it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It’s downright cruel the way this is happening to her!

 

I’m not a religious person. I was raised Catholic but I haven’t practiced in a good 20 years. This is a time when I wish I did practice. Maybe then my prayers would be answered?

 

source

 

My prayers for peace.

I’m not wanting her to keep living. I’m not looking for a miracle here. I just want peace for her.

 

Dear God, Dear Universe, Dear Who/Whatever please give her peace. Please.

 

the empty chair

There's stuff I want to say here but just can't.

So much stuff.

But it's just too hard.

Instead...

this photo makes me smile so much.

It's a party Lovie created. My little 3-year-old set this table by herself for no real reason. She loves doing this kind of stuff. Always has. She's such a caretaker, this one. Always caring for her friends, and her dolls. Man, does she love her dolls.

It's not just her middle name that takes after my grandmother. It's her personality, too.

* smile *

My goodness, I'm truly so blessed.

No matter what happens and when, I'm so very blessed.

33 words: Stone

The gravestone—

purchased 30+ years ago after her parents’ burials

—has been waiting for her.

Her husband’s final date was added in 2005.

Her own expiration date will appear there soon.

In stone.

hooking up with the talented peeps of Trifecta again. constructive criticism always welcome.