Something different happened to me this evening. I logged onto my blog, and I looked at my stats, and then noticed, someone had visited one of the posts I had written over a year ago. I could not remember the post.
So, I did what anyone would do, and I looked up the post and then proceeded to look and read through the next 3 months worth of posts. Sometimes I have a hard time writing a post, especially lately. But to be honest with y’all, the past hour of reading through my posts, has given me such a warm feeling inside. I even made the Electrician look at some of the pictures I had posted, and asked him if he remembered.
Those were some truly good times. I still have them, a little bit fewer in between. But I do know this. Those times were awesome, and while I may not have the truly “awesome” times with Momma anymore, I do have some really memorable moments.
I guess this is, a part of getting older. I don’t really like getting older, and I truly see myself as the Farmer’s “little girl”. While I know I am a Wife, and a Mother, I will always be Daddy’s little girl.
Although after a conversation today with the Farmer, I might re-think that. You see, I try to take care of the Farmer and Momma. We have Caregiver Beth that comes in on a daily basis and she takes ‘care” of Momma. Me? I take care of both of them. I actually did something today (for goodness sake DO NOT TELL the Electrician), I actually IRONED with STARCH the Farmer’s shirts. The Farmer now has 8 shirts in his closet that have been washed, dried and STARCHED. (Hey I was in the Air Force, I know how to iron and make the appropriate creases….). I don’t like to iron, in any way shape or form, but for my Daddy, I will do it.
I know I am getting myself into trouble here, but it’s okay. After reading some of my former posts, I see the progression of the disease of Momma. I am not happy about it, but I am okay with it. We’ve had oh so many good times. A Bunch of ones before we even knew Momma had Parkinson’s. I have memories of the Farmer and Momma come to visit me and my family, swimming in Hotel pools, going out for dinner, and then when I moved back to Illinois. Momma and I making decisions about dinner and cooking together. Momma letting me and the boys moving into her home. Momma and I going to aerobics class together, eating Steak and Shake Cheeseburgers after class.
Momma practicing her driving to get her first drivers license ever. Me, being scared to death and pushing on the brake on the passenger side of the floor, but still having faith in her. Going shopping and finding something silly and buying it. Meeting Momma and the Farmer for lunch when I could.
I have so many memories that are flooding through me. I will share last night with y’all though, because the joke was truly on me. You see, I cleaned out momma’s closet lately, simply because we needed more room to put momma’s “supplies” in. I put a bunch of her clothes downstairs into the “unknown” room. While putting clothes down in the closet in the room downstairs, I came across a jacket, that looked familiar. I let it go for a couple of days, and last night I brought it up to the Farmer.
“Uhm, Dad, it’s winter and there are probably people who need coats, could we donate some of Momma’s to the cause?” I don’t blame the Farmer for what he told me because I understand. He replied with “When she dies, we will let them go”. I stated, there is one down there, that I want”. He told me to take it. I went downstairs and brought it up and then truly looked at it.
Yep, it was mine, from about 19 years ago, it still had the ski lift ticket on it, and a lighter zipped up in the pocket. After looking at it and then examining it, I told the Farmer, “Uhm, Dad this is MY jacket….what else are you hoarding that is mine????” The Farmer giggled and stated “Nothing”…yea right!!!!!
I got my jacket back from 19 years ago, however, when I showed the Electrician my jacket I proudly brought home, HE giggled. Apparently, I am not the same size I was 19 years ago because the coat no longer fits. SIGH….
The fact of the matter is, we all grow, (some of us expand….sigh again), but life progresses, but I still have my memories of better times of Momma the Farmer and me…..