Rather than start an entirely new blog, I'll just make entries periodically in this one about my dad and his family. He's already been dead for more than a year . . . and I don't want to lose stories and details too much.
His sister Gertrude passed away on 28 January 2017. She had been in poor health and I'm super glad he got to go see her the summer of 2015 or 2014. Tom took him to Canada and that was my dad's last time seeing his two remaining siblings - Therese and Gertrude. His little sister Therese died, then my dad, and now Gertrude. They were the last of that generation in our immediate Somers family.
My cousin Monique called to tell me about it. (I have more than one cousin named Monique! It was Therese's daughter.) The funeral was on February 25 in Quebec City. Gertrude was cremated. Ann sent flowers on behalf of the four of us kids.
Monique (in addition to losing her own mom recently) said that her husband Denis had hip surgery in July. He had some cardiac issues during the surgery and ended up spending fifty days in the hospital! Then in early February, he went in for a right shoulder replacement.
My goodness, this aging stuff isn't fun. As Louie and I adjust to some of the challenges and aches of getting older, I realize that I really need to take better care of myself! Life is far too short.
Showing posts with label Somers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Somers. Show all posts
Friday, March 31, 2017
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Venting on a Dutiful Daughter Day
I thought about packing my journal to come with me up to my dad's house today, but left it at home. As I started making a LIST of all the things I wanted to write about (catharsis), I decided to blog about some of them. Since my blogs are mainly for myself and I don't think many other humans ever look at them, I'm going to reduce my to-do list by venting here now. (Dad just went to lay down for a nap.)
1. Why oh why does he bother with a hat and gloves in the winter? He will wear them from the house to the car, then take them off and leave them in the car. Two weeks ago, he was commenting on how cold it was (as he removed the hat and gloves before walking up to the church). I said, "Why don't you keep your hat and gloves on to keep you warm?" No answer. Then in church, he put his hands inside his opposite shirt sleeves so he could keep them warm. "Do you want me to get your gloves for you?" No. Then he wanted his coat back on so I helped him. Then he loudly ripped the velcro straps open to adjust them to be as big an opening as possible. Then he tried to fit his hands inside the opposite sleeve of his coat to keep his hands warm. "Do you want your gloves?!" No answer. Sigh. Similar thing today.
2. Stopping in inconvenient places to do things. Today, it was leaving church. I'm holding the door at the back of the sanctuary open for him. He stops just outside so that I can't let the door shut and hit him. He takes out his hat and laboriously puts it on. Twenty paces earlier, I offered him his hat. He wanted to hold it and carry it out. Old-school manners? Then why leave the door open to the cold outdoors while the worship service is still going?!?!? I just don't understand him. Nearly every time we go to McDonald's, he has to stop his walker in the doorway or some other awkward place where others try to get by and take his wallet out, remove cash, and hand it to me. More than once I've said, "Can you just wait until we get indoors?"
3. The joys of mucus. I empathize with his throat-clearing and nose-blowing because I too suffer the curse of active sinus issues (allergies, etc.). However, why he can't just hawk a loogie is beyond me. He uses lots and lots of kleenixes and napkins (which is totally fine) but he will spit up into his mouth and then wipe it on a kleenix while holding it fully open. It's kind of like licking an envelope shut except he doesn't shut the tissue until after he has licked his mucus onto it in rows. It is truly gross. Then he'll fold it neatly and do it all over again, three or four times. I strongly dislike this routine but get to witness it a half dozen times on my Dutiful Daughter days.
4. His inability to communicate directly. When his throat cancer and radiation treatments were most troublesome, I bought him a frosty from Wendy's (or a shake from McDonald's - I don't remember). It was weeks later (after someone else had bought him a chocolate Frosty) that Louise said, "He doesn't like chocolate shakes. He prefers vanilla." I was so surprised! Why didn't he TELL me "I don't like chocolate." This happens again and again and again. I like Ann's phrase, "You have to make your needs known." I think of all the work we do at school to teach students to self-advocate. My dad needs those lessons. It's maddening how often our communication at the Somers household gets convoluted because we don't just say what we mean.
Okay. I think I'm done for now. It's amazing how cathartic this can be. He is who he is. All I can control is how I react to it.
1. Why oh why does he bother with a hat and gloves in the winter? He will wear them from the house to the car, then take them off and leave them in the car. Two weeks ago, he was commenting on how cold it was (as he removed the hat and gloves before walking up to the church). I said, "Why don't you keep your hat and gloves on to keep you warm?" No answer. Then in church, he put his hands inside his opposite shirt sleeves so he could keep them warm. "Do you want me to get your gloves for you?" No. Then he wanted his coat back on so I helped him. Then he loudly ripped the velcro straps open to adjust them to be as big an opening as possible. Then he tried to fit his hands inside the opposite sleeve of his coat to keep his hands warm. "Do you want your gloves?!" No answer. Sigh. Similar thing today.
2. Stopping in inconvenient places to do things. Today, it was leaving church. I'm holding the door at the back of the sanctuary open for him. He stops just outside so that I can't let the door shut and hit him. He takes out his hat and laboriously puts it on. Twenty paces earlier, I offered him his hat. He wanted to hold it and carry it out. Old-school manners? Then why leave the door open to the cold outdoors while the worship service is still going?!?!? I just don't understand him. Nearly every time we go to McDonald's, he has to stop his walker in the doorway or some other awkward place where others try to get by and take his wallet out, remove cash, and hand it to me. More than once I've said, "Can you just wait until we get indoors?"
3. The joys of mucus. I empathize with his throat-clearing and nose-blowing because I too suffer the curse of active sinus issues (allergies, etc.). However, why he can't just hawk a loogie is beyond me. He uses lots and lots of kleenixes and napkins (which is totally fine) but he will spit up into his mouth and then wipe it on a kleenix while holding it fully open. It's kind of like licking an envelope shut except he doesn't shut the tissue until after he has licked his mucus onto it in rows. It is truly gross. Then he'll fold it neatly and do it all over again, three or four times. I strongly dislike this routine but get to witness it a half dozen times on my Dutiful Daughter days.
4. His inability to communicate directly. When his throat cancer and radiation treatments were most troublesome, I bought him a frosty from Wendy's (or a shake from McDonald's - I don't remember). It was weeks later (after someone else had bought him a chocolate Frosty) that Louise said, "He doesn't like chocolate shakes. He prefers vanilla." I was so surprised! Why didn't he TELL me "I don't like chocolate." This happens again and again and again. I like Ann's phrase, "You have to make your needs known." I think of all the work we do at school to teach students to self-advocate. My dad needs those lessons. It's maddening how often our communication at the Somers household gets convoluted because we don't just say what we mean.
Okay. I think I'm done for now. It's amazing how cathartic this can be. He is who he is. All I can control is how I react to it.
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