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Posts Tagged ‘New Orleans’

Mom had a great time at the wedding reception, weekend before last.

 Seating placed her at the “close relatives of the bride” table. My sister was there and her two sons and their wives and an elderly gentleman, who is not blood relation to us, and who looked extremely feeble.  But, there was life in him, yet.

 Mom absolutely HATES using a walker and refuses to be photographed with it.  The gentleman had a cane.

 As she sat down across from the elderly gentleman, he announced,

 “She’s the sexiest woman here.”

 After thank you’s were said, he stated,

 “You know, I don’t need to use this cane.”

 “Well, I don’t have to use this walker either.” She replied, right before getting up and wheeling her walker to the table Master’s daughter and I were gossiping at, in the general seating area.

 She brought her wine with her and, as she is telling us how she was “hit on” by the elderly man, she was drinking her wine, not sipping.  She was drinking it and stating that she does not like wine.  We are all joking and laughing and Master’s Daughter suddenly notices that grandma’s glass is empty, and grandma again states that she does not like wine; all the while licking the last drops off the glass.

Mom came back to our table after dinner, to talk to a growing crowd of grandchildren, who she had not seen in way too long.  I was up and down taking photographs, but there was at least one Long Island Iced Tea in mom’s evening.  She had never tasted it and wanted to as she had been in New Orleans years ago, with her two sisters.  The sister who was driving had about seven Long Island Iced Teas. 

 At that time, mom had no idea that alcohol was in a Long Island Iced Tea.  She thought her baby sister was drinking regular iced tea. Mom can be very naive, but realized alcohol was involved, finally, when her sister started dancing the hula and insulting waiters.  But, I digress again.

 After the wedding, Master’s daughter rented a motel room for the three of us. It was the very first time I ever shared a room with mom, when she did not take an hour and a half to get ready for bed. She was changed and in bed before I even realized it. 

 Master’s daughter brought some Bailey’s for me and a treat for her and we got our PJs on and sat with our legs under the covers talking, when mom interrupted.

 “What’s that transparent thing over there?”  She asked as she pointed to the plastic bag my cup had been wrapped in that was now sitting wrinkled on the dresser. 

 “A piece of plastic.”  Master’s daughter replied as we burst out giggling.

 This is mom’s third experience with alcohol in eighty-six years.  It’s always good for a giggle.

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So much to say today.  When we took the boys, we were told never to come back to our see our other grandchildren who we had babysat and spent time with continually for years. We were like second parents.  Had I known how bad the abuse of the boys was—I mean, we knew some and that is why we took them, but I had no idea it involved a month locked in the closet, three days without food—had I known this type of thing, I would have called DFS out immediately.  Instead, the step-father got what he wanted. He wanted the three boys who were not his blood out of his family and he wanted us out of his life.  He was smiling when we left.

 

I woke up with a dream of my granddaughters.  I often dream of the oldest girl.  She and I had a special bond. While granddaughter’s number two and three, favored Grandpa and granddaughter number four was Gaffer’s baby. Oh, how she loved her big brother.  Granddaughter number one was my girl.

 

She seemed to favor Granddad to begin with but I had gone away for a month and when I returned, the babe in arms she was then looked at me with such admiration and love and that was it. She was my girl, from then on.  When we would arrive and be descended upon by the other children (this is a family of eleven children), granddaughter number one would hold back. I would look around for her and she would be at the edge of the room, near a corner, watching with her slight, shy grin to me.  When the other children then focused on their granddad for tickles and play time, she would come and sit on my lap and almost melt into my body and we would talk.  I miss her so much.  I miss all of them so much.

 

So, in my dream, I was at my mother’s apartment, outside and instead of the city houses, there was a large park and there, playing in the park was a passel of children. With the modern children playing were my two oldest granddaughters, in pale and shapeless, worn prairie dresses. And, they ran to me and I picked them up, and held them tight to me and was so happy. 

 

I tried not to wake up, but I did.  It has been three years now since I have seen them. How much they must have grown.  I am told they will find me.  But, knowing the damage that my grandson’s (who live with me now) suffer from, I fear for what shape they will be in. 

 

On other fronts:

 

I am watching the storm coming into New Orleans as I finish my morning rituals. It brings back a feeling that I have been through and, I’m sure, a lot of New Orleans families are going through now.  Your life becomes focused on one thing. All other concerns and fears and worries are pushed to the back and there is one focus of your life. Will you have a home, when you get back?

 

I went through fire evacuations several times during my years in Wyoming.  The worse was when we were told, as we sat in a Red Cross shelter, that the fire had reached our rural street of four houses and surrounded a house.  It had but the firemen saved all our street’s homes. 

 

Then, we were in Northern Indiana, for Electrician grandson’s graduation, and one of the boys came out and told me that I might want to get online and check our area because it was said to be under water.  So, for that night and the next day, we did not know what we would go home to.  Many people did lose their home and I still remember watching the damage from the tornado a week before, as we drove home. We had only slight water damage.  We were lucky.

 

But, I know the fear that is in New Orleans and area heart’s and my heart is with you today.  If you don’t mind me reserving a little bit of it for granddaughters.

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