Category: Delta

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A Speedy Jaunt To D-ville

So, about yesterday’s adventure… We had such a lovely, long day with Mom in Delta I had no time to write and post about it last evening, as I had said I would.

We bawled. We laughed. We chortled. We told a zillion some-what true stories. Millard Care and Rehab (MCR) shook, rocked, rolled, and roared yesterday. Damn! Snowman Bow Tie o’ the Day and Winter Cape o’ the Day had a grand Saturday hangin’ out with Mom. Mom is, as Suzanne says, the Belle of the Ball at MCR. And she is treated as such.

I never alert Mom when I’m headed down to see her, in case something happens to prevent me from showing up when I say I will– so she’s always a bit surprised when we walk in. Yesterday, she immediately started to cry. She kept assuring me and Suzanne that her tears were tears of joy. What a welcome for us! Of course, I know Mom’s joyful tears were all for Suzanne. I’m the third wheel when they’re with each other. (Poor me, eh?) Suzanne gave Mom some winter table runner-y things (I don’t know what they’re called) she had quilted for Mom’s table and chest of drawers. Goal for Suzanne!

Skitter even drove down with us and got to touch her nose to Mom’s hand from outside, through the screen window in Mom’s room.

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that Skitter and Mom took to each other immediately when they first met– despite Skitter’s fear of everything, and despite Mom’s dislike for touching pets. Skitter has always gently pawed at Mom, and Mom has always enjoyed petting Skitter. Skitter has never been afraid of Mom’s touch. Of course, I’m sure it helped that Mom’s hands always smelled of whatever yummy thing she had been cooking.

For our visit with Mom, I wore the latest cape Suzanne created for me. [I’ll display it more completely in a future post.] The cape is dramatic, to say the least. Mom loved both sides of it. In the photo with me and Mom together, Mom is in snuggled in the cape with me. But, of course, you can’t see that very well because my stupid arm is in the way– because I’m such a genius selfie photographer.

One of the coolest features of the cape is that both fabrics are covered in glitter. By the time we were done with all the hugs and kisses of yesterday, Mom had glitter on her clothes and her face, and she sparkled like the sparkler she still is. I love that sparkly broad.

The second picture shows a bit of the other side of my cape, but it primarily shows you the permanent sign in the hall outside Mom’s room, identifying her as the room’s resident. She prizes her bewitching name sign, and will not allow it to be changed even though Halloween is long gone. If nothing else, Mom knows exactly what she’s all about. Clearly, she’s an over-the-top entertainer in her soul.

When I knew Suzanne would be driving down with me, I knew there would be a trip to MOM’S CRAFTS on the schedule. I even ribbed her that her purpose for driving to Delta with me had nothing to do with Mom, but was to go to MOM’S CRAFTS. She ducked out from MCR on her own for that foray. [And thank you, Kyla, for allowing Suzanne to spend our entire Christmas budget on fabric while she was shopping there.] When Suzanne returned to MCR, she gave Mom a peak at her fabric booty, and Mom was in high Heaven checking it out. And then Mom fell all over herself complimenting Suzanne about her mastery of all things sewing and crafting. Suzanne’s sewing head swelled with her own greatness. If Mom had given Suzanne one more compliment, Suzanne’s swelled head would not have fit inside the car. I would have had to tie her to the roof rack for the drive back to Centerville.

I can’t even begin to tell you exactly what we did or what we talked about while playing with Mom, but I think even the MCR staff had a fine time watching and hearing us have a rowdy party. All I can I can say is that the noise and affection never stopped. And the love glittered the entire time.

Like I said about Mom a few paragraphs ago, I love that sparkly old broad.

HOLIDAY TIE TALLY: 29 Bow ties. 74 Neckties.

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Got Flakes? Got Dad?

One snowflake Bow Tie o’ the Day. Four snowflake Ties o’ the Day. Just snowflakes.

I have almost nothing to say about snowflakes except that I love watching them fall to earth– especially when I’m watching them through a picture window, as I’m sitting in a toasty house eating ice cream. Hills of ice cream are the only cold things I want to experience. The cold that snow needs in order to survive makes me cold. That’s all it does for me.

I certainly don’t enjoy winter sports, although I have tried most of them– just in case I liked one enough to suffer through the freezing part. There is no sport or activity of any kind that I enjoy participating in enough to play/do it in cold weather. I’ll watch winter sports and programs on TV, and I’ll smile at how grand the background snow looks, but that’s as close as I’ll get to being anywhere actually in it.

Dad felt the same as I do about cold weather. Whenever we watched M*A*S*H*, if it was an episode in which the characters were freezing, it gave Dad the shivers and made him cringe. Dad had to mention it every time one of those episodes played. But he liked the show enough to keep watching despite the story’s temperature.

Dad died in the first week of December, in 2007. It was cold, and there was snow on the ground. Dad would have liked to survey the winter scene from his picture window in his own home, in his own chair, while he read The Salt Lake Tribune and dozed off. And he would have enjoyed driving through the chilly landscape in his warm truck, characteristically on the lookout for coyotes. He wouldn’t be doing either of those things anymore.

Despite the gray cold, the Delta cemetery was a picturesque scene on the day we let Dad go to his nap in the ground. As his casket was lowered into the earth, I wished I’d been able to swaddle him in his favorite quilt Mom made for him. It was lavender. And it would have kept him warm.

Holiday Tie Tally: 10 Bow Ties. 19 Neckties. So far.

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Helen Sr. And Her Grandbishop

Tie o’ the Day is worn by Bishop Travis– Mom’s favorite grandchild. Of course, each of Mom’s grandchildren is her favorite. Just ask each one, and they’ll tell you they’re THE favorite.

Mom has had quite the quorum of visitors since she’s taken up residence at MCR. The Delta clan and Delta friends, her sister– Rosalie, Rosalie’s daughter– Natalie, Ron and Marie, Betty and Kent, Travis and Collette, Judie Curtis, Julie Damron, and plenty more. I’ve visited her a few times myself. She’s been living there only about a month and has received a trail of guests already. She is not lonely. And if nobody from outside MCR ever went to visit Mom, she’d still not be lonely. Most of the other residents are her longtime friends. And the staff dotes on her. So many of them have grown up knowing her, and eating her various treat creations.

Man, is she happy there! We hoped she would be. We knew she would be if she decided to be. But the transition itself was tough for her– until she actually got there. Truth be told, it was probably harder on us kids. Hell, I say “kids” despite the fact that we’re a hop, ski, and a jump from being old enough to move in there with her. I’m the baby of the family and I’m fifty-damn-four. I’ve always known I’m a big baby.

Almost everybody thinks their mom is the Best. Mom. Ever. Likewise, I feel the same about Mom. As an adult, I once had a friend– who had met Mom only once– say to me, “I wish my mom loved me as much as your mom loves you.” I’ve had other friends who’ve met her only briefly say similar things. Mom’s love shows. I was born lucky, and I know it. Mom is just plain cool.

BTW  Check out Mom’s hair. It’s all did for the week. And yes, she still tells everyone she needs a permanent. She will start saying the same thing a week after she gets her next one.

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Mom And I Are A Handful

Mom enjoyed the snowmen on Tie o’ the Day (see this morning’s post photo). She occasionally had to reach over and feel Tie’s silkiness. And the cape Suzanne made me (see this morning’s post photo)? Mom could not get enough of it. She couldn’t model the cape around the facility though, because it was way too large for her. It would have trailed behind her like a lengthy wedding dress train. And then she would have tripped on it and fallen and broken her other hip. I’m not a big gal, but Mom is gradually shrinking out of even small-size clothing. My cape was a hit with her anyway.

I sat with Mom in the MCR salon while she got her nails painted a sparkly, shimmery pink. She says she thinks it’s the first time she’s ever worn nail polish. Mom said she wanted her nails done so she can catch men. I’m tellin’ ya– if Mom were seriously on the market, she’d be snatched off the market pretty darn quickly. But she is adamant that she is not now– nor will she ever be– on the market. If the guy ain’t Dad, she’s got no interest in the dating game whatsoever.

Mom and I had a swell visit, and we had our usual loud barrel o’ laughs. I admit we are rambunctious when we get together. Today was no exception, as evidenced by the fact that we were given the shhhh-keep-it-down look by an old lady resident who can’t even hear. I don’t think the problem for this woman was the decibel level as much as it was jealousy that Mom and I were having a rip-roarin,’ free-wheelin,’ crazy time. Everyone at the center who saw us, except this one person, seemed to have fun watching and listening to me and Mom have a blast. This particular hard-of-hearing person who somehow hears things as excessively loud is a nice enough lady. I do remember she was in my church ward when I was a kid, and I also remember there wasn’t one week when she didn’t give me the shhhh sign in Sacrament Meeting. Oh, well. My bad.

I’ll be a better influence on Mom the next time I visit her. NOT.

BTW  Suzanne was working today, so I drove down to Delta to see Mom by myself. However, before I left the house, Suzanne told me I had to go to Mom’s Crafts while I was in town– for 10 1/2 yards of quilt fabric. She told me to not bother coming home if I didn’t get the fabric. I cannot win. Fabric stores have become my destiny, and I don’t even sew.

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Up Early. Must Beat Rush Hour Traffic.

Tie o’ the Day and Cape o’ the Day are headed out the door with me before dawn, to take one of our lickety-split drives to Delta to see Mom– and we’ll be back this afternoon in time for Judge Judy. Mom and Judge Judy! Two of my all-time fave bad-ass women!

I chose this particular Tie o’ the Day for Mom’s benefit. Mom has a thing for snowmen. Even though I’m not dragging out the daily holiday ties yet, Mom deserves to see this one. Here’s a piece of wisdom for you: There is nothing wrong with trying to make your Mom jolly– ever. If your mom likes snowmen, give her snowmen– no matter what time of year it is.

Cape o’ the Day is the reverse side of the skull/Frida cape I showed off last week. Mom’s gonna get a kick out of this too. She will especially swoon all over it when she finds out Suzanne made it. OMGolly, Suzanne can do no wrong, as far as Mom’s concerned. Suzanne’s general good behavior and craft ability help me get away with my shenanigans. I guess Suzanne’s kind of my redeeming quality, whether or not she’s present with me. Her upstanding essence will be traveling with me today, in the guise of my Suzanne-made cape.

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The Flying Leeches

After brunch yesterday, Bow Tie o’ the Day and I accompanied Suzanne to Home Depot, where she got plant pots the size of wine barrels. Bow Tie and I got distracted by this wasp-killing spray display.

This “can” stood about 7-feet tall, and I realized the can should be labeled Delta-size. And it should be mosquito repellent. A can this size could get you through almost an entire week’s worth of summer evenings outside in Delta. And I do mean “almost.” Realistically, you’d probably need at least a can and 1/3 of this Delta-size repellent to save you from the skeeters for that length of time. I am not using hyperbole about this. 🐜 🙀 (I couldn’t find a mosquito emoji. The ant will have to suffice.😜 )

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A Mad Dash

Tie o’ the Day and I made a lickety-split trip to Delta and back. We spent the day with Mom, who could not quit telling me how much she loved Tie. I picked it out to wear especially for her because Mom has this thing for witches. She always says she’s a witch. In fact, she and Peggy Crane each claimed to be the witchin’-est witch of them all. They tried mightily to out-witch each other. Mom claims to be a witch because Dad used to ask her every Halloween if her broom was sharpened for the holiday.

I drove down to D-ville for the sole purpose of checking on Mom. Already. She’s been in the Care Center less than a week, but I had to see for myself how she’s adjusting. OMGolly! She’s a popular old broad– with family, friends, and staff.

And this photograph is evidence that she’s got a healthy appetite. She was eating so intently that she couldn’t turn around for a photo with me. And that would have been an exceptional picture because she had her sunglasses on. She’s sitting with her longtime buddy, LaRae. They always eat together like they did when Mom was in the Care Center last year, recovering from her broken hip.

Mom says she’s content. She says she doesn’t want any of us to think she’s not happy right where she is. I asked her if she was telling the truth about that, or was she just saying she liked it in order to make us all feel better about the situation? She went on for at least five minutes, listing all the things she liked about being there. Of course, she mentioned the Atkinson’s regularly coming to sing– more than once. And she mentioned Sing Along– more than once. Oh, and the food’s good. And she can get her hair done whenever she wants. And she also mentioned she might get her nails done. And then she mentioned Sing Along again.

Speaking of singing, she said she enjoys having so many visitors there fawning over her that she sometimes feels like singing. I told her that wasn’t a good idea– except during Sing Along– if she wants the staff to let her stay. Talk about Halloween and horror!!! Mom and I not only share the same name, we share the same frightening singing voice. It’s ghastly. We are both smitten with music, but music is not smitten with us.

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So That Is How My First Name Got Real

Double-wood Bow Tie o’ the Day says I should explain to my Delta friends how my first name and my middle name seemingly switched at some point in my life. My full, legal name is Helen Eileen Wright, and until I graduated from DHS and left Delta, I went by the name, Eileen. I don’t know why, but that’s what everyone had always called me.

When I had to begin filling out all the paperwork that comes with being an adult– like college applications, job applications, rental applications, my passport application, etc.– it was so complicated to keep using my middle name as my first name, because my Social Security card had my “real” name on it. So I became Helen. I also have been referred to as Helen, Jr., Li’l Hel, H. E., Helen E., and prob other variations I can’t recall right now. I’ve been known as Helen for almost twice as long as I was Eileen, so it’s almost impossible for me to think of me as anything but Helen, although I’m just fine with either name you’re comfortable using for me.

When the switch happened, I found that I liked the name Helen better than Eileen. Nobody ever got the spelling right on Eileen. Helen was more me-ish. And what I liked most about making the change was that there aren’t many women who have their mothers’ names. I do, and I have always looked up to Mom, so her name was something I’ve strived to honor. It’s inspired me to be more like her. Wearing her name has definitely made me a better woman than I would have been otherwise.

What this whole name thing means is that I’ve had a childhood name and an adult name. Depending on what name you use to address me, I know– and everybody else knows– when you first knew me.

When my parents were trying to come up with a name for me, they were stumped. I was almost named Melanie. And then I was almost named Rhonda– so they could have yet another “Ron”  in the family. They settled on the name of one of Mom’s nurses, who was such a key part of Mom recovering from my birth, Eileen Boothe. Mom had nearly died giving birth to me. Dr. Bird had to give her a half-dozen blood transfusions, and he told her, “No more babies, Helen.” (And then Dad had a little operation. 😉)

Anyhoo… Dad was giving me my baby blessing, and when he got to my name, he named me after Mom. She was surprised. They had never talked about doing that. He told Mom she’d had a difficult enough time having me that I should have her name. I’m grateful he did that. I try to honor it, knowing I will forever fall short. But I try.

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Mom Has Slept Around This Year

Tie o’ the Day and I are actually feeling much better than we did yesterday, about our family’s decision to settle Mom in the Care Center. I haven’t been weepy today, and I know that’s not just because Tie is rockin’ it with the black and orange funk– although it is a snazzy look. Nope. We’re feeling more at peace about Mom because, by all reports, she’s feeling a little better about the situation herself.

Yesterday was not fun. Even when you know you’re doing the rightest thing you can do, it’s still tough to watch your mom cry. I can’t speak for anyone else in my family, but I can honestly say that there are moments when I feel like I’ve let Mom down somehow, even though I’ve done everything I can think to do for her, for as long as I’ve been able to do it. We all have. But when your mom’s crying, you damn well wish you could fix what’s wrong.

I know Mom is safe. I know she’ll enjoy herself where she is. That’s how Mom rolls. Her tears are not about where she’s living. She knows she’s blessed to be in a terrific facility, watched over by a compassionate staff. (And as an added bonus: Heck, the Atkinson’s will regularly come right to her new home to serenade her.)

Her tears are about how hard it is to handle the plethora of changes that have come her way the last couple of years. All of her recent life-changes make my own head spin. I can only imagine how those changes are making her 88-year-old head spin and zoom and cart-wheel. I’m sure she’s been feeling like she is no longer in charge of her own life. Unfortunately, that’s mostly  accurate. It is what is has to be.

Think of it. Mom was born in Oak City in 1930. She moved a spittin’ distance away to Delta when she married Dad in 1948. After that, she lived in the same house for 63 years. And then, just over a year ago, she fell and broke her hip while trying to put on her big girl pants. (Yes, that’s really how it happened.) Her life, as she knew it, was altered.

Mom had to leave her own home to live with my bro, Ron, in St. George– where we’ve stayed with her when Ron and Marie had to be away from home. (How horrible for me and Suzanne to have to spend time in St. George. And with Mom!) In the last year, Mom’s had sleepovers in Delta a few times. She’s stayed here with us in Centerville for a week here and there. She’s stayed in Pleasant View with my sister, BT and Kent, for days at a time too. For some reason, Mom thinks her kids are cool, so she’s had a blast every minute of everywhere she’s camped. But at this point, she needs to stop her galavanting. She wants to do all the rest of her sleeping in one town, and that town is her beloved, windy Delta.

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Small Place, Bigly Love

VW Bow Tie o’ Yesterday drove with us as we hauled Mom and her memories from back to Delta from St. George. Mom never turned away from her window during the entire drive. She loves the landscapes of Utah, and she had to point out every beautiful natural thing she saw– including a few deer. She told us stories about who she was with and what they did when she had visited some of those locales in her younger life.

Years ago, one of Mom’s sisters who lives “up North,” asked her how she could stand to live out in the middle of nowhere, where the wind blew all the time. Mom said something along the lines of “It’s beautiful. Why would you not want to live here? I’d never live anywhere else. And you have all that traffic up North. Why would you want to live up there?” Mom finds joy in every Delta dusty wind that messes up her just-done hair.

For those of you who don’t know anything about the Care Center in Delta, let me give you some insight about Delta that will help you understand why it’s the perfect place for Mom to live.

When I lived in Virginia and Maryland, when my “back East” friends would ask about where I grew up, I came up with the perfect way to describe how small Delta is. I told them that Delta is so small that when you’re born, you’re automatically related to half the population– and then when you get married, you’re suddenly related to the other half.

What does this description have to do with the Delta Care Center? Aside from the fact that the facility– and the care the staff provides– is outstanding, everybody knows everybody. It’s like home in that way. Mom already knows 99 percent of the residents of the Care Center, and they know her. They have been part of her life for all of her life. Likewise, Mom also knows the people who will be caring for her. They love her and Mom loves them. Trust me, she will be spoiled during her stay.

At the Care Center, every day is almost like a family reunion. In fact, when we walked Mom into the facility yesterday, she didn’t even get to her room for over an hour. Half-way to see her room for the first time, she saw someone she just had to catch-up with about all the Delta gossip. Mom immediately sat down by her. Soon someone put a plate of food in front of Mom, which she immediately ate– to give her energy to keep talking to her life-long friends, I’m sure.