Simply this...

Tomorrow I fly off to entomb my mother. (Those of you who are faint of heart stop reading now lest I offend you).  She did not want a service of any kind, which really sort of bothers me.  I mean, it’s not like you’re really dead if you don’t have a priest or a rabbi or someone do a send off.

And I am trying to figure out if I should see her before she gets slid into the wall or not.  Technically I am suppose to id the body.  But I have her license and I suppose they could take it from there.  But I have got to tell you this whole thing give me the creeps.

I’ll probably take a look at Mom before she gets sealed away forever- but what is with being embalmed anyway?  I mean really think about it.  You’ll have all your body fluids drained and replaced with chemicals (which probably killed you in the first place!) and then what?  Why do we do this?  I mean – who are you going to see after the casket is closed? Is there some reason for trying to look good in the after life? Does it get you a better place in heaven? And judging what I see on TV (like THAT’s true!) it doesn’t seem to help much.

Think about it.  Years from now aliens will land at Palm Beach Memorial Gardens and stumble across all these people in drawers! Do you suppose they'll think everyone just had drawers for room like those hotels in Japan and maybe this is just a big condo unit?  And when you really think about it, those drawers have a lot more room than your average airplane seat, which FYI is marginally more room than was given the slaves in the ships coming from Africa. Why I know this I have no idea, but I feel at one with Kunta Kinte when ever I fly. You’d think they’d make a little squeeze for the dead folk – it’s not like they’re going to complain.

Cremation is what I’d like.  Well, actually – I should donate my body to science, but it would probably scare the hell out of the medical students not to mention it is against my religion.  We’re big on returning your body to God in much the same condition he gave it to you. (Wrinkles don’t count).  Some of us have a little graffiti on us… which we shouldn’t… but that’s ok.  It is still an ashes to ashes, dust to dust deal. Which is why I don’t understand the cremation part.

We (meaning those of my religious persuasion) are dressed in a simple white cotton gown and placed in a wooden coffin.  It can be a fancy wooden coffin – but it has to disintegrate. No moisture shields, no cement liners. You, cotton and the wood.  Oh, they also provide you with people who watch over you during the night –I dunno why – but they do.  So, we’re big on the ashes to ashes part.  So why not help it along some with the big oven?  I don’t remember that part in the bible… but I am sure some one can show me some reference to NOT do it.  But it seems a waste all that land, all those buildings.  And so few remembered.

People don’t have to be remembered by a plot or a head stone.  While it can be comforting to the living – the real value is to teach your kids a living history of your family and continue it to your grandchildren.  That’s a legacy that will endure.  With my mother’s death, my children now have no grandparents. Bob’s parents were both dead before we go married… but my kids KNOW them.  Andy could virtually shop Bloomingdale’s with her Grandma Renée and Jessie could chat about the hotel with her Grandpa Joe, because we have told them so much about them.  Lots better than a batch of chemicals… like God’s not going to let you in if you don’t look good?

Sunday's Bounce

Don't know if you have been reading me long enoughto know that when we "moved" here we each got a splurge... mine was plants for the 2 x 6 ish plot in the patio.  So that's the back story.

I think I have killed my zinnias, would that be zinniacide?  Or maybe they just committed suicide becase it is so damned hot here.  Not that I'm complaining - it may be 105 degrees here but the humidity is a low  oh 75% or less, so I am not sweating like a bovine but have moved to the swine family.  But the zinnias are not well.  I cut off everything I could and planted some snapdragons around them  - hoping they would look like they belong there... would that be considered covering up a crime scene??  It's ok, but I am now worried I should have said some words in passing for the zinnias.

At any rate, I was out in the "garden" today... really regretting that I hadn't taken a photo of it before it all became dead twigs with dead flower tops. I wanted to post it but between the heat and the dog pee - well, I won't live long enough to see it make a come back.

I added a couple more jasmine vines - like planting new ones will make the place suddenly tropical and inviting.  I'm worried about my poor gardenia bush though.  What was once a thriving gorgeous specimen is now like 8 branches with a couple of leaves.  I am thinking it is because I couldn't get deep enough in the bed with the trowel so I have now mounded dirt around the exposed part... and mulched yet again.  Where is my Mom when I need to ask her.  Twit!!!  Dad was the one with the green thumb!!! Mom just told you where to weed!!!

So other than listening to the voices in my head, I think about the gardenia bush.  I had planted all this stuff so the dogs would have something to lift their legs on - so why am I surprised that it has all been peed to death???  At just that moment Able comes and pees right into the center of the bush...I mean the sucker straddles it and just floods it!

And it hits me.  A pee shield!! What a fabulous idea.  I can see my fortune being made here now!  Like an invisibility cloak for plants... hmmm I am liking this a lot..so I go into the kitchen and get my glad wrap stuff for the freezer... you know the one that you can press the sides together and make them stick??? I am so on a roll here...

Voila- I now have a shower cap for the bush. I figure a couple of things can happen...

1.  being with this hothouse effect that the gardenia bush will now grow to gargantuan size or

2.  mildew and rot away...

3. I have discovered another amazing brainstorm that could be a subsidiary of the rain cap company.  Sell various dog pees so you can "plant" them where you want your dog to pee.  Cut your dog walking time in half!  Or mix it up in your yard so the dog will have new intrest in going out and not peeing on your white carpet!

Now I have never gone through the neighborhood and peed, publically or privately, but I suspect that if I needed a smell to make me go - well honey - I would have them all!!! Doesn't that make sense to you??? Well... I don't care what you think, it makes sense to me!

And where am I going with this??? Doesn't matter where you're planted, or who pees on you - if you want to - you can flourish!  (didn't think I could bring this all together did you! LOL)

Night y'all!

I couldn't do it... I just couldn't watch TV yesterday.  This Rita thing has just got me a tad frazzled.< imagine me putting my wrist to my forehead...>

What is up with this already??? Ya know - I have always felt that I had a charmed life and all these years I have been waiting for the "other shoe" to drop - you know... payment for this life?  DIDN"T KNOW THE SHOE WAS GOING TO BE A FREAKING HIP WAITER!!!!!

This thing with my mom... well... I love my brother but he is a moron.  Apparently they can't ship dead bodies from Lubbock (I can tell you right now this post is going to offend a lot of people- can't help it- it is just how I deal with death!).  So they have to hire a hearst to drive her down here.  Well... Mom always did love going places in a limosine, but usually she wasn't crated.

Yeah, crated.  They won't give her her  a "home" until she gets to Florida.  There was a brief moment of stupidity on my part (and I have had more than my share these days) where I actually thought about driving up there and picking her up in my Suburban.  Sort of a new twist on Weekend with Bernie.  Or worse - Thelma and Louise.  My mom and I never had much fun together when she could speak, so I was sort of hoping we could have one of those bonding moments before she slid into the wall next to my Dad.  Guess not... can't get on her flight.

And there's another thing.  Calling funeral homes and being um, moribly correct??? ... Uh, I understand my mother is under your care...Under your care????  The woman is dead for God's sakes.... although I will admit I can't think of any other way to address it.  Hi, I understand my Mom is staying at your facility until she can catch her flight?  Hi, I hear my mom is chilling with the home boys until next week.  Hi, I'm Peg Bauchat's daughter and I understand she' there for a beauty make over???  Nope... can't see it. 

And tying to dance around the fact they are shipping my mother in a freaking crate... I'd like to discuss my mother's travel arrangements.  The woman is NOT flying First Class - she is in a wooden crate!!! Could you please tell me when you will be meeting her flight... The guy tells me - well we arrive at CARGO an hour after the flight arrives.  Great, now I have visions of my mother on the tarmack wondering why it is taking the cabana boy so long to arrive with her Pina Colada.

Nope, I really don't do death well.  My mother got mad at me because when my Dad died, my kids and I were all sitting in the front row looking at him all laid out... but his hands were funny.  They were crossed, like they should have been clasped at the bottom of his chest- but the hands didn't really touch each other.  I made a passing comment about Dad looking like he belonged in DisneyWorld in the Hall of Presidents... my kids burst out laughing - which was just fine by me... but my mom thought it was disrespectful.  <psssstttt.... Dad would have loved it!>

Death is a funny kind of thing... ok not if it is happening to you, but it IS going to get you one day.  And that is how I feel about it.  A natural conclusion to a person's life.  I am more inclinded to celebrate the life of the deceased than to wear black and look miserable.  And, I do have this unfortunate habit of breaking into hysterical laughter...

A couple of years ago we had a marathon of deaths.  In the 40 days of Lent we had something like 45 people we knew died.  My kids at ages 14 and 15/16 had entire funeral waredrobes.  It gave us a lot of chances to talk to them about death.  You should do that you know, talk to your loved ones about what you want and how you want to go.  And you should talk to your kids about it so that it isn't some big lie or mystery.  It just is.  And it happens, every day.

Me?  I'd like to be creamated and thrown from my Iris float... but I can't.  Jews can't be creamated and I am pretty sure that ashes are not an approved throw.  But I do want to have the biggest damned party in town.  I want every one to go have a drink in all of my favorite restaurants.  I want them to wear red, tell jokes and throw their heads back in laughter.  I want them to celebrate that they are alive and so was I.

So today, tomorrow and every other day you have, Live it.  Do at least one thing a day just for you... even if it is just a phone call to a friend.  And that is really the most important thing you'll do all day.

Adios me amigos!

Don't You Just Hate it...

Don't you hate it when things happen late at night and you have no
one to talk to about them?

Tonight I was going to start introducing my family on my Blog,
starting with Jessie.  I had this great "lay out" in my mind,
complete with a couple of photos.  Then Rita became a big threat,
the moment she became a CAT 4 I got a blinding headache, the likes
of which I haven't had in over ten years.  Being on the East side of
a hurricane is more dangerous, stronger winds and more severe rain
bands,(like I'm telling you something you don't know).  So there my
poor house sits, in my home of New Orleans, about to get pounded
again.  But that is something for the insurance companies to fight
over - and I really had decided not to write any more hurricane
stuff.

But then I got an e-mail.  AN E-MAIL! from my sister in law that my
mother just passed away at 10:25 tonight.  What's a woman gotta do
to catch a break here?  My mom was an ornary old biddy and age did
not improve her.  No one thought she would ever out live my Dad, but
she did.  I sure hope Dad had fun today in heaven 'cause it is the
last Peace he's going to have for a while!  It is strange now.  My
oldest brother and I are the only ones left. 

There were 4 of us.  Three boys and me.  Jimmy, David and Jeff. 
Jimmy is 66 - I'm 53.  Jeff - who was 7 years older than I, passed
away from a bizarre case of cancer when he was 42ish.  We think it
was from exposure to Agent Orange in the 70s.  He was a test subject
for the Army back then at Natick Labs in MA. Who would think it
would be more dangerous than being in Viet Nam??  David died on my
birthday just about 2 months past his 60th birthday. 2002, I think-
it was Jakie's first Chanukah too. Jim, my only remaining brother
has been a heavy smoker (and has been all his life) and has
emphysema.  I am told he has about 2 years.  That will make me one
lonely little girl, who's a little nervous about her health!

But then, this isn't about me - it should be about my mom.  She
wasn't a great mom.  She did what she could to the best of her
abilities, but basically, she wasn't good at mothering.  She ADORED
my father and he adored her and that is what was important I guess. 
That and the fact that we had a less than mediocre relationship,
made me the mother I am today.  I became the mother I never had.  My
kids and I are very open and talk about most everything (somethings
more than I would care to! lol) and I would like to think we are a
close family, so, she really left a great legacy behind in her
grandchildren, my children. 

Peg was a real pip.  I don't think she ever had a thought that was
edited by her brain.  And of course this was unhampered by the
touchy feely stuff we have going on today.  It took me years of
therapy to be able to accept her for herself and laugh at what we
would refer to as "Peg-isms".  But she was my Mom and I loved her. 
PIA that she was, I am a lot like her.  Don't ask me my opinion if
you can't take hearing the truth! (Good God Renée - that is a
horrible outfit/haircut/fill in the blank here) and actually, I have
passed this little trait on to my kids too, only with the edges
softened and we laugh a lot more when we do it.

Some how in the next few days I have to figure out how to get from
Dallas to Palm Beach where Mom will be entombed next to Dad.  She is
in Lubbock at the moment.  There will be no memorial service(s),
most of her friends are dead any way, just me making sure she gets
to where she is going. So I guess this will sort of be her eulogy. 

My Mom was short, brunette and could be very funny.  In 1944 she
worked at Sears in Canton,Ohio where she saw my Dad, who was a
manager there.  She found out that they took the same bus and tried
pick him up one day - Didn't work.  She did arrange a double date
with him and the rest was history... they were married,
excommunicated from the Catholic Church (mom was a *gasp* divorcée)
and lived fairly happily ever after.

Mom was a great cook.  Ok, she was great until she decided to try
recipes from the New York Times. Even Dad rolled his eyes at some
stuff and he would eat anything. The worst was the TOFU Turkey
Dressing for Thanksgiving.  She was honest, short tempered and a
snappy dresser.  My parents use to co-ordinate their outfits.  They
were the envy of their friends. (and no, they would not dress ALIKE -
I said CO-ordinate!)

She loved animals and we almost always had dogs.  To this day I
can't eat liver because she would make a liver stew for our pets.
She was good hearted and a good friend.  Peg was determined, hard
working and fun loving.  Nothing like a great game of bridge or dice
or poker for that matter to bring out the competetive side of hers.
And while it may not have been her strong suit, she was my mom.  And
I love her.

Night Mom, rest well and safe journey. Love you.

renée

September 24th

So, this is it.  Random thoughts - no fancy banner, just black and white me.  If you can't stand the heat don't read the posts... there will be no baffle from my brain to my fingers.  If I offend anyone - I'm sorry - but ya can't please every one....