A woman to be emulated

My ex mother-in-law recently sent me a card congratulating me on my new job. I found it difficult to accept the accolades as the job is so menial. But I did send her the following email thanking her for her thoughts:

Thanks so much for the card. Although, I am not sure that this job really warrants a congratulations. I am sure David has told you the "plan"...(ahhh, what I have learned about plans). I will be taking the CNA schooling then testing soon, then on to the LPN program. I have to take some prerequisite courses first ( I am terrified of the Math!).

I am in a sort of rebuilding, scary to do at 40 years old but what the hell, there is something exciting about a second career.

Thanks again for being so considerate!

She responded to my email with the following:


HI LORI - -

THANK YOU FOR YOUR RECENT E-MAIL. IF YOU HAVE NO OBJECTIONS, I WILL KEEP YOUR "ADDRESS" IN MY FILE IN CASE I NEED TO GET IN TOUCH AGAIN.

LORI, YOU ARE AT A PERFECT AGE FOR A CHANGE IN YOUR CAREER ! YOU ARE YOUNG ENOUGH TO GRASP THE NEW CHALLENGE AND AT AN AGE WHEN PAST EXPERIENCES WILL BE OF VALUE TO YOU.

MR. DAVE WAS ALWAYS SO SUPPORTIVE OF THE ADULT STUDENTS RETURNING TO SCHOOL. HE FELT THEY WERE MORE MATURE IN DEALING WITH THEIR STUDIES, HAD A PLAN, AND WERE NOT AFRAID TO ASK FOR HELP IF NEEDED. IN FACT, OUR FAMILY SET UP A SCHOLARSHIP AT KIRKWOOD IN HIS MEMORY SPECIFICALLY DIRECTED TO THE ADULT STUDENT RETURNING TO SCHOOL.

FROM WHAT I AM READING, IT APPEARS YOU COULD NOT HAVE CHOSEN A BETTER FIELD TO GO INTO. THE MEDICAL FIELD HOLDS GREAT PROMISE FOR EMPLOYMENT AND FOR FUTURE ADVANCEMENT AND JOB SECURITY. FROM HERE IT LOOKS LIKE A WIN-WIN DECISION ON YOUR PART.

YOU HAVE A GOOD MIND WHICH WILL GREATLY HELP YOU TO ACCOMPLISH YOUR GOALS. I ALSO FEEL YOU WOULD BE A GOOD ROLE MODEL FOR YOUR DAUGHTER IN HOPES THAT SHE WILL TAKE HER STUDIES MORE SERIOUSLY.

HAVE PATIENCE WITH YOURSELF, LORI. GOOD LUCK AS YOU START ON THIS NEW PHASE AND CAREER CHANGE !

The "Mr. Dave" that she refers to his her late husband, that I greatly admired. He was Dean of a large community college. Knowing that he supported adult students and that the family felt strongly enough to establish a scholarship program, in his name, for adult students means a lot to me.

I have always had a great respect for the family. With all the respect I had for the father of the family, it really is the matriarch that has always conveyed a positive message. She has proven to be a strong inspiration to her family, and those that used to be family....

She is a woman to be emulated.

The Human Experience

Something occurred to me. Mind you this is no big revelation, just something I haven't thought of recently. The thought was; my circumstances are not unique to the human experience. I am not the first person to feel despair and loss, to feel lost. It feels less lonely when you know others have felt it before you, with you and will after you as well. It isn't just the despair though, it's all of it. All of the emotions, I refer to them as the "peaks and valleys of Lori". I have had some incredibly wonderful experiences that most people cannot imagine.

None of the experiences last, good or bad (we have covered this ). But what does last is the memories. Therefore only one thing holds true...

No matter your position in life, if you are lucky you will be old. The only thing you will have left is your memories of your human experience.

I can say this for my human experience thus far, it hasn't been dull or boring.

Just like Mardi Gras

My coworkers all insisted on dressing up for Mardi Gras today. They brought in beads and hats and masks, unfortunately they brought them for me as well. I felt like an idiot dressed in that silly garb. Had I been in New Orleans, or even anywhere in Lousiana it would have been ok I guess. But in Omaha, NE? It just felt stupid, looked stupid and was hot and uncomfortable. To top it off, they wanted to record the event by taking pictures. There we all stood with our colorful hats, masks and beads, smiling like idiots while the poor elderly residents looked absolutely frightened.

I have been to Mardi Gras, it does not resemble the nursing home where I work, except for...people are drunk and high at Mardi Gras; ok we have plenty of people on drugs at the nursing home. In New Orleans people pee openly in the streets and alleys; at the nursing home they pee anywhere they want. In New Orleans for Mardi Gras people yell and cackle; ok same at the nursing home. In New Orleans women display their bodies for beads; at the nursing home they do it for nothing.

I should have had a better attitude about wearing the garb...it was just like Mardi Gras!

I Have Ice Cream, NANA NANA BOO BOO

It just never gets old, so to speak. I am referring to the residents at the nursing home. Enter a new character, Margaret the Exhibitionist!

Margaret is about 80 years old, in a wheel chair but is ambulatory on her own. Sunday, I saw a new side of Margaret, her wild side. She was in her wheel chair watching television. There was a gentleman on her right, also watching television and quite intently I might add.

Margaret had her dress pulled up around her chest area and allowed her naked legs to flail around in the air as if she were bicycling. It wasn't just Margaret's legs that were naked. Margaret is a free spirit and was displaying her lady parts as well.

So there is Margaret, flailing her legs and showing her lady parts. I was really not shocked at that. I was shocked that the gentleman sitting next to her, never gave a look. He just kept watching Matlock.

He never moved his chair, he never said a word, just kept watching Matlock.

When Margaret tired of her "exercise" she politely asked for ice cream and water. I gave Margaret what she asked for and began to walk away.

Oopsies, now the gentelman realizes Margaret is there, but most importantly he realizes she has ice cream and he does not. This causes him to turn away from Matlock and in a not-so-nice tone requests that he also be given ice cream.

I'm sure there is a moral to this story, but I don't care. I hope someone notices more than my ice cream as I age.

The Residents

In the nursing home where I work, there are several types of residents. There are those that are just old and have no one else to take care of them, there are those that are not so old but have very limited intelligence and there are those that are both.

I would like to "introduce" you to a few of the residents:

First there is Mary. Mary is about 45 years old, confined to a wheel chair with limited intelligence. She wears a straw cowboy hat and neighs like a horse most of the time. My first meeting with Mary, she asked me if I was feeble minded, I told her I didn't think so (honestly, it depends on the day). She wanted to play an electronic game of 20 questions. She had to think of an object, animal, person or other. I will give you one guess what Mary was thinking about (if you didn't guess it was a horse). The electronic game guessed that Mary was thinking of a pony. Mary insisted this was incorrect then informed me it was a white, black and red horse. When I questioned Mary about the red coloring, she looked quite shocked that I did not know. "It has a red asshole", Mary said. Ahhh, it does make sense now doesn't it?

Next there is Stephen. Stephen is about 60 years old, confined to a wheel chair with limited intelligence as well. On my second day at the home I said "Hey, how are you?"to Stephen. Now everyday when he sees me at breakfast and lunch he repeats in a very loud voice "HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY". He continues to repeat it until food is in his mouth. I am not kidding, he loves the word and will say only that word for 30 minutes or more. You can imagine how popular I am with the rest of the staff for introducing Stephen to the word. As my punishment, the other staff members have also started saying HEY to me a LOT.

Then there is Irene. Irene is about 85 years old. It is obvious that Irene was a super good looking woman in her younger years, and she is still quite the flirt. Irene has been one of my favorites from day one. She likes to talk about her ex and late husbands and boyfriends that she once had. Today, was kinda sad. She did not know who I was today. She carried a baby doll with her all day. She fed it, held it, loved it and let all of the other residents admire her baby. When I spoke to one of the nurses about Irene, she informed me that Irene has lived at the home for 6 years and very rarely has a visitor. The nurse told me that for months when Irene first arrived she would not come out of her room voluntarily and it caused her great stress when she was forced to join the common areas. A member of the nursing staff gave her the doll to give her something to love and ever since she spends most days in the common area.

I hope Irene remembers me tomorrow. I want her to know that I am there for her.

My Part Time Job

I am so friggin tired (I'm so tired I can't even use an exclamation point here). I am the kind of tired that brings tears to your eyes. I know you probably think I am exaggerating, I'm not. I have worked the past two days from 6 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. During that time, I only sit down for about 30 minutes. To some of you this may sound like no big deal, but to the others that hold office jobs (like I did the past 17 years) I'll bet you are starting to cringe a bit.

Imagine how grateful you are to sit on a roller coaster after 3 hours of standing in a line. It feels good just to sit doesn't it? But there is a bonus to that kind of standing, something fun awaits. Nothing fun awaits me at the end of the day, not to mention that 3 hours is only a third of my day.

I know I will evenutally get used to this standing and walking, bending and lifting etc (I hope it happens soon). But until I get used to it, my feet and back are in some serious pain. The back I can take tylenol for, the feet...no amount of tylenol helps. They throb, literally, throb. The moment I get into my house the shoes come off and I commence rubbing them, with the knuckles of a fist. It feels so good to rub them I make audible sounds. But this does not relieve the pressure that has built up over a 9 hour day. So I elevate them, takes some pressure off, but not enough. Then I sleep, wake up, shower and do it again.

But there is good news. It's a part time job, I only work 45 hours next week!

I'm in line

Tomorrow is my first day of work at the retirement community. I have to be there at 6:00 a.m. As I have been pseudo retired for almost a year, this is gonna hurt!

I am a little nervous but excited that I am actually starting on that second career. Not that you could call this first job my goal or dream job, far from it. But it's a start. Just like going to the admissions counselor for school was a start.

I have to keep reminding myself that all things must begin somewhere. I am equating this journey of becoming a nurse to waiting in a long line. When you first see the line, you wonder if getting in that line is really worth it or if you should just come back later. I'm too old to come back later to the line. So I have to get in the line now. While in the line, it is usually frustrating because the line moves slowly. There are people with screaming babies, people talking too loudly on their cell phones, and on occasion a couple feels the need to argue in line. Sometimes you need to go to the bathroom, but you don't dare ask anyone to save your spot. So you stand in the line needing to pee. Standing in line is uncomfortable and irritating.

But then, it's your turn. Then you leave and a friend calls to ask what you are doing. You tell them what you have accomplished, you survived the line.

Well, I'm in line now. I hope this is the kind that surprises you and moves really quickly and painlessly!

Manipulate and Marinate

I love to cook. Without sounding conceited, I happen to be a really good cook. What I like most about cooking is a persons response. I get a real thrill out of making people happy via the tummy and taste buds. But, I wasn't always a good cook.

My children still remind me that once upon a time if their dinner did not come out of a box (hamburger helper) or from the drive thru they were astonished. I also had a cook at one time. That's right, a cook. She would come once a week, prepare a weeks worth of meals, put them in the freezer with reheating instructions.

So why did I start cooking? A friend of mine, who happens to be a very good cook as well, explained to me that cooking was all about control. That was all it took! My personality loves control. I can make food do whatever I want it to.

I know this is probably a little far fetched, but I am gonna start approaching other areas of my life the way I do with cooking. I am gonna take control.

Yep, just like cooking this will take time and patience and a clear goal of what my desired result is.

I'm gonna manipulate and marinate until I have perfected the recipe for life. I have a good start, I already know what not to do.

Beware! I have a camera!

This is an official warning...I now have a digital camera. I don't have a photo in mind for this post, but I can't imagine there will be many without a photo from here on, again it's a warning. I know me. I am going to really and truly believe that I am a photographer now. I am sure that I will submit photos to some contest and then be in utter disbelief that my photo is not the one chosen for the cover of "Time" magazine.

I'm like that, I think I can be the best at absolutely everything. Somedays this is a good trait and somedays a really bad trait. For instance, I once thought I could be the best baker. I have two ex coworkers with caps on their teeth from "the best chocolate chip cookies in the world".

I thought I would be best the seamstress, my kids are careful to lie on the pillows I made for Christmas one year, fearful of being stuck with a couple of straight pins I left inside the pillows.

I also thought I would be the best plumber in the world, I flooded an entire home.

I thought I was going to be the best abstract artist in the world. It turns out Jackson Pollock really was talented. You can't just throw Benjamin Moore paint on a canvas and get millions of dollars.

At any rate, I fully anticipate being the best photographer in the world...look out Annie Leibovitz!

As a footnote, think twice about having me take your wedding photos. I have a questionable history.

Winter Weather

I can't quite get off the snow today...Here are more pics for all my southern friends. There is a picture of the pool and the deck surrounding it (yes, there is a pool underneath all that snow!) The rest are pics of the backyard in general. Just a beautiful day! Notice the table by the pool, gives you an idea of the snow so far, won't stop snowing until 7 or 8 pm tonite...just gorgeous! I am just loving this day. But never fear, I will be jealous of your 70 degree weather by this time next week...

Quiet Snow

It's a snow day. The snow is falling in a silent powdery fashion, quickly blanketing the trees and hills. It's grey outside, no wind, just the snow.

School is closed so the kids are home. It is calm in the house, even the dogs are quiet. I am having my coffee watching the snow, it's falling faster now, it's thick and the flakes are large. Today I will make potato soup. The soup will simmer on the stove for a large part of the day. The aroma of the soup will fill the house.

It is just this sort of day that makes me think twice about moving south again. I would miss these days. There is something about the ease in which midwesterners enjoy the snowfall.

There are so many different types of snow days, each is enjoyed in it's own way. This particular snowfall is the lazy, comforting kind. This is not the kind of snow where you frolic and giggle outside. It's the kind where everyone walks softly, speaks in low tones, surrounds themselves with a fleece blanket and watches daytime programming that they ordinarily would not be able to watch because of school or work.

Growing up in the south if we had had a snow day it would have been such an occasion that the quietness would have been replaced with frantic hustle and bustle to play outside before the snow could melt.

I am gonna get my warm slippers on and get that soup ready for the stove. This southerner knows how to enjoy a snow day.

Avogadro's...What?

For those of you that don't know, I have been wanting to enter the field of senior care as a second career. I took a big leap in that direction Thursday. I went to my local community college to gather information about enrolling for the RN program. It was a little daunting, I'll explain.

Before going to see the admissions counselor I did a lot of research on nursing. Takes a little over a year to become an LPN (Licensed Practical Nurse). It takes just under 3 years to become an RN (Registered Nurse). I looked into the financial aspects, the demand for nurses and the many ways the degree can be applied.

I have been so excited that I have a clear direction that I forgot about a little something called...math. The admissions counselor gave me two student guides for taking the entrance assessment exam. The first guide is on reading, writing and math skills. I consider myself above average intelligence (the first person to send me something regarding my grammar or punctuation dies!). Math has never been what one might call my strong suit, but I have always been able to get by.

Now I know the reason I have always been able to get by...I don't use algebra, geometry or trigonometry on a daily basis! I recall being pretty good at fractions and algebra in school, but that was a very long time ago. Tonight as I tried to answer the questions I found that my brain had completely dumped all of that information to make room for things like, kids and dogs and meatloaf recipes.

It was a humbling experience to ask my teenage children to give me a refresher on some basic fractions and a thing called Avogadro's number (I'm still not really sure what the hell that is so don't ask me to explain it). After they explained and wrote down a few reference notes for me, I took my first practice exam online. Out of 24 questions, I missed 11.(to be fair to me, I did very well on Humanities, Reading and the Essay portion of the test) I have my work cut out for me in the math department.

One might think I would be discouraged by the failing grade...nope, I'm not. It was only my first attempt, after some studying I fully expect to get 19 questions right the next time I take it. Because I plan to cheat! No, not really. I expect to get a passing grade because I found that I liked it! It turns out that my kids are very patient teachers, although they did laugh at me a few times. It was actually fun to put areas of my brain into use that have been on hiatus for...(40-16=24...yeah, that's it 24 years).

I am really excited about school. I have a few hurdles in front of me, hopefully I will have financing in place for the summer program. In the meantime, I can get my CNA (certified nursing assistant).

And now begins the first step in the second career...

My Computer and Creativity Crashed

My laptop crashed. I have been without it for about a week. Without the laptop I was forced to use pen and paper to write down all of my ideas for posts. I am not writing about any of those things today.The ideas I had are on the same page as the grocery list. When you write down what you think is a brilliant idea and notice that it is next to tampons and lunch meat, it loses some of it's appeal.

There is something about using the keyboard that works with my personality. I'm pretty sure I should have used a pencil and not a pen, the ability to erase is crucial. Besides all caps on paper doesn't feel the same (yes, the same is true for italics).

I NEED TO GET BACK IN THE SWING OF THINGS. Ahhhhh, that felt good.

Who gives a shit about broccoli?

The family dinner, at my house it goes something like this. Is it ready yet? When are we eating? What am I having?

That part about what am I having...there is a story behind this. I have never really been one of those mothers that makes you eat what is served for dinner (I tried it once after someone told me I was spoiling my kids, never tried it again). There have been many times when I have made three separate complete meals. One for the grownups, one for David and for Courtney. These days, David will eat the meat and bread portion but not the sides, so I make him mac and cheese for his side dish. Courtney has developed a grown up palate.

Now back to why I don't force my kids to eat whatever is served...I had this sister that was really picky as a child. She only wanted to eat peanut butter sandwiches. My parents would make her sit for hours at the table, I remember once it was midnight in front of a plate of spaghetti...she went to sleep in the spaghetti, literally in the spaghetti. But that is not the reason.

The reason is, the time my parents bought bar-b-que sandwiches for the family (this was eating out, it was a big deal). My sister was given her sandwich, you could see the disgust on her face. She pretended she was eating it (afraid she would get a spanking if she didn't). She went outside with it, her mistake was, she came back too soon. My parents went outside and found the sandwich in the bushes. They forced her to eat it with dirt, sticks and leaves on it. There was a lot of gagging and tears from her. And a lot of yelling and cursing from the parents.

I never understood that. They could have made her a peanut butter sandwich, saved themselves $5 and made the treat of bar-b-que sandwiches a pleasant experience for everyone else.

I don't want a bunch of comments of how I am limiting my children, I make them taste new things and make sure they get their ruffage as I refer to it (greenery).

I just don't understand making unpleasant memories at dinner time. Who really gives a shit if the kids eat broccoli? Give them green beans and get over it.

The Weeds

Depressing thoughts are like weeds, they crop up everywhere and can thrive in any situation. I try to keep positive thoughts nearby to counter act the bad ones. For instance, I know you have heard the phrase, "All good things must come to an end". Everytime I see or hear that phrase I remind myself that all bad things must also come to an end.

Anytime I think or hear the adage, "Everything happens for a reason" it is usually being applied to something bad. It's rare that you would say "everything happens for a reason" if you win the lottery, you say yippee! But if you lost the winning lottery ticket, all of the sudden, you lost it for some reason that must be noble, there is a higher purpose for someone else winning and not you. I'm gonna have to call bullshit here (eloquent phrasing escapes me).

My point being that we all have ways of soothing our ills. Whether it is with the thought that everything happens for a reason or we keep some other handy phrase in our head to act as salve to life's disappointments.

There is a point where even the most positive of thinkers succumbs to the negative. This is our true test. It is as if we are looking into an abyss(look up this word). There is no end to despair, the weeds have sprouted in our positive thinking.

This morning at 3:00 a.m. I woke from a deep sleep because of the weeds. I need some weed killer and a lot of salve.