Lists

Where do you begin?

Where does it all end?

What does it all mean?

We stood there the day after

Looking at each other

Them looking at me to lead them

Asking what to do

Where to start

How do I know the answer?

What thought process do I go through to figure it all out

Minds covered in haze

Hearts filled with grief

Thoughts and decisions covered in sorrow

Heart aching with loss

We all dug in with both hands

Sorting and sorting and boxing and dumping and keeping and tossing and loading and donating and discussing.

Rule number one — tell me what item is important to you and put your name on it

Rule number two — make a box to fill

Questions arise

Pictures? — we will pile all the boxes of pictures to distribute later. We will have a ceremony after the burial where we go through them together. This morphs as hours go by

Documents? Shred? Burn? There are so many. Then so many more. Medical papers. Receipts. Piles and piles.

Another plan is made. We will have a bonfire. Burn all the documents and as we sit around the fire we will sort the photos. Each person will have a beautiful box to fill with theirs. This will allow us to reminisce and remember.

Greeting cards? There are hundreds. Letters. Notes. Notebooks. At least a hundred little spiral notebooks and notepads. Address labels? We are talking a thousand. Piles and piles. And piles.

The notepads are full of lists – bills, groceries, peoples names and addresses and phone numbers. Repetitive. Historical. Facts. Figures. Ideas.

Paper clips? Tools? Batteries. So many batteries. Tassels? That one got us laughing. What the heck?

Phone calls need to be made. There’s nothing like calling government agencies and their 1-800 numbers. Exasperating. Get through. Get on hold. Get disconnected. Redial. Re-enter. Remain sane. Reach one of the kindest people in the world who efficiently cancels the 38 year long pension in about 38 seconds. The VA is highly efficient and friendly as they end that monthly stipend with a “God bless you”. Another thing checked off the list. Meds by mail. Check. Cable. Check. Lawyer. Check. Bank. Check. Phone. Check. Check. Check. The list grows shorter then grows longer. So much to do. So much to think about.

Estate sale. Realtor. Lawyers. Meetings and appointments.

As the list changes everyone else is using the physical energy to load. And box and bag and load some more. Calls are made to donate medical equipment. Four walkers. A wheelchair. Crutches. Shower chair. Toilet raiser- bought just hours before she died. Piles of glucose monitors, blood pressure cuffs and all manner of joint stabilizers and ortho equipment.

Beds and chairs and dishes. Pots and pans and bowls and kitchen gadgets galore. Furniture and furnishings. Toothpaste and shampoo and bars of soap.

Donations to the humane society thrift store. Boxes of clothes. Loads to the dump. A garage filled with estate sale items. Boxes filled with canned and dried food donated to the food bank. Mementos kept and discovered and shared.

Bursts of tears. Bursts of laughter. People stopping by. Nieces. Cousins. Neighbors.

The mind can not comprehend the amount of physical labor, the depth of emotional storm, the ache that’s being covered by action. The knowledge that when the action stops the ache will increase and overwhelm.

Most of my Saturdays were spent with her, sometimes hours on end. Sometimes just a short visit. My calendar is filled with upcoming doctors appointments that will now be cancelled. Our trip to Israel stays on the books but she won’t hear from us about our great adventure. She was going to follow our itinerary daily to understand where we were that day. Nazareth. Galilee. Floating in the Dead Sea. Crying at the tomb of Jesus.

We all have to go through the loss of parents at some point. It’s enormous. As our often dysfunctional family goes through all these worldly goods that sustained her life and lifestyle I pray God’s grace as we patiently and tenderly grieve together, forgive one another, and move forward together.

Proverbs 31

“She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family and portions for her female servants. She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.

She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.

She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple.

She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.”

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31:15-17, 20, 22, 25-26, 28-31‬ ‭NIV‬‬

©belindabotzong2018

Get Over It

She was always waiting for the Lord to return to get us all out of this messy world.

As sick as she was this past week she never said she was planning to beat him to the punch and leave before he got back to take all of us.

Knowing that we are just temporary citizens on earth changes the perspective on loss and death. The sadness and grief and tears are not that she has passed on into eternity but the thought of being separated from her in this life.

To not have that one person who knew you from the moment you were born is the pain.

To not have her demands and expectations is numbing.

She would constantly tell me how she loved my hair, that I was boring because I didn’t live with bling and watch tv, that I was amazing because I’m so sweet (though I’m not).

She found joy in her flowers, shopping for her motifs, buying people things they never wanted or needed, donating to causes she couldn’t afford. She had a servants heart and she hated with a passion being the one who needed to be helped in any way.

She prided herself on being a homeowner, having her hair styled, and refusing to use her walker or the other medical devices.

She was a widow for 38 years– exactly half her life — and she devoted herself to working and raising grandchildren.

Grief is painful and difficult and raw. She hated that people might cry over her leaving. Don’t you dare cry over me, she would say. Don’t worry about it. You can fire yourself from taking care of me. You are not obligated in anyway. She said that! As if it were possible.

A month ago I told her that she was the best mom because she had devoted her life to us but it’s hard to provide that same devotion back because we all have jobs and families and obligations and selfishness. She had just broken her arm and we were leaving on vacation so she was in the care of the home health people. She was very upset by that but ended up really liking the ladies who took care of her. I called her each day from vacation and that was unusual because I hate talking on the phone. She hated that I hate talking (on or off the phone).

She asked me recently why I used to have more time to run around with her. She forgot I work full time and have a family it seems. I told her I’ve been working full time since 1999 and maybe she’s thinking of when the kids were little and I only worked part time. She did not believe me-/

Tears are therapeutic – a cleansing –but very annoying as your eyes swell and snot runs and your head pounds.

I am not crying for her. She is rejoicing in heaven. I cry for myself and the thought of no more scenics with her. We looked at barns and farms and mountains and that perfectly round tree she exclaimed at down by the river. Our times together centered more recently on scheduling doctor appointments and going through the motions of chronic illnesses. The scenics and lunches became part of our ritual.

She took on anything I became interested in. She thought it was funny that I recently became so creative. She started seeing flowers for my petals as paint project. She bought equipment for candle making. She watched for historical info in the paper for my novel. She was always interested in whatever we were doing.

I grieve because she loved hearing stories about my work and she loved my coworkers wherever my career has taken me. When we lived in Arizona she wouldn’t come visit but she turned her whole living room decor into a desert theme/ cactus lamps and all!

When I was a child I can’t remember sitting on her lap or hugs and kisses. I don’t remember “I love you” being tossed about. Maybe she was too busy with five kids. But the last few years she always wanted hugs (I know, right?? All those hugs she despised from everyone else I think she secretly loved) and kisses goodbye. Recently as we went through a deep mental health crisis with my son she begged to have me sit in her lap so she could hold me and rock me in her chair. That wasn’t possible but I appreciated the idea. And she constantly said I love you.

I am not sad that she is in heaven. I am sad that it’s all over, relieved she suffers no more, and thankful for such a devoted mom. So my tears flow and my heart breaks and she would say “get over it. I’m fine.”

Goodbye

And now it’s my turn to grieve.

My feisty and tough, sassy and kind, determined and hard-headed, funny, sarcastic, and precious mom has passed into the arms of Jesus.

No more pain. No more suffering. No more loss. She is with my little brother, my dad and all those who went before her.

She was tough. She had a tender heart for babies and funny cat videos and jokes.

She helped raise my children and so many others. She thought I was amazing.

She was strong and strong willed.

She peeled and diced the most potatoes of any person and fried up the biggest pan for anyone and everyone.

She was an unsurpassed baker and loved feeding people. She hated her new kitchen appliances with all their buttons and beeps. She used her dishwasher as a file cabinet.

She hated that I used grocery home delivery for her. She was fiercely independent but bound by her dependence on me as she struggled with health issues. I failed to be as gracious as her demands in time and energy conflicted with my time and energy.

She loved tv and evangelists and shows like The Voice. So many phone calls started with “Hey Meliss, are you watching….” even though we told her repeatedly we rarely watch tv.

She was fiercely loving to me and cheered me on in everything I accomplished. Stubborn and determined. Once she set her mind on something she would not let it rest until it got done. She wanted a shofar of all things so made me book a trip to Israel. She hated traveling but wanted me and Savannah to go no matter what and bring her back a shofar. We leave next week for a holy land tour and will bring back her shofar.

She loved her flowers and her yard could never have enough. Just last week adding succulents to a birdbath she was determined was a planter.

She was particular about grocery brands and shopped her thousand catalogs of decor and weird objects for hours on end. She loved her bling, her earrings, her coordinated outfits. Her collections of chickens and all manner of “motifs”.

She could never get enough time with me. She loved our “scenics” — driving all around Skagit County again and again. Especially when I took her in her beloved “Buttercup” – the yellow smart car with eyelashes and a new vanity plate “BTTRKUP”. She loved that people laughed and waved and stopped to ask questions about her car when we would be at the gas station or even driving around town and people will wave us down to ask about gas mileage.

The river was hers. The view of the mountains from her living room brought her great joy. She loved the moon and would always call to see if we could see it too.

She would cuss like a sailor but hated nasty jokes. She could be crude and rude or quivering chin tender hearted.

She worked hard all her life and hated that she had to retire. She gave us a strong work ethic then complained that we work too much! She loved Sponge Bob Square Pants because he taught people to be diligent! Last week she couldn’t figure out why I don’t have more free time. She is just sure that as “the boss” I should come and go as I please and spend more time with her. I tried to explain that “the boss” means you work more, not less!

Saturday afternoons were our usual day together unless I had to take her to an appointment during the week, which was becoming more common as her health failed. She loved the backroads or just sitting down by the river at the steelhead club eating a burger.

She thought I was perfect but I am not. I sat with her Monday night and held her hand, put lip balm on her, listened to her talk about a chaplain at the hospital named Mary who had spent two hours with her that day listening to her life story. She wanted me to lay in the bed with her but I did not.

Last night I laid on the floor with her holding her hand and saying I’m sorry — but she was gone. I had just left her in a hurry last night after bringing her home from the hospital, filling new prescriptions while she sat in the car. I was hungry and grumpy. I sorted her meds and got her some food — I told her I was going to get her on a new kick -/ eating fresh rolls from Little Thailand. She wanted to start eating healthy stuff because the nutritionist at the hospital convinced her to try some recipes. I did a couple chores and told her I had to hurry so I could get back to Bellingham for my workout. I didn’t give her the usual kiss and “love you” as I hurried off and told her to “stay upright” for real– always my parting words after so many falls. I called her right after my workout to tell her to make sure she put on her “fallen and can’t get up” button. And to see if she ate her fresh rolls. She didn’t answer. I went home and called twice more. I called my aunt who went to check on her and found her collapsed on the floor. Gone. She would be so mad that we called 911. She would be so mad that we saw her laying there. She was prideful about that but we all were there and we held her hand and we cried and screamed. Loss. Guilt. Waves of nausea. Tears. Hugs. Numbness. Surreal fuzzy distorted conversations. People coming and going. Police. Firemen. Chaplain. Funeral home people. The cart. The sheet. The final goodbye. Gut wrenching. Nauseating. Overwhelming. Yet peace and comfort knowing that she believed in Jesus as God’s son and she was wrapped in his love and forgiveness. My first best friend, my mother, my mom, and forever known as Gooie.

Five kids. Ten grandkids.

Tom Belinda Anita Angela and Bob

Savannah, Mark, Tanner, Carissa, Nicki, Shania, Vanity, Matthew, Briann, and Talia.

Rest In Peace.

Upright in heaven. No more waddling. Reunited with Bob and dad. 💕💕

©Belindabotzong2018

First Best Friends

My daughter left today

My very best friend

Moving forward

Life’s journey

My mom is in the hospital

My first best friend

Moving forward

Life’s journey

I cleaned out my daughters room

Childhood memories and piles of artwork mixed with more piles of seventeen years of school assignments

Some I tossed without a care. Others I kept with a tear. Everything from journals to teeth to her final pacifier. Coins from around the world. Paint brushes to hair brushes. Invitations, celebrations. Report cards and note cards. Whispers of a treasured childhood and exclamations if struggles and victories.

She packed her car and drove away with multiple hugs lingering in my arms and sweet kisses on my face. I see her in my rear view mirror as that precious toddler who cried at my leaving for work. Now I lose a tear at watching her drive away a newlywed with big dreams and plans.

I am her biggest fan and her first best friend. My daughter.

My mom is medically unstable and poorly responding to treatment, preparing for her journey home to Jesus. Sooner or later.

I imagine soon I will be going through her things and clearing out decades of memories and accumulated items that are profoundly important and those clearly meaningless in the scope of things.

Old bills, photos from a century past, documents and piles of memories and catalogs galore filled with trash and treasures for earthly pleasures.

And I see her in my rear view mirror holding my toddler in her arms and waving goodbye as I headed off to work and she stayed behind to help her grow up.

I will watch her go ahead of me as it should be and she will cheer me on from above as she always has. My biggest fan. My first best friend. My mom.

©Belindabotzong2018

Such is Life

Life – Family – Relationships

Changes

Theirs – Moving forward

His- Stagnant

Hers- Ending

Theirs – Exciting

Hers – Adventurous

His – Struggling

Hers – Suffering

A cycle of plans, dreams, hopes, hopelessness, loss, opportunity, future, past

Youth, newlyweds, bachelors, middle aged couple, elderly woman

Change

Changing jobs, changing locations, sticking it out, sticking together, changing

Loss

Loss of health, mobility, power, choices

Grief, loss, joyous celebrations

Time

Mundane days, restless nights

nights filled with passion

days filled with tears

moments filled with laughter

Cycles

One turns into the other

What’s next is set in motion

Decisions, disagreements, consensus, conflict, forgiveness, best wishes, farewells, condolences

Life

Hard, challenging, rich, beautiful

Death

Real, crushing, freeing, liberating

Victory

I Saw Myself

I saw myself today

30 years ago a newlywed

In that cabin across the river

Where I sat for hours watching the currents sweep over the boulders

Time spent with my lover in solitude and adventure with dreams of the future and contented pleasure.

I saw myself today

20 years ago a mom of two hilarious children

Camped out on the floor in that cabin across the river

A family on vacation, swimming hole, and fishing poles

A walk to the gingerbread factory, the hat shop and the toy store ending with a German pretzel and dinner at the Baren Haus.

I saw myself today

In the present

Reflected in a store window

Shopping and thinking and exploring

Years of child-raising replaced by caring for my elderly mom

Picking wildflowers and pine cones and creating new things in my head

A time of respite and renewal, observing the changes that have taken place and those things that never change.

I saw myself today

20 years from now

Walking hand in hand with the same man I always loved

Coming to a light pole in the sidewalk with hands temporarily parting

Quickly rejoined to explore that same town we always have, getting bratwurst, walking to Blackbird Island, and talking about the years gone by

I saw myself today

30 years in the future

My white hair askew as a caregiver pushes me, donned in a royal purple bathrobe in a wheelchair down the Main Street

Past the horse and buggy, past the shops and restaurants

A pile of flowers and ornamental grasses on my lap gleaned from the passing displays and gardens

A smile on my face in memory of days gone by.

©Belindabotzong2018

Layers

Multi layered,

Multi faceted

Unseen layers

Private thoughts

Personal goals

Hopes and dreams

Hidden layers

Hurt and loss

Grief and memories

Love and hate and passions subdued

Intricate layers

Ideas and inspirations

Fears and triumphs

Aspirations and ideals

Outer layer

Designed and scarred

Unique and beautiful

Ingrained with the fingerprint of God the creator

Infusion of experiences and life

Inner strength and grace

Outer beauty, calm and peaceful

Protecting the inner layers like an armor

Allowing beauty and love and compassion to flow out