One day at a time

Everybody has a coping mechanism.  Mine is to stay busy.  So, imagine a weekend when I didn't stop working until I fell asleep at night.  I got so many things accomplished.  I sorted through my stuff to make room for the things Linda gave us, packing up things I didn't have a particular affinity for, other than the fact I'd had them for most of my life.  Things that had little value to begin with, except for the collecting of them and less after I'd used them.  And, we very quickly loaded those boxes into the truck and off to Goodwill before I could get back into them and take anything out. 

I also got that KitchenAid mixer apart and got all the old grease out of it.  As expected, it had started to separate into an oil and a sludge.  I don't know if that was the only thing making that awful noise, but I'm pretty sure it was part of it.  The grease that was left was mostly packed into a corner of the head and wasn't greasing the gears.  But, there was still plenty of grease on the gears, believe me.  That was a nasty project.  But, the smell of it reminded me of working on cars with my Dad when I was young. 

A couple weeks ago, I made a cover for my serger.  It's a very fun cover and I am very happy with the fabric I chose.  I needed a cover because of my cat.  I have a cat that loves the sensation of things in her mouth.  She would walk by the serger, grab the outer thread and walk around with it in her mouth, chewing on it and dragging and playing with it.  One day, I came home from work and picked up what I thought was a snip of thread in the dining room.  It tracked all the way back to the serger in the studio, all the way across the house.  And, while that was the worst time, it wasn't the only time.  I needed a cover that she couldn't get under. 

I love marbles.  I bought this marble fabric years ago and never did anything with it because it is so colorful.  This was the perfect project.  It has 45* mitered corners like a shopping bag without handles and it's the perfect width.  It slides on and off with ease, which is important because when I make things like this, they usually come out a little bit too tight.  And, it's snug enough that the can't couldn't get to the thread, even if she could remember it's there. 

I wanted to share this, too.  This is a little wicker sewing basket I got from Linda. 

This is NOT what it looked like when I got it.  It also had 35 yards of needlepoint wool and 14 skeins of embroidery floss and two broken pocket watches and several pair of clip on earrings and some necklaces and the buttons were loose instead of in that pretty little bag.  And, there were a handful of rusty pins and needles that I tossed, even though I recently had a tetanus shot.  The little needlepoint pin cushion is one of two.  There's the green one and a blue one as well.

Look at these thimbles.

Guess which one is mine and which one came in that cute little sewing box.

 We are nearing the end with Linda.  The dead are visiting.  Yesterday, she tried to introduce me to her Grandmother that she had told me so much about.  And, when I cried, she seemed so confused that I should be upset to meet a person that is so important to her.  So, I won't be doing that again.  I can buck up. 

We left Sydney to visit while we picked up a few things her son had found and wanted us to have at the apartment.  We haven't shielded Sydney from what is happening and we've let her have her cries and let her deal with it in her own way.  There's a line in the movie,  I Remember Mama where they are going to an Uncle's bedside and the mother says something like "I want that you should see death so that when it is your time, you will not be afraid of it."  And, I can't think of a better person for her to learn about death from.  Linda is happy and laughing and high as a kite and feeling no pain and getting to visit with her favorite people, past and present.  All at the same time. 

And, I am preparing to say goodbye, any day. 

And, staying busy while I wait. 

Yesterday, she told us an orange cat had been in the room.  It's actually possible.  The hospital she's in does pet visitations.  We didn't ask the nurse.  Let's let that one be a mystery. 

Everybody have a great week.  Keep us in your thoughts.  Hug somebody.  Smile at everybody. 



Anonymous said...

I am sorry you all are going through this but happy that Linda is getting to meet and greet friends and family at the end and to be comfortable while she does it. I am a retired hospice RN and many of the dying have pet visitations too. I've had to work around "imaginary" pets lying in bed with patients and who am I to say what's real. Remember to be gentle with yourself and now is the time for as much self-care as you can manage. Best wishes.

Anonymous said...

I am so sorry. Death seems to be all around us. Continue to visit her and meet all her friends and relatives. Where is her cat? Keep Sydney close...lum

Anonymous said...

Lane, Rob, Sydney.....we are all here for you. Thinking of you and hoping the transition is peaceful. Mary

Dot said...

You have a very generous spirit. Linda is so lucky to have you in her life, in the past and as she moves on.

Every day, I try to grow and live up to your fine example of how to live a life, on so many levels.

Rebecca Grace said...

Your wicker sewing basket and thimbles reminded me of the sewing treasures I rescued from my grandmother's house before my aunt sold or trashed everything that didn't have material value. I have a little wooden rocking chair that she made in shop class in high school, with a black velvet seat and back cushion for pins and spool holders on the sides for thread. I have a smooshed crocheted chicken pincushion, too. These keepsakes are bittersweet because at first they reminded me of her every time I saw them, but now that she has been gone for nearly 15 years the objects feel more equally mine and hers, with layers of new memories covering over the original significance of the keepsakes, pushing the memories of my grandmother using them farther and farther into the past. I say you should keep Linda's thimble in the sewing basket, right next to yours. You'll definitely never be able to use that thimble so it will remain 100% Linda, hanging out with you in the sewing room for years to come.

Becky said...

Treasure your visits with Linda. I recently lost my dear quilting "sister", and even though I can accept it, and do not wish her back, I am grieving her terribly. I feel like I have lost a wheel.

You are a dear friend.
Love you bunches!