My Little Goldfish

(My remembrance from the memorial service for my stepmom, at St. James United Methodist Church, Niagara Falls, New York, Sunday, January 27, 2012)

My dad always gave me the best presents.  When I was five years old he made me a fabulous rocking horse and when I was going off to college he gave me my very own portable typewriter.  Little did I know the best present was to come in 1972 when he married Carol, and after being an only child all my life, I suddenly had a whole new family.

   

In addition to this new mother, I had two brothers, and they had wives and children; now their children have children – so I have brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces and grand nephews.  Carol also arrived with a dear quirky aunt and a delightful animal-loving sister and I ended up with two new cousins as well – not to mention various dogs, including one very special step-poodle and an awful lot of cats.

Carol and I began to become acquainted with each other right here at St. James – for many years we attended the then-annual Mother and Daughter Banquet.  We always had a grand time – eating and laughing and singing - and did I mention eating?  Our favorite experience was the entertainment portion of one unforgettable evening – a chorus of retired men, clad in spiffy red blazers, who belted out “Rise up O Men of God” as their first number.  Carol and I laughed about that for years!

We grew closer in our relationship after my dad died in 1999.  I visited her weekly and she fed me, (or we went out for Chinese), we went shopping and we enjoyed a lot of movies.  We sat in the sunlight and chuckled at the antics of the birds and the squirrels.   Every Thanksgiving we watched the Dog Show on television. 

 

After she moved into Sterling House and later Clair Bridge she continued to enjoy her life – looking forward, of course, to family visits but taking part in all activities that were offered.  The level of care she received at both places was truly a Godsend.  The amazing staff always made sure she was well-fed, warm, safe, entertained and happy.  Some days, however, when I visited she would seem kind of lonesome, longing for a visit from “her boys.” But then she would laugh, pat her hand on my knee and say, “But I’ve got you, babe!”

Towards the last few years of her life, Carol developed an increasingly distressing loss of her short-term memory.  We all went through a bad patch during the stage when she was aware of this loss and became perplexed and occasionally vexed; but once she forgot this forgetting, she was, as the Buddhists call it, “living in the now.”   And this is where her wonderful personality came into play – everything and everyone she encountered was a fresh delight.  I took to thinking of her as My Little Goldfish – she just swam around and around in her little domain and she enjoyed every single minute of her life.  Let us hope that all of us may be equally blessed.

November 2012, age 97, working on a painting.

                                           

Here's My Plan

In 2008 I inherited my dad's antique oak bookcase, 59" long, 57" high, and 14" deep.  This aged behemoth has adjustable oak shelves and three single-pane glassed doors.  Unfortunately, this lovely and most-treasured piece was placed in front of the loveseat in my living room upon its arrival and there it still stands today, five years later.  Shelf by shelf I have managed to fill it up with junk and stuff, instead of finding the perfect location for it and filling it with my real treasures (like my larger horse figurines - I am so weary of dusting them!).

I love this bookcase - it has been in my family for as long as I can remember.  It lived in my dad's study in each of our parsonages.  It was always filled to the brim with his most precious books - his collection of religious tomes, some ancient and leather-bound.  Old Bibles, modern texts, the 1909 Compton's encyclopedia (which I still have).  

I measured and remeasured it, trying to think where I could shoehorn it into an appropriate location in my house.  Too deep for the hallway ( I could just imagine crashing a clumsy elbow through the glass).  Anyway, the hallway is already lined with ten shallower bookshelves, one chest of drawers and one tall cabinet.  Thus was the hallway eliminated from consideration.

Kitchen?  No.  That would be silly; plus the antique oak china cabinet is already out there, filled with knick knacks from grandma and mom .  Bathroom?  No. Too moist, and there are already two bookshelves in there. Bedroom?  No.  Seven bookshelves, three small cabinets and multiple stacking bins.  So back to the living room.  If I relocate the filing cabinet and the maple corner cabinet, and move the loveseat and a few chairs, I do believe it will fit into a nice safe corner.  It only took me five years to think of this solution.

Of course before I move the filing cabinet I have to clear a space for it.  If I Freecycle the old oak dresser in the utility room, the file cabinet will fit in there.  But first I have to clear out the utility room.  And most of the other stuff in there - six or seven cat carriers, a 50 gallon drum of pine chip litter and numerous 5 gallon buckets full of more stuff - all of these need to be moved into the front hall.

Of course the front hall is full of bags of pop bottles and other recyclables.  The recyclables will go to the curb and the returnable pop bottles go into my stash in the garage (my only savings account).  I must also make the decision to recycle the 100 pounds or so of old framing magazines I have stashed in bins and boxes.  That should allow me enough room to store the cat carriers and other stuff from the utility room and maybe squeak the oak dresser out into the garage if anyone wants to pick it up.  It cannot live in the garage for too long or it will go to a moldy grave out there.

So, there.  Now I have a plan.  New Years is always the time to create plans.  All I have to do now is get started in the right spot and I will be on my way!  Happy New Year!