Snippets From Sam

Mocking Bird Family By Mjmyap Flickr

Tuesday night I was sitting at the table with my bedtime glass of milk and a book. It was about 11 PM. I became aware of a mockingbird outside my window in the cedar tree just singing its heart out. The song was incredibly beautiful and I silently blessed this bird for giving me so much pleasure.

About 4 AM I got up to go to the bathroom and the little bird was still singing. When I awakened in the morning the bird was silent. I think God knows that nights are sometimes very tough for me and so he sends me a mockingbird to help me through the darkness.

Last night at 1 AM I again was sitting at the table with my glass of milk and book and outside the window was the glorious song of the mockingbird. I don’t really know why it sings all night long but I do know that the song was given to me by a loving God who gives me hope for the future and calm for the present. I am truly blessed.

Mom worked for the stock market all of her adult life and knew the business backwards and forwards. She loved her work and didn’t want to retire when she turned 65. However, she was forced to retire at 70. She hated retirement. Mom needed to be busy. She started volunteering at church and at Boyd Hill Nature Park. She took care of her grandchildren, she took care of her daughters.

She loved animals and always had one dog and 1-2 cats around. After Mom retired she went for a long walk every morning and evening. One morning she was out in Lakewood Estates walking her beloved bassett hound, Beauregard and found a buff colored chicken in some bushes. She rushed home, got out the cat carrier and drove her car back to where she had found the chicken. She managed to catch the it, put it in the carrier and took it home. Clucky lived in Mom’s back yard for many years and rewarded Mom with an egg almost every day.

As Mom aged she became more frail but remained undaunted by the tasks at hand. She had her first fracture when she was up on a kitchen chair dusting the top of her refrigerator. The chair tipped over and she fell breaking her hip. “Nobody dusts the top of their refrigerator”, exclaimed the paramedic who came to take her to the hospital. “I do”, she announced firmly.

The anesthesia from that surgery took its toll on her memory. Her next fall came when she and Beauregard were running, yes I said running, home from my house. She tripped over something on the sidewalk and broke her pelvis. Another trip to the hospital but fortunately no surgery this time because the break was non displaced. Unfortunately, she took another fall before the break healed and it had displaced. Due to her age, surgery was declined. This fall took more of her and she was in pain a lot of the time.

When she got home from the hospital, Mom was not eating well, could not take care of her house and was quite forgetful. The family decided it was time for assisted living. September 2000 she and Beauregard moved to a villa at Westminster Shores, mostly against her will. She still felt she could take care of herself, drive her car and stay independent. I will never forget the look on her face when we left her there that first night. I felt I had betrayed her.

Almost every Tuesday and Thursday Mom and I went to the thrift stores. She could buy a bushel basket full of nice stuff and spend less than $20. Then we would head to McDonalds for a hamburger and strawberry milk shake. Saturdays were yard sale days in the neighborhood. After tromping through neighbors yards looking for treasures, I sometimes had lunch with her at Westminster.

After she had adjusted to the move, she started creating a garden of flowers outside her villa. Every few weeks I took her to the Willow Tree Nursery to pick up more flowers. The garden grew from a little plot of posies to a large area of riotous color all along the side of her villa. How she loved that garden. Other residents walked down the alley just so they could admire her work.

In March 2006, due to finances, Mom went to live with Linda who had moved to Georgia shortly after Mom went to Westminster. At first we talked on the phone frequently. After her short term memory was gone, and conversation on Mom’s part became sparse, Melissa would call me every Thursday morning on her speaker phone so I could talk to Mom. I read her children’s books by Stephen Cosgrove. They were delightful and each story had a moral and a happy ending. Mom seemed to loved them.

Melissa had called the Methodist minister and asked him to come for a visit. Tuesday November 18, he came by and talked with Mom, read her Bible verses and prayed with her. From that visit on she stopped crying all the time and became very peaceful.

Thursday, the day before she died, Missy called to tell me that Granny was unresponsive and could not talk on the phone. She said the doctor told them it would be only a matter of days. That night I asked God to give her peace but to please let her come tell me goodbye when she left this world.

Early Friday morning, I was sound asleep when suddenly, from outside my bedroom door, my vacuum cleaner turned on and then off. I sat up in bed looking out to see who had turned it on. There was no one. I looked at the clock and it was 650 AM. Too early to get up so I went back to sleep.

At 730 Melissa called to tell me that Granny had passed on peacefully. I talked to Linda and asked her what time Mom had died. Ten to 7 Linda told me. I held my breathe for a moment and realized that Mom had come to say goodbye.

I will always miss her terribly but I know she is in a better place, whole and happy and walking Beauregard through the gardens of Heaven. I love you Mom. See you at the house.

Born 5-16-14 – Died 11-21-08 – Memorial 12-13-08

I am overwhelmed today by a deep sorrow that I have been in denial of for several months now. My mother’s life is coming to an end. I have such mixed emotions I don’t know what to do with them. I have been crying all day.

I tried to talk to Mom this morning. The past three weeks she has been unresponsive to my questions and conversation. When I ask her a question I hear Missy in the background saying, “You have to say the word Granny. Aunt Sandra can’t see you nod.” Mom will whisper, “Yes.”

Yesterday I talked to Missy and she told me that Mom has to have mittens put on her hands now because she is gouging her thighs until they bleed. She is forming the contractures consistent with end stage Alzheimer’s and Missy is doing some physical therapy exercises on her.

When I remember the vital, independent woman my mother was, it breaks my heart to think of her like this. It hurts so much sometimes I just can’t breathe. Do I want her to continue to just exist? Or would I rather see her go home to her God and be well and whole again? The answer is not simple. I do not want her to suffer any longer and if she could have her say, she would tell us she would rather die.

On the other hand, when she dies I will have lost the only person on this earth who has loved me unconditionally all my life. No matter what, my mother has always been there for me. She has been my rock and I could turn to her at any time for anything. But this is just me feeling sorry for myself for my loss rather than thinking of her gain.

When I pray for her I just ask God to surround her with peace because I know in her jumbled mind she is not at peace. Missy says Mom cries all the time she is awake, and she was crying when I talked to her this morning. I read her two stories and that seemed to calm her but what, I wonder, happens after I hang up? Does anyone up there ever read her stories? Do they tell her that they love her?

What will I do without my mother in my world?

It was a sunny, balmy, breezy day, just perfect for a walk with an owl. I was a volunteer for Boyd Hill Nature Preserve with the bird of prey program. I headed down to get Phantom, the barred owl I have been working with for the past 6-8 months. I was teaching her to perch on the glove so we can start using her in our educational programs. She had only been getting on the glove for about 6 weeks. This type of training takes a long time and much patience.

When I first started with her I just stood on the ladder holding the glove in front of her for several minutes each day so she could get acquainted with it and not be frightened when the time finally came for her to actually get on it. So far patience had been paying off and she was coming along very well. The first day I actually hooked up her jesses and pulled her onto the glove she was not happy and bated off the glove. Being a glove novice she did not know what to do to get herself back up onto the glove. I had to get my free hand underneath her and gently push her body back up onto the glove and hope that she would grasp it with her feet. She did not. Once again I pushed her back up to the glove telling her that it is not dignified to be hanging upside down from a long strap attached to her legs. She didn’t care about dignity. The lesson for that day was over because once the bird is stressed I could not accomplish anything by forcing her to continue.

Many sessions later perseverance finally paid off and she eventually got the idea that it was really OK to be standing on a glove. We did not go anywhere, just stood in the cage while she felt the glove, jesses and strap. I whispered to her the whole time to calm her. By this time she had also learned how to get herself back up on the glove when she bated. What a feeling of joy I had the first time I actually took her out of her aviary. We only walked down the trail for about 50 feet but it was a giant step for her to be out of her security zone. Finally, on this day we were going to take our first long walk. Things were great. She watched me as I talked to her; she looked down at my feet hearing my footsteps whishing through the grass. I would elevate her on the glove up into the air above my head so she could feel the sun on her body and have the breeze ruffle her beautiful feathers. I sang to her softly. She blinked slowly at me with her wonderful dark eyes. She was actually enjoying this walk. After about 30-45 minutes I headed back to the aviary by way of the back parking lot. As we were heading down the trail a car pulled into the lot. Phantom tensed and I tried to distract her from bating but it was too late. She just bombed off the glove and was hanging upside down and frantically flapping her wings. Because she only has one wing and the shoulder of the other wing, all this accomplished was for her to spin in circles. She was very effectively twisting the jesses and strap around her feet so when I tried to get her back on the glove it was like her feet were tied together and she could not get a grip. I was trying to untangle her but she was flapping so madly it was impossible to untangle her.

In the meantime the person driving the car came over to see if she could help. She is a new volunteer but had never handled a bird before so there was nothing she really could do at that point. After a few frantic moments I just put my arm around the owl and pulled her upright against my chest. That was when we noticed she was dripping blood. Quick inspection revealed that she had broken a blood feather on her amputated wing. If the bleeding is not stopped quickly, the bird can exsanguinate in a short period of time. The only way to accomplish this is to pull out the blood feather with needle nose pliers. This is not something I normally carry around with me and besides it is a two-person procedure, one to hold the bird still and the other to pull the feather out. All I could think of was to pinch off the feather to keep the blood from flowing so freely. This I did while I carried her back to the aviary. Now the bird is clinging to my chest with her talons, which are the most dangerous part of her body, but she never even broke the skin. She just blinked up at me as though waiting for me to make everything OK.

When I got her to the outside workbench I was able to untangle the jesses and strap. I tried to get her to sit on a perch but she instead jumped back to the glove. All the while I am pinching off that blood feather and trying to put some styptic on it as a temporary measure to stop the bleeding. The styptic did not work; the blood was just flowing out too fast. Pinching was the only thing that stopped it. By this time we both were covered with blood spatter.The novice bird volunteer tried to find the ranger in charge of the birds but she had gone home to go to her granddaughter’s graduation. The only other person who was qualified to pull the feather was our head volunteer Gabe but he was not due to come in until 5 PM. It was only 4 but Bobbie and I decided this was worth a call to him anyway. She called, I pinched.

Gabe got there in about 15 minutes. He got a towel and threw it over the bird’s head so she would not struggle when we worked on her. I held her feet just in case she decided to test out just how deep she could jab those talons into a hand while Gabe pulled out the offending blood feather. He then packed the wound with styptic after flooding it with peroxide. We watched her for about 15 minutes to make sure the styptic had done its job. Then Gabe took the bird and gently set her in the box in her aviary. We watched her for another hour and declared that the emergency was over.

The next day I went down to the park to see how she was and she was fine. She blinked, I sang “You Are My Sunshine” to her and she let me scratch her head. She got onto the glove for a short walk. What a trooper she is. I have a feeling that she will be one of those special birds like GHO (the great horned owl) who are just a dream to handle. What a blessing to be able to actually touch and love these magnificent birds.

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Part Two My Mother

By: Sam

This a continuation of the post I made about my mother on May 11, 2008

Mom was at Westminster for 5 ½ years. At first she hated it but then she adapted. She had a bare place where the workers had taken out a dead tree right outside her window. I took her to Willow Tree nursery and she bought a truck full of annuals and perennials and turned that bare spot into a lovely garden. Residents and caregivers walked past her villa just to admire the flowers. It was such a pretty garden and how she loved that bright colorful spot she created. Every season Mom and I would go to the nursery for the periennials of the season. Pansies were her all time favorite and she loved Christmas because that is when the pansies started showing up in the nurseries.

 Then, in 2005, Mom lost her beloved companion Beau and she gave up on life. She never stopped grieving for this dog that gave her so much joy for 16 years. I watched her slowly fade away and my heart breaks for all the losses she has had and borne so valiantly, until now.

 I feel that my mother is the last of the generations where families stayed together, celebrated holidays together, Sunday dinners together, family cook outs, we all went to church together. While Richard was alive he continued the family get togethers but after he was gone so went family tradition.

 In 2006, due to financial situations, my mother had to be relocated to Georgia to stay with my sister so I don’t get to see her every couple days as I did when she was at Westminster. I miss her so much. We talked by phone almost every day but Mom got so hard of hearing I have to shout so she can hear me. I even got her a phone for the hearing impaired but she still cannot hear everything I say. 

 At first Mom was left alone all week because right after my sister offered her a home Linda got a job so she was gone from 630 AM until 6 PM. Mom told me that sometimes she doesn’t even see Linda for 2-3 days because Linda doesn’t even come in to check on Mom when she gets home from work.

 Several months after the move Mom had a heart attack. If I had not listened to my inner voice and called when I did Mom would have died and who knows when she would have been found dead in bed. I feel so helpless down here while she is up there and not properly cared for. I don’t understand how Linda can be my sister and care so little about our mother.

 I just have to put Mom in God’s hands and I pray constantly for her safety. I don’t know what else to do. I know she is unhappy there but she has determined to make the best of it. At 94 she does not want to make any more moves. I know she is lonely. If it wasn’t for Melissa and Lindsay, my sister’s daughter and granddaughter, looking out for Mom, there would be no one to help her if she needs it. 

 I know how she feels and sometimes I have a real pity party. But there is some good stuff going on as well. Melissa and Lindsay treasure my mother and Missy is home every day except Thursdays. She is about 1000 yards down the drive and only a phone call away. 

In 2007 Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. She has good days and bad days. Melissa takes wonderful care of her grandmother for which I will be grateful until the day I die. I get to talk to Mom every Thursday. Melissa calls on her cell phone after she has gotten Mom up, showered and given her breakfast. The phone is put on speaker so that Mom does not have to touch anything, just talk. I have been buying children’s books, mostly by Stephen Cosgrove, because she loves the stories. The stories always have a moral and the drawings of the animals are darling. After I have read the book I mail them up to her so she can see the pictures. Melissa tells me that Mom sits in her wheelchair and reads these books over and over.

We don’t know what the future holds for my mother. She just turned 94, her short term memory is gone but she can remember things that happened when I was a child and so we reminisce about times past and for a while I can hear a smile in her voice. Yes, there are also tears but most of them are for happy memories. This story cannot end as long as my Mom is alive but when it does end I know without a doubt that she will finally be at peace and whole again.

I love you Mom.

JOY is knowing that God loves me.

JOY is having a child hug me and say “I love you Grandma”.

JOY is just hearing the voice of one of my sons.

JOY is having friends that I know will always be there for me.

JOY is watching the sun rise up over the top of the mountain on a frosty morn.

JOY is burying your face in a cluster of flowers and feeling intoxicated by their fragrance.

JOY is walking through the woods and hearing the birds sing and watching the wildlife forage for food.

There are so many things that can bring us joy. Unfortunately too many people are in too much of a hurry to stop and appreciate the pure joy of just being alive.

 My husband taught me so much about the world we live in and how to appreciate the little things we sometimes blunder into just by chance. I loved to walk through the woods with him. He always saw things I would have missed if he had not pointed them out to me; a tiny bat hanging from the tip of a tree limb blending into its surroundings so well it looked like a leaf, a minute track in very shallow water made by some sea creature living in a small shell, a fawn lying so still in the brush, a bird’s nest in the low hanging branches of a tree with three tiny eggs, a wiggly track across the path made by a passing snake.

 I had always considered myself a nature lover but I never really knew what that meant until Richard. He refused to go to church with me but considered nature and all its wonders his church. Jesus said, “the real church is in the heart of the believer” and Richard worshiped God by revering this earth and all things created. Some times he carried it to the extreme, for instance, rather than kill bugs in the house, he would relocate them to outside. I was dumbfounded the first time I saw him pick up a cockroach and carry it to the back yard and turn it loose. He felt that if God created it, then it must have a purpose even if that purpose was the fact that it might be food for another of God’s creatures. Remembering Richard brings me a combination of joy and regret for what should have been.

 I have my animals. There is definitely joy in them. Rowdy, the Quaker parrot, talks to me. He tells me that he loves me, mimics my laugh, my cough. He tells me that his cage buddy Cricky, a lovebird, is a “bad boy” but Rowdy is always a “good boy”. Spotty, a rare finch, sings the most beautiful song all day long. Poppy and Peasy, both lovebirds, sit on my shoulder as I feed them and give them fresh water. There are times I have a parrot on my head and three lovebirds on my shoulders. Wow, I feel like the tree of joy.

My two cats, Vanessa and Amanda, are good companions. Vanessa is a snuggle bunny and will lay in my lap for hours if I let her. Usually my leg goes to sleep before she will move. Amanda follows me around like a dog. She doesn’t like being held or snuggled but will sleep next to me with her head on my leg. She is an impish clown and makes laugh with her antics. More joy.

Mystic, my somewhat neurotic dog, I have discovered will protect me with her life. I have always considered her a sissy dog but the other day while the termite inspector was going through the house Mystic kept herself between him and me the whole time he was in the house. If he got too close, she moved toward him in a menacing manner. I was impressed.

 Putting these things into words brings them into perspective. Maybe I have more joy in my life than I realize. It’s like listening to God; be still and know He is working constantly in my life to bring me joy. All I have to do recognize it for what it is.