Author: kokomeau

For Amy,

First, I will say I love you. I am one of the many hundreds of lucky individuals to know you and to love you and be loved by you.

I remember you saying once you don’t want to be remembered as ‘the girl who fought cancer and lost.’ And I remember thinking at the time no matter what happens, you will never have lost. You have brought more light, love and joy to the world than anyone I know.

So let’s reminisce about what I love:

• Getting to know you when you were only in your mid-to-late 20’s, even though I certainly knew you before that through our parents’ friendship.
• Your generosity in sending mom and dad to Florida – until Sean finally kicked us in the butts and said, ‘Hey, why is Amy sending them when we can all jointly send them?”
• Your higher score on the ACTs. You know what I mean. 😉
• Spending time in Florida with you, mom and dad, watching you exercise, laughing when you’d pinch dad’s butt, the wonderful meals you’d prepare, your non-stop chatter and energy!
• At Sean and Cathy’s when you came around the pool carrying one of the infant twins and you saying, “I could do this, couldn’t I?” (You always would question your mothering ability, and I would always tell you you’d make a wonderful mother. I was right.)
• Hibernian parties. New Year’s Eve parties. St. Patty’s Day parties. You always dressed for the occasion, no matter what!
• Sparky Airport Transport. Driving around and around the terminal because we’re talkingtalkingtalking and you missed the stop. And no matter what time of day or night, you were always willing to make the drive, sometimes still in your flannel onesie pj’s!
• Burning Kev’s French toast. Talkingtalkingtalking. LOL!
• Your eternal optimism. (Are you sure you’re not Irish?)
• Those damned dogs racing down your stairs to attack me!
• John Edward! (What will your sign be? I’ll watch for it!)
• “One groovy chick.” And you are!!!
• Allowing me to shave your head.
• Elephant-fest!
• Your precious relationship with my parents.
• Our talks. I loved our talks. For someone with your IQ, it always amazed me how you would constantly question your abilities or second-guess yourself.
• Your undying support of me in whatever my choices were.
• Your unconditional love.
• Your bravery in the face of so many difficulties! Losing one parent then another. That first ‘marriage.’ Learning who your real friends are. Finances. Health.
• Your tremendous devotion to Theo and to Don.
• Your quick wit and raucous laughter!

You are the very bravest of women. A steel magnolia. A warrior. You have left an indelible mark on those you’ve touched and those you will touch in the future through your words. Though you don’t see it now, you are one of the lucky ones. You filled your life with love, laughter, family and friends. I don’t personally know any other person who has the following you do. You have created a support group for Don and Theo that will see them through the difficulties ahead. You have fought bravely and ferociously. You have lived a long, full life in a mere 43 years. And there is a time for every season. Your boys will be okay. You will be okay. The next chapter is ahead of you: Your mom, your dad, Charlie – they’re all waiting for you with open arms!

And I’ll be watching for you. I love you dearly, and I will miss you forever.

Maureen
Aka CP / Chicky-poo

 

Had a great visit with Thom’s sister and brother-in-law, Sharon and Bob, last week. That’s the good news.  The bad news is that Thom had put his back out the Saturday before they arrived when we took Sadie for a walk while we were on bikes. He was holding her leash and balancing his bike at the same time; apparently not a good thing for someone with a bad back. It’s now a week and a half later, and it’s still not good. We’re all trying to convince him to try a chiropractor. He must be in bad shape, because I think he’s actually considering it. Here’s hoping.

Boy, did I have the return trip from hell Monday trying to get back home to Florida from Michigan.  What started out quite pleasant — an early-afternoon flight out of Traverse City to Detroit — turned into a four-legged yo-yo experience like nothing I’ve had in awhile. And even though I do love to fly — I really do — three more legs and three different planes later PLUS an hour-long delay out of Charlotte was about enough to do me in.

The most interesting stop by far, though, was my second leg from Detroit to Huntington, West Virginia. I mean, I know there’s not a lot of big towns on that side of the state, but this little ‘terminal,’ if I might call it that, was out of one of those sitcoms about the south. Remember WINGS?  I’d been a little concerned about making my connections at each of my stops since I wasn’t familiar with the terminals and didn’t know how far I’d have to run to get to the next gate. I needn’t  have worried. Arriving in Huntington, we deplaned onto the tarmac and walked into the terminal. I looked around for a gate monitor. When I finally got my bearings I realized I was already standing at the gates. All three of them. When I walked forward a little way, I saw that if I went TOO far, I’d be exiting the airport and would have to go through security again, which I could see right in front of me. I found vending machines and a bathroom, then settled in for the hour-long wait for my next flight. My turbo-propped airplane came screaming up to the gate, and that’s when I realized, without a doubt, that this was a reeeeeeally little airport. Soon all nine of us boarded this airplane and took off for Charlotte, North Carolina.

I like Charlotte’s airport. In the center of it there’s a bunch of nice shops and white porch rockers for your convenience, if you’re lucky enough to find one open, which I never am.  But it’s a nice-sized terminal, nothing too far away — not like Detroit where you have to travel by foot under the runways to get from one terminal to the next. Aside from having our gate moved and our flight delayed over an hour, it was a pretty uneventful flight to Daytona Beach and home.

I’m staying put for awhile.

Wow. It’s 6:00 o’clock, and we’re up. And even though it’s still dark out there, there’s one bird that’s as noisy as anything I’ve heard. Wish I could find out what it is just by the sound! “Choo, choo, choo…choo, choo, choo, choo, choo!”  I don’t hear anyone answering him back; maybe that’s why he keeps it up for so long. Yesterday I even had to close the slider after I’d opened it up. That’s how loud he is!!!

I’m not complaining. I’d much rather hear that than traffic, construction, or much of anything else. But I’d also really like to know what it is.

I was searching for something in my g-mail recently when this old e-mail headline caught my eye. Of course I had to open it and see just what the heck prompted this heart-stopping (for any knitter) headline.

Apparently, my knittin’ buddy Anita and I were working on a keyhole shawl pattern called “Starry Starry Night”that we were both pretty excited about; something challenging, but those are always fun when you do them with someone else. We were both having the same issue with the pattern where the directions simply did NOT make sense to us ‘advanced’ knitters. I had written the pattern designer with our questions, and I received her email response a few mornings later. The above headline was what I’d written in my email to Anita, knowing that she’ll often get up and start knitting at 3:00 a.m. The body of the email was simply:

“I heard back from the pattern designer! 

WE’RE DOING IT WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The designer went on to explain that the pattern was correct, and why.

These are the ‘ties’ that bind us knitters together.  LOL!!!!