Uncategorized | Change Is Hard

December 19, 2010
by dawnkinster 9 Comments

Missing Mom

During all the hustle and bustle of this holiday season I’m taking a small quiet moment to miss my Mom. I know I’m not alone. Many of you out there are heading into another Christmas season without a Mom. So I feel bad whining about missing my own. Still, it’s my blog and I can whine if I want to.

Last night I was putting ornaments on the tree. Husband was off to a big box store looking for plumbing parts – no, he wasn’t Christmas shopping for my gift – so I was alone with the tree and a big box full of memories. So much of what we hang on our trees are memories. The ornament from childhood, the one that was a gift from family. As I contemplated the perfect spot on the tree for each I smiled. Mom would have liked these birds in nests…a cousin gave me this box of ceramic ornaments years ago…I remember when my sister and I shopped for these glass stars.

Then I found a box filled with tissue paper, the only ornament inside a glass santa. And suddenly I remembered the last time my Mom was here, just before Christmas in 2003, when we went up to Bronners giant Christmas store and I saw this little Santa ornament. I told her I thought it was like one that her mother always had on the tree years ago. So Mom bought it for me.

This year as I put the little glass Santa in a prime spot, high up on the front of the tree, I felt that old familiar pang. I miss my Mom. And I think about how she must have missed her own Mom all those years after Grandma died, though I never asked her about it. I wish I had.

So this Christmas I hope they’re hanging ornaments on a tree together, reminiscing about Christmas days gone by. And eating Mom’s famous cranberry jello, the one with the big globe grapes and crunch celery.

Merry Christmas Mom. I’m making that cranberry jello again this year. And I’ll be thinking about you.

December 18, 2010
by dawnkinster 16 Comments

Why two won't work

Maisie’s sister is for sale. She’d be about 2 years old, and I’m sure she’s a beautiful tri- sheltie. I’d love to have her. But this morning, in the early gray light of pre-dawn I recognized why having two shelties won’t work for us.

The one sheltie-girl we have had to go out at 6:30 this morning. She doesn’t know that it’s Saturday. Or that Mama had a really long week. She just knows that she goes outside at 6:30 every morning. If not earlier. So I drag myself out of bed, bundle up in layers while she hops impatiently around my feet. Out we go into the dark. Up and down the path her Dad shoveled for her. Up and down the path again. Have to smell everything. Trying to find a really good spot.

Apparently there were no good spots, and after 15 minutes she turned and trotted purposefully toward the house. I went back to bed. At 7:00 she had to go out. I told her to “GO LIE DOWN!” She did for a minute, then she was back. She had to go! I told her to GO LIE DOWN!!! She burrowed under the blanket, down to my feet and nipped my toes.

I dragged myself out of bed, put on the layers. We went out. Walked up and down the path. A lot. I sang to her “Find a spot…find a spot. Katie go bathroom.” My ears were freezing. So was my nose. We left the path and slogged through the snow, out to the road, sniffed the mailbox and then trotted briskly back up the driveway. She skidded around the corner into her path and we raced to the end of it. I was excited; surely now we’d get some action? She stood at the end of the path and looked at me. Then she trotted for the front door. I went back to bed.

Twenty minutes later she knocks me up the side of my head with her paw. She wants to go out. I didn’t even try to tell her to lie down. I dragged myself out of bed, added the layers..we went out. Read above paragraphs for the routine. We ended up back inside with no business being done.

I thought to myself. If there were TWO shelties I’d get to do all this times two. No way am I up for that. So we’ll try to find Maisie’s sister a good home, somewhere she’ll be spoiled rotten, in a warmer climate maybe, or someone with a fenced yard so going out isn’t such an ordeal.

Cause this Mama is already tired. And it’s going to be a long winter.

December 13, 2010
by dawnkinster 8 Comments

Misery

Misery is:

Getting up early because you know the roads are going to be bad.

Going outside to find your vehicle covered in ice and snow. And the wind is howling, making the wind chill well below zero.

The normal 40 minute commute stretching into 2.5 hours as you creep with the rest of the fools along crowded roads at an average of 6 mph.

Realizing hours later, after a short but long day of work, while walking back out to the car that the wind is still howling, it’s still freezing out. And guess what? The roads are no better.

Spending 1 hour to move 2 miles in a multi mile backup with no escape route available.

But on the other hand….Joy is:

Listening to music from the Nutcracker at 7:00, the exact hour your own community band concert should have been starting…because you have time to mess around with the radio in the new car. Given you aren’t moving anyway.

Getting an enthusiastic hand wave from the young lady you let merge into traffic ahead of you. Because really, after 45 minutes and less than a mile traversed, what does one more car matter?

Then again...misery is:

When the “holiday pops” music turns into some sort of monk chant. You change the channel to a Grateful Dead station. Who knew there was such a thing? Playing music from 12/13/1980. You’re not even a Grateful Dead fan, but this is better than the monk thing.

When you realize the young woman you let merge in front of you is texting and not paying attention. So she’s not moving ahead when she could be. OK. So it’s only going to move you up a few feet. Maybe a yard. But after 50 minutes you want every foot of progress you can get.

Watching a guy walking on the shoulder pass you. And seeing him many minutes later head over the hill about 1/2 mile away. And you’re still pretty much where you’ve been for the past 50 minutes.

Joy is:

Realizing you sort of like this Grateful Dead stuff.

Misery is:

Getting past the accident that has snarled traffic after more than an hour and 2 miles of progress and realizing the roads are still really really bad. And deciding that 6 mph is about as fast as you’re willing to go anyway.

And there are at least 20 more miles to make it home.

And that the roads are so bad you turn off the Grateful Dead. Because you don’t want to become one. And you have to listen to the sound of the wheels on the snow and ice so that you can anticipate any problems.

Finding yourself behind a really slow car just before a big hill. Who stops to turn left. Leaving you to creep up the hill of ice with no momentum. Left tire in the left turn lane which is snow covered helps. But it’s still misery.

Joy is:

After almost 3 hours you see the blue lights of the trees in your own back yard.

And your husband has plowed the driveway.

And it’s stopped snowing.

And Katie is very happy to see you.

Misery is:

Knowing the roads won’t be any better tomorrow.

December 12, 2010
by dawnkinster 9 Comments

Can I help?

We put the tree up last night. Though I grew up with fresh cut trees and I miss the smell, I don’t miss the mess. Ours comes out of the basement in a big bag.

While husband and I were setting up the tree Katie thought she’d help. Silly dog.

Later in the evening we found her curled up in the bag taking a nap. It’s hard work to be a helper dog.

December 11, 2010
by dawnkinster 9 Comments

Are you ready?

Ready or not Christmas is coming! My husband and I were in a retail store the day before Halloween this year and were shocked to see it all decorated with Christmas trees and enormous ornaments. I meant to go back and get a picture, but I didn’t. Time just slips away. Now the big day is just a couple of weeks away. Are you ready? I’m not!

Today we put some lights up outside. I love to see houses all decked out in lights. I love to drive through neighborhoods after dark and look at all the colors. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy; sort of Norman Rockwell-ish. Here in Lower Michigan we’ve had lots of warm early winter days when we might have completed this task but our holiday lights didn’t venture up from their basement bins. Today, with a big snow storm headed our way we couldn’t put it off any longer.

Remember last year when I put everything away in their holiday bins? I was so proud of us, being so organized, everything in it’s red and green bin, labeled and ready for next year.

We packed all the lights and outdoor cords neatly away, so as to make this year so much easier. I don’t know what happened.

Somehow the Grinch must have gotten into those bins over the summer, because the lights and cords were a tangled mess this morning!

But after much work I got most of it sorted out. Katie helped.

And now I’m anxiously waiting for the evening to fall so that I can enjoy my very own holiday lights. This year we put some on the smaller trees in the backyard. Can’t wait to see what the neighborhood deer think about that!

Have a wonderful rest of your weekend everyone! Katie sends hugs.

December 10, 2010
by dawnkinster 8 Comments

Are you missing Katie?

Somehow Katie hasn’t wormed her way into the last few posts. And she’s not very happy about being ignored. She has special things she can do if we ignore her too long…specially messy and/or loud things…so we don’t want to do that.

So with no further ado…..here’s Katie!

Have a good weekend everyone! We’ll be getting snow, maybe a lot of snow…so I’m sure we’ll have fresh photos for all of you soon!

December 8, 2010
by dawnkinster 11 Comments

Make your bed!

I can’t talk a lot about my work, though there are many many stories to tell. Amusing stories, amazing stories, unbelievable stories. But privacy rules insist that I keep them to myself. My job is to look deeply into people’s lives; into their employment, assets, credit histories and collateral. And after checking everything out, I decide whether or not to let them borrower money. Sometimes a lot of money.

One of the more fun things about my work is that I get to look at a lot of houses. I love looking at houses. I’d be a Realtor if it weren’t for having to work with people. And all those weekend hours. But these days in my job I get to look at home appraisals from all over the country. And the really cool thing is that since all the craziness of the mortgage boom busted and rules have tightened the appraisers have to provide interior photos!

Back in the old days – pre graduate school – appraisals didn’t have interior photos, and I’d see pictures of houses I’d like, and wish I could see what they were like inside. Well, now all appraisals have interior photos! And guess what? People are clutter crazy! And many of them don’t make their beds! This doesn’t effect the value of their home, but it does make me smile. I don’t think people realize the appraiser has to take pictures inside now.

Cause if they did maybe they’d at least put the toilet seat down.

December 7, 2010
by dawnkinster 11 Comments

Getting her affairs in order

Yesterday when I heard that Elizabeth Edwards had only “weeks” to live I was reminded of a friend of mine. Sallie and I had been friends since junior high; played in the band together since 6th grade, designed the “senior show” together for the high school marching band our senior year. When as a kid I got my drivers license the very first place I drove alone was to Sallie’s house a couple miles down a empty country road. We went to college together and were roommates our senior year. She went on to be an executive with a big accounting firm in Denver. I became a bank manager in Michigan. We stayed in touch and she surprised me at my wedding by flying in with her husband unannounced to attend.

Shortly after my wedding she was diagnosed with leukemia. A rare childhood version of leukemia. She fought it valiantly, and none of us thought it would kill her. If anyone could beat this illness, Sallie could. We never doubted that. She went into remission. Then came out. She went to Seattle and had a bone marrow transplant and went back into remission. Then it struck again and she went to Houston for treatment. My husband and I went down for a week to take care of her while her husband went back to Denver to check on the dogs and their mail.

Back in remission she was sent home and was well for a few months but then it was back. The doctors told her, like Mrs. Edwards, that more treatment would not be beneficial. That she should get her affairs in order. She called me that night from Denver. “This is the call you didn’t want to hear,” she said. I sank to the floor as she told me the news. “They told me I have a couple of months.” I couldn’t breath, couldn’t speak. I told her I needed to get my head around this news, and that I’d call her the next day.

Her husband called me later that evening and told me it wasn’t likely to be a couple months, more likely a week or so. I spent that night writing Sallie a letter, telling her how much I loved her, how much we all gained by knowing her, having her in our lives. I went to work late the next morning so that I could go to the post office and overnight the letter to her.

Sallie died while I was standing in line.

So when I heard the news yesterday that Elizabeth Edwards had a couple of weeks, that treatment wouldn’t be productive I knew. Sadly I knew that it wouldn’t be a couple weeks, it wouldn’t likely be a couple of days. This morning as I drove to work I thought of her. On my drive home I heard that she had died today.

Perhaps when the end is near terminally ill people – those safe in the knowledge they are loved – can relax and just let go. They’ve already done everything they need to do, said all they need to say. I want to believe they peacefully move to the next space.

Sallie was valedictorian of my high school class, brilliant at accounting, , a talented musician, athletically inclined. She was generally first to do anything and always did it well. Over these many years since she died I have often thought that she was just doing her job by being the first of all of us to move on to the next adventure. I know she’s waiting for the rest of us to join her someday.

I hope Mrs. Edwards is beginning a new adventure as well, and that those she left behind can take some comfort from knowing that she knew she was loved. In the end that’s all that matters.

Some day I’ll tell you all about Sallie and my “Adventure in the North with the Wandering Tree Planters.” I have lots of Sallie stories. May the Edwards children hold their own stories close to their heart.

God speed Elizabeth.

December 4, 2010
by dawnkinster 9 Comments

Random thoughts

There are all sorts of thoughts bumping around in my work and holiday distracted brain. None of them are significant enough to write a blog entry of any substance. So here are some random thoughts I had this week.

While walking down the 4 flights of stairs at the end of a very long day of work: If I had my druthers I would be living on that island Kathy talked about over on her blog. And that walking up and down the stairs each day isn’t really about the exercise. It’s about avoiding conversation in the elevator. Yep. I’m a hermit.

While working in my cube: I overheard a woman across the aisle bitterly dissing her parents who were driving two days to visit her, but wouldn’t provide her a specific arrival time. She thought they were so thoughtless, that they didn’t care that she had to have things ready for them but didn’t even know when they would arrive. I bit my lip and didn’t tell her that I’d give a lot to have my parents driving cross country to visit me. And that it wouldn’t particularly matter exactly when they arrived. Just that they arrived safely. Silly woman. Someday she’ll know, like we all know eventually, what it’s like not to have any parents at all.

While driving to work early in the dark morning: Note to high speed driver in dark sedan who passed five of us traveling down the narrow,windy dirt road in the last 1/2 mile before the stop sign. What was so important that you had to be moving that fast? That caused you to pass each of us individually, whether we were on a hill or a curve? To risk your life, all of our lives and the lives of some innocent going the other way? And when we all got to the stop sign and you, at the front of the line, had to wait while a string of cars went by on the main road, all of us lined up behind you, did you recognize how little time you had made up? Tomorrow will you risk less?

This morning, while playing “where’s Mama” while attempting to distract Katie-dog from wanting me to get up and take her out in the dark early hours of a weekend: I flung the sheets up over my face and waited; still, hardly breathing, I waited in anticipation of Katie’s pounce. Except she didn’t pounce right away. Not even a little bit more than right away. I could hardly stand it. I was just going to move the sheet a little bit, check on what she was doing, when I realized I had less patience than an almost 4 year old Sheltie!

And finally, Katie’s thought for the week: Sometimes if you are very short you have to lick the condensation away from the front door in order to see out properly.

Have a great weekend everyone!

November 29, 2010
by dawnkinster 14 Comments

Something old, something new

It’s the end of an era. Last week we traded in my SUV. The poor SUV had a lot of miles on her. And the repair bills were mounting exponentially.

Still, this was the car I loved to drive, the car Katie and I used to explore parks and country lanes. The car that took me home to the South and north to the peace of the forest and lakes.

Katie and I took it for a last run to the park. We had already taken her crate out of the back so she got to sit up front with me.

Hey! Wait a minute Mom, aren’t I supposed to be back there?

She gets so excited when I pack up her stuff for a trip to the park, she runs to the back of the car and stands on her hind legs waiting to be lifted in.