SAYING GOODBYE WILL NOT BE EASY

December 12, 2006
Garrison and Me

Garrison Keillor is retiring.  I am sad.  I knew it was coming.  When I saw him live at Avery Fisher Hall he announced to the audience that at age 72 (at the time) he was putting a date on his retirement.  The audience groaned in unison.  But the time is coming this summer and all I can think is what will I do on my Saturday nights!!! 

Sitting with a glass of wine on the deck, or driving home from babysitting the grandkids, you would find me in that land of Lake Wobegon, Minnesota listening to the live radio show, singing songs, sometimes shedding tears, but always….always having a good laugh.  

I have had the pleasure of seeing his radio show, Prairie Home Companion, on four different occasions during my lifetime.  Each one unique but enjoyable beyond description.  When my daughter worked for the New York Philharmonic, her position always got me a trip backstage into the green room so I could shake his hand and tell him what a joy he has been in my life.  This humble man was never full of himself and I always felt he was embarrassed by the praise, whether it came from me or the ones who came before me, he was always thankful for your kind words.  The first time I met him I said to him,  “I spend more time with you on a Saturday night than I do my own husband.”  He laughed.

My daughter arranged for a picture to be taken of the two of us at my first ever meeting with him.  My nervousness got the best of me as I went up to his side and put my arm around his waist.  Not realizing that I was  grabbing the fat roll around his waist, I suddenly got red in the face as he leaned into me and said, “You get real friendly!”  Stumbling over my words and laughing like a giddy school girl, it was a moment I will never forget.  He was a kind gentle giant who I feel honored to have met (and squeezed).  

During the last performance, I saw at Avery Fisher Hall, sitting in the VIP box, overlooking the audience and the stage, laughing so hard at his stories, I kept trying to keep in check my exuberance.  When intermission came, a staff member came up to me and said, “Mrs. Ford, the staff is worried that you are not having a good time at the show!”  I laughed and then worried I was being too loud.

“I’m sorry, was I laughing too loud?” I asked.

“Oh know,” he said.  “We enjoy hearing your glee!”

Another part of aging is learning to say goodbye to those things you have loved and enjoy.  This will not be an easy goodbye for me.  Oh, how I will miss those wonderful words,  "Well, that's the news from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average."

THE ICE MAN MAY COMETH…

I’ve been away to the mountains of Pennsylvania, helping a friend recover from a bad spill and the following surgery.  With her son coming in today to take over her care for a bit, I am hoping after picking him up from the airport, to come home. 

Coming off the mountain though will have some challenges if the weather prediction holds up.  We are to have some brief snow showers.  Not a great accumulation but enough to create icy conditions on the roads.

Funny how time, experience and location can change one’s perspective.  I grew up in Northern Illinois where snow was just a hiccup in the days plans.  Nothing was ever cancelled unless you couldn’t see the hand in front of your face during the storm.  Slip the snow chains on over your winter tires and you were good to go.  I don’t ever remember school being closed for snow events.  But I do remember some fun rides with our school bus driver as he made some interesting turns on our lakeside roads!

When I got my driver license, my dad said to me, “Come on girl.  You and I are going driving.”

We got in the car and he directed me to drive out onto the frozen lake.  That was not so unusual around us as our lakes would freeze over and we often saw vehicles drive out onto the ice, pulling their ice houses for a winter of ice fishing.  

So off we went, onto the lake.  “Now step on the gas,” my dad said.  “No faster,” he continued.

So I did.  Suddenly he reaches over with his foot and slams on the breaks forcing our car into a tailspin.

“Turn into the spin!” he yelled.  “Turn into the spin!”

We must have done that five or six times before I could catch my breath and we stopped.  “Now,”  he said, “you will be able to drive anywhere anytime because you will instinctively turn into the spin, stopping the spin.”  

In all the years of my driving, I never used that technique but once…a patch of black ice in the wee hours of the morning as we headed down to North Carolina for a family visit.  Thank you for the experience, but I hope to never have to test my skills again.

So here I sit, looking out the window onto the gray skies hoping against hope, that the flurries won’t bring the icy conditions forcing me to cancel my trip home.

As a friend reminded me in a message sent this morning, “Don’t take any chances with the weather.  Home is not going anywhere.”

So I’ll plan with flexibility in mind…

THE BUMPY ROAD OF AGING

Aging can be a bumpy road.  As I watch and help my friend through her latest crisis…the first one she finds herself alone in after losing her husband, we share a lot about this time of life.  I have mentioned in the past that I think the first one to die in a relationship is the lucky one.  To be surrounded by your life partner, family or friends is a wonderful thing.

But when that partner is gone, there is a dynamic shift in one’s life.  Children are no guarantee that someone will be with you in the hour of your greatest need.  Especially in the society we live in.  

But as I hover here and watch my friend, I recognize another lesson in life.  Be flexible.  Keep up your humor.  And find gratitude in those that do step up and give you assistance.  

Living in the community in which I do, I see those that are cranky beyond description, and it makes it hard to help someone like that.  No matter what is done for them, it is not enough.  Or they complain that this or that is not satisfactory.  Eventually, anyone who steps up to help drifts away, frustrated because no matter what is given it is never enough.

Then there are others, like my neighbor and friend, whose gratitude sweeps you up and without burdening just one, each friend carries a small load, so it does not feel like a load at all to those who help.  Both have a great sense of humor and can laugh at themselves while doing their best to push ahead with their own situation filled with acceptance and gratitude.  

I once said to my daughter-in-law Kelly, “When I get old, if I become cranky, unreasonable, and hard to deal with, you can put me in a room and lock the door!”  Without missing a beat, she responded, “Would you please put that in writing!”  So I did.

“Dear future Marlene,

If you are reading this letter, it is because one of your children have approached you and said it is time to give up driving, or move in with someone, or go to a place where you can be watched…and you are probably saying no not yet…well, it is time to put your big girl panties on, put a smile on your face and be grateful that they care enough to look out for your wellbeing.  So do as your are told, please.

Love,

Past Marlene

PS:  Just in case you doubt this suggestion just remember the problems you encountered with your cranky friend.”

I mentioned this note to my son and his family while at dinner with them one night…when a phone call came in.  I took it and then immediately forgot about it.  A while later, Damian asked, “Who was it that called Mom?”  

“Called?  I don’t remember anyone calling”

“Mom,” he said with a shock, "you just got a call 20 minutes ago.”

I had to stop and think, and couldn’t remember the call.  Then suddenly it came to me…”Oh, that call!” I said laughing.

My granddaughter Honor turned to me and said, “Gram, do we have to get that letter out already?”

Yes, aging can be a bumpy ride, but we can still laugh our way down the road!

EXPERIENCING TWO KINDS OF FOG!

A few days ago, as I sat quietly and alone in my home, after getting one notice after another about this friend or that in a predicament…being asked to help here and then there, only to get “here” canceled, and end up there…it almost became confusing.  It felt like there was a tornado outside my door.  I was just glad it was not me needing help but instead able to give it.

So that takes me to this place… sitting on the mountain top in Paupack, looking down and out over the mountain and Lake Wallenpaupack in the distance, watching the fog envelop the lake that I can’t help but acknowledge that life can be both beautiful and a challenge at the same time.  

This is what aging is about.  Oh I know, as our bodies give up on us, we work to keep our sense of humor and laugh at what time and gravity has bestowed upon us, but we also have the time to sit and enjoy the moments that when we were young we were too busy and exhausted to enjoy.  We have to remind the young people in our life how important it is to stop and smell the roses, as they say.  Funny how many times I have heard those words and yet this morning in the middle of the dance of the fog, I get the importance of it all.  

To be reminded of this at a time when our bodies are being tested and our strengths begin to fade is important.  As I walk with my friend through her immediate challenge, I recognize in my own self the changes that come with aging.

The other day, while meeting someone for the first time, I found myself in conversation, wanting to make a point, but first describing the scene, only to forget the point I wanted to make in the first place.  Like a brain fart…all you can do is acknowledge the moment, laugh and move on.

They are beginning to show up now and then and all I can do is laugh at it.  Like the time I had a doctor appointment, but ended up at the wrong doctors office.  

After a day of taking Audrey to a doctor appointment (that lasted 4 hours…that is another story) followed by a hospital visit, we headed out to the car, got in and strapped her up in the front seat, put my purse in the back seat then saw the white gloves on the back seat  and thought, “these are not mine.”  In fact, the car was not mine.  I had just placed my friend in a car that did not belong to me.  Laughing to the point of almost peeing my pants, I backtracked my steps and laughing said, “God I hope there is not murder in the future of this car because our fingerprints will be all over it!” We laughed a number of times thinking of the scenarios of what could have happened if the owner had come out to their car while she was strapped in and ready to go!  

Then we remembered a mutual friend we knew who shared the story about a time when they left  a show they just attended and walking to their car, could not find the keys to their car.  Thinking that they left a spare set in the glove compartment, and wanting to move on and out as quick as possible, they decided to break the back window, get in, grab the keys and take off, ready and willing to repair the window later.  Grabbing a rock, they broke the back window, everyone got into the car, but when searching the glove compartment for the spare keys, realized this was not their car.  

Yes, this can happen to people of all ages.  Especially in the world we live in today where it is hard to tell one car from another, but when you enter the “aged” it feels more like a jolt than a funny mistake.  Memories that fade, frustrate.  Appointments missed can cost.  You may laugh out loud and try and blow it off, but it gives you food for thought and makes you rethink your organization skills.

So until the next time, I’ll sit here, watch the morning fog circle the lake down below and enjoy the show that nature is giving me this morning.  

TODAY I AM A WHINER

Today I am a whiner!  This is a tough week.  So many happy/sad memories wrapped up with it.  The joy of the beginning, the sadness of the starting of the end.  I am trying hard to stay busy, and do things that are fun and full of life, yet I find while in the middle of it all, being surrounded by people I still feel isolated and alone.  I hate this.  I hate the way I am feeling.  I have so much to be thankful for, but feeling it today is hard.

I found myself wishing that it had been me to be the first to go.  How lucky was Pat to be the first one to die.  He was surrounded by my love, advocacy and family.  To be the survivor, I find that I wonder what my place is in life.  Where do I belong?  How much am I really loved?  I don’t want to be a whiner, but I am today.  I thought time and distance from the moment of departure would make life be easier to get through.  But not this week.  Not this day.  Not this time.

I'll keep moving.  Keep pushing on.  And just like any memory, once this time passes and the heightened memory subsides, life will push on until the next time.  

I hope.

I HATE VERIZON!

There is one word that I try hard to never use in my vocabulary.  That word is “HATE”.   I’ll walk away from something or someone before I get to that point.  I believe that I am a person who carries a great deal of empathy for those that are not like me, or travel to a different drummer.  But when it comes to Verizon, they have made me cross that line.  I HATE Verizon.  Let me share my story.

Eleven years ago, when we moved to our present home, we paid Verizon over $300.00 to install some extra phone lines into the house.  Our computers needed them.  Our television needed them.  And with Pat’s illness, I needed access to a phone in multiple rooms.  Over time, the phone line began to act up.  Every time a Verizon technician showed up, they one by one dismantled all the phone lines that we paid to install, saying that the lines were soaking up moisture and that was what was causing the static in the line.  By the end of that particular journey, we ended up with just one working phone line and a new satellite phone system.  

In the mean time, when the internet line was affected, that too became dismantled and instead of replacing the line under the house, Verizon technicians ran a line outside, laying it on the ground next to the house, drilled a hole in the back wall and ran it through the wall.  Now I questioned this and was upset that they treated my home like trailer trash, but to no avail.  Only after I got crazy with them on the phone, did they come and hook the line every couple of feet onto the side of the house, getting it off the ground.  I know you are asking, but laying outside in all the weather….this too wouldn’t absorb the moisture?  Yea, I asked that too with no answer.

Eight years later into this saga, my husband died.  So began the attempt at getting the account turned over to my name.  Sweet talking voices on the other line, said sure, we can do that, but bill after bill would continue to come in with my husband’s name.  So recently, after my frustration level with the DSL of Verizon, I decided to end all my services with Verizon except for my wireless which I have six months before I can change that service.  This decision ended my “One Bill” program where my wireless, my home phone, my internet and my Direct TV were billed in one bill.  

The morning brought an email that said, my account was ending and that I would have a credit of $68.95.  The same day, the mail came with a bill, showing I owed $99.99, indicating my wireless bill of $60 and an internet service of $39.99.  So I called to clear up the matter and undo the confusion of having a credit, now owning $99 and making sure the internet service was taken off as that was one of the services I canceled, and yet making sure I paid for the wireless part that I was keeping.  (You confused yet?)  While trying to get through to a voice, I get the message that my account is closed and that I owe $0 on a bill.  Now all this is happening in the same day!!!  Is it a credit?  Is it $99.99?  Or is it $0?  At this point, your guess is as good as mine

After waiting 40 minutes online for a real human to speak with, I ask them to look into the question of the internet service and making sure I do pay for my wireless…and oh yes can’t the credit be applied?  And by the way, can I now get my name on the account?  Oh sure, said the voice on the other end.  So after waiting, and waiting, I was told all was taken care of, no internet, only wireless, and finally an account in my name.  I hung up the phone expecting to receive a confirmation of the $60.00 I owed for my wireless.

Soon I get an email, confirming all the changes and showing me that I now owe $83.59 for my wireless.  $83.59???????  What happened to the $60?  So once again I get back on the phone, another long wait, I finally get a voice and I ask why am I paying almost $25 more for what I was paying $60.00 for?  By this time, I am not being nice.  I told them “I will not pay any more than the $60.00 that I….yes I…signed up for.  So fix it!”  Well, some song and dance about the account change the closest they could get me was the $60, plus some taxes making it almost $70.00 a month.  Tired, and frustrated by this point I gave in.  I was told the credit check would arrive separately.

You know the old saying “To ASSUME makes an ASS out of U and ME?  Well, I assumed the check would come in my name…I mean after all we talked about Pat being dead. I could not be more wrong.  A few days later, the check arrived, in my dead husband’s name.  Now he is gone going on 4 years now, so there is no way to cash this check.  

Once again, I call.  I wait.  When getting a voice, I say, "I need to speak to your supervisor as they will be the only one who can help." (I am hoping.)  They refuse to pass me through until he has a chance to help me.  I proceed to tell him the long tale.  He asks me, “Have you not tried to put the account in your name before this?”  

To say I lost it on the guy is an understatement.  I am not proud of how crazy I got.  I am pissed that Verizon and their poor customer service took me to this point, but after some screaming and yelling and demanding and scolding, and yelling some more, the man finally, after another 30-minute wait, put on a supervisor.  

Once again, I went through, with teeth gritting, the whole story from the beginning of my frustrations to the moment I was on the phone with this supervisor and how now I am just asking that the check is rewritten in my name.  Once again, I was asked, “Had you not tried to put the account in your name before this?”

Yelling firmly but loudly, “I DID TRY AT LEAST ONCE EVERY MONTH FOR THE FIRST SIX MONTHS AFTER PAT DIED, THEN A COUPLE OF TIMES AFTER THAT, ONLY TO GIVE UP UNTIL THIS MOMENT WHEN I DECIDED I DID NOT WANT THE SERVICES ANY LONGER EXCEPT FOR THE WIRELESS.  CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT ELSE I COULD HAVE DONE?  I OFFERED UP A DEATH CERTIFICATE!  I WAS TOLD  IT WAS NOT NECESSARY.  I TRIED AGAIN AND AGAIN.  CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT IT IS THAT I COULD HAVE DONE AND DIDN’T IN ORDER TO MAKE THIS HAPPEN?"

It was quiet on the other end of the line for a couple of minutes.  I gathered my breath and waited.  I finally said to her, “You know the stupid part of this whole thing, is that if I did nothing, eventually the check would show up in unclaimed property of Pennsylvania and I would only need to send a death certificate and fill out a form and the check would be released to me.  Can’t we do this now so I can get back MY money?”

Finally, she says, "yes, send me a death certificate and the check."  “Oh no”, I said.  “I’ll send you the death certificate, a copy of the check and a copy of my crazy bill, and you can rewrite the check, or credit my new account….I don’t care.  I will send the original check made out to my husband once I get the replacement in my name.  If I send this check to you I will have no record of it.  You are not getting it until I get what I want!” 

She agreed.  So here I sit, waiting for the mail to come with the reissued check.  I am not holding my breath.

I find myself asking, “What ever happened to real customer service, where you are made to feel important, and listened to?"  These big companies have lost their way.  I get the bottom line in life.  But the cost to us as customers leaves us wanting.  It is why I tend to shop as local as I can, where good customer service means a happy customer and repeat business.  

Oh, remember good ole Bell Telephone?  Now those were the good ole days!!!!

IT IS THE SEASON OF HOLIDAYS!

Grandson Leighton at the Dog Train Party!

 I am going to just put it out there.  I am a kid during this time of year!  From the time, the first leaves start displaying their brilliant colors through the first snow fall my adrenaline flows fast and free!

Life, and I mean my adult life…started for me October 7, 1966.  Driving cross country through the mountains with the brilliant glow of the reds, yellows and golds of the trees welcoming me to Pennsylvania, I entered into a family that was grounded in unconditional love and I could feel the change and I embraced it’s every core!  

A holiday has never been just the day for me.  There is such joy in the planning, the preparation and the day….well the day for me is sitting back and watching all those I love and care for enjoy themselves.  

Halloween presents itself with a chance for me to dress up with the kids and go trick-or-treating.  As they got older and didn’t hang with “M-O-M”, I would dress up anyway and greet the kids at the door.  One year I dressed in an old black witches outfit, with a big hat.  I sat on our porch with a large bowl of goodies, head down and still, and when I would see their feet I would pop my head up with a scary “Happy Halloween”.  Those who came to my door grew to know that Mrs. Ford would be doing something silly.  

The pumpkins and fall decorations would hang around through Thanksgiving.  Joined by the pilgrims and the great planning for our Thanksgiving meal.  The Ford family gathered either at Grammy Ford’s or my house.  We are a foodie family which always creates such great excitement amongst us.  The joy for me as I watched the Ford family gather was how, no matter how much time had passed between visits with one another, there was always such a great presence of celebration (and without the drunk fighting).  The tradition carries on today at my son and daughter-in-law’s home.  

Christmas….ah Christmas.  I feel sorry for those who put all their effort into just THE day.  For me, from the moment Thanksgiving is done until I am forced to take the holiday decorations down, it is Christmas.  When my kids were young we would do the advent wreath.  It was such a joy to stop the day's hectic schedule, light a candle, pray and read a Christmas story to them.  Letting each one take a turn to open the advent calendar door or window.  One year to add the spirit of love and the spirit of giving to the lesson I began the tradition of a “secret Santa”.  They had to draw each other’s name, keep it a secret and at least once a week do something nice for that person and not tell them.  It was only at the end that they were allowed to share who they were.  

Along with the normal prep for the holiday I would have the kids make things to give as presents, instead of buy them.  One year we created a calendar and they had to pick a date at least once a month and write a promise to that person.  During the year, we had to keep track and fulfill that promise.  It could be a car wash, a visit to the grandma’s, or bring a dinner to them.  Grammy Ford told me once this was her favorite!  

Our neighborhood after a storm!

One year I drew a picture of Grammy Ford’s house and we had notecards made up.  The kids helped me find the right little basket, and we wrapped them and put ribbons around them.  I can still remember how excited they were. 

There was always the homemade Christmas decorations for the tree.  I loved teaching them the lessons of giving.  

New Year celebrations would round out the season.  They were always fun, yet not rowdy or crazy.  A small gathering of friends, or a dinner.  But a round-robin of phone calls to the family not there always came at midnight.  

When the older generation passed, it took a couple of years for new traditions to take hold.  In my life since losing Pat, I take great comfort in the fact that I know what we are doing for these family gatherings.  Life is so busy the rest of the year, and there can be many lonely moments, but not the holidays.  It is a time for us to come together and celebrate each other, catch up, and be reminded of what is truly important to our life, and that is the love we hold for each other.