The Definition of the Best Mom in the World

Well, Day1 of the conference. I was supposed to go to a networking event from 6-8 tonight. But Mom and I had dinner at Shula's, and had 3-4 martinis each. So Mom wrote me the above excuse note.

Yes, the names have been removed to protect the lushes.

To Whom It May Concern,

Please excuse my daughter, *Moosh* from tonight's get together as she had a little bout of Bubonic Plague. This was aggravated by the alcohol we consumed at dinner. She will be fine for Tuesday night's event.

Thank you,

Sincerely,

Mrs. *Moosh* (Moosh's mother)

You gotta love the woman. Particularly after martinis.

We're on a Mission From God

It's 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and we're wearing sunglasses. Hit it.

Okay, that quote is a HELL of a lot funnier if you could actually see that we were in Blues Brothers hats after having a fantastic dinner, and a couple Swamp Waters a piece at the House of Blues in Downtown Disney this evening. And yes, it's a very crappy cell phone picture - but it's worth it for the joke.

Day 1 of relaxation is going well, tomorrow looks like Epcot and Aquatica. Hope to have many more bad pics. And yes, Dad made it safely through the airport. Hurdle number one complete.

I'm Going to DisneyI

Well, in 12 short hours I'm headed to the Magic Kingdom. Before you get all jealous... it's a working vacation. And I'm bringing Mom. I think we both need to head out of Dodge for a little while, and this is just fortuitous timing.

I'm headed to a conference, which will be 3-4 days of sheer madness. Straight work. The last conference I went to was a lot of fun, but there's a need to be "on" 24/7 - attending presentations, constantly logging in to work, networking, trying to get the most of out of it all, and make sure they don't regret sending me... but of course, the networking events usually have alcohol, and I have no filter, so I have to work really hard during the daytime events to make up for my behavior at the evening events. What can I say? It's a lot of pressure being me!

Anyway, we head down tomorrow afternoon, and have Sat night and all day Sunday to relax before the conference and tough work starts. The conference ends on Thursday, and Mom and I will be driving down to Key West. Sounds tough, right?

Well... then we do the really tough part. We say good bye to Dad. His will listed out all of his advanced medical directives, and on the back of it he hand wrote several instructions. He didn't want a wake. He wanted to be cremated. He wanted a memorial service that was full of music and a celebration of his life. And then he wanted his ashes scattered either in Rhode Island or Key West. The places he was happiest. Where he kayaked and had great memories with Mom. The places he was at peace and was able to just sit back and enjoy life.

When we get to Key West we'll be dispersing Dad's ashes. Saying a final good-bye, and making sure he's resting where he always wanted to be, in the warm waters of the Florida Keys. I'm eerily calm about the whole thing. I expected to be very anxious and fretting, but there's a certain comfort in knowing that we're following his wishes. Knowing he'd be happy that we figured out a way to get there.

It's been less than 7 weeks since he passed away. I miss him terribly. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him, wish I could hear his voice, miss just chatting in the aisle at work. I said good-bye to him in the hospital, but it was just words. I don't think I've let him go yet.

I remember a conversation with him last summer. We were chatting out on my parent's patio about all the crap that had gone on over the last few years, losing the babies, Gram's health, his surgery, and how all the different members of our family handled the stress so differently. I remember telling him that I couldn't ever regret having the babies. I couldn't keep getting myself worked up or upset by how sick he had been before the surgery, because I couldn't believe in the world as a dark, cruel place. I had to still believe in joy and beauty of the universe, and for those reasons, I was grateful I had BT and MP. I loved them. They left us too soon, but I was grateful for the precious moments I held them. I was grateful that Dad was so sick that we knew to take his condition seriously, and that the surgery had saved his life. It was the only way to still see the world that I wanted to be a part of.

I still want to believe in that world. If Dad were here now, I think he'd remind me to look at the way things have worked out - we have the opportunity to get to the beach, the warm weather, try to relax a little, and say a proper farewell. There is something good flowing through the universe. Even though our hearts are broken, there's beauty and wonder if you look for it.

Here's hoping there's a little beauty and wonder in it for everyone this week.

Kitty Hobo!

Yes, it's true. The Kitty Hobo has returned! I came home from work, put down my laptop bag in the rec room, and caught sight of something orange out of the corner of my eye. NOT inside my house. This is not one of my orange tabbies. This is the same guy that tried to break in to the house 2 nights ago. The pic is taken from inside my house, looking out the rec room slider. I can't help but wonder... is he casing the joint and just trying to look casual? And is it true that criminals always return to the scene of the crime?

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

I suppose I should write something deep and profound about grief, loss, and having your whole life put in perspective. But I've got nothing. My life is consumed by mundane tasks. Get up, go to work, talk to Mom, come home, make dinner, space out on the couch for a few hours, talk to Mom again, try to make conversation with S, go to bed. Rinse. Repeat. Over and over and over. Pretend everything is normal.

But it's not. Dad is gone. Mom is a mess. I'm not dealing with it at all. Something funny, annoying, trivial will happen at work, and I'll pick up the phone when I get home and call my parents house. And after the last ring and just before Mom says hello...

I remember. I can't share that joke with Dad. I can't tell him about my awful day. I can't talk shop with him. I'll never hear his voice again. Mom answers the phone, "hello?", and in that split second it all crashes around me. She will never be the same again. Her heart has broken in two. All of their hopes, dreams, and plans for the future have smashed in to pieces. My family will never be whole again. There is no man that loves me unconditionally, just for being me. The Kid. I'm alone. And so is she. I have to catch myself and not ask to talk to him. It happens almost daily. "Hi Mom, just checking to see how you're doing. Did you eat? Did you get any sleep? How was your day?".

I don't know how I'm doing. I am glad you keep asking. I think about my friends a lot. I love you guys. It's not you, it's me. I just don't know how to do anything but Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Kitty Hobo Signs???

My darling husband is away at a training class. The house is quiet. I came home tonight after another exhausting day at work to just relax and veg. I have the sniffles and a headache. I went to my Mom's on the way home to feed her ferrets, grabbed something quick to eat, took care of the dog, and sat down to surf the Net a little bit after opening up the sliders and windows to let some crisp fall air in to the house.

Mind you, it's getting dark earlier now, but I'm used to summer daylight, so I didn't turn on the lights in the rec room. The house is quiet, empty, and dark. I'm sitting upstairs when I hear this awful noise coming from the rec room.

It sounds like someone is trying to break in.

To the dark room with the windows and slider door open.

I very cautiously go down the stairs. With my oh-so-brave-dog cowering behind me. One of my cats is 3 feet away from the screen of the open slider door. Screeching. Hissing. Growling. I'm terrified. There is still a noise coming from the outside - something is trying to get in to the house through the screen.

The dog is smart enough to have stayed in the hallway, looking on with curiosity at whatever might happen to Mommy. The husband is in a hotel room in another state. I have to be brave and scare off whatever intruder is making it's way in. I go up to the slider...

And stare at a thin orange tabby trying to claw his way through the screen in to our house. NOT one of my two orange tabbies (note that I said it was a *thin* cat).

WTF??? Are there kitty hobo signs on my house? All I can think of is depression era cartoon cats carving fish symbols on our siding. "Good food and fat cats here".