Author: Susie

August 4. What’s today’s date?… I’m accustomed to checking the calendar. Woops. All the calendars have been taken down along with everything else on the walls! All nails removed and just holes left! Take a look at your walls and try to decide what it will be like with everything off and just paint. For one thing… noises echo! And paintings! Whoever decided they should be so big? I wrapped and boxed the little stuff, but now I’m dealing with the big pictures. My brothers are going to be balancing some big open boxes with delicate glass covered beauties. I do have a solution though. Rather than try to bag the blankets; I’ll wrap the paintings in blankets. All cozy and warm in August heat, Mom’s beauties will get to the new apartment for my brother to hang them back on the new walls. Yesterday was tough. Mom has assumed Jack’s desk to do all her bills and paperwork, but the desk and file cabinet are "going out." So I sat at the rejected desk and began to open drawers. We did a lot of "what’s this?" and "I don’t knows." Index cards, rubber bands, paper clips, discarded glasses. "What did you do with the glasses from the filing cabinet?" Mom asked. I stared at the filing cabinet, emptied a week ago… "I don’t know?" my stock answer. "Well you have to find those old glasses, I give them to the church." Visions of plowing through the garbage shute dance in my head and I duck my head and continue to separate pens that work from pens that don’t work… Mom found me laughing in the kitchen last night. I was looking for the big lid for the frying pan!

July 31. You know the old saying…. "You’re d…mned if you do and you’re d..mned if you don’t!" If I don’t pack it…. I will not have done my duty…. If I do pack it… we’ll need it. Every day we make decisions… Will you need this before September 10? or ever? … Well I packed boxes of gift wrap and we have had a slew of birthdays and now a wedding…. and of course I packed the "good clothes" because "who’s going any where anyway?" and … we have had 3 birthdays and now a wedding invitation. Since Mom will be "the Grandmama" (I put the accent on the last ma) we have to go shopping for a proper wedding outfit! At least we have shoes and a bag still unpacked. The bag was hidden under the luxurious nightgowns in the second drawer of the dresser that I haven’t gotten to yet… This is hysterical! We are giving the bride and groom Grandpa’s fine china turkey platter and 8 of grandpa’s wine glasses. I found something else antique in the curio cabinet to put into the mix. Now all I need is wedding gift wrap which is in a box only two from the top near the ceiling…. Today started out at a leisurly pace and then we started on the closet… Mom kept escaping and finally she lay down on the bed… She said "I hate going through Jack’s things…" and I realized we’re packing Jack’s things to go to the Paralyzed Vets… because Jack will never wear them again. We kept out one last suit for the "final ceremony." Wow! that Mom lasted through that is a testimony to her strength. We moved quickly to shoes and crafts things and she then started getting energy again so we attacked the kitchen! Everyone of us should go to the kitchen and take stock!!!! How many pots have we thrown away but kept the lids for some reason? I threw away 15 lids that had no pots!!! We found 3 sets of mixer bowls and 2 extra coffee pots! We actually found some stuff that mom said… "I don’t know what this is." Of course my duty is to say, "If you don’t know what it is, it’s time to pitch it." And now I have the final duty of packing the glasses and china. That is my least favorite task because it takes such care and I am a broad stroke kind of girl!

July 29. Beware of questions like "Where’s my bread basket?" I stop and cock my head and think… pursing my lips… and I ask, "Does it move?" This is from a joke of Chuck’s whenever I’m about to set out on house beautification…. "If it doesn’t move, paint it, and if it moves, kiss it and then paint it." Mom says, "Whaaaaatttt? does it move? it’s a bread basket !!" I answer with finality, "Well Mom, if it doesn’t move; it gets packed." … So the packing continues. We now have no bread basket that we can find. Two little girls had a birthday last week and Mom went looking for some coloring books she had purchased. "I want to wrap those coloring books," she murmured… "Wrap?" I demured, "The gift wrap is packed. There is Christmas gift wrap in that box and occasional gift wrap in that box and I think the coloring books are in there…." I point to boxes in a tall pile of boxes poised periously close to the ceiling in the guest room. No guest is going to sleep in the guest bed as it is covered with video tapes, ice buckets, blankets, pillows, and boxes at this time. We’re taking the day off today as Mom’s blood pressure peaked when I made her go through her nursing books and papers. We deep-sixed notes and grading reports from classes she taught in the early ’80s and she almost wept. I emptied a 4 drawer filing cabinet down to one drawer. We all have file drawers full of string and old phone cords don’t we? Tomorrow we hit the Corning Ware cabinet in the kitchen.

July 24. Abe Lincoln is in the box. Remember I said to beware the back of the closet? Well I found 2 Abe Lincoln imitation brass book ends back there and I put them out on the dining room table dutifully asking should I toss them and got a yes along with yes on a somewhat shabby used shower curtain liner, 15 empty spaghetti sauce jars, and a tarnished silver chip and dip set. Meanwhile I hauled out all the food containers I found and dumped them in the pile too… You’ve all done the litany on the food containers: "Container, no lid – toss." "Lid – no container – toss." "Container with matching lid… if gooey and stinky – toss. Otherwise hold for decision." Well the table was so cluttered that when I wisked away the tarnished chip and dip set, the 15 empty spaghetti sauce jars and the shower curtain liner… I missed Abe Lincoln.

Mom’s eagle eye spotted the Abe Lincoln book ends in the clutter of morning newspaper and cereal bowls… "Oh! The book ends! Better pack them. Jack loves those." My head aches from the whip lash. "Abe Lincoln book ends? I tossed those… OOPS." When my brothers go to move Mom they are going to wonder how come I packed so much stuff. Well…. You gotta move fast when Mom says, "toss’ em," because she’s going to change her mind! So… Abe Linclon is in the box. And whoever unpacks him, be generous… I tried. Oh how I tried!

July 23. Beware of the back of the closet…. This morning while Mom still slept I opened the linen closet and started on “the ground floor.” In my opinion… boxes at the back of the closet that have dust on them are to go into the “rummage sale/toss” pile. Except for treasured photos and letters. They get kept and moved… “for later.” I soon filled the hallway with items of interest – some I couldn’t identify what they are. I had started on a little storage cabinet in the kitchen when I heard a gasp from the hallway! “Oh my! oh dear! what is this junk???!!!! Ohhhhhh I have a lot of junk!” Mom exclaimed and sank into a chair and wimpered… “What are we going to do with all this stuff?” “Good Morning! Mom!” I cheerily countered as I rushed at her with a cup of coffee! “It’s not junk, it’s just stuff you don’t use any more!” (“Do we need artificial respiration here?” I secretly wondered!!!!) Mom said, “I need my pills.” Mom always takes her pills first thing in the morning before she drinks her coffee. No problem! As she doled out the tiny pink, yellow and purple life-savers, Mom said, “It’s over whelming… what am I gong to do with all this stuff?” “You are going to read the paper and we will make decisions later,” I murmured. So continues the saga of “Moving Mom…” How do you pack a lifetime into boxes? I think it is a gift to be able to do this, but to some it might be something else…

July 22. The word serenity came to my mind two nights ago as I listened to mom breathe quietly while she slept. I watch her with my step-dad Jack. She is quiet and at peace. That is what serenity is. She is doing her duty and actually fulfilling the role she accepted when she said "yes" to be his wife over 25 years ago. She dresses up every day, wearing earings and Shalimar to visit him. She bends her head towards him and she smiles. She gives him her full attention. She is quiet and accepting. She is waiting, but not giving up. I know I can learn from this very strong little woman!

Little sounds issue from Mom’s mouth as she goes through a pile of books and papers I place before her. She murmurs a name. She stops to read cards. This is an interesting lesson for all of us. How much do we "store in a safe place," but never look at? What will strangers do with this "stuff" if we suddenly pass on? Mom reads and smiles and sticks the perused item in a pile… take to the new apartment, give to the rummage sale, toss. Each item was valuable once and some items are just out of time now. We puzzle over pictures… "Who’s that?" there’s nothing written on the back of a faded Christmas picture. "God bless ’em, toss it."

July 20: Mom is finally moving out of her apartment on the East side of Cleveland. This is after living alone for over 1 1/2 years while dad is in a nursing home. My mission, and I accepted it gladly, was to pack Mom, hence the name of the mission! Brother Tom has stacked up about 100 sturdy boxes in Mom’s guest room so I promised Mom we’ll go through shelf by shelf, drawer by drawer and get everything into boxes before I leave. We touch everything. I fold and Mom looks through and I see her refolding…. Things must be washed before packing… Damp clothes fill the apartment… There are piles with labels…"winter clothes," "summer clothes," "Salvation Army," "garage sale," etc etc. I label every box carefully so nothing will be lost. Today was hot and then it rained like a son of a gun with hail! I managed to get the first load of clothes to the Salvation Army before being pelted with Cleveland’s finest! Hail and rain. I really love Cleveland! Packing Mom’s things is a delicate and decidedly chancy unmarked mine field. Whatever is missing will be my fault! If Mom gets nervous… I feel guilty! So I move through this mission gently, quietly, slowly in a an orderly and stealthy fashion! Anyone who knows me is thinking Susie can’t do this! Orderly? quietly? without screaming??? our Susie? Yep! I will emerge on the other side of this a new woman! Tomorrow… the closet shelf!!!! Love Susie!

We have at least two manatees who frequent our lake and the neighbors tell stories of spotting the manatees. One friend says she was lounging in the back of a boat lazily dangling a fishing line in the water and watching her husband cast his line when when she “felt” the presence of a third person at her back. “Blffffft” it made a noise and got her all wet! She leaped to the front of the boat and saw a mountain of flesh rolling behind the boat. I, meanwhile, had never seen the mountain of flesh that people describe rolling around in our waters. I didn’t doubt the presence of manatees, I just never saw them until one day I was sitting outside meditating on ducks and fish and clouds and I heard the neighbors yelling and laughing and I heard a big splash. “Manatees!” I shouted and sat up to take notice. Nothing…. I watched circles of water and eddies for about fifteen minutes and finally there it was, a black spot emerged from the water and a giant stream of water accompanied by a loud “Blfffffft” noise and I knew a manatee had blown me a kiss! I alerted the neighbors on the other side to come out and watch. We all hung on the fence and watched rolling masses that looked like swimming elephants. The neighbors were entertaining a small boy (he does not call it “babysitting” as he’s too grown up for that) and he kept saying, “where? I can’t see them! oh I missed them!” Finally as the manatees swam away to another part of the lake, I assured Tommy as others have assured me, “They’ll be back and you will see them one day. I promise.”

How could I make this promise that Tommy will one day see the manatees? Jesus often talked about curing the blind and he said some harsh words to the Pharisees and Saducees (the ruling class of Jewish priests) about being blind when really they should have been able to see him for what he is. Jesus said, “Woe to those who can see, but don’t see, and those who are blind will see.” Sometimes I wonder what Jesus meant by saying those who cannot see will see and those who can see are blind. The Jewish priests whom Jesus accused of being blind didn’t want to see what Jesus is, the Messiah, the Savior, the Son of God. The one who will die for us to redeem us from sin and death. And then come back to life as he promised. Their whole religious structure would be ruined with Jesus’ new teaching and his promise of eternal life. Many of their rules and regulations would be smashed by Jesus’ only rule, “believe in me and love one another.” The Jewish priests controlled the Jewish people with many rules and regulations. There were more restrictions on the faithful than there were loving promises despite the loving promises God made in the Old Testament. Jesus and God the Father both said, “I want mercy and love, not sacrifice.” The Pharisees and Saducees knew the Temple would lose a lot of money if there were no sacrificial offerings! Jesus promised us if we would try to see him and believe in him, one day we will see. Think of this “seeing” as “understanding.” If at this time we don’t understand a lot about Jesus and his miracles, teachings, and healings, just keep praying for “sight.” Suddenly one day, you will be sitting quietly, praying, looking at ducks and fish and clouds and Jesus will blow you a kiss and you will feel it on your cheek. Know that he is with you always, for that is what he promised, “I will be with you always until the end of time.” And know that one day you will see him. He promised.

This is a meditation based on The Way of the Cross… Peter, James, and John who walked with Jesus up the mountain of the Transfiguration must have wondered what Jesus meant when he said, “My soul is sad, even unto death…watch with me.” Read what Jesus might have been thinking on The Way of the Cross….

I’m sad about being alone when I go into the horror of pain and death. Much later, not now, not today, you will see me “sitting at the right hand of the power and coming with the clouds of heaven.” At the right hand of the Ancient of Days, the Holy One, the Holy Immortal One. But not now, not yet. Today I am called a blasphemer. I have no inheritance, no possessions, and no friends. They who hate me hand me over. Those who receive me hate me. I who was a strong tall sapling born out of parched earth am rejected today, avoided, held in no esteem. No one feels my need. I trip and in the dust, the blood, mud-like paste, sticks to my wounds as I struggle to stand, for I must go on though he tramples on my very spirit. Blood and mud, like the color of wine, stain my garment that clings to my legs, holding me down. There is no one who weeps for me. She first wrapped me in clean linens called swaddling. Warm and secure. Now my legs are bound and wrapped in this blood-red rag and I cannot move. But I feel the weight coming off my shoulders a little. Let me see who that is. A stranger lifts my pain a little. He doesn’t want to. He’s like I was last night. Not wanting to. Don’t be afraid, gentle stranger. Look at me. No! Look here, at me! Look at me! Even he would avoid me if he could. If only I could tell him whom he helps. But one day he will know. You who tred on my spirit, allowing this pain to afflict me. You! Listen to me! I look for you! I beseech you! I can’t see the path! Blood blurs my vision and I stumble again. I lie in the dust. I can’t breathe. My mouth tastes my blood. A cool dampness touches my fevered face. For a moment I am transported to a place beside a river where he promised he loved me. A woman wipes my face and touches my lips but I can’t speak. Thank you my friend. You don’t know me, but you risked death at the hands of these rabid dogs who pursue me and tear at me. You sacrificed your safety for me. Father, bless her. I must move on. I leave the cool comfort of that damp cloth. I leave one who helps me. A gift for you Veronica. A gift. Knowledge of who I am. I must move on. A sheep to be sacrificed for many. They wander, lost, without any guidance and I will go take their pain so they can be filled. Father, I am cut off and alone so that my friends may be healed. Heal them and send a guide so they no longer wander, poor, lost, and scattered sheep. Weeping, I move forward. Do you think I am weeping for myself as you weep for me? I do look a sorry sight don’t I? The lost and beaten Son of One who is gone away. But weep not for me as I do not weep for myself. “Weep for yourselves and for your children” who can’t see me or hear me. Or is it that they won’t? They do what they will, not what the Father wills. “My eyes run with tears.” Why has the Lord afflicted me with his blazing anger? Father forgive them for they cannot console me. They don’t know me. Give your word again, Father. Give life again. Give commands again. I lie in the dust so that they may have life. Father! I can’t bear this! I can’t see. I can’t speak. I can hear the roar of their jeers. They would devour me. I am weak and ravaged, yet you are my strength. It is in my weakness that I am strong for then I lean on you. They strip my clothes. The mud-dried garment sticking to my skin rips my skin off. Naked I came and you held me. Naked and alone I lie here while nails pierce my flesh. They steal my bloody clothes and turn their backs on me to play at dice. Then they raise me up. With a fearsome noise the beam they have nailed me to falls into a hole. The jolt of that setting in place shocks my every nerve. That wild animal scream; is that me? Reduced to this? A beaten, skinless beast, raw and screaming? Bind me, Father. Heal me, Lord. Let your waters pour out on me. Hatred and bitterness continue to beat at me. The hands that reached out to comfort the afflicted and rejected are smashed against a tree and nailed there. Father forgive them, for they know not what they do not know.

Father? Where are you? I was beloved. I was held against your chest. They have pierced me. But I ask you, Father to forgive them. Give them life. I know you are near for you have been at my side since the beginning. I accept your will. It isn’t easy Father. Sometimes your will is the hardest, most painful thing for me to do because I am selfish. Self-preservation is foremost in my mind. Die for them? Never would have crossed my mind. Like asking me to live with pigs — but you asked me to. You asked me to be love. And I am love because you asked me to be love. So I love them whether they act like animals or angels. They are your children Father, your creation and I love them as you asked me to. I accept crucifixion for them. Now Father, you show them the road through the cross to Resurrection. I will be life and you will help me to defy and to overcome the powers of death. In the silence I hear you Father and I move toward your chest again. Father! take my spirit into your hands and once again I put my head on your chest. Look Father. Some know me. They fall to their knees. The soldier knows. He will not let them hurt me any more although I’m already gone from them. The ones who know are sorry for having offended you, for answering you with the Cross. Look Father. They wrap my body in fine linen. Let us send forth our spirit to them. And then they too will experience the Resurrection. “With dawn comes rejoicing!” (Meditation based on “The Way of the Cross” 1965, Barton-Cotton, Inc, Baltimore, Md)