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Her Final Wishes
2004-03-01 - 8:00 p.m.
First, in no particular order, I wish to thank (sounds like the Oscars, doesn�t it?): hissandtell, chaosdaily, poolagirl, sasori-gal, mom-on-roof, lauralgood, and boxx9000 for your kind words of support and strength. They truly DO mean a lot. I thank God each night for blessing me with such wonderful friends. I feel your warmth, and strength in your messages, and they mean the World to me. Bless you all my dear, sweet, wonderful D-land friends. It never ceases to amaze me that, even though we have never met face to face, have never shared a warm hug or friendly smile, you still seem to be able to look beyond my words and see into my heart. But then, I can do the same with all of you. You never judge me, nor criticize me. Even if you don�t agree with something I�ve said, or feel that I may be handling something the wrong way, you never chastise me. You just seem to realize that, at times, I�m a bit quirky, dance to the beat of a different drummer, and have to do things in my own unique ways, so that I can live my life without regrets. You just accept me for who I am, warts and all. Amazing! For these things, and so much more, I thank you and love you all. The good news�Dad was wrong. He is still here on Earth. I went by today and took him a little cake. I had the Nurse and Aids come into his room with me and help me sing Happy Birthday to him. I think it was just too confusing and overwhelming for him. There were no signs of recognition in his eyes. I wished him �Happy Birthday�, and got brave and decided to try, once again, to kiss him on the cheek. He started crying, grabbed a handful of cake, looked at me and said, �You Stupid Bitch! I hate you Hilda!� and flung the cake all over me. I have no idea who Hilda is, but apparently, at least today, I looked like her. All the staff gasped and looked at me teary eyed. In my lame effort to lighten the mood, all I could think of to say was, �If you�d wanted to serve the cake Dad, I would have given you a knife! Where�s Hilda, I think she should have the first piece.� Oh well, at least I tried. After leaving Dad�s, I hopped into my little truck and headed out for a 30 minutes drive down the freeway. I was on �A Mission.� One of Mom�s wishes was that � of her ashes be scattered amongst beautiful trees, and near a lake, the other half, to be scattered by her Sister, behind the house where she grew up in Birmingham, Alabama. I have been trying all year to get my Brother to get together with me to scatter them. He never has time, he�s always too busy, or �Just remind me next month. This month isn�t a good time.� Well, I love my Brother dearly, but enough was enough. I finally decided I had to take matters into my own hands. I prayed the entire drive, as scattering ashes is illegal without a special permit. I prayed that I not get caught, and that I receive some kind of sign that I was heading to the right park. Just as I pulled into the parking lot of a little park, the song �Because You Loved Me�, came on the radio. As I�ve said in the past, this song had special significance to Mom and I. I knew then that I was at the right place. I said, �Okay Mom, tell me where.� Behind a group of bushes, away from the other trees, I saw a beautiful, gnarly, majestic tree standing lone and proud. I walked over to the tree and looked around. There in the distance, was a large body of water. I knew this would be perfect. It fulfilled the wish of a lake, and the bushes would block anyone from seeing what I was doing. I said a silent prayer, and bent down to scatter the ashes at its base. There, under the shade of this lone tree, stood a tiny tree, not more than 3 ft. high, strong and proud. I smiled a smile of recognition, and scattered a few under it too, and walked away. I climbed in the truck, and as I looked over in the direction of the tree, a puff of ashes rose into the air, and scattered to the winds. I said, �Well Mom, I�ll take that as your sign of approval. I have finally fulfilled my promise to you. Now, I just wish I knew what life has in store for me.� I started my little truck, and on the radio I hear���La-la-la-la-la-la,�.The Boys are waiting!� (That Damn �Milkshake� song.) Yeah, Mom still has a sense of humor!
0 GAVE ME A LITTLE RINGY DINGY
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