Monthly Archives: May 2015

Mom, a Small Desk, Garage Sale and the Grieving Process

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Eleanor Van MeterIt’s the last day of May, the last day of my extended Memorial Day time off from work and another “first” since Mom passed away from her diseases. With every first, comes another moment to remember things from the past, with one thing leading to another. I’m sure that feeling will ease up after a year passes and I suppose everyone goes through this experience in one way or another in the grieving process. With the spring and summer months upon us, I find this feeling happening more frequently than before.

Yesterday, I had a garage sale in hopes of getting rid of some of the old and in with the new, although you won’t be able to buy much “new” with the money you might make from a garage sale! It’s no matter though, one of my goals has been to start clearing out the basement and besides, it’s good to be able to see a part of the basement that has nothing in it. Now for the other half of the basement and another garage sale in September. You can’t move on and grow in life until you start to clear out all of the old skeletons and cob webs, which is another reason to get rid of stuff.  It lightens your load and creates organization in your life. Once everything is out of the basement, after the sale, nothing goes back down, it gets thrown in the truck and brought right down to the local Goodwill or some other place that might help others in need.

garage sale 2That being said, it was about 4:30 pm. I was sitting outside just waiting until 5:00, at which time, I would start gathering everything that didn’t sell and start loading the truck. Right then a car pulls up with 2 woman and a lively little girl. The driver gets out of the car seeming to have an urgency about her. She asked me, if I by chance had a small desk? I paused for a moment, thinking, should I say anything…am I ready? You see, I did have a very small desk that I had bought for my mother when she had first come to live with me, before her dementia became obvious. She had specifically asked for a desk for her room where she could sit and write letters. I found just the thing on Craigslist and upon seeing it, I knew it was just what we needed to fit into her room comfortably. Although she didn’t use it much, that little desk meant something to me and reminded me of her. So, it sat in the basement taking up space until I felt ready to let it go.

Photos: above: (1) Mom a few weeks before Leukemia and dementia took her, Below: (2) Mom in California typing at her tiny home desk when she was still working.

mom_typewriterSo, after the long pause, I finally said to the woman, it’s your lucky day. I do just happen to have a very small desk. Would you like me to have it brought up from the basement so that you could look at it? She replied yes. We brought up the desk and it was exactly what she was looking for. She said that she had been to every garage sale in the area looking for a small desk, even going to some stores but they were much too expensive for her budget. I had a good feeling about this lady and her daughter was a little delight. I ended up selling my mother’s small desk to her for $20.00 which was much less than I had paid for it originally…like I said, I had a good feeling about her. They loaded it into her minivan, paid me and before she got into the car, she said to me, I’m starting a child care program at my house and I am trying to gather what I need on a limited budget. That was all she needed to say to make me know inside that I had made the right decision in letting the desk go. The desk had found a good home for a good cause…a match made in heaven. My mother would have approved. Sadly enough, I have no photos of the desk, which almost seems impossible but even so, it was a good day!

 

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Remembering My Father on Memorial Day

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Edward Brophy   Edward Brophy_2

It’s Memorial Day, a day to remember all of our servicemen who so bravely fought for this country. We all either know or are related to people who have served…and today is their day to be remembered and honored. In my case, my father and 2 grandfather’s who served as far as I am aware of, one grandfather losing his life to the war. As I am enjoying my long weekend at home, I can’t help but take time to think about what this day is really about.

My Mom and Dad were married a long, long time ago and although the marriage only lasted 5 years, I know that my father went on to love my mother for the rest of his life. I didn’t know him very well since I lived with my mother until I was 15 years old, then went to live with my father at almost 17 years old at a point when I was a wild child. It was a rough time in not ever having a male role model in my life and lord knows he wasn’t used to having a teenager in the house either. We made it until I was about almost 19 years old when I moved out to make my own way. It was neither of our faults really, just the nature of the situation.

Photos: above: (1) Dad’s military portrait, (2) Dad in civilian clothing, below: (3) My Mom & Dad in the early years, (4) another really old military photo of my father, Edward Brophy.

mom-dad-boatI remember as a child always idealizing my father, carrying photos of him everywhere that I went. Fact is a girl needs a father as he’s the first male role model in her life and will form all the rest of her relationships with men moving forward. As with everyone, I grew up, got on with my life, had my own family and very often, having the same rocky roads, and as the saying goes…history repeats itself. No matter, I am fine, and I think that I’ve turned out pretty well considering the bumps in the road.

My Dad loved to dance, loved his beef stroganoff, beer, a good party, football and loved to watch the old war movies on tv. As with many servicemen, it’s almost as if he couldn’t get his military days out of his heart and soul. His laugh was talked about throughout his whole life because it sounded very funny, almost like a donkey, lol…it made other people laugh too. He was also, oddly enough, rather reclusive and kept within himself for the most part. He had strange beginnings in that his father, my red-headed grandfather, died while serving our country. His Mother, Helen, couldn’t deal with the loss and had a mental breakdown leaving her unable to handle everyday life. My father eventually had to go to live with his cousins who took care of him. I never knew either of my father’s parents, my paternal grandparents and only found photos of them after his death. For some reason he didn’t want to share these photos with anyone.

Edward Brophy_4This past September, after a long bout with dementia/Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s and finally leukemia, my mother passed away. In the months afterwards, I’ve been slowly going through her papers and journals finding an array of things. One of these things are the above photos of my father. They were hiding neatly behind my original birth certificate, which back then was a letter sized certificate with a newborn footprint along with the usual information, set in a padded presentation folder. I was amazed to find these photos and it was if she wanted me to find them someday when the time was right. I’d say the timing was very good since I am able to post them on the first Memorial Day after her death. Dad has been gone for many years now, after a battle with smoking related heart disease and emphyzema, but I’m sure he would be happy that I finally have found these photos when I did.

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Remembering Mom, Our Struggles, Our Blessings and Dementia on the First Mother’s Day After

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Eleanor_Sarter_Lynn_4  Mom-babyme

It’s been 8 months since Mom passed from her dreaded diseases and the first Mother’s Day since, is upon me. At this time, I can’t help but reflect on our relationship over the years, both with dementia and before dementia and Alzheimer’s worked it’s evil magic.

My mother, Eleanor Van Meter, had always wanted a career, going as far back as her childhood. Some kids dream of being married with kids and others yearn to be in the business world, in the big city, as in the case of my mother. As a matter of fact, we had that very discussion after she came to live with me. She admitted that motherhood and having children wasn’t on her list of things to do and that working and career had been her big dream in life. But, as fate would have it, “oppsey”…I came along, much to her surprise. I’m sure my arrival put quite a damper on her plans in the business world but she stepped up and made the best of it, dealing with it in the best way she was able at the time, with the help of her parents, my grandparents. I think that even with all the adversities and bumps in the road throughout the years, I turned out okay. That means to me, that she did good!

Photos: above: (1) Mom and Me, on vacation, (2) Mom and Me at a few months old. Below: (3) Mom and Me at Greenwood Lake, (4) Mom with her grandchild Shad

Eleanor_lynnI remember that conversation as if it were yesterday, although in reality it was about 4 years ago. She was already in the throws of dementia but it wasn’t at the crippling stage at that point, so thankfully, our conversations were both informative and memorable. Even though nobody would especially choose to hear that kind of news, I wasn’t surprised, nor was I resentful. I guess, I kind of sensed it as I was growing up. Looking back at childhood, there wasn’t a time that I can remember that Mom wasn’t working in NYC at some big company, leaving in the early morning and arriving back home at night. I was alone a lot, coming and going pretty much whenever the spirit moved me. Everybody, including my mother, was entitled to live out their dream and although life wasn’t easy back then for either of us, she adequately provided for me. We were far from well off financially and there were times that I walked around with holes in my white keds and looking like a ragamuffin compared to my friends, but hey, that was the style back then…bobby sox and keds with holes in the toes! It’s ok…I was never hungry and always had a roof over my head. Also, a lot of time was spent at my grandparent’s house and I loved being there too so it was all good. They didn’t work and I felt very comfortable with the dynamic and normalcy of that household, which I’m sure, is part of the reason that I am as normal as I am today.

As a kid, I recall meeting Mom every night at a designated spot after she got off the train from work and we would go to eat dinner out together. We would go to Jahn’s, get Chinese take out, sit at the Hamburger Express and watch the train deliver our burgers or just get a pizza. We didn’t eat home much, which probably accounts for my lack of expertise in the kitchen and my disinterest of home entertaining! I could choose to look at this in one of two ways….one, we were so different than my friends who had home cooked meals every night, boo-hoo….or two, none of my friends got to eat out every night, so I’m pretty lucky! I chose the latter way to think of it! Actually today, I almost never get to eat out anymore, so it’s looking pretty appealing to me!

shad_momI have memories of Mom trying to wake me up in the morning to go to school…probably around the grade school days. She’d come in my room full of energy and determination, singing “You’ve got to get up, You’ve got to get up, You’ve got to get up in the morning”.  It sounded like an army style thing with a bugle, something that she might have picked up during her growing up years…but I can remember her singing like it were yesterday. After the song, she would bring in a cup of tea, sometimes different types of tea such as Earl Grey, Darjeeling, Oolong or English Breakfast tea. She is the one who introduced me to tea and the different varieties that I still love to this day.

I also remember the day I turned into a girl from a tomboy, as we stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom trying to figure out how to make my hair into the perfect Flip with a headband, just like Patty Duke’s hair. The headband style loomed large in my transformation as I recall. Even though we were not like most mothers and daughters, she tried to do good things for me as best she could as I was growing up. It wasn’t easy either since I was quite a handful being a hyperactive child with very rebellious tendencies.

As adults, our relationship was mainly by phone since she had moved to California back in the 70’s. In California, she married the love of her life Dwight Van Meter, and I was living life hippie style on Long Island…Age of Aquarius! We sure did go through a lot of stages through the years. But we had great conversations, mostly on Sunday nights just as her and her own mother once had in adulthood. We talked about everything, the happenings of the day and week, the dogs and their antics, about her job and books that she might have read. Later, we talked about writing and illustrating a children’s book together, which never came to fruition, although, I’ve considered following through with writing it in her memory. There were a lot of little things that were left unsaid due to her disease that I now wish I had said, but even though, I feel that we did come to terms together with our relationship…and she came to terms finally, with her OCD disorder that crippled most of her life.

No, life wasn’t perfect…she wasn’t a perfect or typical mother and I wasn’t a perfect or typical kid, we were just human. BUT…she was my mother and I was her kid and we both did the best we could in an imperfect world with the cards that we were dealt. I don’t have a lot of early memories, but I will remember her by the ones that I do have. Our time together this time around didn’t come with huge, monumental happenings and events, we were simple people coming from simple beginnings living a very simple life. Hopefully, through the years, little memories of the past will come back to me and I will consider them a visit from my mother.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom, wherever you are!

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