5 posts tagged “death”
So, I've been meaning to come back here and tell you all the story of how I ended up with the Hobo doll. I had every intention of coming back the night I posted the picture. Then I just kinda got busy and just didn't feel like it.
While looking for a title for this post, I happened upon Wikipedia's entry for Hoboes. Who knew there was so much to learn about hoboes? They have their own lingo, their own code, and even have a convention every year. Seriously, I thought hoboes went out with the Great Depression.
Anyway, when I was a little girl, we would go on vacation to Ocean City, MD. My Mom-Mom and Pop lived there, working on the boardwalk during the summer. One of my earliest memories of those childhood vacations was the room I had to sleep in. It was a basic guest room, nothing fancy. Bed in one corner, maybe a small desk or dresser. In the corner opposite the bed was a wardrobe. On top of that wardrobe was a cute pair of Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls (that now reside with Nicole). Sitting up there with them, was the Hobo doll. Oh how he scared me. I can still see the image of his face grinning at me in the dark room. I hated that doll.
The Hobo moved with Mom-Mom wherever she went. She loved him for some reason. Maybe it was because she lived through the Great Depression. Maybe it was because she had once gone to the Hippodrome to see Red Skelton (who did a Hobo impression). I don't know. Even as an adult, it frightened me.
When Mom-Mom died about a year and a half ago, we had to go to her apartment to clean it out. It was hard and heartbreaking. I didn't want to be divvying her stuff up. I wanted her to still be alive. The lung cancer has taken her so quickly. It didn't seem possible that she was gone.
My mom was giving most of Mom-Mom's clown collection away to other people in the senior citizen apartment building she had lived in. The Hobo was in that box. As much as he had scared me, I just couldn't let him go to just anyone. So he became mine.
Sure he's scary at first glance. When I look at him, he doesn't scare me anymore. I remember Summers at the Ocean with my grandparents. I remember picking up my Grandmother at her apartment after she moved back to Baltimore for grocery shopping and lunch. She loved him and now I love him too.
*#15 in the Hobo Code
I slept in today. Perhaps a little too long. My brother in law called around 9:30am to let us know that the family shindig was still on at their house. They've had some illness and crud going around up there, but everyone is in good health now.
Anyway, I went back to bed after he called. I had been up til 2am. Ok, ok, Steve had been up til 2am watching the Bourne Supremecy. I fell asleep, but sleeping on the couch isn't really sleeping, so I needed to go back to bed.
During that last 2 hours of sleep, I had the strangest dream. My Mom-Mom was in it. Alive and well. She looked so good. She had just dyed her hair all by herself. I told her I wanted to take a picture of her. It all seemed so real. I hugged her and started crying. She said, "Why are you crying? I'm not dead yet!". She was talking about having to go to some appointment the next week, but after that, we were all going to take a trip to Spain. Then, my 81 year old grandmother started singing "Holiday in Spain". We went on to sit down in what appeared to be some castle on some fancy couch. I was telling her all the things I remember doing with her as a child. I noticed a cricket on my quilt and decided to shake it out. With that I woke up. I wanted to get back to my dream. Mom-Mom was so real and so alive. I couldn't get back to sleep after that.
Boy do I miss her.
What's one thing you regret not doing?
Submitted by Mr. Nice.
Going to see my Mom-Mom more often before she died.
I'm at a weird point right now. The dull aching in my chest is beginning to subside. The tears are welling up in my eyes at every little thing. Life is beginning to feel normal again more often.
Last night, I realized after coming home from the bonfire for the middle schoolers at church, that I hadn't thought about Mom-Mom. I didn't spend the night thinking the whole time, 'How can these people be so happy when I feel like I am dying inside?'.
But now, I miss it. I don't want to forget how much I love her. I don't want to not hurt. I feel like that means I am forgetting her. I don't want to get used to the world without my Mom-Mom.
My Mom-Mom died on Sunday. She was surrounded by her children and grandchildren. I suppose if you have to go, that is the way to go. I miss her terribly already. She was so much more than a grandmother. She was judgemental or harsh. She was kind and loving, but she would tell you like it was too. She was everything a grandmother should be.
She was snuggly and cuddly. I remember sitting on her lap and holding her hands as a small child admiring her fingernails that grew like they were manicured. Mine don't grow like that. She was soft too. I remember loving to come up and sit on her lap and lay my head on her ample chest. LOL I didn't get those from her either.
She loved to go out to eat at all you can eat buffets. I did get my love of eating from her. I learned that happy times, sad times, any time was a good time for food.
I learned that I was strong enough to make it on my own from her. After over 50 years of marriage and losing the love of her life, she went on alone. She didn't drive. I loved taking her to the grocery store. She would call and say, "Janie, I need a couple things from the store." And I would tell her I would take her. Then she would add, "Well, I haven't eaten anything yet...." waiting for me to add that we would go to lunch too.
She would take our crap either. She didn't tolerate us grandchildren fighting or talking disrepectfully to her or any other adult. You would quickly feel the back of her hand across your cheek. Mom-Mom and Pop would take us to get our Christmas outfits at Sears every year too. They would let us pick whatever we wanted. A big treat for kids who weren't exactly well off.
In the summer we would go and stay with Mom-Mom and Pop at the beach. They lived at the beach and worked on the Ocean City boardwalk. Mom-Mom managed a t-shirt shop so we would get to go in and pick whatever shirt and decal we wanted for that year.
I loved it when they came to stay with us during the winter holidays. They always arrived with a box of sour cream donuts from Mr Donut. During Christmas break, they would take us out to breakfast with them. I was the youngest and smallest, so I would get to sit sandwiched in between them in the front of their baby blue cadillac. I loved coming home from school during that time too. Pop would be sitting in the comfy chair in our living room. Guiding Light would be on. Mom-Mom would be in the kitchen. After they headed back to the ocean in January, my sister Nicole's room would smell like a mix of Brut and Jontue, the memory of their visit lingering in the air like their scents.
I could go on and on about how wonderful she was, all the memories of the time we shared. I'm just glad God gave her to me. I am truly blessed to have known her and be able to call her my Mom-Mom.
