Not as much to say today.
I started having what I am referring to as “flashbacks” today. I can be sitting here, on my couch, or driving down the road or doing anything and I will have one. They are vivid recollections of those last few precious hours. One of the flashbacks is of my mother sitting in her recliner, comatose, struggling to breathe. The other flashback is the moment when we moved mom from her recliner into the hospital bed about an hour before she died. The hospice nurse slid a sheet under her and five of us lifted her from the chair and into the bed.
I don’t want to compare these flashbacks to those that people with PTSD suffer, but from what I know they sound similar. I hope they don’t last long.
The funeral was nice. So many flowers and plants. TJW sent a plant.
Mom always told me that she wanted to meet Tim and I always said that we would get around to it. I feel guilty for not arranging that meeting now. She was a little nutty and I always felt like he dealt with enough of that, he didn’t need to get stuck in a room with her. I wish I had done that for her now. He would have done it, had I asked. I should have asked...
Heather and my VERY soon to be ex had that first awkward meeting today. They didn’t actually meet, but they knew who each other was. Heather and I had talked about how they would meet and I always figured it would be bumping into each other in a Target/Wal-Mart type setting. I never thought it would be at my mom’s funeral.
Heather had the chance to meet my mom a few times, but their first meeting really sticks out in my head.
Mom travelled to California this past summer and saw a doctor. That doctor prescribed her medicinal marijuana. She was issued a card, which permitted her to go to the “weed store” and buy marijuana products. Mom stocked up on cannabis before she came back to Minnesota. She brought home a few ounces of the biggest, fattest, hairiest buds I have ever seen. The label called it “Grape Ape” and stated it was for medicinal use only. The label also advised against operating heavy machinery while under the influence. It wasn’t just buds she transported home. She brought home weed cookies (laced oatmeal, chocolate chip, etc), marijuana made caramel, and reefer chocolates.
Mom kept asking my brother to pick her up a bong so she could smoke her weed. The only places in and around Rochester to buy bongs are more famous for their sales of sexual toys and videos. My brother was absolutely mortified by the thought of taking his mom into an “adult book store” so he refused to buy her the bong.
Heather and I were sitting at my place and mom called and mentioned his refusal to buy her a pipe. When I was done on the phone, I told Heather about all of this and told her I was half-tempted to go buy her one and take it to her. She supported my decision, so I asked her if she wanted to ride along. She did, so off to the porn store we went. I don’t think the guy behind the counter believed me when I said it was for my mom, but who cares. We bought the pipe and hauled it down to my mom in Spring Valley. Mom had my brother set her pipe up and proceeded to burn a doobie in front of my new girlfriend.
That is how Heather met my mom.
I have to cut this one short tonight. I have to get up early and get ready for my day in court. My mom’s funeral and my divorce hearing all in the same week. My lawyer asked if I would like to change the date when she learned of my mother’s death. It took months to get this date – I told her no way, I am ready to go now. At least I will finally be single again tomorrow – although single in title only. Heather might take exception to my use of the word single, but anyone who has ever been married before will understand what I mean.
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