Aunt Martha

My Aunt Martha's funeral was today. My Uncle Richard, Aunt Martha's brother-in-law, said I should write a book about life. I think Aunt Martha would like that.
Life is not planned, yet, it is. I always knew I would be a reporter. But there was no way I was going to be a mom, let alone a grandma. I really didn't want the responsibility. But I ended up with five kids and a bunch of grandkids. It happened all because I married a man who is really, really good with kids.
He never thought of himself as a pet owner. But we have had dogs, turtles and birds because I really, really like animals.
I didn't think I would be a woman who enjoyed gardening flowers or crocheting. I do enjoy pruning my roses and watering them. I'm not crazy about pulling weeds. I didn't think the stuff I learned in botony would ever be useful but some of the tidbits of info filter in.
I miss Aunt Martha. She was a fun woman. She laughed when others may not have laughed. She saw through people. She knew who was putting on an act and who was for real.
My pet parakeet, Birdie, died on Monday. I think I killed her. I wanted to say I caused her death because that sounded nicer. But a week ago when I left for work I opened the living room window next to Birdie's cage because it was warm in the house. I left work and went straight to the hospital where Aunt Martha was. I ended up staying late because things weren't going well and it was obvious Uncle Bob needed some support. When I got home, I failed to shut the window and temperatures dropped.
Birdie, I'm sure, caught a chill and got sick. It didn't help when I changed her food in her food dish I forgot to put food in the food dish.
So on Sunday, Father's Day, Birdie was hanging almost upside down from her perch. It was obvisious she was very, very sick. Monday morning, she was dead.
Rod and I went for a walk last night. I love going for a walk with him. It forces him to talk to me. He gets nervous if he thinks we're invading someone's private space. There was an accident down the street and you'd think with all the lights it was something major. But when we got there it was just a fender bender.
I hate walking in the same direction cars go. I like walking even if there's a sidewalk so I can see the cars coming at me. It's from years of walking to school and having cars honk behind me and scaring me to death. I want to see death in the face.
Anyway I insisted on crossing the street so we could walk north while traffic headed south. Rod was worried we were invading the private space of those involved in the accident because they were sitting on the sidewalk.
The sidewalk is a public place. I'm not going to stop and ask them questions. Now if it was one of those really traumatic accidents, I might stop:)

Life

My Aunt Martha Watts, 69, passed away on Wednesday, June 16, 2010, in the IHC Hospital in Salt Lake City following heart surgery. She was a fighter. She had battled bad health for 30 years. She knew the end to this life was coming but she didn't want to quit. She had a strong belief in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. She also said what she thought and didn't mince words.
My daughter, Jennica Sherrie Brocious, is 23 today, Thursday, June 17, 2010. She is a fighter. She doesn't quit. I know she has a strong belief in Heavenly Father, His Son Jesus Christ and in the Holy Ghost. She always says what she thinks and doesn't mince words, even though sometimes I really wish she would soften it.
I love these two women. They have been inspirational to me in the past few years. I think Aunt Martha is the reason I decided to add red to my hair. I try to be more outspoken like Jennica and not take crap from others.
Yesterday when I got the news my Aunt Martha had died, I knew I couldn't call Rod because he was at a funeral. The sister of a man in our ward had died this week. She was of the Baptist faith, but our LDS ward said they would provide the luncheon for the family after the funeral.
I really wanted to talk to my husband. But he's a bishop. I told the Lord I needed to talk to my husband, but the Lord said, "You're on your own."
I helped my Uncle Bob, Aunt Martha's husband, write a draft obiturary. He kept it short.
I hate writing obits.

Just thoughts

My Aunt Martha, who is close to 70, is fighting for her life right now. I drove to the IHC hospital in Murray to see her Monday. She was too sick for visitors. I stayed with Uncle Bob until he left at 10:30. But God had other plans and He almost took her home later that night, bu the doctors interupted her departure. Now she is fighting to stay here.
I like my Aunt Martha. She's fiesty, sassy and seems to have good intentions.
I remember driving home and looking at the moon. It was a sliver of a thing with a star hanging just above it. I wondered then how many people in their cars were taking the time to look at it.
Thursday my baby girl turns 23. I like her. She's fiesty, sassy and seems to have good intentions. I'm praying she will find a job soon. She is an amazing person.
I spent all day Tuesday in a courtroom listening to testimony in a civil lawsuit that is almost 10 years old. I remember watching the house on Heather Drive fall into itself as a landslide wiped out other homes on the block, one by one, day by day. It made me grateful my husband refused to build our house on a slope and insisted (yes, I wanted a slope) on flat, boring ground.
I have convinced Rod's mom, who is 82, she is healthy enough to go on a road trip with Rod and me. Our niece, her granddaughter, is getting married in July in Idaho. It's like an 11 hour drive, but we're coming up with options which should be fun.
Now back to writing the complex story about Heather Drive, lawsuits and whatever.
I'm getting used to the empty nest. I just wish I wasn't so tired all of the time.
Maybe going boating this weekend (hope, hope, hope) will help. I love going boating. OK, I'm not in the boat, but on the beach with the grandkids playing in the water and the mud, feeding them and hugging them. I like that. I love that feeling of just relaxing.

Dread

Dread is a feeling I have lived with for almost all of my life. I remember feeling it when I lived in Idaho as a little girl. I didn't know why I felt like that. I just knew something bad was happening or going to happen.
I have had this feeling since Saturday night. I can't shake it. I don't know why.
I don't know if it is the weather, hormones or just something someone is projecting on to me.
It could be Rod. He is a bishop and he has had a number of interviews. He comes home grumpy. He also has had to pour concrete at work and it is the tale end of the project so he comes home grumpy. He does not think he is, but he is.
It could be my children. Terra has been stressed with all of her photo shots. Jennica cannot sleep in her house because she wakes up not being able to breathe. Then she plays her game and does not realize that it will actually keep her awake. It has something to do with the lights. I've tried to talk to her. This morning didn't go well.
She told me I don't understand how it feels not being able to sleep. I have suffered from insomia for years. But I've learned to keep boring books near my bed so I can fall asleep faster. I have also trained my brain not to think about the day, but to day dream. Think of what if's. Let it just circle and before you know it, I'm fast asleep.
I wonder if this feeling of dread has to do with worry in general.
No the nest is not exactly empty. It still has feathers in it from my chicks. I see them and wonder what they are doing and if they are OK and what I can do to help. But I can't. It's time for them to spread their wings and just fly or crash.