Italian Easter Traditions

 

 

 

Easter time growing up meant two things:  palms and lonza. 

First  . . . On Easter Mom would give each of us a special keepsake made from palms that she had hand-picked on Palm Sunday.  Mom always looked for the freshest palms because those palms were more flexible to bend and manipulate into the designs she intended to create.  Mom would work all week making sure she had a beautiful keepsake for Jerome, Jamie and me.  Even after we all grew up, married and moved out of the house, mom would continue to make us each one.

 

 

This year on Palm Sunday there were no palms distributed at our place of worship “The Compass Church”.  Fortunately, when Ron and I were in Vegas I picked up two different palm creations one which I had given to mom immediately upon arriving home from our trip in January which was a beautiful rose bouquet which sits nicely on her TV.  The second one was a much bigger and more delicate piece which I keep in my office.

 

 

Ron shellacked them so both creations can last for years as fond memories of my childhood and mom’s annual gift to us.  Mom was a perfectionist and so detailed-oriented; she was very talented with her hands.  I have to admit I always cherished this gift from mom and so glad I have a keepsake to remember our tradition.

 

 

Second . . . On Easter Dad would slice the ‘lonza’ that he had made with Uncle Ector and his family and Ernie his cousin.  They had brought the recipe for making Lonza here from our family origin in the San Benedetto region of Italy.    They would always gather together during the holidays to enjoy each other’s company and make the lonza.  After they finished the meat would have to cure for 13 weeks making Easter a perfect time to sample the Italian lunchmeat.

 

 

On Easter Sunday dad would go downstairs to our basement and slice the lonza wafer thin on his slicing machine.  Although my slicing machine is not dad's my meat slicer works perfect.

Lonza is made from precious meats that are unlike anything found in most specialty shops.  The only thing even remotely close to this delicacy is prosciutto; believe me lonza is twice as delicious and twice as expensive.

 

Unfortunately, no one in my immediate family learned this craft although my brothers and I loved eating the lonza.  My father has now been gone for 24 years.  When he passed so did this wonderful family tradition.

Fortunately, my Uncle Ector’s family has kept up this beautiful tradition within their family and his children have now passed down this tradition to their children.  We have on occasion been able to enjoy some of their lonza which has been a treat to say the least.  We have always appreciated their generosity.

 

 

Good news!  My cousin Paul started a company called Mascitti Specialty Meats.  He will be making lonza all year long and selling to specialty shops.  How great!

Last Saturday, after the pizza party with mom I stopped at Paul’s to pick up a lonza.  I had to take a photo for mom of Paul with the lonza. 

 

Mom was so excited when I told her that he was making and selling lonza that she could hardly wait to have some.  I promised I would come over for lunch this week and bring her some.

I have had two very sick puppies in and out of the animal hospital this week so today was the first day I could bring mom lonza and Italian bread. 

When I showed her what I brought, her words were, “Oh boy  . . .  it looks great.” 

 

 

And indeed the lonza was absolutely delicious.  As people came and talked with us, mom had to tell everyone what we were eating.  She talked about Paul and how he handmade the lonza.  She talked about my dad and how he loved making the lonza.

 

Mom took such enjoyment out of eating the lonza that I gave her most of what I had brought.  And when I went to leave mom said, “Julienne, this was a real treat.”

What a gift to be able to enjoy this family tradition again.

 

 

 

Pizza and Sausage Party



 

As planned Saturday was Pizza Party day.  Mom loves her pizza crispy so that was a must to ensure her enjoyment.  Ron and I stopped at Lou Malnati’s and ordered one well done large thin pepperoni pizza for mom and a small thin cheese pizza.

Once we arrived at The Community* everyone including mom was sitting around a table in the garden room on the first floor.  Mom was happy to see us and even happier to see the pizzas we were carrying.

Mom’s first comment to me was, “Guess what, Julienne, I had forgotten today was the day we were getting together.”

Jamie mentioned that when Tracy and he went upstairs to bring mom downstairs she was in the lunchroom just about to enjoy some chicken soup.  Mom was surprised to find out that her party day was here already.

Mom wanted both the well done sausage Jamie made her and a piece of pizza on her plate.  Mom’s appetite was excellent as she not only ate both but had a few more slices of pizza (picking the crispest ones).

 

 

Pizza Day was extra special because mom asked for us all to be together yet prior to this day worried if she made a good decision.  She wondered if she would still be feeling good enough to take pleasure in being together with her family.  Mom enjoyed every moment and so did we. 

In fact, mom liked the party so much she wished she had invited her grandchildren and great grandchildren.  She kept repeating over and over, “Forgive me for not inviting them to this party.”  Honestly I was not sure if she could take all the excitement so I did not push her.  I was totally honoring mom’s request.

Jerome said, “Good thing you didn’t invite them; they would have eaten all your pizza, mom.”

“That’s Ok they could have eaten all my pizza.  I would let them.”

“Mom repeated that she missed them and would love to see them.”

Debbie said, “Mom, next time we will invite them.  Michael is still at school. None of us are going anywhere.  We will do this again.”

Sam*, a good friend of mom’s and our family, came by to say hi.  We asked him to share some of our pizza but he declined.  Instead he showed us his knee.  Recently he had knee replacement surgery and he was doing remarkably well.  Ron is scheduled to have knee replacement soon so we were all anxious to hear about his progress.

Mom talked a lot about mom and my photo in the newspaper and telling me that everyone on her floor was talking about it.  She said, “I’m so proud our picture was in the paper.  What do you say I have again?”

“Dementia”, I said.

“No! You said something else!” mom questioned.

“COPD and Congestive Heart Failure” I answered.

“Yes, that’s it.  I keep forgetting.”

Just then Angelina* walked by our table and mom called her over, “I want to introduce you to my three sons.”   We all laughed especially mom when she realized what she said.  Jerome said, “Hey Mom, My Three Sons was a TV show.”

 

Angelina* said, “Your mom is very sweet. She talks about you and your brothers all the time.  She also tells me about her grandson that plays soccer.  She tells me that she used to go to his games.”

 

Angelina* is the weekend activities person.  Mom is fond of her and you could tell by their photo that Angelina feels the same way. 

She was kind enough to take a photo of our entire group so we could all be in the picture.

 

 

As the party was coming to an end, I informed mom that I was going to Paul’s home to pick up some lonza.   Mom said, “Lonza, how wonderful he made it.  I can’t wait to eat some.  Bring me lots.” (Lonza is an Italian specialty meat)

“Someday this week, you and I will eat Lonza sandwiches together.”

“Great, Julienne, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

“I am so glad you enjoyed the party.”

 

Tiny Miracles For Gilda

The Community* had scheduled a meeting with me this past Wednesday to discuss Mom’s continuing care.    I arrived early so I could pop upstairs for some time with mom.  After all today was an exciting day because mom and I were featured in an article in the Naperville Sun last week.  The title of the article was ‘Daughter chronicles mother’s illness’.  I had remembered today to bring the article to show mom. 

Initially when I was interviewed by the reporter from the Sun back in November of last year, she had informed me that she planned on having the article run in a March issue.  At the time, I was disappointed to hear that because mom was so close to the end that I never thought she would be able to see her photo in the paper along with the article.   Proving that God has perfect timing not only is mom still with us, she can actually read and appreciate the story.

 



Mom’s bout with Dementia has been a new challenge for mom and everyone around her as we have not had anything like this to deal with before.  We do not know what to expect.  Every visit is filled with the unknown of how we will find her.  Mom’s condition has been a reckless rollercoaster with many bumps and turns.  Fortunately mom has recently taken an unexpected turn for the better.  No one has any answers except to tell us to enjoy the window of clarity mom is experiencing right now because the window can close at any time without notice.

Mom was surprised to see me; she had forgotten that when Ron and I saw her on Monday that I mentioned returning on Wednesday for a ‘Care Meeting’. 

“Guess what, Jamie was here earlier”, mom said.

“How nice, mom.  I have something special to show you.” With that I opened my notebook, and pulled out and handed a newspaper article to mom.

“Our picture is in the paper.  What’s that all about?” mom wondered.

 



“Mom, I was interviewed by the Naperville Sun and they wrote an article about us.”

Mom started to read the title, “Daughter what’s that word, Julienne?”

“The word is chronicle which means that I continue to write stories concerning most of the things you and I discuss about your illness including all the photos I take.  The article reads ‘Daughter chronicles mother’s illness’. “

“Julienne, read it to me, I don’t have my glasses.”  So I did, and when I finished mom said, “Julienne, you are so ambitious.”

“The photo of you and me is from our blog.  Do you like the article and the photo I used?

“Beautiful, Julienne, just beautiful,” mom sincerely commented.  My heart melted; mom was proud of me sharing her story (actually our story) and for that alone my blog is validated in my eyes.

“Did Dana* see it?”

“Yes, I saw her on my way upstairs and I showed her.”

“Did she like it?”

“She loved it.”

Mom had a huge smile on her face, “I knew she would.”

“Let’s go show Billy*?”  I wheeled mom to the nurses’ station.  “Did you see my daughter’s article?” handing the article to Billy*. 

“Very nice, Gilda,” Billy* stated.

We showed a few other people then I excused myself and left for the care meeting on the first floor.

During the meeting we discussed the remarkable difference in mom the past few weeks.  After reviewing her medications and care they commented that they do not understand her progress right now.  One comment was “I consider it tiny miracles for Gilda.” 

I acknowledged that the care mom is receiving at The Community* is wonderful and I took time to praise several members of their staff that go out of their way to make mom feel loved and cared for.

After the meeting, I went back upstairs to say goodbye to mom.  She was in the activity room working on a word puzzle book.  “Mom, I am so happy to see spending time working in your word books.”

“I’m not doing that well today.  I did better yesterday.  How did everything go?” mom asked.

“Everything went well; everyone is pleased with your progress.”

“Am I staying?”  Mom questioned.

“Until God calls you home, you are staying mom.”

“OK.”  Mom confirmed. 

“Mom, I will see you Saturday for our pizza party.”

“I asked Jamie to bring some sausage.  Is that ok?”

“Do you still want pizza?”

“Yes, can’t I have sausage too?”

“You sure can.  I’ll see you Saturday.”

Leaving today I felt fabulous, mom loved our article and she was looking forward to her pizza party and oh yes  . . .  some sausage.



The Band Played On

 

On Monday after spending several hours in a knee surgeon’s office, Ron and I decided to stop and see mom on our way home.  Mom was sitting in the activity room with her friends singing.  Yes  . . .   I said singing!   Mom was holding a booklet with about ten songs written in large print.  Mom’s hands still shake but she was able to hold the book well enough to read and sing-along. 

As soon as mom saw us she smiled and said, “I can quit.”

“No need to stop singing, mom, Ron and I will join in.” with that Ron and I both pulled up chairs alongside mom.  She loved us singing with her.  Although I had to share mom’s program because I had never heard of some of the songs they were singing, Ron knew all the words as he was in the Madrigals in High School.  We sang such songs as:  Margie, In My Merry Oldsmobile, and The Band Played On.



When they were through singing, I informed mom that the family pizza party she requested would be this Saturday.  “Julienne, I figured you would try and do it,” Mom said.

“Of course, you asked me to.  We are all looking forward to getting together with you as a family.”

“Do you think it will be OK?”  Mom was worrying already if she made the right decision in asking for a family get together.

“I think you had a wonderful idea, mom.”

“How about we order a pepperoni pizza, mom?” Ron responded.

“That’s what I like; ask Julienne.” Mom commented.

As we left today, mom was in a terrific mood.  After she kissed Ron, she said, “I want another, do you mind?”

“You can have as many as you want, mom.” Ron laughed and gave mom more hugs and kisses.

“Kisses are free. You can have as many as you want, mom,”  I laughed.

“What do you mean free . . . they’re priceless.” Ron joked.

“You’re right . . . priceless,” I confirmed. 

 “Love you both with all my heart,” mom said smiling. 

As we left, all three of us were blowing kisses.



Good Luck in Life

 

On Thursday, I spent some time with mom.  For several months during every visit with mom, she always brings up the quality or lack thereof regarding her bowel movements as though this should be a normal subject for us to discuss.  She is always concerned whether she is going too much or too little.  My reassurance to mom means little with regard to this area of discussion.  Every time I take mom to the restroom, mom feels compelled to report her progress to Billy* her nurse immediately.  Mom instructs me to wheel her to Billy* and I do so not to upset her. 

Mind you that Billy* has not requested this information.   Billy* never gives mom any reason for concern about what she reports.  In fact, Billy’s* response is always reassuring.  She’ll say one of two comments to mom either ‘That’s ok,’ or ‘That’s good.’ Mom will repeat whatever her nurse says right back only in the form of a question like ‘That’s ok?’ or ‘That’s good?’   Then mom waits for Billy’s* confirming response; she never lets mom down repeating ‘Yes, that’s ok’ or ‘Yes, that’s good’. This reminds me of a movie called Groundhog Day where the day keeps repeating itself no matter how many times you wake up.

 

This day while mom going through her regular spiel with Billy*, Donna*, one of the other residents, said to mom in a pleasant and funny tone, “You are such a pretty lady, but you’re a pain.  You are always worrying or complaining.” 

 

Donna*, Billy* and I smiled.  Mom saw us all smile or smirk. Mom smiled too and responded, “I am glad I make you all laugh”.  Mom and Donna* are good friends; I do not think mom was at all upset her comment.

 

Later that visit, mom wanted to know if I could bring in a pizza and invite a few family members there. Mom stressed a small group.  I let her know that I would contact Jamie and Jerome and plan a date for a pizza party.  This is a big deal because mom normally is overwhelmed to see more than one or two people at a time, so the possibility of 5 or 6 people may seem like a huge crowd to her, but certainly worth a try.

 

When I left mom, Maria was starting to wheel people into the activity room.  So after I wheeled mom to her place at the Bingo table, I said, “Mom, good luck in Bingo today.”

 

Mom kissed me, squeezed me as tight as she could then said, “Good luck in life, Julienne.”

 

“Thanks, mom, everyone needs a little luck.”  We blew each other kisses.

 



And I Will Follow Him

 

Over the weekend, mom was quarantined to her room.  She had minor flu symptoms but because there were other residents with the flu on her floor, mom’s nurse did not want to take any chances so all day Friday and Saturday, mom was confined to her room including receiving and eating all her meals there too. We were informed that if mom’s condition did not worsen for 48 hours she would be allowed out of her room.

On Sunday Ron and I went to visit mom.  We were delighted to see that mom was by the nurses’ station sitting with her friends.  Mom was happy to see us both.  She wanted us to go to her room and see that there was not a room number on the wall anymore.

“What room number am I in?  People think I’m stupid because I don’t remember.”

“Mom, you are not stupid.  You know which room is yours.”

“Yes, but I don’t remember the number.”

Upon arriving at mom’s room she showed me that her room number was missing.  The reason the issue came up about the room number is because The Community* is currently remodeling mom’s floor so the numbers are off the rooms until the painting and wall papering is finished.

While I was straightening mom’s closet and checking her pillows for her, she asked for me to find her word puzzle book.  Mom said, “I would like to try again to do word puzzles.” 

Handing mom one of her books I said, “Mom, good for you.”

“Julienne, write my room number on my book so if they ask me again I can tell them.”  Today was an amazing time with mom she not only spoke in complete sentences.  She could actually hold a normal conversation the entire time.  I was so excited that Ron was with me to see her this way.

I wasted no time and wrote her room number on the back of her book and showed mom so she knew where to find her room number.  “Ok, good, Julienne.”

Mom likes her hands and arms rubbed with Aveeno lotion; she truly appreciates me remembering to do this for her without her asking me.  She enjoys the love and caring she feels so I try hard to remember to warm my hands prior to rolling up her sleeves and to be gentle with mom as her arms are extremely thin and fragile.

Ron wheeled mom down the hall towards the activity room.  Mom said, “He’s already seen that room.  Pass the room and let’s go down the hall by those chairs.” 

“Mom, we have never gone to sit at those chairs before.”

“I think we’ll be more comfortable,” mom commented.  I just smiled and continued walking down the hall.  Something was different about mom, she actually seems like she is feeling so much better.  She is definitely more coherent.

Ron said, “Mom, did you hear about the Pope?”

“Yes, what’s up with that?  Did he die?”

Ron explained to mom that the Pope sort of retired; he filled mom in on all the details and she listened intently.  Mom was always a religious person so I was not surprised by her interest.

 

I mentioned to mom that we had been to a funeral in the family and that one of our 57 year old cousins passed away from melanoma.  Mom shook her head, “So sad.” 

Mom asked, “How is Phyllis doing and her son?” We talked about them both for awhile and their present health condition. 

I also mentioned that Marion is turning 90 in April.  She smiled, “Oh yeah, that’s great.  How’s he doing?”  I informed mom that Jean is taking great care of him, but that he has been in the hospital a few times.

Then mom popped up with, “How old am I?” 

“You are a young 86.”

“Julienne, I lived longer than most.”

“You are right mom.”

“Julienne, tell me what I am supposed to say to God.”

“Mom, when God is ready for you He will come you do not have to worry.”

“And I will follow Him?” mom stated.  I thought to myself now where did this come from.

“OK, mom, when He comes, you can follow Him.”

“Julienne, write that on my book. So I can remember what you said when you are gone.”

I picked up mom’s book there was very little room to write anything on the back or front of the book.  I said the words as I wrote them, “The Lord when He is ready He will come to get me.”

 

Mom stated again, “and I will follow Him”.

 

 

“Yes, mom, I will add ‘and I will follow Him”.

“How come sometimes I can talk and sometimes I can’t?” mom said earnestly.

“You have a great question; I do not have a good answer.  I wish you could always talk so I could understand you.  Today is fantastic.”

“God bless you both.  Thank you for visiting me.”

“God bless you, too, mom.”

“God bless us everyone; even our enemies,” mom shouted.

“Mom, Tiny Tim said that first,” Ron said jokingly.

“Who is Tiny Tim?”  Mom was confused.  Ron told the story about Scooge, Bob Cratchit, and Tiny Tim.  Mom did not remember the story.

“OK, go! You both were here long enough.”

 

All three of us held hands and prayed.   Mom did not hesitate; she could say every single word of the ‘Our Father’ right along with us.

Mom’s mood was one of the best we have seen her in a long time. These past two weeks mom’s speech and clarity has enormously improved.  No one can figure out what is happening but to say that dementia can be a roller coaster.  We are riding this coaster with mom right now and enjoying the good times we are experiencing.

Lady Luck

 

On my last visit, I found mom’s floor quarantined.  The flu seems to have found its way back up to their floor. On Monday, they had five residents down who were experiencing flu systems including mom’s close friend, Darlene. When there are only a few residents with flu systems, those residents are confined to their room. Fortunately, mom was feeling good.

 

Just as I saw mom, Shirley* was starting to wheel residents into the activity room.  Mom was energetic and smiling when I noticed her.

 

Mom said enthusiastically, “Julienne, want to play Bingo.”

 

“I would love too.  Last time I brought you a little luck.”

 

Mom wanted me to seat her right next to Shirley* where she normally sits.

 

Shirley* said, “Your mom is doing great again. She does not need my help lately, but she still likes to sit near me.  It’s OK.   Right, Gilda?”

 

“Right!” mom smiled and shook her head.

 

Mom’s eyesight seems to be good again. And she is mentally alert. She definitely did not need any help from Shirley* or me.

 

Mom came close to winning the first game several different ways, but lost.  The second game mom won.  Shirley* brings a bag filled with items that they are allowed to pick from most of the items are candy, crackers, or cookies. 

Mom said, “I want a Kit Kat.”

 

Shirley* handed mom her KitKat; mom handed the candy bar to me to open.   “Let’s share.”  Mom said forgetting that I am allergic to chocolate.

 

“Mom, you can eat the KitKat; I am allergic to chocolate.”

 

“Oh, no, I would have picked something else.”

“Thanks, mom, I do not want any candy.”

 

“If I win again, you pick.”  

A few games later mom won again.  She was so thrilled.

 

“Julienne, you pick.”   Shirley* gave us a hand full of wrapped mints.  Mom and I eat had one; I slipped the rest in mom’s sweater for her for later.

 

 

The odds for mom to win in Bingo today were stacked because of so many other residents were sick in their beds.  They normally have ten to twelve residents playing Bingo, today there was only five.

 

When I left mom was happy that we played Bingo together again.  She was so proud of herself.  I was amazed that mom is speaking clearly and able to do things on her own again.  I do not understand it, but I enjoyed the day with mom.

 

On my way out, I stopped to talk with Dana* mom’s hospice nurse.  She said, “You have to be so happy.  Your mother is speaking clearly.”

 

“I am pleased and surprised.”

“Let’s just enjoy her while it lasts.”

 

 

180 Degrees Turnaround

When I saw mom today she was sitting in the lunch room with her stripped multi-colored terry cloth bib on, waiting for her lunch.  I was amazed at how remarkably great she looked.   I went at a perfect time to help mom eat.  As soon as she saw me today she smiled, “Julienne, are you going to eat with me.” 

“Yes, I will sit and help you eat if you need any help mom.”

 

“I have a taste for a hamburger.”

 

“Is that what you chose for lunch today?”

“No . . .   fish.  I want McDonalds.”

 

“Would you like me to go to McDonalds and buy you a cheeseburger?”

“Yes  . . .  hurry.”  Since mom never has a taste for anything I was happy to honor her request.

 

I spoke to her aide, Laurie*, to let her know that mom would not be eating their food.  As always she is so willing to please their residents.  I assured her that I would be back as quickly as possible so mom could eat while everyone else was eating.

 

Fifteen minutes later I returned, mom anxiously said, “What happened  . . . you were gone forever!   I don’t even feel  . . . like eating now.”

 

I find with mom that I should not disagree with her because she truly only sees her point of view when she is feeling this way.  I could tell mom was having a tough morning.  Her mental state was definitely imbalanced. 

 

So I wheeled mom into the small lunch room where they prefer you eat when you bring outside food in.  I unwrapped her food and set everything in front of her as if she had never told me she did not want to eat now.

 

Mom commented, “I wanted  . . . cheeseburger  . . . for my last meal”

 

“Is this your last supper?”

 

“This probably  . . . last time we eat together.”

 

“Really, then I am glad I went and bought you a double cheeseburger and fries, too,” trying to add some light to a very tiring subject with mom.

 

“I think  . . . Sunday.”

Mom’s comments sometimes leave me speechless as I have heard this so many times before.

 

Although mom’s hand shook very much, she needed no help today eating.  She enjoyed her cheeseburger, fries and a root beer.  She ate every last bite.  When I could see she had only one bite left I asked her how her cheeseburger tasted.

 

She commented, “So anxious  . . .  I could throw up.” 

 

There were four other people in this lunch room who were regulars.  A husband feeding his wife and another daughter feeding her mother; neither the wife nor the mother could speak or had any physical movement.  They had to be spoon fed by their respective family.  I have seen both the husband and the daughter feeding their relative on a regular basis.  

The room had soft music on in the background. Mom’s voice seemed unusually loud in her anxious state.   She was complaining about everyone at The Community* calling them liars and saying they are trying to hide things from her.  I actually think most of the staff is tired of hearing mom talk about dying and why God has not taken her yet.  I know that mom has a tendency to become paranoid; she believes people are talking about her.  Sticking up for the people or trying to convince her that she is mistaken never works so I tried to be understanding, listen to her frustration while trying to calm her down.  Mom became angry talking about them and at one point even swore. 

 

 

“Mom, God becomes so disappointed in us when we swear.” 

 

Mom became quiet.

 

I wheeled mom out away from people as soon as she finished feeling embarrassed and bad for the other people in the room who obviously heard some of our conversation if not all.  Before leaving this lunch room, I apologized to the woman who was feeding her mother at our table who told me no apology was needed.  

“Julienne, no one  . . . heard me swear.”

 

“Mom, you could have heard a pin drop in that room.  You and I were the only ones talking.  No one wants to hear you swear.”

 

Mom lowered her head commenting, “God  . . .  forgive me.”

 

Up to this point, I was screaming and shouting inside feeling like her being chemically imbalanced today was making me anxious. 

Mom said, “Let’s pray.”

 

“Good idea, we both could use some spiritual help here.” 

 

Just then one of mom’s favorite people popped up, Rosalie*, the hospice chaplain.  Mom made a 180 degree turnaround.  The joy in mom’s eyes was incredible;   I had to experience the transformation to believe it.  I told her that mom had wanted to pray.  Rosalie* said, “God answered your prayer, Miss Gilda.  I am here to pray with you and your daughter.”  She began to pray a special prayer designed for mom and all of mom’s children. 

 

When Rosalie* finished mom said, “You bring  . . . me joy.”

 

Rosalie* asked mom what she ate for lunch. 

 

“I had  . . . double cheeseburger  . . .  delicious.”

 

“How did you get the McDonalds cheeseburger?”

 

Mom said proudly, “My daughter . . . she went out.”

 

Rosalie spent quite awhile with us the entire time holding on to mom’s hands.  Mom mentioned to Rosalie* about wanting to go to God.  Rosalie* commented, “Miss Gilda, you know when God’s ready for you He’ll come.”   The whole while she was there mom could not have been happier.  She was able to make mom laugh out loud many times.

 

 At one point I asked mom if she would like a photo with Rosalie*.  Mom said, “Yes, definitely.”

I took a photo of them; they both loved their photo.

 

 

“My daughter  . . . takes a lot of photos.  You should see.”

 

Then mom asked me if someone could take a photo of all three of us.  So I was able to make that happen too.  Laurie* was only too happy to assist.

 

Mom hugged Rosalie* several times before letting her leave.   Rosalie* promised to visit her again next week.

 

Ready to leave, I wheeled mom to around the nurses’ station and asked her who she would like to be next to today.  Mom pointed and said, “My girlfriends”.   She proceeded to introduce me to three ladies who I have known for several months.  I smiled and greeted them.  Then mom said, “Tell them  . . .  nice to meet you.”  So I did.

 

Before I left she saw Laurie* again and said, “I want picture  . . . Laurie*.”  So Laurie* came over and I took their photo.  I showed them both the photos and they loved them, too.

 

 

Laurie* stayed talking to us both.  I pulled out a blue raspberry sucker out of my purse. “Mom, the last time I was here you asked me to bring you a sucker.  Would you like me to open it for you?”

 

“Yes,” mom popped her sucker in her mouth as quick as I removed the wrapper.  “Do I look silly with this in my mouth?”

 

Laurie* said, “No, but everyone will be jealous.”

 

 

“Julienne, do you have more?”

 

“Not with me, but I can bring you more.”  Mom shook her head no.

 

Mom looked at me, and said, “Julienne  . . . I had  . . . perfect day.”

 

“Me, too, mom.”

 

Who would have guessed this day would turn out to be a nice one?