Monday morning was a good morning. The sun was shining, Noodle was being a great almost four year old, getting dressed with NO complications and jumping around the house in a good way. Maxwell was talking in the back seat of the car, Steve Harvey played "Just to Be Close to You" as his brown liquor song of the day, and Nala didn't even ask me to turn the radio station as I sang along doing my best Lionel Richie imitation, twang and all.
Yes, it was a good day. A far cry from the weekend.
You see, that past Friday the unthinkable happened. The AC Adapter to our computer died, therefore rendering our computer a useless, non-energized mess. It happened suddenly while I was lurking on the LBT board (Lapbandtalk.com). The screen went darker. I checked to see if it was plugged in and it was. I knew we were in trouble.
I called Tim.
I informed him the cord was in peril. I heard the nervousness in his voice. He stated he would go to the same place he went to the last time this happened. I agreed, hung up the telephone and put the computer away.
Tim came home later than usual as he had gone forging for the precious cord. He comes in to his theme music, Nala cheering "yeah, daddy's home" , Max shrieking showing all of his seven teeth in various stages of growth from his little pink gums and my romantic cry of "did you get it?"
Tim greets Nala with a hug and calls in to me "Nope, I didn't get."
All activity stops in the house. I believe the Backyardigans stopped singing. Max stopped showing his teeth. Nala stopped jumping up and down.
"What do you mean you didn't get it? They didn't have it?"
"I didn't get it on principal."
Funny thing about standing on principal. Not that I haven't done it on occasion but I am reminded of what I once told my mom about standing on principal. Standing
on principal is like standing on Jello. Sure you COULD do it, but its easy to fall off, its messy and whats the point?
I remain calm. "And what principal are we standing on?"
"It was $75.00. I ordered it on line for $39.00. With shipping" he adds as if reading my mind.
Given our finances I realized this was Jello worth squishing.
"Are they smokin'? Well, the other one will be here soon. If you can help me find the black electrical tape, perhaps I can fix it."
We both laugh because we know nothing is ever found in this house. The truth is, I would make a much better housewife if I didn't have kids to take care of, but that's another story all together.
Tim is taking this surprisingly well. He goes as far to say "well, maybe a weekend without the computer is not the worse thing in the world" or something to that effect. I start to check his neck for the tell tale white dot on the back of his neck to see if my husband has been abducted and then replaced by aliens, but I refrain.
So began our journey for a no computer weekend.
It started out well enough. It was Friday night and we decided to grab a bite to eat and Nala asked could we get a movie. We found Scooby Doo and Barney and then realized that downstairs was uninhabitable, thanks to my cat not being able to find the litter box lately. I have to scrub, we can not go down there.
I have a brilliant idea. We don't have to go downstairs, the DVD player is portable! We can just hook it up in our room, climb in the bed and watch a movie. No go. I forgot Tim's television doesn't have room for any cables of any kind.
Visions of my throwing the television down and breaking it in the hopes of getting a new one start to race through my mind. It's already on its way out, and the fact that we can't hook a DVD player to it is making the trip to the door shorter.
Next option. What about Nala's portable DVD player.
"Mommy, it doesn't work, remember. Its on its last leg."
How does my three year old know something is on its last leg I don't know. But she still wants to see Scooby. Tim can't find the Play Station that he unhooked when we were moving furniture.
I put my mommy senses to work and find it. Now we are on our way.
The Play Station has other plans. It won't work. Tim unplugs it and tries again. It comes on but does not recognize Scooby, or any other DVD.
A long sigh and grunt comes from Nala. "I'm frustrated! I want to see Scooby Doo!"
I am proud that she used her words instead of crying and that she told us how she felt. I let her know. She didn't care. She just wanted the brown dog.
"I have an idea" Nala chimes up "We can watch on the computer!!"
I look at Tim, and he at me and I laugh.
"What are we, freakin' Amish! We can't even see a movie!!"
I think he may have started rambling on about not being able to update his fantasy team but I was not listening. I was too busy rolling around on the bed holding my ever shrinking stomach laughing. The tears began to roll mercilessly down my cheeks.
No one else saw the humor in this except Max who took the opportunity to give me open mouth, slobbery kisses and then bite my chin.
Lucky for us Scooby was on the regular channel at 9:00. Noodle watched Scooby and then headed off to bed.
Somehow, for better or for worse, we survived without the computer.
The weekend was good.
Tim and I actually talked. We all played. We slept. We communed. It was beautiful.
I kind of liked being Amish, but I was quickly ready to give it up when our friendly mail man rang the doorbell Monday afternoon with package in hand. I phoned Tim to tell him we had "gotten the goods" I heard the relief in his voice. We are now back on line.
Goodbye, our Amish existences. See you again at the next power outage.
The Message
In the past week I have had three consecutive conversations with my Grandma Ruth. So why is this even remotely significant? Grandmother's talk to their grandchildren all the time. I agree, but you see, Grandma passed away in June of 2005. She has come to me in dreams, but they aren't dreams. They are real conversations.
The first two times she appeared are a bit fuzzy, but the last time we talked it began as the last hospital scene that played out in real life. My sister, my niece and I stood around her bed and struggled to hear her speak. We told her not to talk, but she ignored us because she had something to say.
She told us to be good. To take care of each other and stick together. She told us she was ready to go.
As that scene played out in my dream, she appeared to me the picture of health wearing the blue dress she made to go to my uncle Rusty's wedding. It was a beautiful dress and she was sharp in it. She told me she was well, and that she thought Nala was beautiful, and how very handsome Maxwell was. She asked when were we having another baby and I told her we weren't sure. She laughed and said, "oh you will. You will have a boy."
And then she went on to say again that we had to stick together. I saw images of my dad and uncle, but then that was it. She said goodbye and I woke up.
I told my mom that she visited me. She wasn't surprised, she didn't ask me had I taken some unauthorized medication that morning. I told her all I could remember from our encounters and what did she make of it.
Her explanation was simple. She came to me because my dad and uncle are feuding and have not spoken to each other in over a year. My father told my mother just days before my visits that he had no intentions on going to the family reunion. My mother, frustrated by my dad's stubborness said "I give up. I'm not trying anymore."
I am the most sensitive one, according to my mother, therefore, Grandma came to me.
Once again, why me? Because my dad and his brother can't get along, I have to be haunted?
I think that must have been the point of Grandma's visits because she didn't return last night. But I am left with the message she gave as she lay on her death bed.
I am reminded of how stubborn both my dad and uncle can be. I am reminded of how death can bring about ugliness, how very easy it is to point fingers when feelings are hurt and words are spoken that should not have been.
What I have learned, however, after finding out about Bobby's death is we truly are not promised a tomorrow to make the phone call, to mend that fence, to pour ones heart out.
I don't know if I ever had serious intentions on contacting Bobby, but I must admit I always thought if I ever got around to it, it would always be an option. And now it is not. Like it or not, I regret not having that option.
I would hate for something to happen to either my dad or my uncle and have them live with the heavy burden of regret on their shoulders. It's easy to say you don't care what happens when the other person is breathing. It becomes an altogether different story when one ceases to exist.
It was good to see Grandma again, and I am going to do what she wants me to do. I am going to make sure my dad and uncle know what she wants them to do.
Be good. Take care of each other. Stick together.
Those seem like really simple things to do to me.
Until the next time,
your recovering fat girl
Mikki
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