This is the weekend I meet my 2 sisters in NC and we head to my Mom's small hometown to spread her ashes around her headstone. We are planting daffodils I have yet to dig out of my back yard. And I bought some Iris bulbs to plant. Guess we'll have to plant them close to her headstone so they don't get mowed over by the groundskeepers.
My older sister feels like this should just be us girls, since the memorial service brought friends and family together to remember her life. I'm of two minds. I feel that we should warn my Mom's closest friend in her hometown to let her know we are coming rather than just calling her out of the blue, so she can make plans. And two days notice is better than day of notice, right?
Anyway, my Mom missed 23 years of North Carolina springs while living in the Alaskan Bush. It's appropriate that we embrace spring for her this year.
Miss you Mom.
Showing posts with label Alaskan Bush. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alaskan Bush. Show all posts
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Monday, August 20, 2012
I have a valid excuse this time...
My Mom had been fighting cancer since 2007. It metastasized in her lungs last fall. After two sessions of chemo, she called into the hospital because she felt horrible. And then spent several hours on IVs to get her electrolytes in-balance and re-hydrated, she and her oncologist agreed to stop the chemo.
So she focused on quality of life rather than quantity. And focused her energy on self publishing a novel and a slightly fictionalized memoir of the 23 years my family spent living in the Alaskan Bush, from the early 1960s to the early 1980s. I read about 100 pages of it before my life exploded this past summer. I also haven't read her novel. Any of them -- published or unpublished. It's like I am too close to her and them to be objective. And I feel bad about it. But I still haven't read them.
So, they are on my "to read" list. Whenever I stop reading the head-candy crap I've been able to focus on lately. Wonder why that is? Dog died. My Mom's dying. I can hear her gasping for breath right now as I'm writing this.
I'm waiting on my younger sister to come back here to my Mom's cabin tomorrow. I left a message on my older sister's answering machine. Guess I should call my brother-in-law and see if he can get her a message at work. Since I don't have that particular number.
I'm signing off and going to write my mid-afternoon pages, a la the Artist's Way now.
If I can focus on it, that is.
So she focused on quality of life rather than quantity. And focused her energy on self publishing a novel and a slightly fictionalized memoir of the 23 years my family spent living in the Alaskan Bush, from the early 1960s to the early 1980s. I read about 100 pages of it before my life exploded this past summer. I also haven't read her novel. Any of them -- published or unpublished. It's like I am too close to her and them to be objective. And I feel bad about it. But I still haven't read them.
So, they are on my "to read" list. Whenever I stop reading the head-candy crap I've been able to focus on lately. Wonder why that is? Dog died. My Mom's dying. I can hear her gasping for breath right now as I'm writing this.
I'm waiting on my younger sister to come back here to my Mom's cabin tomorrow. I left a message on my older sister's answering machine. Guess I should call my brother-in-law and see if he can get her a message at work. Since I don't have that particular number.
I'm signing off and going to write my mid-afternoon pages, a la the Artist's Way now.
If I can focus on it, that is.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Some background behind the name of this blog
I grew up in the Alaskan Bush in the 70s and early 80s, before the state took over all the school systems. My parents taught for the Bureau of Indian affairs for more than 20 years, from the early 60s to the early 80s.
I was raised in the Yukon-Kuskowim Delta, residing in various villages, though my family lived everywhere from Barrow to Bethel. Technically, I did too, but I didn't experience much as an egg.
Kimik is the Yu'pik word for dog. I only remember one husky named Kimik growing up, though my Mom says there were at least a couple before him.
Fast forward to the Blizzard of '93, when I was a senior in college. Not sure who-all remembers that blizzard which blanketed much of the east coast and brought life to a standstill. Imagine, a female cat escapes from the house and survives the storm by making sweet love with a wild tomcat. A couple of months later, I made the mistake of telling the owner of the slutty cat that I would take a kitten if he could not find anyone else. To someone trying to get rid of unwanted kittens, that means I just got rid of a kitten!
Of course I named the cat Kimik, because that's what my family always named pets. OK, it was the first choice of names. And it amused me to have a cat named "dog". Little did I know that cat would be the most dog-like cat I'd ever know. He was vocal, affectionate, & very jealous of other pets. And would sit on your lap basking in your attention for as long as you'd let him.
Just before I moved to the west coast in the spring of '94, I dropped Kimik and another cat off at my sister's house -- temporarily. She called me about a year later to say that I could no longer claim ownership, because she'd had them longer than I had by that time. The cats sent me a T-shirt when I had my salt water tank. You have to see the shirt to get the joke. I'll post it here, eventually.
It was years later, after my new dog, Scully*, and I moved in with her, her husband and three cats did I get tested and realize I was allergic to cats. I lived there for 3 miserable years, averaging a sinus infection about every 2-3 months.
And that's the abbreviated story behind A Cat Named Dog.
* She was named Scully because Kimik was still alive. You can't give the same name to two pets living at the same time.
I was raised in the Yukon-Kuskowim Delta, residing in various villages, though my family lived everywhere from Barrow to Bethel. Technically, I did too, but I didn't experience much as an egg.
Kimik is the Yu'pik word for dog. I only remember one husky named Kimik growing up, though my Mom says there were at least a couple before him.
Fast forward to the Blizzard of '93, when I was a senior in college. Not sure who-all remembers that blizzard which blanketed much of the east coast and brought life to a standstill. Imagine, a female cat escapes from the house and survives the storm by making sweet love with a wild tomcat. A couple of months later, I made the mistake of telling the owner of the slutty cat that I would take a kitten if he could not find anyone else. To someone trying to get rid of unwanted kittens, that means I just got rid of a kitten!
Of course I named the cat Kimik, because that's what my family always named pets. OK, it was the first choice of names. And it amused me to have a cat named "dog". Little did I know that cat would be the most dog-like cat I'd ever know. He was vocal, affectionate, & very jealous of other pets. And would sit on your lap basking in your attention for as long as you'd let him.
Just before I moved to the west coast in the spring of '94, I dropped Kimik and another cat off at my sister's house -- temporarily. She called me about a year later to say that I could no longer claim ownership, because she'd had them longer than I had by that time. The cats sent me a T-shirt when I had my salt water tank. You have to see the shirt to get the joke. I'll post it here, eventually.
It was years later, after my new dog, Scully*, and I moved in with her, her husband and three cats did I get tested and realize I was allergic to cats. I lived there for 3 miserable years, averaging a sinus infection about every 2-3 months.
And that's the abbreviated story behind A Cat Named Dog.
* She was named Scully because Kimik was still alive. You can't give the same name to two pets living at the same time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)