Oh dear.
It appears that my son may be growing up to be just like his Uncle Nathan.
If you don't have Facebook, and aren't friends with Nathan on it, sorry.
But if you saw Nathan's recent photo of him, in his kitchen at his computer, than this is hilarious. You get the idea.
If you're feeling left out, enjoy this gobstopping image. You can see the video over at my You Tube site (site link at your right).
Oh my goodness. Mendon, I know you'll find this funny, as Zits was sort of a 'thing' with you and Maman.
To see my future, click here.
And if you're not checking this on Monday, 11 February, scroll to the bottom and click on 11.
Our cell phone rang shortly after 2 a.m. I thought it was on the nightstand, so Mark wiped his hands over it and knocked my glass of water over, soaking his clothes. It turned out it was in my sweatshirt.
We called Mendon back, and he told us my mother was dead. We got dressed and ready to head over to my parents' home. I called Mendon again and told him to wait for us. We were there by 2:30.
Mendon and Kristen were the ones who had been on the night shift that night with my mother. I like to think that it was my mother's last gift to Mendon. It was hard for me not being there at night with her, but somehow, knowing Mendon was with her, made it okay for me.
My father was sitting next to my mother. He had checked that her heart had indeed stopped. It just came to me, but I stood over her body, whispering, "Ya Baha-ul-Abha" in her ear. It was heart-wrenching to realize that she was gone. Really, really gone. And yet, in that moment, in that little itty bitty moment, I felt joy for her.
We got a large bowl, filled it with warm water and rose water.
I read a prayer for the departed.
Some time in there a Hospice nurse came in. Apparently, she was rather amazed and impressed by the way we were all functioning. Not much for her to do, actually.
Rachael, Mendon, Nathan, Kristen, Papa and I washed her body as Aunt Cindy read the Tablet of Ahmad. Mark held Liam.
We each said our last good-byes to our dear mother (and wife and mother-in-law and grannie nannie).
We then dressed her in her silk gown, laid her in her shroud, each of us taking up needles with beautiful jewel-toned silk thread and stitched up the shroud. We inserted roses that had sat at the threshold of the Shrine of Baha'u'llah in Haifa. My sister embroidered my mother's initials, S C D, onto the shroud.
The funeral home came not too long after and took her body away.
There was nothing left to do. We sat. It sucked.
We went back to bed.
I will cherish that memory for the rest of my life.
Aw yeah... I should have done this ages ago. Friday night, after Mark had completed his mid-terms, I prepared to go to bed with Liam at 7:30 as usual. Nurse him in bed and go to sleep - can't leave him in the bed alone as we already had an 'incident'. But, I thought, Mark is done with mid-terms, he could put the baby to bed and stay with him. And he did, sort of. After an hour and a half of crying (by Liam), I went back into the room, nursed him and went to sleep.
On Saturday, I told Mark I thought we should do that again. Heheheh. Mark decided it was time for Liam to sleep in the crib.
AND HE DID.
At 8:58 pm he woke up crying. Mark and I started discussing how he would know the difference between being abandoned and crying when he needs something. By 9:03, however, Liam was asleep. 5 minutes. It could be beginners luck, but he slept the entire night in his crib. He did wake up a few times, fussed for a few minutes and went back to sleep. He also had poopy diapers - nothing you can do about that but change him. And twice I got him out of the crib (when he was fussing) because I needed him to nurse. We'll have to wean me before we wean him!
Somehow, when he woke up this morning I expected him to look different. Bigger, walking, more mature, something, I don't know. I felt so changed, I guess I expected him to be, too.
