I Want to Live Again; Please God, Let Me Live Again!

  Well, It has been two years since Mom passed and three years since Dad passed too. I am doing well and moving on.

I am at the stage where I want to move on and I feel like Jimmy Stewart on that bridge  in the  classic movie "It's A Wonderful Life."  After  George Bailey sees his life without him,  he runs back to the bridge yelling this..."I want to live, Please God, I want to live again." Remember that scene?  Here it is..  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u56OqFjs1dg



George Bailey pleads with God to let him live his life again.

 
It has been an interesting grief journey with the death of two parents. I have learned my heart is big and was broken into bits and I am strong enough to pick up the pieces and go on. I have to survive. I tried caregiving again this summer for a career with elderly people.  I got attached to one client who was dying of  brain cancer, and then died.  That was hard again.  The last gig was for someone with Alzheimer's who happened to live 120 yards from my folk's grave, which was in plain site.

   That did it.... too close for comfort for me! I decided I could not go on with caregiving for a job. I am spent, my bucket is full, I cannot take anymore death and heartbreak. I am still weary from it.

Now is the time to get my life in order, and keep moving on in a positive new direction with a new career with the living., not the dying.  I have had enough of death. It is what my parents want for me and I have to for my own health.

   Funny how one journeys through grief and the valley of death with their loved ones. It is a process, and it just takes time to feel good again like crossing over the bridge to returning to life again and living it..... just like George Bailey.  

Sentimental Journey Home

How often do you get to return to the house you grew up in after you have moved away and see it inside for the first time in 43 years?


1967





2013



I was given that chance last Weds in my hometown in Austin, Minnesota.  I moved away in 1970, but never forgot where I came from. I am the fourth generation to be born in Austin in my family. It's a lovely town!

Things had changed in the house and neighborhood since 1970, but the basement was the same as we left it, except for a wall color change. There was graffiti on the laundry room walls from my sister, Dad and brother in 1967 and 1968 still there!  Our dog Flicka's scratch marks from jumping on the laundry room door were still etched in there from 1968!

Dad's old yukky shower in the basement was still there!  Mom refused to clean it back in the 1960's.  I'd die if I had to shower in there today!

And, then there was my old bedroom, smaller than I remember and updated a little, but the wood flooring was restored like when I lived there after years of carpet was covering it from former owners. The new owner is updating much of the house and making changes.

Dad changing my little brother in 1968

Same spot today in 2013!

 

1968 Dad and I in the corner in the living room



Same corner in 2013

There were many dinners and goodbyes for my family in my hometown from folks who were really going to miss us. I remember moving day in January 1970 for Denver, Colorado. The house was empty, like someone had stolen everything. We bade goodbye to my grandparents, and I remember driving away and hearing them sobbing. It was heartbreaking.

The memories poured out in my mind seeing my house for the first time since January 1970. The birthdays, Christmases, the pets, the siblings, the parents, the grandparents.

The owner has remodeled the living room and taken out a wall between the formal dining room and kitchen to make it open concept. It was strange seeing the wall gone, the only thing that bothered me.

But, lots of memories in that kitchen!

1969 Mom, little bro, sis Julie and I making Christmas cookies



Same kitchen, changed slightly from blonde woodwork and painted ugly green by former owner 2013. New owner is trying to strip the paint off to make them blonde again!



Our house in 1970




Dodger and I at my old house in 2013!

They say you cannot go back, but this trip was healing for me, as I have dreamed about my old house since we left in 1970.  It was good to see the house again, and see how we lived in the 1960's here, and how small everything had gotten. When you are a kid, things look huge in your world and that is how you remember them.

YOUV'E COME A LONG WAY, BABY.... TO GET WHERE GOT TO TODAY!

I did come away with this: I have grown as a person and have been shaped by the places and people I have met since I left here at age 6. My late Mother would always ask "I wonder what life would have been like if we had stayed in Austin." Our lives would have been different that is for sure, but we wouldn't have been enriched with living around the country and experiencing hardship, joys, people, and places to shape who we are today.  Who knows?

Some people are lucky to live in one place all their lives, I always felt after moving around the country 6 times in 15 years.

But, it was a sentimental journey, a sentimental journey home!







The Adult Orphans Club

Well, we survived January, and my birthday where I turned 23. I was 24 last year and had a good birthday. I got taken out for an Irish dinner and had a good time by my friends who wished me well and helped me blow out candles on my cake with 23 candles!

Been doing Zumba lately and it is hard, and my left leg is tight and won't move, but getting better at it. I do it every other week, but tonight I did water aerobics.

My water aerobics instructor I have known since I was in college in the 1980's, and she became a member of the adult orphans club in one day; she lost BOTH parents on the same day on my birthday weekend. Gee, I thought I had it rough losing mine in one year, but Kathy's pain is harder than mine.

I didn't go to her parent's double funeral, but texted her and held back when she was ready to talk. Today she called me and we talked for about an hour and I listened. My friends did that for me when I needed it after losing my parents. Shared some of the things I learned and told it was okay to just stay in bed with the covers over your head for a day if you need to. I did that one day. Told her it was okay to be mad at God as he can take it.

Kathy and I both agreed that the funeral industry is for the birds. She spent nearly $14,000 for her parent's funerals in one week. And, she is now in debt.

We agreed the funeral industry has screwed people royally with what they do and how they charge to drain, display, drive and ditch the body. My parent's funerals came to nearly $20K, including the plots with the screw job by the funeral industry. In the old days before the screw job artists, you could just dig a hole and that was it. Now it is coffin, vault, vault liner, cost for digging a hole, getting a death certificate, etc. etc. cost, added cost, fees, and more horsemanure piled high to screw people. Costs more to die than be born. What is wrong with this picture? Plenty!

We used two different funeral places for both my parents, one was reasonable, and had personal service. The other took us to the cleaners with wanting $3k up front and they did a horrible job on my Mom's face and hair, to the point, she was unrecognizable for the price tag of $10K!! I should have not let my older brother buy their farm on the package as he was taken for a ride and he picked a tacky casket that had praying hands in the lid!  I about killed him when I found the cost of everything. My Swedish mother would have killed him too for that casket when she wanted just a plain, pine box. I did let the funeral director know how I felt afterwards and how he took us, and his attitude was "tough crap kid." Bastard!

Both funerals were held in the church instead of the junk of being displayed in the funeral home etc. That was the best way to go. But most funeral directors are shrewd bastards, if you ask me.



Mom teaching me how to swim in our Minnesota lake in 1968.
This is where I feel most at peace, in the water in this lake.





When I go, I just want to be cremated, and a little spread on my parent's yard, their grave and the rest of me dumped in my favorite lake in Minnesota so I can be free with the loons. That will be what I want. I don't want to be in a cemetery.





While I continue to make strides in recovering from losing my parents, getting on with my life, at least I can be there for a friend in need who is just going through the grief and initiation as the newest member of the Adult Orphans Club.  It's a club I wouldn't wish on anybody, but we all become members of it sometime in our lives.

Happy New Year!

Well, we survived 2012, and now it's 2013.

I went to the local casino and took in all the smoke and excitement of people playing the slots. Didn't play any slots, just people watched. Many of the people looked like they had those Elvis black velvet pictures hanging in their houses with the black lights. It was interesting to people watch, one lady in a walker nearly ran me down in an aisle. And, nobody was winning anything, those native-Americans who run the casino laughing all the way to the bank!

Casino people are smoking people and have Elvis pictures at home!

We got party hats and little horns and then the free champagne came out. Little did I know it was Brut "Fre."  Non-alcoholic!  Yuk!  Brut with no poop! My buddy and I were there and took it all in, many drinks of the non-alcoholic bubbly and didn't get hangovers.

My resolution for New Years is to lose weight. I have gained some since my folks died, and it's from the grief.  Now that it is subsiding, I need to drop some pounds.

So I decided, since I work at a hospital gym, I am going to take ZUMBA!!!

Come on Jimmy, lift those legs and arms!

What did I get into the other night?  AH MY GAD! 

It was fast, I mean, REALLY fast! Jimmy about died!  Heart rate up, sweat everywhere, dancing, going crazy! Women around me were fast, and I was like a bloated duck.

I got a cramp in my leg, then another in my side, and then kept going while drinking water.

I found you have to stretch before you do this class, who knew? 

Next week I am going to try again, but stretch.  I have stuck to my resolution, what is yours?

God Jul!

God Jul!  It means Merry Christmas in Swedish, which I am.. 

This year, I managed to get a big tree, a white pine and put it up. I integrated what ornaments I inherited with the ones I had from Denver for 15 years. Dodger helped put it up with his paws.

I continued the tradition of putting boughs on the family piano, and blue silver bell lights my Mom had bought at a Scandinavian Christmas store in Georgetown, Colorado in 1970 when we first moved there to Denver. I baked Swedish cardamon bread, spritz cookies, 95 proof fruitcake, Swedish tea rings, my Swedish grandmother's Swedish meatballs, and my German grandmother's date pinwheel cookies.

While making Swedish coffee bread, I couldn't remember how to braid it, and thought of calling my Mom for help. I realized I couldn't anymore and had forgotten. I did find her braiding it in an old home movie on video, which helped me. Good to see her again.

That made me miss the folks more. I was bummed a few weeks after putting out the outdoor lights, and thinking of how lonely Christmas would be this year again without them.

For the past two Christmases, I could not listen to the CD recordings of the folk's singing and past Christmases recorded I compiled on a CD with favorite carols included on it. But, I played it many times this week, and laughed at the sound of my folks at Christmases past, and the love that came out of hearing them talk and sing again, just as if they were alive still. My mother is heard on a scratchy 78 recording singing a solo "O Come Unto Me" with the very same piano I inherited.  She had a beautiful singing voice. Then there is a tape recording of the whole family at the piano singing "Silent Night" to our grandparents on the phone who couldn't come for Christmas in 1978 because of aging health.

I soon realized, I was fine. Grief is less and less. And, I am not sad this Christmas. I can go on! 

But the nicest thing this year was inheriting the family manger scene.

Mom and Dad bought it in downtown Minneapolis at Dayton’s department store in 1965. It has graced the bottom of all our Christmas trees and moved wherever we lived across the country. It has a music box in it that plays “Silent Night.” My favorite figurines in the manger were always the sheep, donkey, cow and the angel proclaiming “Gloria in Excelsis Deo!”

We’d play for hours with it, trying not to break anything, and re-creating the birth of Jesus, and all the people who came to see him under the star in Bethlehem, which would be a large, hot, C7 bulb on a branch above. Our manger became lost for several years when we moved to Green Bay, tucked in a box somewhere in the the midst of the others the movers had packed. My little brother, Jordan, decided to build a new one based on his memory.

He ended up building three larger sets so my siblings could all each have one like the original in their own homes. I helped him glue the straw to the roofs. One Christmas, while rummaging in the basement, Dad found the original manger scene at last. It then returned to its traditional spot under the tree. This year will be hard moving on without my folks at Christmas again but I am doing better than the last two.

But... I have the wonderful memory of their undying love and all the Christmases past with the manger scene under my own tree this year. —

Merry Christmas to you, and all! 

Swedish Spritz Christmas Cookies!

Woke up feeling Swedish today. I am half Swedish, from my full blooded Swedish-American mother, but think and relate Swedish instead of German or Bohemian, which are the other half of me from Dad. Christmas is very important to us Swedes. We celebrate it for 30 days! Dec 13th-Jan 13th, which is my birthday.

I had a Swedish Lodge meeting tonight I had to go to, always fun to meet with the local folks. So, I thought I'd make something Swedish for that and Christmas. With the weight gain of 45 lbs from  caregiving and grief, I am not going to be eating these babies!

The easiest thing to make today was Swedish Spritz cookies. They are a Swedish tradition from the old country.

I bought a pound of butter from Qwik Trip gas station, where it is always $1.99. Picked up eggs too for $. 99.

Got out Mom's Mixmaster, a model I had gotten her a few years ago, it's heavy duty for mixing. Softened the butter for a while in the bowl.

Of course, I was using the best cookbook ever made, the 1950 Betty Crocker Picture edition. This is a reprint I purchased several years ago.

Here is the recipe, still the best, it uses almond extract. I always put in extra.

Next came the assembling the materials, the cooky dough press, the cooky sheets.

Then came the final mixing up. I wanted it pliable to press onto the sheets.

Pressing them out of the cooky press was easy, but sometimes I had a few that ended up in the bowl to get reused again. If the dough gets too warm, you can chill it in the fridge for a while.

After I pressed them out on the sheets, I decorated them with colored sugar, just simple green and a pinch of red.

Then, into the oven they went at 400 degrees on an ungreased cooky sheet until golden brown.

Out they came and on to the cooling racks.

And, they looked so good when cooled before being packed up.

I made a double batch.

Butter cookies are easy to make and you have to be careful not to overmix the dough, or it will be hard when it bakes. You want them light as a feather.

NO CALORIES at all in these!

Did you know that gold angel chime thingy is Swedish too?  True!

At the Swedish Lodge, these were eaten with strong coffee, and that is why I am writing this post, I AM WIRED ON SWEDISH COFFEE and some of these cookies.

Advent has started, and I have my advent wreath on my table for devotions too at night before bed. Many Swedes have the electric inverted V shape ones in their windows.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed seeing how Spritz are made.

God Jul!

Golden Inheritance



Dodger in a motel with me in September.



My Mom loved golden retrievers, and raised a few of them. She blogged about them and wished for a new dog, another golden she could have in her old age. After having my first golden in college,  I shared her love for them too. While living in Denver all those years afterwards, I would just melt every time I would see a golden puppy or people walking their goldens on the sidewalk. To have one to pet and talk to for a few moments would make a "golden day." They are great therapy dogs. My sister Julie's kid, my middle nephew Jordan, would crack me up when he was little when he would call our first golden named Shyre, "a golden treever."

Dodger had been abused in a group home by the residents and then brought back to the breeder where we found him.  How could anybody do that to a dog like Dodger?

Dodger came to us via rescue, and moved right in like he had been with us for a long time. He loved Mom and he loved Dad and enriched their lives until they both passed away.

He became my golden inheritance after that.



Dodger working the crowd on a boat in Door County this summer.

 Dodger has kept me going since both parents went to their reward. I don't know what I would do without my golden companion with the grief journey I have been on.  God had it planned that I would have this dog to aid in my recovery from losing my parents. I am certain of it.



Dodger loving up my dinner guests last week.  They just hate him, can you tell. :)

 He has been there when the waves of grief have hit, he is a great comforter, and loves the attention and love I give him. He gives me unconditional love.  He puts on a sad show when I leave for work, and he is there in the front window watching me go, and gives me that look.   I love when I come home from work, and he is there at the back door to greet me all excited.


Come'on Jimmy, hurry up and help me find my friend Mr. Woodchuck!

 We go for walks everyday in the woods, on the trails, or beach. I have to laugh when we run into other critters. We have already had a mother deer walk along side us a few times, thinking Dodger is one of her babies. I mean, THREE FEET away walking along side us!  People pointed and shouted "you have a deer walking with you!"  "What deer?" I'd reply with a grin.  Perhaps it is Dodger's fluffy tail in the air that resembles a deer tail that attracts deer? We have walked with a large black-grey woodchuck (groundhog) in front of us about 2 feet away on a trail that Dodger thought was a puppy. Mr. Woodchuck was very cute, and very tame with Dodger sniffing his face and wagging his tail out of curiosity.  He didn't mind us walking with him until he went back into the marsh.  Again, witnessed by people near us with their mouths gaping open. I consider it a blessing.

He plays ball, but then won't bring it back to you and plays keep away, living up to the name, Dodger. In the morning, I wake up with 85lbs of golden on my bed snuggling up to me to keep me warm when he has slept on the floor all night. When he has to go out, he dances for me in a circle, or nudges my hand with his snout. Vacuuming pet hair is not a problem when you collect old Hoover Convertible uprights.

He is funny,  loves people and attention. And, my friends notice if I leave a room, he watches his pet parent carefully. My five year old niece adores him. And, I cannot count how many tennis balls are around the house or missing. His favorite game is to put one under a bed, or chair or the couch and come get me to get it for him. Cute... huh?

Dodge and I go on car trips together, and I love when he is fast asleep in the backseat on his back with his 4 legs in the air in the car. It is funny when he sees milking cows or horses; he thinks they are BIG DOGS and starts barking like crazy.  He is getting a little grey on his snout now for only a fellow of 6 years old and has not been fixed yet. No need to worry, he never gets humpy on anyone.  

I worry about him sometimes, his ears get constantly irritated and I have to clean them with Q-tips and then put Tressaderm drops in from the Vet. He lays back and trusts me to do it gently. Same goes when he is brushed or given a bath. He is easy to feed, Purina Dog Chow, water, and an occasional Milk Bone, which he dances for.  In fact, in a vet's office, he lays back and relaxes. Mello Dog.

Dodger working the people on the boat again.

He watches me play the piano or cuss when I cannot get the notes right. And, he goes where ever I go, to church, running errands, visiting people at rest homes or people on the sidewalk during walks, or visiting other friends I have. They adore him, kids on the street love him too and he lays at their feet. His latest thing, is following me into the bathroom to lay down to keep me company on the commode. That is weird. I suppose he got that from the group home residents? He is not very co-dependant, but just does funny things to let me know he loves me.

Yes, God had it planned for us to have Dodger. I firmly believe it and give thanks each day for my golden inheritance. Thanks God, and Mom and Dad. 

Survived the 1st Year Anniversary!

I didn't know how the day of my Mom's death anniversary would be. I wanted to avoid it, but instead, I celebrated it by celebrating my Mom. A Swedish Lutheran pastor friend of mine in Denver wrote a nice email to me to please take care of myself that day, and "grieve appropriately."  I did.

I placed a memorial in the paper to appear on the anniversary day in the local paper. I included the Swedish hymn "Children of the Heavenly Father" we sang at her funeral. A Lutheran chaplain at Mayo Clinic sang that to Mom when she went into ICU the morning before she passed the next day.

I picked up a gladiola (Mom's favorite flower), and a candle.  I went to my folks grave with Dodger, and I read the memorial, sang a few bars of the Student Prince Drinking song we played at her burial, then hummed the tune to "Children of the Heavenly Father."  Lit the candle, gave thanks to God for my parents and Mom, then toasted her with a glass (2 large ones actually at 9 am!) of wine. Dodger about burned his tail on the candle as I wiped my eyes from tears that needed to come out. He was in my lap comforting me.

I felt SO much better after all that!  It was healing from the grief of loss.

Sent a scanned copy of Mom's memorial to my siblings and posted it on Facebook. Nice feedback on Facebook including some from relatives across the land, and friends. One younger sibling disapproved of it and proceeded to email me how I should be not grieving and be a big boy, and stop doing what I did.

Told him to "go piss up a rope" like my Mom would tell someone when annoyed. No other response from the other two siblings in the family. But, I was emailed by older sibling to "get out of the tomb" several days beforehand. Not what one needs to hear when recovering.

I decided to get out of town, and went to Madison, Wis., to a La Quinta hotel because they allow dogs. I had a good time down there exploring the city and lakes. Felt like Denver a little. Good to get away. It was funny watching Dodger ride a hotel elevator for the first time. He got the hang of it, and loved sleeping on the hotel beds! Silly puppy!

Don't you love it when you are grieving and someone tells you how you shouldn't be acting or tells you how you should be? Like they are the grief experts in psychiatry? It annoys me. I realize I am better than I was, but my grief will take time I have learned from grief books, and pastoral care.

My grief is different from my siblings because I was in the caregiver role, and they don't understand that role because they were not here to help and live far away. They don't understand the bond one has when caregiving for someone, especially your parents you are looking after.

We caregivers experience another unique loss- that of purpose with our charge we are taking care of after they die. That's why so many caregivers go into depression after the loss of the family member they were caregiving for. To deal with this other loss, some caregivers even take jobs at caregiver places, or hospices, I am told. I might consider that.

Onward and upward. I am doing much better since the anniversary, and feeling better about a future.
I have learned much about myself and doing caregiving which I was not sure I could do. It is all a process.

No regrets!  I'd do it all over again.

1st Anniversary of Mom's Death

Been a while since I wrote last. Summer was fun, green and beautiful. Managed to plant a garden, get to the lake and work some hours. Been holding together relatively well, Dodger has been keeping me together. I'm even trying to figure where I am going in life in the future to move on.

We got Mom and Dad's house sold, I found the buyer, and my sister did an excellent job as executor to settle the estate.

But, now the first year comes up for Mom being gone in a week or so. September 25th. That was the worst day of my life last year.

Found myself with the wave of grief hitting last Monday. I had been doing so well for a while, and then, boom, it hit like a tidal wave again.

A letter came from Mayo Clinic with a questionnaire in it about Mom's care there where she died, since I was listed as my Mom's caregiver. I didn't want to deal with it, it just opened up the wound again. I filled it out, and then wrote a letter to supplement it because I was there for the whole week with her. After that I started to cry like a dopey kid. I realized I had just relived my mother's death all over again. Oh God, not again!  I thought I was through with all this instant replay and can go on?

So, I got an idea.  So, I did what my Mom would want me to do. I tore all the paper up, burned it in the backyard in the grill, and the deleted the letter on the computer. Then I drove to a nearby town and went to an outdoor restaurant and ordered a wine, and a LARGE Shrimp Cocktail like she liked.  I toasted the skyward heavens to my Mom and Dad. It helped.

That night I also opened the other mail I had missed. It was the fourth booklet from the church- the Stephen Ministers grief books they have sent throughout the year. I found my reaction that day is normal and they will hit like tidal waves off and on in the future. My crying is my healing, letting it all out.

I saw an old interview of Mae West talking to Dick Cavett about the death of her parents in one year in 1930. She said it took her three years to recover and get her life back from the grief. Wow, a tough broad like Mae West saying that, it helped me realize it just takes time and everyone is different on grief. Mae West recovered, and I will too.

This week they placed the Army plague at my parent's grave for my Dad. My little brother and I got that from the Dept of Veterans Affairs.  In my weekly ritual of watering the flowers at the grave, I took a picture. I saluted his plague, as he served in World War 2. 

It will just take time, and I am better than I was a year ago. I miss them terribly, but know, they are with me, and I have to go on.

onward and upward...

Happy Birthday Dodger!



Dodger and I at the beach

 Dodger, a male golden retriever, came to us from a lady whose husband was at the rest home with Dad. She found an ad in the paper listing him with other dogs for sale to good homes. She herself had a golden puppy, her son's dog, who Mom adored, and Dad responded to with his Alzhiemer's.

At first, my mother was leery of a male golden, she had her heart set on a female, full grown and wished for one like that. That night, she gave in, she said, "call the number and find out about the dog."  I did, and then Mom decided we should go out and look at him. It was June 2010.

When we arrived, I sat on the ground and Dodger walked right into my lap like he had known me forever. He bonded with Mom who decided she wanted him right there. Deb, the breeder, told us that Dodger had been in a group home and was abused there and brought back to her where his Dad and brother lived with other dogs and animals who she had taken in that were abused.

We went out to Fleet Farm and bought a cage and dog food etc. That night, I worried about if I could take care of a dog in addition to Mom and looking after Dad. I couldn't sleep as it was added responsibility, and I almost told Mom  forget it. But I am so glad I didn't now.



Mom holding Dodger two years ago in June 2010

 We got Dodger in the car, and he jumped in the back seat like he knew us for the ride to his new home. He fit right in, and Mom was so happy having Dodger. He was her fourth golden. There had been two females, a male puppy they gave up, and now Dodger. 

Dad and Dodger before Dad died a few weeks later


At the rest home, he worked, he knew how to say hello to the inmates there in wheelchairs and those confined to bed. He drew a lot a smiles. One lady who had not talked in years started talking to him and petted him. The staff was amazed. Dad responded to Dodger very well, and talked and smiled and petted him. I would give Dad his leash to hold and it would make Dad feel normal again. Mom's nickname for all her Goldens is "putzie." That is what I call Dodger too sometimes.



Mom and Dodger at Christmas 2010

 My little niece still loves to pull his tail, play fetch with him with her stuffed animals, and crawl, poke his eyes, and kick all over him. He adores her even with that going on at her young age.

At first, Dodge would fetch a ball and bring it back to you, but got lazy after that. Dodger came with some bad habits we had to break him of, drinking out of the toilet, and jumping up on the kitchen counter. He stopped when scolded. Smart dog. Mom loved him, and she had us put him in a dog kennel cage at night, something I was not happy with. He didn't need it. She wanted him to have his own space when he needed it.  In time, when we got to know him and trust him, he slept in my room at night, sometimes on my bed, which would make Mom yell if she walked in and caught him. Dodge went exploring a few times when Mom would let him out and forget him, and I would freak trying to find him, but he would be okay.

When Mom found out that Dad was in the last stages of Alzheimer's, she started wailing with tears, and Dodger lept up and put his paws around her neck and licked her face to comfort her. During the week Dad died, Dodger knew, and came and licked his hand while he lay dying. After Dad died, he kept Mom and I going for the next year with the grief, then Mom died in September 2011 unexpectedly at Mayo.  He was very close to my Mom, Bernice.
The neighbors had Dodger for the week we were at Mayo Clinic. When I arrived home without Mom,  Mrs.Nicholson said Dodger had been acting so strange since Sunday afternoon. He knew Mom died from 350 miles away. I took him to see her body at the church and he led me to her. He whimpered when he jumped up on the side of the coffin to see her. My heart broke.

Since Mom died and we sold her house and divided everything up, I became Dodger's master. He has kept me going during the times when the waves of grief hit. Just the other night, something hit me and I lost it, and Dodger was right there comforting me with his kisses and hug.



"I am still on your bed, Jimmy!"

 If there was any reward after caregiving, Dodger is my reward. He keeps me going and is my constant companion. We take walks everyday in a wooded park nearby the place I am renting. He watches me while I tend the yard and garden. He loves to say hello to people and loves kids and elderly people in rest homes. In the Frisbee golf park in Appleton, he loves to chase Frisbees and not give them back to the owners. On trails, he will wag his tail and gives that puppy wag tail greeting that melts most people.  The other day at Lake Michigan he became a sand puppy after rolling wet in the sand. Our tub became a sandbox after washing him. He is getting a little grey on the face, but still is a big puppy and loves his Jimmy.



Jimmy, I rolled with sand on your towel and shoes, being a sand PUPPY!

 Yes, he is a great dog and thanks to Mom, is the last thing I have of her to remember her by.

Anybody thinking of getting a dog while caregiving should consider a golden. It will help you with the stress and grief thereafter.