Tag Archives: Nonogenarians

Nail Polish – The Marguerite Chronicles, July 23, 2016

09 Friday Dec 2016

Posted by in THE MARGUERITE CHRONICLES

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , ,

So, for once, I get my 96-year-old mama up, dressed, fed, medicated, and looking cute as a button for a trip to a funeral in Raleigh; and we’re actually gonna leave early rather than lat.  I place her at the kitchen table with instructions to stay put while I get dressed.

And while I’m dressing, she grabs a hot bottle of forbidden nail polish and sneaks out to the car with it.

I come down the stairs and out the door to find her painting her nails IN MY CAR, and she has spilled half the bottle down her very favorite dressy top.

I cuss, (which I rarely do) and yell “Dammit, Mama” while pulling the top off over her head, leaving her half nekkid in the car with Micah hiding his eyes in the back seat.

I rush inside for acetone, & pour it all over the shirt, but it’s like tinkling in the ocean. Not enough acetone in Virginia to break down that stuff. The top is permanently damaged. And our extra half hour plus 10 more minutes disappears.

I’m completely undone that I lost my patience with her, because I’ve promised myself that I won’t do that.

And then I think about the switching I’d have gotten for pulling such a trick in her lavender ’65 Bonneville Broagham with the purple satin seats and I’m glad I have not yet spilled a bottle of nail polish down my favorite shirt.

And when I do, I hope my sons will yell “Dammit, Mama” at me and not feel bad about it.

Choir Practice

05 Monday Dec 2016

Posted by in BETH'S STORIES, THE MARGUERITE CHRONICLES, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

THE MARGUERITE CHRONICLES, November 29, 2016:

I asked Mama if she wanted to go to worship rehearsal with me tonight. She looked confused. “Where?”

“CHOIR PRACTICE,” I translated, and yes, she wanted to go.

She enjoyed listening to us work out some Christmas music. But when it was over, she spoke to the pastor (aka drummer & guitar player) — the one who always gives her a hug and a kiss when he sees her — the one that’s her grandson — and said, “That blond-headed piano player you have up there has a piano at home, but she never practices. I think you need to get a new piano player, but don’t tell her I said so.”

Later, as I was putting her to bed, she piped up. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to mention to you. You don’t ever play the piano downstairs.” So, I explained that my seven-foot grand is in need of tuning & repair to the tune of about six grand, and since we’ve had house guests for about 6 months in our upstairs bedrooms, I’ve taken down the Yamaha P-150 electric piano to give the guests a little more living space. “Well. I knew you must’ve had a reason. I’m just glad to finally know what it is.” So, I musta hit a few octaves worth of wrong notes tonight for my own mama to tell her grandson to fire his only mama from a volunteer job!

BethStillSings Presents…

05 Monday Dec 2016

Posted by in BETH'S STORIES, THE MARGUERITE CHRONICLES, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

The Marguerite Chronicles

MARGUERITE ALICE CLARK was born April 14, 1920, in Drew, Mississippi.  There’s much to say about her remarkable life, so the Marguerite Chronicles are written for that purpose.

All my life, I’ve been told that my mother had ‘the best personality I’ve ever seen,’ and she ‘knows more about football than any woman I’ve ever known,’ and we always knew that the Mississippi Magnolia was a force to reckon with.   She’s now 96 years old, and I reckon with her every hour. Every day. And night. Sometimes, all night.

After our dad died in 2008, Marguerite (aka Memomma) went to live with my  sister Carole — #2 of the four girls in our family.  It was Carole’s plan to take care of Mama ~ and that’s what she did, for the rest of her life. On April 23, 2015, Carole came in from planting a few little herbs in her garden. She told Mama that she felt worse than she’d ever felt in her life, but instead of agreeing to go to the dreaded doctor — Carole hated doctors — she decided to take a shower and go to bed.  To our great shock, despair, and heartbreak,  my beloved big sister slipped into eternity that night.

After Carole’s death, Mama came to live with my husband and I.  I’m #3 out of the 4 daughters in our family  —   and The Marguerite Chronicles have evolved out of our our travels, adventures in eldercare,  and some crazy midnight wanderings.  Originally posted on facebook, the Chronicles have been read by friends and forwarded around the internet like viruses.  It’s my hope that anyone reading will get a glimpse into the world of parenting a parent, or feel some encouragement and get some motivation in their own roles as caregivers or friends of the elderly.  And I hope you will laugh, because if we don’t laugh, we’ll cry.

So, read on…I hope you’ll enjoy, and I’d love to hear from you at BethStillSings@gmail.com.

 

 

 

 

Edit

This is your very first post. Click the Edit link to modify or delete it, or start a new post. If you like, use this post to tell readers why you started this blog and what you plan to do with it.

post