Sunday, October 19, 2014
So it ends. The life of the person who birthed me into this world, the person whose life I fought to save, for the past 17 months, has left this world. I must write the Eulogy for Mom, for her funeral, very soon. I've already written background-info for the priest (she's having a Roman Catholic Funeral). I've listed who she is "survived-by", and written a brief bio for the funeral home which handled her cremation, because they are posting that info, as well as announcements of the arrangements, etc., on their website for us. And now? The Eulogy.... How do I begin to describe Mom? Well, she was gorgeous: a dark-haired, doe-eyed Greek beauty, with olive skin and defiant, curly black hair. Hair she often despised, as she found it "unmanageable". I'd say her hair was like Mom: untamed, and un-tame-able, Mom lived her life by her own rules. She exited childhood and leapt quickly into marriage, a marriage that although it didn't last forever, lasted a good long while, a marriage that even Mom would later say was "a good, strong marriage". A marriage that provided her with two daughters who adored her. Mom was not afraid of hard work, or getting sweaty, or dirty. Her love of the gym, running, jogging, bicycling, and gardening, all delightful for her. In a word, "Work-out" describes Mom, because in addition to the obvious act of working-out, Mom gave us all a mental-workout, as she was always up-to-date on world events, and politics. She loved all things CNN, and MSNBC. Lived for Anderson Cooper, and Chris Matthews. "Meet the Press", and "Face the Nation". Mom was active in campaigning, too. I asked my sister, Tina, if she could name one word to describe Mom, what word would she use, and she immediately said: "forgiving", and, 'sacrifice', because she made sure we always had everything we needed..." Tina's correct. Mom's forgiving heart meant we could come to her, even if we'd made a mistake--unafraid, knowing we would be unconditionally LOVED...and her total commitment to providing for others may well have been her biggest flaw, in that she often neglected her own needs, choosing to help her family, no matter the cost. And Mom welcomed us with her faith, always. For me, a person who for decades did not have a sense of God, her patience and example of selflessness deeply affected me. Eventually, I returned to the Church, and Mom, then-employed by The Jewish Center in Dunwoody, Georgia, as I discussed my flourishing curiosity about all things spiritual, remarked "You know, Lisa, if I weren't Catholic, I'd be Jewish...I love the rituals, the food, and you know, Jesus was Jewish..." Shortly after Mom was diagnosed, she said her faith was strong, but she wondered if it was 'strong enough". I saw her whip through day after day, week after week, month after month, of Radiation Therapy, and the bi-monthly Chemotherapy, and the attendant acupuncture to improve her balance, the physical therapy to help her walk a bit, the extra supplements she had to swallow, often painfully, and I saw a woman, undeterred, determined, and brave. We attended Mass together, in Newnan. We saw Mom get stellar results from her treatments that as her physicians stated, "only 1% of cancer patients receive." And when times got tougher, she was able to find joy even in the darkest of moments, by painting, or attending a drum-circle session, playing Bingo, or enjoying gelato. One day when Mom was especially tired, the Chaplain at CTCA, Newnan, came by and left a book for us, outside our door. Knowing Mom needed her rest, I brought the book, entitled "Jesus Calling" inside, setting it on a table out of her sight, as she was already falling asleep. When she asked "Who was that?" I answered simply, "Why, it was Chaplain Lawanda, she brought "Jesus Calling". "Well, tell him I'm not ready", was her curt reply. Such was Mom. Inclusive, loving, always-quick-witted, and always there for us. Sunday before last, Mom was ready, and I watched her fly away to a place of peace. We Love You, Mom.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
On September 14th, hubby Hansoo and I received an early-morning call from the Rehabilitation Center in which both Mom--Demetra Allender, and Hansoo's Dad--Ho Chang Kwon, have been living. Mom has been there for over two months; "Appa Kwon" for only eight days. I remember fearing for both my husband, and for myself, and I admit to--with great shame-- feeling a prayer forming in my heart "Please don't let it be Mom." When I heard my husband say "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God." I knew that meant that my wonderful father-in-law, tiny Mr. Kwon, had passed away. "Appa K" was a funny, smart fellow with a quick smile, and an even quicker wit. Although he fought valiantly in the South Korean Army during the Korean War, it was the war of both prostate and bladder cancer, which took him. I was honored to have he and "Omma Kwon" come live with us, way back in September of 2010. I used to tread cautiously, because I knew there were generational, and cultural differences, and I knew that could (possibly) be a problem. I needn't have worried. "Appa K." treated me as if I were one of his own brood, and that means he held me accountable if he didn't like something, and he heaped generous praise on me if he loved something. What he hated: my "way" with our pampered doggies, "You're spoiling those dogs," he would say... What he loved: my cooking: soups, stews, and especially, my Greek Potatoes, and my Sour Cream Pound Cake... What I'll miss: His bright smile, inquisitive nature, political and spiritual discussions (we often disagreed, but he was always respectful), and his deep love for his family. My prayer is that "Omma K"--my sweet mother-in-law is able to find peace amongst all this grief. I'm so grateful to have had both of them, in my life. I plan on talking "Omma K" into taking a course with me, at Jo-Anne's or Michael's, as soon as she is able. Give the older adults in your life a hug today. And any older person you see today, give them a smile, and a kind word. Do it in honor of "Appa K". Peace, kids.
Sunday, June 01, 2014
And so our Mom--Demetra Allender--has had another Mother's Day with me, and another (milestone!) Birthday--75 as of the 28th of May! We are overjoyed to have her here, with us. And yet....sorrow is growing, over what may never be, again... Mom, running, exercising to the point of sweat and joy. Mom, walking. Mom, standing. While we continue to have great hope, and while we see beauty in Mom's new attitude of steroid-fueled strength, and balance, and confidence, aided by a new hair color (soft brown), we are bereft. Bereft of what was, and all the while, still quite grateful, for what is.... Peace, kids.
Wednesday, May 07, 2014
It was one year ago, today. "It's cancer, Lisa. I have cancer.", said our Mom, somewhat breathless, and I heard her, but immediately went into what is known as "denial mode". "What? That's not possible, Mom. I think you should get a second opinion..." My voice, and my belief that this was a "mistake", trailed off, into oblivion. So, here we are. My sis--Tina and I, her husband Tom, my husband Hansoo, and Mom--Demetra's lovely grand-daughter, Breaz, all shell-shocked from this. Traumatized, made numb. I must add that our Daddy--John Robert Allender--is also devastated by this diagnosis. Daddy is well aware of doctors, hospitals, and illness, having survived several heart attacks before finally quitting smoking (after a (temporarily) "fatal" heart attack, on January 17th, 2004), and having been diagnosed with Stage 5 Kidney Disease, last year, just a few months before Mom's diagnosis. Daddy and Mom have been divorced since 1986, which means they have been divorced just about as long as they were married....and still. Neither ever re-married, though both had numerous opportunities, and very interested partners. So, today is the Anniversary of Mom's diagnosis of cancer. But just as a divorce does not mean the end of Love, neither does cancer mean the end of Health. Mom is, in all other ways, healthy and bright, and beautiful as ever. We head to the facility and staff that helped us to get where we are today--with our living, breathing, loving Mom-- Cancer Treatment Centers of America, tomorrow, for Laser Surgery to shrink the tumors in her brain which have just now re-surfaced, and begun to grow. We will be successful, but it's tiring to hop into "treatment" mode when she believed she had finished up all this, last August. But cancer comes back, tries again. But we--we try, harder. Peace, kids.
Saturday, April 05, 2014
How many of us fantasize about "simpler times", or long for a chance to live in the (perceived-to-be-kinder) past? For a few decades now, Americans have been told by mental health professionals, pop psychologists like Dr. Phil, and especially by that former queen of TV--Oprah Winfrey-- that we can "re-invent ourselves". That there is much dignity in discovering WHO we can be, by slipping into an as-yet untried persona, by getting "outside[our]comfort zone". But what if we could re-invent ourselves by living in a place where time means another time, where living day-to-day means shedding our former selves, and all the hurt we've accrued as a result of our painful, in-the-moment, living? The premise for escaping to a place where one can re-invent oneself, is at the white-hot center of a remarkable new play, Maple and Vine, currently running at Actor's Express. A young urban couple who are dealing with a recent trauma, make the leap to living in the 1950's--not generic 1950's --but 1955, to be exact. It's 1955, everyday, always. An enterprising group affords them an opportunity where they can be fully present, by living in the past. Playwright Jordan Harrison has fashioned a stylish, stylized 1955, complete with gleaming, grinning, happy-homemakers and their steadfast, blue-collar husbands, coming home to their crab-puff-making ("...I know crab is exotic, but....everything is better with cream cheese...")wives. Director Kate Warner has truly seized the day (and time!) by casting a terrific ensemble that, at a recent Sunday matinee', had us laughing until it hurt. The fun thing about actually living in the past, is that both husband Ryu, (a poignant Michael Sung-Ho) and wife Katha, (an effervescent Kate Donadio) get to create a new history for themselves. It's not all fun-and-games, though, as 1955 reveals itself (how soon we forget!) to be less inclusive-- a place where secrets are held, and there is a code of denial, when secrets aren't secret, any longer. The repression is real, and palpable. Stunning interactions between Ryu, Katha, and Dean, (John Benzinger, with acting chops as a sharp as a fully-loaded .45), Roger/Omar (a tender Jeremy Harrison), Ellen/Jenna (a vulnerable, revelatory Tiffany Morgan) make this a "must-do" theatre event. Special notice must be made of the lighting (Mike Post), sound (Joseph P. Monaghan III--the music is captivating, effectively setting the tone for the play), and scene design (Isabel A. and Moriah Curley-Clay)that literally feels like a window into this 1955-world. Costume designer Sydney Roberts appears to have had great fun with this; the costumes (think early-"Mad Men") will make you want to play dress-up . I plan to see the show again, and think organizing a dress-like-1955-night would be genius.(Hint, hint, marketing department at Actor's Express). Maple and Vine runs for two more weeks at Actor's Express. Box Office: (404)607-7469, or order tickets online, www.actors-express.com. Please note this production contains brief nudity.
Thursday, March 06, 2014
It's cold and rainy and gray, and it's March and I'm missing our beloved Mom--Demetra. She was here for a few days, just five weeks ago, and before that, she was here for several months, but I miss her. I miss her. Mom is at the home shares with my beautiful, kind, sister and bro-in-law, and I know she prefers being home, in the warmth of south Florida, over the unpredictable weather here in north Georgia, but still, I miss her. I wonder sometimes how I will ever deal with the loss that all of us must face: that of forever losing a parent. I have been shy about even mouthing these words, as it hurts to even imagine such a scenario, yet nearly everyone currently in my life, has lost at least one parent, while my sister and I, are blessed with BOTH of our parents, living, and thriving, despite their harsh, individual, diagnoses...Sis and I are both also blessed with both of our "in-law-parents", too. I have been shy about mouthing these words, because in our American culture, denying death is something we do, every single day. We deny our death, our mortality. We all---perhaps especially me--live as though we have "forever" to accomplish tasks, to meet up with dear friends, to finish writing our play, or finish editing our two books of poems....I try to live by Carpe' Diem--I really do, but the inertia and I suppose--a kind of darkness that has swallowed me up over the past 15 months, has blunted my repeated attempts to feel...indeed, TO BE...productive. I'm hoping Mom will be back up here, before her follow-up in late April, with Cancer Treatment Centers of America. I know this for certain: I felt productive, caring for her. The poetry, was in the doing, in the loving act of cooking for her, assisting her with walking, laughing as we looked over old photographs, crying at the movies ("12 Years A Slave", which we saw shortly after it debuted at a nearby theatre), talking about our old beaus (mine, and hers!). The rain has stopped, but it's still not warm enough here for Mom, yet. I'll light a fire, until she comes back. Peace, kids.
Monday, March 03, 2014
Fulton County Animal Services: We're at it again! This time, we're taking 39 dogs...: We're at it again! This time, we're taking 39 dogs and 1 cat to rescue groups in Virginia and New Jersey! MANY volunteers helped u...