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Showing posts from March, 2009

what if.....?

I have learned a lot about grief that I thought I already knew. It's stuff I tell people who are grieving - stuff like "There is no right way...everyone does it differently" and "Yes, it is normal to think you are going crazy". I read all this stuff in books and now for the second time in two years, I am facing it myself. I am an orphan. My grief over my mom didn't result in what most people might consider "normal grief"....a lot of crying, for example. Of course I cried but mostly I felt numb and like I was packed in cotton and sort of segregated from the rest of the world. I am sure my sister and brother experienced it differently too. I was okay with staying at my mom's house and getting rid of all her clothes right away. I was okay with speaking at the funeral. I went through the "what ifs" and "I should haves". What if we would have gotten her to a place that could provide more advanced care? I should have said more to

expired half and half

The first day I woke up at my mom's empty house without her, the cat was sitting there staring at me so I got up. When I looked at the half and half in the fridge I noted that it had expired the same day she did - March 10th. I poured it in my coffee anyway and did not see any clumps so I drank it and so far am okay. This small town is covered with snow - more than I have seen in a while, but not as much as there was a few weeks ago, according to the town folk. Today though, it is sunny and has warmed up to 40 degrees and some of it promises to melt. I went for a run this am and there is still snow and ice on many of the streets. But the air smells so good it is almost painful. Siggie made me scrambled eggs for breakfast and pepper bacon. It hasn't been bad staying alone at my mom's house with the cat, named simply "kitty". Poor kitty - she was my dad's cat and missed him when he died, but got to know my mom the last few years. She sleeps in mom's chair al

More comments about my mom

The following comments came from my mom's brother Jim, and his wife, Gaby. I will read these all at the funeral. When I think of your mother, my sister I can always remember a kind and loving person who would always think of others before herself. She was always willing to give to help others and was always there for everyone who needed her. I remember her working at the old Elmer Pantti's store and earning so little but always gave me a little change. I will always love her and never forget her. Love Jim I have something to say: Georgetta was always there for me when I married Jab and had my first born son (Ike). She always helped me with his first bath and other things. I never forgot the time when Ike had blood all over his crib sheet. I got so scared and called her. She came right over, I thought the blood was coming out of his ears, but she calmed down and let me know it was just a bloody nose. Another time , we were looking for Jab, so we went thru a high weed field,

My mom's obituary

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Our mother, grandmother, sister, aunt and friend Georgetta Bernice Maxfield Ojanen “shut ‘er down” one last time on Tuesday morning March 10th. She was 80 years old on the outside, but on the inside, she was still dancing. Georgetta was born in Rockland on October 19th, 1928, to James and Grace Maxfield, the third of 8 children. She graduated from Roger Clark High School with the class of 1946. She married Raymond S. Ojanen in 1948 instead of becoming a beautician and taking a trip to Venice as she had planned. Her main job was raising her kids until Ray got into an accident and she began working at Wager’s restaurant. She also worked at the Eagles club for many years. George had a lot of good friends and was a friend to everyone. She would have given anyone the shirt off her back. She often fed people who might have gone without if it wasn’t for her generosity. Once someone stole her TV set. She knew who had done it, but said “Well they must need it more than I do”. Many people have b

Comments from uncle boo about my mom

HI Donna, Just finished talking with you on the phone, and would like to add more good things about your Mom, When I was in high school, your Mom and Dad gave me the job of carrying in their firewood and dumping the ashes so I would have some spending money, Barb was just a babe at that time; As mentioned, they were good to Eliane and I when we first came back to the state, and Eliane live with them for while when I had to finish out my enlistment. It was a critical time in our life as we were just about broke and expecting a baby and I just got a job with Uppco and didn't have a house. Also in my early years in the Navy, she would allow me to call her collect, just to talk, as I never had enough money. There are so many good things to say, but to sum it all up, she was just a basically good person, and would share what she had with other, You three were fortunate to have her as your mother And yes, I broke down and cried when I hung up the phone after you called Boo

Wanda's letter

Dear Barbara, Donna, and Raymond, I am so sorry not to be with you at this sad time of the loss of your mother and my sister, but I know Georgetta and you understand. Georgetta was like a second mother to me, and when, I was growing up, sometimes I would pretend she was my mother because she was young like the mothers of my friends. On the first day of kindergarten, I had a rude awakening. I thought all the toys were for me, and I did not want to share. I guess I was suspended, for the teacher called my sister, who lived just across the street from the school. She had to come to take me home because I was unable to adjust. Thankfully, I was a fast learner, and that did not happen again. Even then, she was there for me. She was easy to talk with as I was growing up, and she understood me. I recall how happy I was to go to her house for lunch from school because she always had the best food. And on the way there, I would pick fights with Barbara the way Sandy and Gail used to fig

what I will miss most

My mom died yesterday morning. She had a massive stroke in the cerebral cortex of her brain. She went quickly without complaint and I reluctantly joined the group of adult children without parents. I have felt pretty numb the last few days but feel good that she did not suffer. The beauty of a small town hospital is that you can die around people who know you or you knew their parents. You don't have to die surrounded by people doing stuff to you that will yield more information but in the end you will still die but with a bigger hospital bill. The nurses asked us what we wanted to do. "Make her comfortable" we said. And they did. My sister and brother were there for most of that night and I was out here thinking about them. In the morning my sister held her cell phone to my unresponsive mom's ear. "I love you mom. You can go if you want to. You don't have to wait for me" I told her. She died peacefully a few hours later. A few weeks ago, we