Goat's Xmas Sermon

JamieDimonsBalls

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Puer tea tastes nothing like the tea you’ve been drinking. It’s an earthier taste - some say it’s like drinking straw that’s been sitting in horse manure for a month. The Golden Monkey and Yunnan Gold taste like a deeper but mellower version of English Breakfast. Incredibly smooth with no astringency.

drinking manure? Now we know why you aren’t in sales ;)
 

TheOriginalHappyGoat

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Shifting positive...

To me, yours is fundamentally a story of love and communication, also Christ’s basic message. Love, honesty and communication are the keys to happiness. Love returns love. Honesty enables one to be true to oneself and know others for who they are. Your parents loved you and now you return it to your mother.

Real tragedy is not growing up with love. That sad story is evident to varying degrees in certain people. Compassion for them may not change them but it keeps our hearts free.
I can't deny that I was lucky to grow up with love. Lots of problems in my family, like many others, but a lack of love was never one of them. I have tons of sympathy and compassion for those who didn't at least have that.
 

Hoopsdoc1978

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When I was a kid, we always had two Christmases. I'm sure a lot of families were like ours. The first Christmas was actually Christmas Eve. We'd gather around the tree in the early parts of the day, just Papa Goat, Mama Goat, Sister Goat, and me. We'd open a couple of presents early. Usually those presents were designed to give us some evening family activity. Maybe we got new stereos and listened to music together, or board games we could play that night while drinking warm apple cider. One glorious year, we got a Super Nintendo, which was quite the upgrade over our Atari 2600. My sister and I played Mario for hours, and then I squared off against Papa Goat with the first ever version of John Madden Football.

But then, we'd go to bed, and get up early the next morning, and drive to Ohio for second Christmas, or Real Christmas, as it were. The presents we didn't open would go with us, and be added to the large pile under the tree at Grandpa and Grandma Goat's house. A table in the middle of the living room would be set up with various snacks - bowls of M&Ms and mints and other candies, of course, but the star of the show was always the large bowl of unshelled nuts, with at least two nutcrackers handy, so people could stand there and have a conversation without having to awkwardly take turns going after the walnuts. Mama Goat and the other women would help Grandma in the kitchen while the menfolk ate nuts and talked about the year. Then we'd have an incredible meal, and drowsily make our way to the tree for another round of opening presents. After this, as it started to get dark, Grandpa would pull out the projector and show home movies. The same home movies we watched every year, but everyone loved them no matter how many times we saw them.

Then, just as us kiddos were falling asleep, we'd drive home, and Papa Goat never took a direct route home, because he knew the best path to take to see all the very best light displays. One farmer set up a huge display every year, out in the middle of nowhere, that was sort of an amusement ride. His semi-circular driveway had an entrance and and exit, and cars would pull in and slowly drive through the middle of this extensive explosion of lights. There was no fee for this. Just some guy who set up this display every year so that traveling parents could take a break from the monotony of the road and give their kids in the backseat something to gawk at.

Thirty years later, I'm sitting here at my desk, and sitting in front of me is the contact information I need to set up a Christmas call tomorrow between Mama Goat and Grandma Goat, with the help of the nurses at Grandma Goat's new, and last, home. No longer able to live safely in the outside world without 24-hour supervision, but still as healthy as someone half her age, according to her doctors, Grandma Goat is unlikely to ever see the house again that we spent so many Christmases in, though she's likely to spend a great number of new Christmases trying to remember how she's related to the person she's talking to over Zoom. A number of the other people we spent those Christmases with have long since gone to their own last homes, although theirs without nurses, and with only dirt and marble and the other departed to keep them company during the holidays.

People often say life is short. I think they are wrong. For the unlucky, sure, it can be short, but for most of us, it isn't. It's long. But it's also inexorable. Steadily moving, in only one direction, and every Christmas past is past forever. And eventually, we come to the point where we realize those Christmases we had in the past won't ever happen again. This year will be our first not going to Ohio, because Covid, but it won't be the first that isn't the same as Christmas once was. Last year, we went to Ohio, but we didn't have walnuts and home movies and large groups of relatives catching up. We had five people eating lunch meat sandwiches.

This is probably the darkest - or at least the most melancholic - of all my Xmas sermons, and it's not really a sermon. I'm not looking to make any theological points this year. Just an observation about life. In the time of Covid, we often feel like life has reached a turning point, but I think it's more likely that Covid has highlighted and brought out into the open the turning points we've made already. Covid isn't what took my childhood Christmases away from me. Cancer, heart disease, drugs and alcohol, and of course, above all, the still undefeated Father Time took them away.

So many losses, and not just IRL. We've had losses here in our virtual community, too. Andy, Kref, Buzz. It's insane to think we've been here so long to have shared such losses.

Anyway, I wanted to eventually shift this back to something positive, and I don't know how, so I'll just force it. The great thing about these Christmases past is that, though they are gone, they are never forgotten. The memories I have of sitting out in the garden house and waiting for the wood stove to warm up the stone floor so we could all slip off our shoes and feel the warmth through our socks are as strong as the memories I have of my commute home today. Those memories are thirty years old and still fresh, and God willing, they will remain that way.

This is going to be one of the most difficult of all Christmases for many of us, but do try to remember all those great Christmases you already had, and don't forget that they remain with you in the sense that they are part of what made you who you are. And think of the Christmases to come, and though they may be different, we can still make them positive and make new memories from them. When this whole Covid thing is over, I plan on taking Mama Goat to Ohio again to spend a Christmas with her Mama at her new home. I think I'll bring walnuts.

If you've made it this far, thank you for allowing me to share these holiday thoughts with you. I know they are rambling and perhaps even directionless, but the thing about burdens is that you have to shed them, sometimes violently, like a dog shaking off water.

Merry Christmas, Water Cooler, and God bless.
Excellent stuff, goat. Well said.

Our tradition has always been to have my families Christmas get together the Sunday before, her family to our house on Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day is all ours.

We didn’t get to do the large gatherings this year, but Christmas Day was extra special. We had a streaming church service on Christmas Eve and spent all day together, just the 6 of us, Christmas Day. We opened presents, played monopoly, napped, and then watched movies. It was perfect.

Life is way to short and way to hard to not spend it with the people who matter. God has been extremely good to me and I’m thankful every day for that.

Happy holidays to all my friends here at the cooler.
 

JamieDimonsBalls

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When I was a kid, we always had two Christmases. I'm sure a lot of families were like ours. The first Christmas was actually Christmas Eve. We'd gather around the tree in the early parts of the day, just Papa Goat, Mama Goat, Sister Goat, and me. We'd open a couple of presents early. Usually those presents were designed to give us some evening family activity. Maybe we got new stereos and listened to music together, or board games we could play that night while drinking warm apple cider. One glorious year, we got a Super Nintendo, which was quite the upgrade over our Atari 2600. My sister and I played Mario for hours, and then I squared off against Papa Goat with the first ever version of John Madden Football.

But then, we'd go to bed, and get up early the next morning, and drive to Ohio for second Christmas, or Real Christmas, as it were. The presents we didn't open would go with us, and be added to the large pile under the tree at Grandpa and Grandma Goat's house. A table in the middle of the living room would be set up with various snacks - bowls of M&Ms and mints and other candies, of course, but the star of the show was always the large bowl of unshelled nuts, with at least two nutcrackers handy, so people could stand there and have a conversation without having to awkwardly take turns going after the walnuts. Mama Goat and the other women would help Grandma in the kitchen while the menfolk ate nuts and talked about the year. Then we'd have an incredible meal, and drowsily make our way to the tree for another round of opening presents. After this, as it started to get dark, Grandpa would pull out the projector and show home movies. The same home movies we watched every year, but everyone loved them no matter how many times we saw them.

Then, just as us kiddos were falling asleep, we'd drive home, and Papa Goat never took a direct route home, because he knew the best path to take to see all the very best light displays. One farmer set up a huge display every year, out in the middle of nowhere, that was sort of an amusement ride. His semi-circular driveway had an entrance and and exit, and cars would pull in and slowly drive through the middle of this extensive explosion of lights. There was no fee for this. Just some guy who set up this display every year so that traveling parents could take a break from the monotony of the road and give their kids in the backseat something to gawk at.

Thirty years later, I'm sitting here at my desk, and sitting in front of me is the contact information I need to set up a Christmas call tomorrow between Mama Goat and Grandma Goat, with the help of the nurses at Grandma Goat's new, and last, home. No longer able to live safely in the outside world without 24-hour supervision, but still as healthy as someone half her age, according to her doctors, Grandma Goat is unlikely to ever see the house again that we spent so many Christmases in, though she's likely to spend a great number of new Christmases trying to remember how she's related to the person she's talking to over Zoom. A number of the other people we spent those Christmases with have long since gone to their own last homes, although theirs without nurses, and with only dirt and marble and the other departed to keep them company during the holidays.

People often say life is short. I think they are wrong. For the unlucky, sure, it can be short, but for most of us, it isn't. It's long. But it's also inexorable. Steadily moving, in only one direction, and every Christmas past is past forever. And eventually, we come to the point where we realize those Christmases we had in the past won't ever happen again. This year will be our first not going to Ohio, because Covid, but it won't be the first that isn't the same as Christmas once was. Last year, we went to Ohio, but we didn't have walnuts and home movies and large groups of relatives catching up. We had five people eating lunch meat sandwiches.

This is probably the darkest - or at least the most melancholic - of all my Xmas sermons, and it's not really a sermon. I'm not looking to make any theological points this year. Just an observation about life. In the time of Covid, we often feel like life has reached a turning point, but I think it's more likely that Covid has highlighted and brought out into the open the turning points we've made already. Covid isn't what took my childhood Christmases away from me. Cancer, heart disease, drugs and alcohol, and of course, above all, the still undefeated Father Time took them away.

So many losses, and not just IRL. We've had losses here in our virtual community, too. Andy, Kref, Buzz. It's insane to think we've been here so long to have shared such losses.

Anyway, I wanted to eventually shift this back to something positive, and I don't know how, so I'll just force it. The great thing about these Christmases past is that, though they are gone, they are never forgotten. The memories I have of sitting out in the garden house and waiting for the wood stove to warm up the stone floor so we could all slip off our shoes and feel the warmth through our socks are as strong as the memories I have of my commute home today. Those memories are thirty years old and still fresh, and God willing, they will remain that way.

This is going to be one of the most difficult of all Christmases for many of us, but do try to remember all those great Christmases you already had, and don't forget that they remain with you in the sense that they are part of what made you who you are. And think of the Christmases to come, and though they may be different, we can still make them positive and make new memories from them. When this whole Covid thing is over, I plan on taking Mama Goat to Ohio again to spend a Christmas with her Mama at her new home. I think I'll bring walnuts.

If you've made it this far, thank you for allowing me to share these holiday thoughts with you. I know they are rambling and perhaps even directionless, but the thing about burdens is that you have to shed them, sometimes violently, like a dog shaking off water.

Merry Christmas, Water Cooler, and God bless.

ive thought more about this post and it brought up a couple of key differences that I see unfolding, one related to me and one more broadly in developed economies.

On the personal side, I grew up with one other sibling in a family with great grandparents but complicated aunts and uncles. I say this because my parents followed a more traditional path (two kids, suburban house, etc.). These aunts and uncles of my parents (each of my parents had two siblings, which was still on the smaller side for the 50s) had one cousin (10 years older than me and 15 years older than my sibling and rarely present bc my uncle was a partner at a big NYC law firm and addicted to work) so I often envied those with larger families. I may have received more attention from my extended family, but things were quite lonely at the kids table).

looking back at my serious relationships, the two longest were with women that came from families of 3-4 and had massive extended families. I enjoyed celebrating various holidays with those extended families far more than my own. That’s part of the reason we are hoping for at least 3 kids. I’d like to revive that after a lost generation.


Second point: these new traditions are almost necessary because of some of the significant changes in birth rates and smaller family units. The Home Alone style family gatherings and trips seem much less likely in the future, and I’m not convinced that is a good thing.

for all I know, those that grew up in large families feel the opposite and crave smaller and more intimate gatherings, so it may not be a bad one either
 
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BCCHoosier

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ive thought more about this post and it brought up a couple of key differences that I see unfolding, one related to me and one more broadly in developed economies.

On the personal side, I grew up with one other sibling in a family with great grandparents but complicated aunts and uncles. I say this because my parents followed a more traditional path (two kids, suburban house, etc.). These aunts and uncles of my parents (each of my parents had two siblings, which was still on the smaller side for the 50s) had one cousin (10 years older than me and 15 years older than my sibling and rarely present bc my uncle was a partner at a big NYC law firm and addicted to work) so I often envied those with larger families. I may have received more attention from my extended family, but things were quite lonely at the kids table).

looking back at my serious relationships, the two longest were with women that came from families of 3-4 and had massive extended families. I enjoyed celebrating various holidays with those extended families far more than my own. That’s part of the reason we are hoping for at least 3 kids. I’d like to revive that after a lost generation.


Second point: these new traditions are almost necessary because of some of the significant changes in birth rates and smaller family units. The Home Alone style family gatherings and trips seem much less likely in the future, and I’m not convinced that is a good thing.

for all I know, those that grew up in large families feel others and crave smaller and more intimate gatherings, so it may not be a bad one either
I agree with what you say. My parents were born in the 1940s and amazingly both only children. I have one sister so our family gatherings were small.

I married into a large family and love the large holiday get togethers with 40-50 people. I do notice as the next generation start to have kids it seems each year people are pulled into multiple directions and the last few years crowds are getting smaller. With the number of elderly, this year was cancelled and I fear the Christmas Eve celebration will likely not ever be the same.
 
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zeke4ahs

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ive thought more about this post and it brought up a couple of key differences that I see unfolding, one related to me and one more broadly in developed economies.

On the personal side, I grew up with one other sibling in a family with great grandparents but complicated aunts and uncles. I say this because my parents followed a more traditional path (two kids, suburban house, etc.). These aunts and uncles of my parents (each of my parents had two siblings, which was still on the smaller side for the 50s) had one cousin (10 years older than me and 15 years older than my sibling and rarely present bc my uncle was a partner at a big NYC law firm and addicted to work) so I often envied those with larger families. I may have received more attention from my extended family, but things were quite lonely at the kids table).

looking back at my serious relationships, the two longest were with women that came from families of 3-4 and had massive extended families. I enjoyed celebrating various holidays with those extended families far more than my own. That’s part of the reason we are hoping for at least 3 kids. I’d like to revive that after a lost generation.


Second point: these new traditions are almost necessary because of some of the significant changes in birth rates and smaller family units. The Home Alone style family gatherings and trips seem much less likely in the future, and I’m not convinced that is a good thing.

for all I know, those that grew up in large families feel others and crave smaller and more intimate gatherings, so it may not be a bad one either
My dad was an only child and my mom had one brother with disabilities who never married. I was always desperate for big family gatherings. My parents did have some really good friends who we have considered cousins.
 

JamieDimonsBalls

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I agree with what you say. My parents were born in the 1940s and amazingly both only children. I have one sister so our family gatherings were small.

I married into a large family and love the large holiday get togethers with 40-50 people. I do notice as the next generation start to have kids it seems each year people are pulled into multiple directions and the last few years crowds are getting smaller. With the number of elderly, this year was cancelled and I fear the Christmas Eve celebration will likely not ever be the same.

To me, that is quite disappointing. But, I have to imagine that is occurring in other developed countries with major population changes (e.g., Europe, Japan)
 
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JamieDimonsBalls

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My dad was an only child and my mom had one brother with disabilities who never married. I was always desperate for big family gatherings. My parents did have some really good friends who we have considered cousins.

That may be the new wave of the future - combining family and friends more often. It obviously happens with some, but it may be more and more common as family units shrink.
 

BCCHoosier

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That may be the new wave of the future - combining family and friends more often. It obviously happens with some, but it may be more and more common as family units shrink.
We do that some with friends at Thanksgiving. In this case, our friends parents come from out of state.

With both my parents passing in the last 2 years, I really enjoyed interacting with their parents more than I thought I would. Brought a bit of normalicy.
 

iuwclurker

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I agree with what you say. My parents were born in the 1940s and amazingly both only children. I have one sister so our family gatherings were small.

I married into a large family and love the large holiday get togethers with 40-50 people. I do notice as the next generation start to have kids it seems each year people are pulled into multiple directions and the last few years crowds are getting smaller. With the number of elderly, this year was cancelled and I fear the Christmas Eve celebration will likely not ever be the same.
lol. Same here. Both parents only children, married into large network. My mother-law, who died before I met my wife, created a Christmas tradition with a large gathering of all generations. My wife carried the tradition on. In addition to the amazing food, she delighted the youngest with the magical moment of exclaiming that Santa had been seen in the other room. The kids would race to this darkened room to behold a Christmas tree they hadn’t yet seen with these special ornaments with lighted candles. Real candles with real flames.
 
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TheOriginalHappyGoat

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Epilogue:

I may never get a chance to bring those Walnuts to Grandma Goat's new home. She's in the hospital, and things are not looking great. I'm taking Mama Goat, still in a boot from her broken ankle, to Ohio on Friday to make sure she has at least one more chance to see her Mama in case things don't work out. I'm not sure how much of a joyous meeting it will be. At last report, Grandma Goat is not awake or alert.

Healthy as someone half her age, they said when they locked her up in her new forever home. But situations change, and this one changed dramatically. A bad fall, a couple of surgeries, an internal bleed, organs not working right. If it's bad, it's happening.

Maybe she'll get better, and we'll still get to have those walnuts next Christmas, but as of now, it looks like I'm loading Mama Goat up in the car and driving her two hours away so she can see her Mama for the last time. Not a pleasant weekend I'm planning at the moment.

For those so inclined, thoughts and prayers are appreciated.
 

CO. Hoosier

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Epilogue:

I may never get a chance to bring those Walnuts to Grandma Goat's new home. She's in the hospital, and things are not looking great. I'm taking Mama Goat, still in a boot from her broken ankle, to Ohio on Friday to make sure she has at least one more chance to see her Mama in case things don't work out. I'm not sure how much of a joyous meeting it will be. At last report, Grandma Goat is not awake or alert.

Healthy as someone half her age, they said when they locked her up in her new forever home. But situations change, and this one changed dramatically. A bad fall, a couple of surgeries, an internal bleed, organs not working right. If it's bad, it's happening.

Maybe she'll get better, and we'll still get to have those walnuts next Christmas, but as of now, it looks like I'm loading Mama Goat up in the car and driving her two hours away so she can see her Mama for the last time. Not a pleasant weekend I'm planning at the moment.

For those so inclined, thoughts and prayers are appreciated.
You have mine.

On your way to see Grandma Goat have your mom talk about her favorite childhood memories of her mom. Maybe have your recorder going. The old farts I have coffee with to a man regret having not taken the time to talk about those things with our parents.
 

TheOriginalHappyGoat

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You have mine.

On your way to see Grandma Goat have your mom talk about her favorite childhood memories of her mom. Maybe have your recorder going. The old farts I have coffee with to a man regret having not taken the time to talk about those things with our parents.
Thanks. I may end up with Sister Goat in the car, too, so it will be a recording for the ages.
 

mcmurtry66

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Epilogue:

I may never get a chance to bring those Walnuts to Grandma Goat's new home. She's in the hospital, and things are not looking great. I'm taking Mama Goat, still in a boot from her broken ankle, to Ohio on Friday to make sure she has at least one more chance to see her Mama in case things don't work out. I'm not sure how much of a joyous meeting it will be. At last report, Grandma Goat is not awake or alert.

Healthy as someone half her age, they said when they locked her up in her new forever home. But situations change, and this one changed dramatically. A bad fall, a couple of surgeries, an internal bleed, organs not working right. If it's bad, it's happening.

Maybe she'll get better, and we'll still get to have those walnuts next Christmas, but as of now, it looks like I'm loading Mama Goat up in the car and driving her two hours away so she can see her Mama for the last time. Not a pleasant weekend I'm planning at the moment.

For those so inclined, thoughts and prayers are appreciated.
You bet! Hang in there.
 

Morrison

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Epilogue:

I may never get a chance to bring those Walnuts to Grandma Goat's new home. She's in the hospital, and things are not looking great. I'm taking Mama Goat, still in a boot from her broken ankle, to Ohio on Friday to make sure she has at least one more chance to see her Mama in case things don't work out. I'm not sure how much of a joyous meeting it will be. At last report, Grandma Goat is not awake or alert.

Healthy as someone half her age, they said when they locked her up in her new forever home. But situations change, and this one changed dramatically. A bad fall, a couple of surgeries, an internal bleed, organs not working right. If it's bad, it's happening.

Maybe she'll get better, and we'll still get to have those walnuts next Christmas, but as of now, it looks like I'm loading Mama Goat up in the car and driving her two hours away so she can see her Mama for the last time. Not a pleasant weekend I'm planning at the moment.

For those so inclined, thoughts and prayers are appreciated.
Sincere thoughts and prayers for you and your family, Goat.
 

Noodle

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You have mine.

On your way to see Grandma Goat have your mom talk about her favorite childhood memories of her mom. Maybe have your recorder going. The old farts I have coffee with to a man regret having not taken the time to talk about those things with our parents.
Outstanding idea.
 

Noodle

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Epilogue:

I may never get a chance to bring those Walnuts to Grandma Goat's new home. She's in the hospital, and things are not looking great. I'm taking Mama Goat, still in a boot from her broken ankle, to Ohio on Friday to make sure she has at least one more chance to see her Mama in case things don't work out. I'm not sure how much of a joyous meeting it will be. At last report, Grandma Goat is not awake or alert.

Healthy as someone half her age, they said when they locked her up in her new forever home. But situations change, and this one changed dramatically. A bad fall, a couple of surgeries, an internal bleed, organs not working right. If it's bad, it's happening.

Maybe she'll get better, and we'll still get to have those walnuts next Christmas, but as of now, it looks like I'm loading Mama Goat up in the car and driving her two hours away so she can see her Mama for the last time. Not a pleasant weekend I'm planning at the moment.

For those so inclined, thoughts and prayers are appreciated.
Thoughts and prayers for you and your family.
Where in Ohio will you be? I’m heading to Toledo on Saturday (mom’s taxes).
 

TheOriginalHappyGoat

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You have mine.

On your way to see Grandma Goat have your mom talk about her favorite childhood memories of her mom. Maybe have your recorder going. The old farts I have coffee with to a man regret having not taken the time to talk about those things with our parents.
Outstanding idea.
Just for my own catharsis, I'll share this.

My uncle was a bit of a misfit. Troublemaker. Jail time. That kind of thing. But always the kind of guy family could count on. He's my dad's brother, so he's not even related to Grandma Goat, but by marriage. But for some reason, when my parents got together, my traditional old-fashioned Grandma took a shine to this ornery younger brother of her daughter's future husband. They got along fabulously.

Years ago, as the generations were dying off and the family reunions stopped happening, we had a problem. We needed someone to carry on the tradition of Grandma's famous noodles. She got the recipe from her mom, who got it from...well you know how it goes. So who took her up on the offer? My uncle on my dad's side, the wild-eyed problem child from the wrong side of the tracks who wasn't even related to her. We got together for Christmas one year, and Grandma spent the afternoon teaching my uncle how to properly make noodles. He still carries that knowledge and exhibits pride in their friendship and his noodle-making. When I was told Grandma was sick, though unrelated by blood, he was my first call.
 

TheOriginalHappyGoat

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Epilogue #2: Grandma Goat is going to come off the vent in a couple of days. Nurse and doctor think she will probably be strong enough to breathe on her own, but that just means we are in "gradual breakdown" mode, so we are probably moving her to hospice. Unfortunately, the medical professionals' opinion is "hours, days, weeks, or maybe even months." A DNR and CC is in order, so it's all palliative from here on out, but she still might hang on for a while.
 

TheOriginalHappyGoat

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That’s going to make it tough on the family, but we do what we have to do.

Not knowing when makes it tough logistically, while dealing with the human emotions of a loved one in decline and concern for your mother. You’re a good man. Hang tough and see them through. Prayers.
It was tough today. Standing there with mom - in her own wheelchair because of her broken ankle - and knowing that nothing would change. We were just there for as long as it took to get enough peace of mind to leave.

Dying is ugly stuff.
 
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76-1

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It was tough today. Standing there with mom - in her own wheelchair because of her broken ankle - and knowing that nothing would change. We were just there for as long as it took to get enough peace of mind to leave.

Dying is ugly stuff.
Sorry to read of your distress.

Been there. It's rough no matter how it plays out.

My mother was in a coma induced by a stroke...

My father actually checked the weather the (the only few minutes he had his TV on while in the hospice) for his military funeral (I guarantee he would have toughed it out for as long as it took to keep his Marines out of the rain and the whole operation looking sharp...)...

No matter the circumstances, it's rough to say goodbye...

Your being there mattered... I know my mother could sense we were there for her...

Condolences and prayers...
 
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May 11, 2010
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It was tough today. Standing there with mom - in her own wheelchair because of her broken ankle - and knowing that nothing would change. We were just there for as long as it took to get enough peace of mind to leave.

Dying is ugly stuff.
My condolences to you and your mom. Went through the passing of my Dad in January. It's hard but you'll start remembering the life more and the end less.
 

CO. Hoosier

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Just for my own catharsis, I'll share this.

My uncle was a bit of a misfit. Troublemaker. Jail time. That kind of thing. But always the kind of guy family could count on. He's my dad's brother, so he's not even related to Grandma Goat, but by marriage. But for some reason, when my parents got together, my traditional old-fashioned Grandma took a shine to this ornery younger brother of her daughter's future husband. They got along fabulously.

Years ago, as the generations were dying off and the family reunions stopped happening, we had a problem. We needed someone to carry on the tradition of Grandma's famous noodles. She got the recipe from her mom, who got it from...well you know how it goes. So who took her up on the offer? My uncle on my dad's side, the wild-eyed problem child from the wrong side of the tracks who wasn't even related to her. We got together for Christmas one year, and Grandma spent the afternoon teaching my uncle how to properly make noodles. He still carries that knowledge and exhibits pride in their friendship and his noodle-making. When I was told Grandma was sick, though unrelated by blood, he was my first call.
We are waiting for the noodle recipe whenever you are ready. I’ve developed a pretty good goulash since this pandemic started and a good batch of noodles would be perfect.
 

UncleMark

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It was tough today. Standing there with mom - in her own wheelchair because of her broken ankle - and knowing that nothing would change. We were just there for as long as it took to get enough peace of mind to leave.

Dying is ugly stuff.

I'll chime in here, as this quote hit home with me after my experience with both my parents.

My sympathies. Nothing anyone can say will make things better, but you can be comforted in the knowledge that you're not alone, and that it's okay to wish that the inevitable comes to pass sooner than later.
 

TheOriginalHappyGoat

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I'll chime in here, as this quote hit home with me after my experience with both my parents.

My sympathies. Nothing anyone can say will make things better, but you can be comforted in the knowledge that you're not alone, and that it's okay to wish that the inevitable comes to pass sooner than later.
And that's what happened. She passed peacefully early this morning, before we ever got to move her to hospice. Going back for the funeral this weekend.
 

TheOriginalHappyGoat

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Condolences Goat. My godmother passed away in hospice in Maumee this morning. Maybe they got to meet for lunch today.
Sorry for your loss, Noodle.

To you and the rest here, I just want to say thanks for the good thoughts and any prayers sent our way. I don't have the time or energy - I'm absolutely exhausted - to like or reply to individual posts, but I really do appreciate it.

This is a very gutting death for us. I mean, it was totally expected, and no one is tearing their robes or wailing at the sun, but at the same time, it's kind of the end of a generation, almost. Grandma's little sister (she's 88) is the only one left, so we are sort of realizing that we are saying goodbye, not just to a person, but to an entire section of family history that was very different than the one we experienced.

Grandma's first experience with indoor plumbing happened after she got married. I mean, they had a pretty luxurious outhouse where she grew up. But it was still an outhouse. They had one of those tubs that you bring water to from the well to take a bath in. It's just so removed from the world we live in now, it's hard to fathom.

Anyway, thanks to everyone, and if you posted condolences, and I didn't respond, please know, it's only because I'm too knackered to keep up, and I still really appreciate them. Cheers, Cooler.